Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Bzzt. You have been summoned to save the world, brave hero. Bzzt.”

“Is this a joke?” Janie Anong knelt inside a glowing cube. Blazing white walls surrounded her, identical whether she looked up or down. A translucent figure floated before her, washed-out and colorless, twice the size of a human woman with hair flowing to the ground. At first it seemed like a ghost, then it flickered in and out like a hologram. A sound like static crackled the air.

“Are you the usual goddess character?” Jaine reached out to touch, but her hand went through the other’s robe.

“Bzzt,” the figure answered.

“This can’t be real.” Unfortunately, saying it out loud made everything feel more real. “How did truck-kun even find me in America?”

Janie’s last memory did not involve a truck. She remembered a step breaking under her foot, a moment of panic, then the sharp pain of her forehead slamming against the tile floor. “I told my landlord that the steps were loose! I texted him three times. There’s a paper trail, he’s going to be in so much trouble. My parents will sue his ass.”

Unfortunately, speaking about her death only made it feel more real. This would devastate her parents and her older brother. The local author exposition would be tomorrow, and she’d been preparing for weeks at the library where she worked. She’d intended to ask a beautiful redheaded romance author out on a date after the expo finished and it would no longer be awkward if she got rejected. The last chapter of her latest favorite manga would be released in three days. She shivered, wrapping her arms around her shoulders. “Excuse me? Lady Goddess?” It wouldn’t hurt to be polite. “Is this an isekai story where I can return home after completing a mission? I would like very much to return home, please. Even if I’m already…d-dead…you can give me a new body or turn back time, right?”

“Pick your power, brave hero. Bzzt.”

Janie swallowed hard. “Could you at least give me a clue about what kind of enemy I’m supposed to fight? That would be useful in figuring out the optimal power. For example, if you want me to fight dragon, it would be a problem if I pick fire. Unless it’s an ice instead of a fire-breathing dragon—there are many cool types of dragons. I love dragons, I can’t promise not to defect if they’re the enemy.” She was babbling. “Um, I would really like an answer to my question about going home.”

“…Power. Bzzt.” The ghostly figure held out her hand as if offering to shake.

Slowly, Janie stood up and crossed her arms. She summoned what will she had left in her frazzled state. “I’m not going to fight a demon king or whatever for you unless you agree to let me go home afterward.”

“Bzzt.”

Janie did not know how much time passed while she argued with an image. It had been long enough for her to bargain, plead, and regret ever signing a lease in her dump of an apartment. At one point she’d collapsed sobbing to the ground and apologizing to her family for dying. Throughout the ordeal, the presumed goddess had not once spoken or moved. Although Janie had tried to hold out as long as possible, she’d never once felt thirsty or hungry. She did not know if that meant there was no need for food and water in this place, or if her willpower hadn’t lasted that long.

“Fine, if I get out of here then hopefully someone can answer my questions.” Janie rubbed her swollen eyes. At this point, she realized something possibly more horrifying than being isekaied into a strange and violent world—being stuck inside a glowing cube with a malfunctioning system and no way out. What if she picked a power and nothing happened? She did not want to contemplate the very, very real possibility that she’d be trapped in here for eternity, unable to die.

Shaking her head, she focused on the important dilemma at hand. She was tempted to pick the power to transfer between worlds so she could go back home—but then she remembered she was dead back home. Without a guarantee she could obtain a new body, that power might actually be ability to commit suicide. What would be the strongest ability? Time-stopping had always been at the top of her list of cool powers. But the goddess character had said something about saving the world, and if she was expected to fight an indestructible demon king in order to go home, then stopping time would be only good for letting her run away. She really didn’t have the patience for a thousand-year-long training montage. The power to reset to the past or come back from the dead would maximize her own safety, but she’d read too many horrible stories about main characters trapped in time loops repeatedly dying. An indestructible body could become a curse for the same reason. A black hole-type destruction would be useful against nearly any foe, but that seemed like a power that could destroy allies too. Janie desperately hoped she wouldn’t be ordered to fight alone. No matter what power she considered, she could also remember some villain from a fictional story who could easily counter it.

How could she figure out the best power when she didn’t have the faintest idea what she might be up against?

She grabbed the hand, her fingers going through. Her skin became cold as long as she lingered inside a ghost. “I would like to be a hundred times more powerful than anyone else—” No, what if she got sent to some horrific death world where she had to face more than a hundred enemies at once? “Redo.” She jerked her hand away, then stuck it back. “I would like to be a million times more powerful than anything or anyone in the world where you send me.”

A million times stronger had to be safe, right? Surely she could kill any demon king with such power? Or she might just threaten whoever had summoned her into sending her back home. She was not in a charitable mood toward interstellar kidnappers. Besides, she’d read plenty of stories where the summoners of the hero turned out to be the real villains.

“Your request has reached the limits of my abilities. System overloading. Drawing on ancillary power.”

“Wait, a hundred times should be enough—” Janie screamed. Electricity arched through her body, turning her words into an incoherent howl of pain. Every nerve in her body disintegrated. Unconsciousness came as a relief.

Janie woke up surrounded by bones. Whiteness rose up around her like a wall. Only when her eyes reached a knee joint did she realize the things embedded in the dirt must be bones, and so was the hardness against her back. She leapt up.

The giant bones dwarfed even dinosaurs in museums. Her head only came halfway up a leg bone lying on its side. The crisp air smelled dusty and metallic. When she panted, her breath came out in white gasps. She was still wearing the sweatpants and T-shirt she’d died in, offering little protection from the cold. She didn’t even have shoes, only slippers.

Slowly, she turned in a complete circle. There were too many bones spread too far around for her to tell what kind of creature might have died here, or if it had been more than one, but it had been massive.

What if she’d been summoned to fight this already-dead monster? The system had clearly been malfunctioning. If the threat was already dead, then did she have no way home?

Janie swallowed hard. She couldn’t give up this easily. If there existed magic to transport her here, then it logically followed there must be a way home.

Even though it felt disgusting, she climbed on top of a flat round bone and looked around.

The bones spread across a dirt field. From this height, she could make out the shape of wings and four clawed legs. A dragon, perhaps? If so, this one made Smaug look like a toddler. Her breath hitched. Although she felt grateful to never need to fight this behemoth, she had to admit it was cool.

Eventually the flat, barren ground met a forest surrounding her on all sides. The trees resembled pines, but with silvery needles. A forest seemed promising. There might be people who lived there. The pessimistic thought crossed her mind that she could have been sent to an already-destroyed world with no inhabitants. She pushed that fear away because she could do nothing about it.

Janie imagined herself teleporting to the forest. Nothing happened. What kind of power did she have, anyway? What if she had no power because she’d made a dumb wish the system couldn’t handle? What if the system had been broken and she never would have gotten a power from the beginning?

This speculation wasn’t helping. Janie set off across the field, walking around the bones.

She probably went in circles a few times. She had to climb on top of a bone again once to get her bearings. When she slid down, something crunched under her slipper.

She’d landed on a human-sized fingerbone.

Janie leapt backward with a squawk. A human skeleton lay at the base of the larger bone. The clothing had long ago decomposed, but a golden cross necklace remained. A Christian symbol could have only come from Earth. This must be the last summoned hero.

Janie clasped her hands, bowed over the body, and stood silent for a moment. Being raised in a nonpracticing but traditionally Buddhist family, she did not know any Christian prayers. She simply expressed a wish to the universe for a stranger from the same world who had died far from home to find peace. Then she kept moving, determined not to lose her path again. Maybe the previous summoned hero had been killed by the dragon, but it had also crossed her mind that the other person could have been summoned to a graveyard, then slipped off a bone and broken their neck.

By the time she reached the forest, her slippers had been shredded. It got even worse when she stepped among the trees, with twigs and pinecones digging into her feet. The trunks were colored silver and felt like metal, not wood. The damn pinecones felt unnaturally sharp and released a dark mist when they fell from the trees.

“Hello?” she shouted. “Is anyone there?”

There was no response. The forest seemed uncannily silent. She shivered, not just because of the cool air rustling through the needles. A forest with no animals seemed like a very bad sign.

But what else could she do? Sit in a cemetery until she died of exposure?

As Janie walked gingerly across the fallen needles, she tried saying things like: “System window” and “Tutorial, please.” Nothing happened.

She tried to give herself a peptalk. She’d been transported to another world. It should be the dream of any nerd. Maybe she’d get to ride a dragon, since the skeleton proved they existed here. Dragons had always been her favorite creature. She loved all kinds of dragons: big or small, Western or Eastern, kind or cruel, intelligent or savage—they all possessed a unique majesty. She told herself that a world with dragons couldn’t be all bad.

It didn’t work. She felt cold and tired. She’d liked reading isekai manga, but she’d never wanted to be sent to a land without heaters or toilets. She preferred her adventures to be from safely behind her phone screen, cuddled up under a heated blanket on her sofa. Her genre-savviness was not making her feel any better, because she’d read as many stories about people from Earth being sent to horrific death worlds as fun fantasy lands. From the moment she’d seen the out of order goddess, she’d developed a bad feeling about what kind of world she’d ended up in. There had still not been the slightest sound or glimpse of even an insect.

It was a relief to spot a glimmer among the fallen needles. Janie knelt down and picked up a ring. What appeared to be a diamond was in the middle of very, very tarnished gold. She could not tell if this ring had come from her world. It looked a lot like a wedding ring, but other cultures besides Earth had rings. This time she did not see a body. The thought crossed her mind that the bones could have decomposed straight off this ring. She dropped the ring, then hastily clasped her hands together for another moment of silence.

The same fear returned: what if everyone in this world had already died and she was completely alone?

When Janie heard running water, it jerked her out of her depressing thoughts. She immediately turned toward the sound. People created settlements along rivers. Follow the water and find people: that should be a universal truth.

The river at least looked normal, with clear water falling over stones and twice as wide as she could jump. By the time she reached the bank, her throat ached. She knelt down and nearly cupped the water in her hands to drink. Then she hesitated.

Books had drilled it into her head that random river water was not safe to drink. It seemed even more dangerous to drink inside a death forest. If this water was safe, then why had she not found the slightest trace of an animal? Why where there no hoof or paw prints around the river bank?

On the other hand, she didn’t think she could continue her journey much longer without water. It would also end her adventure if she collapsed on the bank. The water burbled as if to tempt her. She licked her lips.

If only she had a way to boil the water and make it safe. It seemed unlikely yet possible that her too-vague wish had granted her fire powers. Janie held her palm over the river and said half-jokingly: “Fireball!”

Flames exploded in all directions, burning into her retinas. The boiling water and crackling trees vanished in an ear-piercing shriek. Janie got to experience the singularly unique sensation of her skin being burned off at the same time her insides cooked. She would later consider it a mercy that she forgot the worst of it.

When she next returned to awareness, she lay on her back on a pile of ashes. The instant she tried to move, the parts knitting themselves together under her skin tore again. She lay very still and tried not to dwell on the pain.

In retrospect, it became humiliatingly obvious that “a million time’s the strongest power in this world” had been too much for her body to handle. It had also been too much power to use for a small task such as boiling water. She was lucky her power set came with regeneration. Although she didn’t feel lucky at the moment.

Janie did not know how long she lay staring at the grey sky. It was long enough for the sun to begin to set. Her knees groaning, she stood up.

Ashes spread about her as far as the eye could see. She could no longer find any traces of the river or graveyard. The ground was flat, yet the ashes seemed to stretch off into the horizon.

“Oh, dear,” Janie said in a small voice.

There did not seem to be any choice except to start walking. She picked the setting sun as her guide and trudged in that direction. With each step, she sank ankle-deep into ashes.

Janie had started out thirsty. By the time two moons rose in the sky, she was too exhausted and parched to even feel a sense of wonder. The cold raised goosebumps down her arms and legs. Her teeth chattered. She collapsed to the ground.

By the next morning, the ache in her throat had turned into a roar. Her stomach rumbled. Despite her fear, she summoned up the nerve to try to use magic again. She attempted to create water, then summon water, then transform ashes into water, then wish away the thirst. Nothing happened.

She’d wished for the power to fight. She had not requested immunity to thirst or hunger. She had not even considered the ability to create food—that had seemed useless at the time. She’d expected to fight a monster. But the monster had already been dead, and she’d become trapped in a lifeless hellscape. Even teleportation would have been a better choice than her foolish attempt to become the usual overpowered isekai character.

Power was currently absolutely no use to her survival.

She’d tried to fly, to become faster, and to teleport many times. Nothing worked. In the end, she had no choice except to keep moving in the same direction and hope there would be people somewhere. As a city dweller who’d last gone camping in high school, she had no illusions about her ability to survive alone in the wilderness.

On second thought, she would have done anything to have gotten the forest back. The forest had plants and water. With each burning, painful step, she regretted not drinking from the river.

Janie carefully counted out days by the rising and the setting of the sun. By the third day, she wondered why she wasn’t dead from lack of water. Her throat kept getting more and more dry without ever quite pushing her into blissful blackness. She couldn’t be certain that an Earth day was the same length as a day on this world. But her dizziness, headache, and cough meant she must be dehydrated. Her stomach felt like it had caved in. The cold had turned her fingers numb, but they never progressed to blue.

She’d healed from being burned alive, could she heal from frostbite and starvation too? Apparently just enough to stay alive, but never enough for the pain to end. She’d completely stopped urinating or sweating. From what she’d read, dehydrated people urinated less but it didn’t stop. She took this as a sign that her body should be dead.

On the fifth day, Janie bit her own arm and started drinking her blood. The sight of blood usually made her feel ill but now she couldn’t care. She gasped in desperate relief at every last drop of liquid going down her throat, licking at the vein in her wrist. The wound healed up. She sobbed, no longer having enough liquid for tears.

There was no choice except to keep going. It wasn’t as if she could die even if she gave up.

One foot in front of the other, she continued. Surely there must be something out there. Surely. She summoned up memories of her parents and brother, reasons why she had to return home. When she got back to Earth, she would go straight to her family home in Santa Monica (not that unlivable apartment) and treat herself to a long bubble bath. Sometimes she promised herself treats from Earth like the manga updates waiting or chocolate chip cookies. Other times she tried to imagine something worth living for in this world, like a dragon. She imagined thousands of dragons, scales with colors across the rainbow or with feathers or even with fur. Whatever kept her legs moving.

Everything blended together. On the twelfth day, she finally fell on her face. The bruises did not register compared to her screaming hunger. She couldn’t breath with her nose buried in the ashes. But apparently her body could survive without oxygen too.

She should have wished she could go home. Even if she’d died, wouldn’t that be better than this? In her current state, she couldn’t even die no matter how much pain she experienced.

What if she remained suffering like this until old age?

What if that damn evil goddess had given her immortality?

Janie lost track of time trying to smother herself in ashes, but eventually she realized she wasn’t going to die no matter how long she held her breath. If death didn’t end her pain, then she had no choice except to keep going.

She bit her arm again to drink blood. Then she crawled forward, away from the rising sun. She had to at least keep moving in the same direction, or her situation would be truly hopeless.

Sometimes she prayed. She hadn’t set foot in a temple for years, but right now she would appeal to any god she could get. The one who had brought her here and cast her into hell never responded.

“Mom,” she begged, calling out deliriously to the person she knew she couldn’t help her with a childish desperation. “Dad? Mom? I’m sorry. I don’t think I can make it back home.”

At least ten more days passed crawling in the dirt, then she lost track again.

I want to die. I want to die. I want to die.

The steady chant in her head was poison. It made her fall on her face and stop moving again. That would have been fine if she could actually die, but instead her suffering never ended.

She told herself whatever lie kept her crawling forward. She was going home. She was going to see a dragon. She was going toward food.

When her fingers finally touched grass, she didn’t believe it. She hadn’t risen her face from the dirt for a long time. She looked up. A yellowish field spread away from her. In the distance, she saw a hill with tiny buildings and smoke rising.

Sobbing, Janie shoveled grass into her mouth, sucking out every last bit of liquid.

Rema’s village was located about as close as anyone dared get to the Cursed Lands where the Last Calamity had fallen. The forest had a creepy aura that scared away anyone with a bit of common sense. People who lived nearby had two things in common: 1. Absolutely no ability to sense magic; and 2. Nowhere else to go.

When an unnaturally red fire had burned the entire forest down in seconds and taken out a grassy hill too, people had been understandably panicked. Especially because the strangeness had breached the boundaries of the forest for once, even if it hadn’t quite reached their village. But the incident had been good for the village. Strangers had come to take ash samples and wave around magical devices. None of them dared actually venture into the Cursed Lands. They stayed at the village, where people charged them triple for rent and food, but they never seemed to notice. Then they all left, leaving everyone with a bit more money.

A woman covered in ash crawled into the village a five days later.

At first, a few brave people approached asking if she’d belonged to any of the scholarly groups (though none of the ones who had stayed locally had lost anyone.) She stared blankly and begged for food. Her limbs had grown so shrunken, she looked a stage past starvation. To be more exact, she looked like an undead.

People in the village were not cruel. But they were not particularly well-off either, and they believed their survival rested on having as little to do with the Cursed Lands as possible. Several people left out food, water, and a towel—at a safe distance to avoid contact with the ash. Taking someone possibly cursed into their homes would be going too far.

The stranger gobbled up everything and tried to eat the towel, then collapsed on her back. Everyone hoped that she would either become saner or go away, but she stayed like that, lying next to the road and staring at the sky.

By the time Rema passed by carrying a water bucket, she’d gotten used to treating the stranger as a peculiar road decoration. The stranger was a short little thing with hair that looked black under the dirt and very dark eyes. Some locals thought she’d been cursed to have black eyes but realistically she was probably a foreigner.

“Hello, can you understand me?” the stranger asked. “What’s your name?”

Just Rema’s luck that the cursed woman had finally decided to talk to her. With a reluctant sigh, Rema did stop. “I’m Rema.”

“I’m God is Gracious.”

Rema blinked. “What an odd name.”

“Well, of course, I’m from a very distant place: The Angels.”

Rema’s village worshipped many gods, who all had their own angels. “Sounds like a very religious place if people have names like God is Gracious.”

“Huh?” The stranger gaped. “No, my name is God is Gracious.”

“Yes, that’s what I said. Your name is God is Gracious.”

“It’s not! My name is Godddddd is Graaaacious.” The stranger drawing out the words did not change them. She clutched her head. “I don’t believe this! The magic must be literally translating my words into your language. I guess God is Gracious does technically mean God is Gracious but I’m not religious or Belonging to the Anointed One. My ancestors came from Thailand.”

“What’s Thailand?”

“You could hear that word but not my name?! I would drink my own blood again for an instruction manual. Damn it! That shitty goddess gave me the worst power package!” The stranger waved her arms at the sky, then turned back to Rema with a sheepish expression. “Thailand is a country where my great-grandparents came from before immigrating to the United States of Home Ruler.”

This stranger had clearly completely lost her mind. None of those places existed. The blasphemy was also concerning. Rema picked up her bucket and resumed walking.

“Wait,” the stranger begged, her voice turning heart-wrenchingly desperate. “Can you please answer a few questions? Where am I?”

Rema stopped. “Will you leave afterward? It would be better if you leave before anyone has to drive you out of town.”

“Why would anyone drive me out?” The stranger looked wide-eyed and panicked. It made her seem much less frightening. She was only a short and skeletal young woman. Under the ashes flaking off, her skin looked tanner than the villagers and her hair ebony-black, but she seemed like a regular human.

Rema took pity. “You’re covered in cursed ash, and it makes people nervous. There’s been a great deal of talk. Everyone agreed that if you don’t leave within three days, something will have to be done.” In the meeting, people had argued about what length of stick would be necessary to poke a cursed person away. “To answer your first question, this village does not have a name and we are independent of any country. The last group of strangers called us the base of the Cursed Lands. The closest place to go would be the city-state of Uvom. You can make out the white roofs in that direction.” She pointed at the mountain with walls at the base and buildings floating up the side, the castle so large it could be seen even a day’s walk away. “You should wash off the ash before you go there. You still have a towel.”

“Oh.” The stranger looked down at the dirty towel on the ground. She rubbed her hands on it, but only succeeded in transferring dirt around. “Could I convince people to let me stay if I worked? I’ll take nearly any job.”

“No.” Rema reached for her bucket hintingly. “Do you have more questions?”

“I definitely do,” the stranger said quickly. “Um, what is city-state of Uvom like? Is it a good place to live?”

“Uvom is ruled by the half-dragon, half-human Duchess Amaranth. Monsters don’t go near dragons.”

“A dragon,” the stranger breathed reverently.

“Uvom draws people from all around the world because it accepts all types of magic, even those forbidden in other places. But all the manual labor in the city is carried out by golems and wisps. It will be hard to find a job unless you have skills. The last time men in our village went looking for work, they returned emptyhanded. Two women stayed and became prostitutes.”

The stranger looked a bit ill. “Oh, dear. Any other places within walking distance?”

“No one lives near the Cursed Lands.”

“Um. You mean the place that burned to ash? I hope…no one was hurt?”

“No, because no one goes there. A summoned hero brought down the Last Calamity there, tainting the place with its death curse forever.”

The stranger sat up straighter. “Summoned hero, you say? Can you tell me about those?”

This should be common knowledge around the world. Rema’s lips tightened, feeling like her time was being wasted. She resolved only a few more questions would be allowed. “The Four Calamities were Ancient Dragons who brought down natural disasters whenever they awoke. A thousand years ago, the very last one awakened and a hero got summoned from another world to kill it. An entire empire was destroyed in the process, but that’s still a cheaper price than the first three. At least now no calamities are left and there will be no more summonings. Half the royal families in the world claim to be descended from that hero.”

“The hero didn’t return home?” the stranger asked in a small voice.

“No, the gods only bring over people who are dead in their own worlds. They cannot return. Their existence has already ceased and their own world would reject them.”

“Oh. Then…what’s the point to anything?” Tears rolled down the stranger’s cheeks. Her eyes sunk into her skull as if she’d lost all reason to live. It was uncomfortable to witness.

Rema thought this was her moment to escape. But as soon as she picked up her bucket, the stranger asked, “Would people give me food and water if I agreed to leave today?”

“Yes, definitely,” Rema said eagerly.

It was so much easier when impoverished vagrants left on their own without needing to be forced out.

Janie trudged down the dirt road toward the City-State of Uvom, sipping from her new water flask. She still felt weak, and the glimpse of herself that she’d seen in the water had horrified her. Her arms had lost all muscle, but she could somehow move them. Each step hurt her legs. She didn’t want to look at her feet.

Back to walking again, with nowhere to go.

Even if she reached Uvom, what would she do next? Janie had come to the unfortunate realization that her godlike powers were completely useless. She couldn’t control them, they caused her horrific pain, and there wasn’t much call for widespread destruction except under unusual circumstances.

Being the strongest person in the world ought to count for something, but in practice Janie had already learned that strength didn’t get her food. She could threaten people for food, but she didn’t want to do that. She’d never hurt anyone before, and she hated the sight of blood. Besides, if she went around acting like a dick then someone would slit her throat in her sleep. Although she could heal from that, people would probably bury her alive next.

Humans weren’t made to survive alone. She needed allies. From a pragmatic perspective, her best option would be to demonstrate her ability to someone powerful and then cling to their thigh to survive. Except she didn’t want to murder people on orders, either. Anyone who fed and clothed a weapon of mass destruction would expect murder at some point. That kind of person didn’t seem worth obeying. As a purely selfish concern, the last time she’d used her abilities, it had caused her such agony that she seriously thought death might be a better option than doing that on a regular basis. Just imagining sent remembered pain through her body.

That was how the most powerful person in the world got stuck with the exciting career options of beggar or prostitute.

On that depressing note, Janie sat down on a rock to eat the meal she’d been given in exchange for scramming. Her hands trembled as she unwrapped the sandwich. Apparently sandwiches were rather universal. That comforted her. It looked like ordinary wheat bread with a white meat inside resembling chicken.

Janie bit into the sandwich. The meat tasted slightly tangy, like fruit.

“WHAT THE HELL?” Janie leapt up and threw the sandwich on the rock. “THIS IS NOT CHICKEN! IT DOESN’T EVEN TASTE LIKE MEAT AT ALL!” She kicked the rock, then collapsed on the ground in a ball and sobbed.

She didn’t know why she was acting like this over a sandwich. Except she did. Because the not-chicken had been another reminder that she would never go home.

The entire time Janie had survived in the field of ash, she’d promised herself that she would be going home. To learn it was impossible had cut her all the way to the soul. She would never see her parents and her brother again. She’d never see her friends. She would never experience a hot shower or a toilet. Chocolate was gone forever. She’d never read another manga or watch anime. Books probably existed in this world, but they’d be completely different from the stories she loved. Everything smelled bad, from the people to the homes to the ashes she couldn’t manage to wipe off herself. No one in this world cared about her. She’d been greeted with cold stares. Thanks to this stupid translation spell that literally interpreted Janie as God is Gracious, no one would ever even call her by her name again.

Then what made life worth living?

Janie had used up all her will to survive starving and crawling across the ash. She had nothing left. No matter how hard she tried to think up plans, her brain swam. She was out of fucks to give. When she tried to imagine living on in this strange world, she could not. Everything so far had been bleak, and everything ahead looked bleaker. Her entire future had been taken away from her. It left her spinning through space dizzily. If only she could find a single reason to keep on going, then she could have pulled herself together. But even the chicken tasted like fruit and she hated this world.

It would have been easier if she had someone to blame and take revenge on. That could have been the start of a great dark hero arc. But from what she could tell, the goddess figure hadn’t been intelligent. She’d been summoned here by a freak accident. (She probably hadn’t been the first accident either—there had been a human skeleton at the bones but the hero of legend had survived.) She’d been taken from her world to fight an already-dead monster by a goddess who was either dead or broken. The villagers had not been kind enough to give her hope or cruel enough to force her into a fight. Most her suffering had been caused by her own stupid fire spell. Spite could be a great motivator but she didn’t even have a revenge target.

There was no reason at all for Janie to get up from the dirt. So she didn’t. She lay there and thought it would have been better to die on her own world, quickly and cleanly.

Janie’s stomach chose that inopportune moment to rumble, and suddenly she hated her own body with a passion that rivaled her hatred for this world. Her body had tortured her for over a month with hunger she could not satisfy. She had an irrational desire to make her body suffer for causing her so much pain. Burn that damn hunger out! Her hand crept up to her throat.

If she activated the fire spell on herself, then surely being burned to ashes would kill her. If she was the most powerful person in the world, then her power ought to be able to destroy herself. She could aim the magic into the ground, since she didn’t want to hurt anyone else. Or the sky would be safer, maybe?

Janie looked up at the sky, and a dragon flew by.

Scales the color of diamonds shimmered in the sun. Massive wings twice the body length made the air hum with each flap. The beautiful creature had four clawed feet, magnificent curled horns, a long neck with spikes running down, and an even longer tail. A shadow cast down that blocked out the sun. Janie gasped, caught up in the magnificence of a creature capable of dominating the sky. Radiating magic held her in place, frozen by the gravity of a power as old as the wind and clouds. This was a legend. A being drawn from human dream and imagination somehow made flesh. A natural wonder. Her heart beat frantically, blood pulsing through her veins, the feeling of life filling her.

The dragon veered away, landing near the base of the mountain. Though the figure was small in the distance, the gemlike scales gleamed like a beacon.

Janie stood up, grabbed her sandwich, and walked toward the mountain. One step in front of another, faster now, with renewed determination. She bit savagely into her food, chewing and barely tasting it. Her eyes were fixed on the mountain. She had a reason for living now. She wanted to touch a dragon. Even the Janie back on Earth would have longed to do something so cool. The current Janie had no other reason for living.

If she found a dragon, then there would finally be a reason for coming to this hell world, and she could always die afterward.

Srella had been lady’s maid to Duchess Amarnath for the last five years. During that time, not a single person had every dared disturb the lady’s bath, the punishment for which would be execution. Although Amaranth, being a dragon, didn’t need to wait for the headsman.

Amaranth lounged in the sparkling lake, her massive body pushing the water higher. Wings spread, she floated on her stomach and soaked in the sun. Her scales filled the lake and clearing with radiant light. Her tail wagged slightly. She was on the smaller side for a dragon, which still meant a human would only come up to her knee. A sound between a growl and a purr meant she’d drifted off into semi-slumber.

The trend of bath peepers had been started by a rumor that Amaranth bathed in the lake in human form. This was untrue—the duchess had a nice heated human-sized bath at her own castle. Only the lake was large enough for a dragon to frolic. However, some of the local men had dared each other and placed bets about who could successfully spy on the duchess’ bath. Amaranth had been unamused and suggested raising the stakes to death, at which point the game had lost appeal.

Since Amaranth hardly cared about being seen in dragon form without clothing, her concern had probably been more for her personal maid, who sometimes bathed in the lake with her. Today, Srella didn’t feel in the mood for swimming. Instead she lounged in a chair under a canopy, reading and waiting with a towel and fresh clothing for when her lady tired of the water.

Srella’s book had reached the climax when the main character’s secret identity as a chivalrous thief and roof gargoyle got exposed. Embarrassingly, she was so engrossed that she did not notice the intruder until a splash.

A dirty figure stood waist-deep in the water and patted Amaranth’s leg. “Your scales feel hard as silver, but warm,” she said worshipfully.

Srella winced and covered her eyes. She waited to hear either the crunch of jaws snapping down or feel the icy blast of frost breath.

The lunatic laughed. “You’re even more beautiful up close. A diamond would turn into a pebble compared to you. The air around you tastes like the beginning of a winter storm. You’re even better than I imagined. Where I come from, when people think about magic, they think about you. Dragons. You are the embodiment of myth and legend. You are all that is wonderful and enchanting. It is my profoundest honor to be in your presence.”

Dragons tended to be susceptible to flattery. It was their second most defining characteristic after the greed. Srella dared open her eyes. The suicidal person was hugging Amaranth’s leg like a tree trunk and nuzzling her scales. Srella closed her eyes.

“Thank you for existing.” The lunatic’s hoarse voice filled with reverence. “Thank you for being born into this world. Thank you for being right here, right now, so that I could meet you. Thank you for being perfect. Thank you for making everything that I endured worth it so that I could find you. Thank you for being my reason for living.”

It should have sounded like obsequious lies, but the strange woman spoke with the blazing, brilliant conviction of the insane, so certain that the world around her seemed to stand still for one brief, impossible moment.

Then the madwoman toppled forward into the water. She did not resurface. Bubbles rose up from where she’d sunk.

In a crack that shattered the air, Amaranth transformed. In her human form, she stood a head taller than any man. Her skin was flawless and pale as snow. Long white hair hung straight down to her waist. Her bangs stopped just before her silver eyes. Even her lips were colorless.

Amaranth reached under the water and dragged up the lunatic by her collar. The duchess raised an eyebrow quizzically. The lunatic hung limp and unconscious.

“Allow me to help you, my lady. You’re getting dirt on yourself.” Srella rushed forward with towels. One she placed on the ground, so Amaranth could set down the lunatic. She presented the other towel to the duchess, then a silver robe after her lady had dried herself.

The lunatic became even more pitiful up close. She looked starved and wasted. Her withered fingers ended in cracked nails caked in soot and blood. Tear tracks ran down the ashes on her face. It seemed more like she wore dirt than clothing. Her feet were the most horrific sight. She must have been walking barefoot across the hot stone. Horrible cuts covered her feet, yet they were healing before Srella’s eyes. The soles of her feet looked oddly grey. A pebble stuck out one heel. To Srella’s horror, she realized that this woman’s cuts had been healing her skin on top of the debris, so that dirt and fragments of rocks had gotten stuck under her skin. Yet she’d kept walking even as the rock dug into her flesh with each step. What could make someone so desperate?

Bile rose. Srella put a fist over her mouth and breathed deeply until the desire to vomit passed. When she could speak again, she said, “My lady, this poor madwoman clearly did not mean any harm.”

“Of course I’m not going to execute her, Srella. I created that rule for voyeuristic perverts, not a delirious foreigner who didn’t know.” Amaranth leaned down and examined the lunatic’s face. For some strange reason, the grievously injured woman smiled in her sleep. Amaranth chuckled mischievously. “I just received quite a unique compliment. That’s at least worth a visit from the castle healer, a meal, and a night’s rest in a guest bedroom.”

Chapter Text

When Janie felt soft cushions underneath her back, she believed she’d woken up in a new, third world. She could not have gone home, because she’d already learned that to be impossible and because the air smelled like a spice she could not recognize. Yet more unfamiliarity killed any small hope. Once she took the time to think, she realized that transmigrating a second time would be unlikely. Her cursed body was too tough to die.

Janie opened her eyes and stared up at a blue canopy with a scent packet dangling from one corner. A blue and green quilt covered her. For the first time in a long time, she felt completely rested and pain-free. When she swung her legs over the bed, there was not even the slightest trace of injury on her bare feet. Being clean had never felt so amazing. She could have wept from relief when she touched her dry, fluffy hair. But apparently there was no fast cure for starvation. Her withered legs had no strength. The moment she rested her weight on her feet, she fell forward.

A white puff of air rushed forward and supported Janie with two bits of pressure under her armpits.

“Thank you,” she said out of habit. The magic did not react. But it continued to support her as she hobbled across the round silken carpet, past an armoire, to the window.

A flying city spread out below, the pointed rooftops gleaming in the sunlight. The buildings ran down the mountain, some embedded into the rock and some floating adjacent. People bustled down streets with guardrails, accompanied by rock creatures carrying packages. When Janie looked up, she saw square towers and a silver and purple striped flag rising up from the building she inhabited, then clouds. She was at the top of the city.

The existence of a flying castle made Janie once again wonder if she’d ended up in a new world. Fear clenched around her heart. Had she lost her dragon already? One didn’t expect to hold onto dragons for long, but even so, she should have at least touched the tail while she had the chance.

The door opened, and a woman tall enough to reach the doorway swept in. She looked like an ice queen from a fairy tale, with her pale and smooth beauty. She had a face to make a sculptor faint from trying to capture it, a long neck like a swan, and her hair flowed like a curtain over her fur cloak. She’d dressed in a masculine style reminiscent of medieval Europe: a pants and blue coat embroidered with silver thread and clear gemstones. Crystals dangled from her ears and a blazing blue stone hung over her forehead like a crown. Long fingers held a steaming bowl of soup.

“You’re the dragon,” Janie breathed, all her reverence and awe returning. This meant she must be in the same world after all. She wanted to touch those beautiful hands ending in perfect blue nails, but she lacked the nerve when no longer delirious. It seemed much more embarrassing to cling to a humanoid form.

Pale lips curved into a small smile. “You recognize me?”

“You have the same silver eyes with those entrancing slitted pupils. And you feel the same.” Janie could not exactly explain why. It might have been the crackling of power in the air. But more than any other minor clue, only this woman invoked the same sense of wonder.

“Sit down,” the dragon ordered.

Janie collapsed in the rocking chair by her bed, obeying that melodious voice with her heart not her brain. The supportive gust of wind left her and ran to tangle around the dragon’s legs.

The dragon placed a bowl of soup into Janie’s hands. “The castle healer was able to repair your injuries and clean you off, but only food will cure malnutrition. I would normally provide finer fare to a guest, but the healer explained your stomach could not handle it.”

“That explains why I threw up the first food I ate.” Janie expected she should have died from eating too fast after starving, except this worthless body refused to die.

“You don’t seem to know who I am.”

Janie took a sip of soup. It tasted funny again, a sweet spice she did not know, but she didn’t let it bother her because she was too busy soaking in every last detail of the dragon’s face. “You’re beautiful.”

“So you’ve told me. I’m Amaranth, the Duchess of Uvom.” A flawless eyebrow raised. “Normally an intruder who spied on my bath would be executed. I have spared your life and offered my hospitality. At the least, you could give me your name.”

Janie didn’t apologize, because she would have done it again and she didn’t believe in fake, lying apologies. “I wish I could tell you my name, but I’m under a translation spell that messes it up. My name is Janie Anong, but you’re going to hear a string of nonsense.”

“I heard you say God is Gracious Beautiful Woman.” Amaranth looked mildly amused.

Janie soaked in every last movement of the dragon’s facial muscles. “Huh, I didn’t even know that my last name meant Beautiful Woman. Weird. Plenty of men have my last name too. I gotta wonder how that happened.”

“You might be able to write down your name.” Amaranth snapped her fingers. The wind brought over a parchment and a feather pen. “If you write the words, they will be translated. Try spelling out the sounds instead. That might get around the spell and allow me to understand you, depending on the parameters.”

“Whoa.” Janie gaped at the parchment, then grabbed the floating pen. She wrote out Jey-nee Ah-nong.

“Janie Anong,” Amaranth said with satisfaction. She pronounced Janie with a soft rather than hard a, but that didn’t matter. For the first time in a long time, Janie heard her name on another person’s lips.

Tears fell down into the soup bowl. “Thank you,” Janie whispered. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She gulped and rubbed her face. “I thought I’d never hear my name again.”

Amaranth procured a handkerchief from her pocket. “Where do you come from?”

“I was summoned from another world.” Before Janie had decided not to tell anyone, but she couldn’t bring herself to lie to her perfect savior.

“Like the heroes from millennium ago? Shall we expect another Calamity? Should I be honored to have such a powerful guest?” With barely a change in expression, Amaranth conveyed amused skepticism. That, too, sounded lovely in her musical voice.

“I think it was an accident. I appeared on top of a dead Calamity, in the place you call the Cursed Lands. My power is defective, so I can’t use any magic. All I’ve got is faster than usual healing.” Janie did not consider this to be a lie. A power that ripped her own body to shreds was certainly defective. When she remembered that moment of pure pain, even her long starvation became nothing in comparison. She would never use it again unless she reached the point of trying to end her own life.

“Hmmm. A malfunctioning summoning could have caused the devastation of the Cursed Forest.” Amaranth fixed Janie with a piercing gaze. “Alternatively, you could be either lying or deluded.”

“I’m not lying, but I can’t tell you if I’m deluded or not. I’ve been wondering for a while if I’ve gone mad.” Janie drank her soup slowly. It went down easier when she didn’t rush it. She could hold back despite her hunger because she didn’t want to be messy in front of a noble dragon.

“You do not seem like a liar, and I usually have good judgement. I don’t suppose you can tell me something only someone from another world would know?”

As Janie gazed into those draconic eyes, for some reason, what first came to mind was a song from the video game Skyrim: The Dragonborn Comes.

Janie sang: “Our hero, our hero, claims a warrior’s heart

“I tell you, I tell you, the Dragonborn comes

“With a voice wielding power of the ancient Nordarts

“Believe, believe, the Dragonborn comes.”

When the entire song finished, Amaranth stared expressionlessly. Janie thought her performance had been a success, though. The clue lay in the slight movement of the dragon’s eyebrows. “Interesting. What is a dragonborn?”

“Um.” Janie didn’t want to explain that dragonborn killed dragons, but it seemed a ridiculously petty reason to lie. She avoided it instead. “My world doesn’t have dragons, but we’ve always admired them. We made up a story about a human with a dragon’s soul. But it’s only a story for fun, not anything real.”

“It was unlike anything I’ve heard. You have earned your keep for one more day.” Amaranth gestured, and the wind rippled through the air. “These are wisps. They are not intelligent, but they obey simple orders and carry out tasks around my castle. Should you require anything, you may order this wisp. If it cannot help you, then it will summon someone who can. You may move about the castle if you wish, and the wisp will guide you and block off any areas off-limits. If you decide to leave, then my servants will arrange for a package of necessities and basic information about the area for your journey.” Amaranth turned toward the door. “I’ll probably get tired of you and turn you out tomorrow.”

“That’s perfectly all right, it was already my life’s meaning to have met you,” Janie said amiably. “I don’t have anything besides a song to offer in return, and I don’t have the right to expect anything from you. Still, I have one small request. Whenever you get tired of me, would you mind killing me instead of making me leave? Please eat me or burn me to ashes so not a single trace of me remains in this wretched, hateful world.”

Amaranth whirled around with a frown. “Are you trying to guilt me into letting you stay?”

“No, not at all.” Janie could see why it would seem that way. She’d hoped a death wouldn’t be such a big request for a dragon the way it would be for a human. “I’ve already completely given up on living. I only wanted to see a dragon before I died, and now I have. I tried to kill myself before, but it was scary. I’m afraid of inconveniencing other people with my death, too. But you seem like someone who could destroy my body faster than it could heal, so I thought you might be able to end my life quickly and painlessly. Please don’t take this as me pressuring you to let me freeload off you forever. That’s not my intention at all. I would rather you tire of me quickly so I can stop living.”

“When you say it like that, it makes me too annoyed to let you die.” Amaranth gestured expansively. “You are in Uvom, the city of magic and freedom. It would disgrace our hospitality if you could find nothing here worth living for. Although, if you prove so small-minded, I suppose it’s none of my concern.”

Janie felt heartbroken to have offended her dragon. “You’re worth living for, of course. You’re the only thing of value to me in this world—that’s why I wanted you to end my life. But I owe you already, I won’t ask if it’s a burden. Whatever you do to me, kill me or discard me, I will accept it. I won’t die if that would distress you.”

“You, distress me? You presume too much.” Amaranth swept out of the room, the wind slamming the door behind her.

Already Janie regretted her offer not to die, because she’d meant every word she’d said. She no longer cared about anything. She’d hit despair and come out the other side. She’d accepted that anything could be taken away from her in a heartbeat, so there was no point in trying to rebuild. Joy was fragile and suffering inevitable. She would simply accept every precious moment that she could be near her dragon without any expectations.

She raised the bowl to her lips and drank more soup. She needed to eat because Amaranth had promised to come back tomorrow.

For an entire week—which meant ten days in this part of the world—Amaranth visited her guest in the evening after completing her work. The visits grew longer each time. Every time, Amaranth left tossing the same words over her shoulder: “I’ll probably tire of you tomorrow.” Srella wondered when her mistress had first realized she was deluding herself. Srella had figured that out on day five.

By the eleventh day, Amaranth had stopped making any pretense of ending this arrangement and started doing her paperwork in the guest bedroom.

Music often drifted out of the room. The lunatic had a lovely contralto croon. The lyrics were, to put it kindly, completely nonsensical:

“Looking so bad, often so sad; You’re not into bad boys.”

“Hush, little baby don’t say a word; Papa’s gonna buy you a mocking bird.”

“I’m a Foreign Girl, in the Foreign World; Life in plastic, it’s fantastic.”

The lunatic told fantastical stories too. A couple times, the lunatic talked about interesting devices such as self-propelled carriages, but it soon because obvious she didn’t have the knowledge to actually replicate any of these items.

The kitchens were busy at work trying to duplicate every kind of food the lunatic requested. She tried eighty-six different drinks before she proclaimed one of them to be close enough to tea. A junior chef received an Uvom sovereign as a reward. Next, the Head Chef used a combination of sensory-altering magic and rare spices to create a replica of Chicken Parmesan. The lunatic had wept to taste it. All the chefs had gotten fired up at the competition, both because of the monetary awards and the challenge. Srella had once overheard the Head Chef lamenting working for a mistress who often preferred to eat her animals raw. Everyone eagerly pursued recreating the mysterious ultimate prize, chocolate.

Srella hadn’t completely decided if the guest actually came from another world or not. Previously, Srella had not believed in other worlds. The heroes who had slain the Calamities a thousand years ago must have had divine power, but stories about other worlds just seemed like a way for all the royal families who claimed to be descendants to make themselves seem special. However, the strange woman produced such a vast volume of nonsense that would have taken a very energetic imagination to spin it out of nothing. No one who had special powers would have ended up in such a wrecked state, but perhaps the other worlds produced weaklings as well as heroes.

The Cursed Lands had started to sprout real plants instead of the twisted metallic ones for the first time in a millennium. Srella had no idea what to make of that.

On the third week, Amaranth told Srella, “Here’s a key to Janie’s room for delivering requests. I provided one to the wisps already, and one to a golem for larger deliveries. I’ve changed my mind about her wandering around the castle. She’s not well.”

“Uh-huh,” Srella said, because it wasn’t her business to question her lady. However, she thought it time to give a warning.

Srella used the next time Janie requested tea as an excuse, even though a wisp could have brought it equally well.

Janie curled up on her bed, reading a romance book. She wore a flowing orange gown with flowers embroidered down the long sleeves. The necklace with a large red Synth gemstone had come from Duchess Amaranth’s personal jewelry. Srella jumped with surprise. She had not realized matters had gone so far that Amaranth was giving out gifts from her hoard.

At the sound of the tea sloshing on the tray, Janie looked up. “Thank you for bringing my tea, Srella.” She’d gotten better at pronouncing the “sr,” which should have more a suh than a sih sound. In turn, Srella had mostly mastered the hard a sound in Janie that didn’t exist in her own language. Janie smiled. “Amaranth said you recommended this book, it’s very good.”

First name terms with the duchess? Srella set down the tray. “You two have gotten very close. Do you understand what it means to become close to a dragon?”

Srella delivered this warning to all the new maids who started working at the castle. Amaranth wasn’t as bad as some dragons. People could quit her employ. Once a maid had left to get married and been given a giant bag of coins as a wedding gift. The first time her new husband had punched her, Amaranth had stopped by to freeze him into an icicle, and no one ever found out how she knew about it. Which wasn’t a bad thing, in Srella’s eyes. But she thought people deserved a warning that once you’d lived in Amaranth’s home long enough for her to remember your name, you had a dragon in your business for the rest of your life. Especially because quite a few people applied to work at the castle hoping to only stay briefly and obtain the generous severance package.

Janie nodded, which seemed to be a way of saying yes. It was catching on around the castle ever since Amaranth had started doing it too. “Yes, dragons are known for their possessiveness where I come from too. I won’t become overly optimistic and read too much into it, but I’d be honored if Amaranth would treat me like her toy.”

It wasn’t any of Srella’s business as long as the other understood what she was getting into. The strange woman didn’t have anywhere else to go, so maybe this would satisfy the needs of both parties. “My lady has a fierce reputation outside the city, but if you’re loyal to her then she’ll be good to you in return. If she no longer requires your company, she will provide you with the means to live a good life on your own. You need not fear being put out on the street.”

“Do you like your job?” Janie asked.

“Of course I do. I’m proud to be Duchess Amaranth’s personal maid.” In the city of Uvom, cleaning and fetching and most of the boring bits of the job were done by wisps or golems. Srella’s main work was fashion advice, dressing, and doing her lady’s hair. Since Srella enjoyed fashion, she liked those parts of her job, and it didn’t take up all her day either. She’d been frightened of working for a dragon when she’d first started. Duchess Amaranth had a reputation as the ice-cold master of this land, destroyer of armies, and rumored puppet master behind a dozen assassinations. But although Amaranth was cold to her unwanted suitors and ruthless to her enemies, she’d never even raised her voice to a servant. On Srella’s first week on the job, she’d accidentally spilled a drink on her mistress’ lap, and Amaranth had laughed it off. Amaranth treated what belonged to her with care and protection, and that included this entire city. Srella considered her lady as close to a friend as possible with the employer-employee barrier.

“Aw, I’m jealous.” Janie leaned back. “I asked Amaranth if I could work as a maid, but she didn’t like the idea. I want to brush her hair.”

Amused, Srella said, “If you asked to brush her hair instead of something that would require you to leave this room, then you’d get a different reaction.” Those two hadn’t even progressed so far? What a pair of hopeless fools. Amaranth might have a legendary horde of suitors, but Srella doubted her lady had ever been in love.

Srella allowed herself to be drawn into a book conversation before she made her excuses and left.

Amaranth returned from the party wearing an beguilingly androgenous outfit with a white doublet ending in a skirt made from dozens of layers of lace and gemstones. She seemed as ethereal as a ghost, only made flesh and blood by the chiming of the strands of gems and the click of her high heels. Her hair had been done up in a bun with a white-blue jewel the size of a fist in the silver pin. The dash of blue makeup around her eyes empathized her serpentine beauty. The party must not have pleased her, because she tossed her furred cloak at a wisp and stormed up to her office.

Srella, who knew her lady’s tastes, ordered a hot, sweet beverage and carried it upstairs. Laughter drifted through the door. Peeking through the keyhole, Srella saw Janie sitting on Amaranth’s lap as Amaranth wrote (probably notes from her encounters). This was not the first time Amaranth had invited Janie into her office while she worked. Several times, she’d taken the foreigner in a ride about the city with a cloak hiding her face from view as if no one else should see it. Once again, Srella knew her lady well enough to know she wanted some time for just the two of them more than a drink. She drank the beverage herself while rereading a favorite book.

When Amaranth retired to her vanity room, Srella was ready. Part of her job was keeping the duchess informed on the palace gossip. While undoing the pins in her lady’s hair, she said, “Everyone feels concerned about the orc raids in Dovar spreading to us. There are rumors of the Gryphon Prince courting you, and people think it’s a good match. That opinion has been helped along by the five barrels of wine he gifted freely to our cellars.”

Amaranth pinched her forehead. “I’m surrounded by fools, Srella. The orcs conduct raids but don’t hold territory. They are no serious threat. I’m just as happy to see them keep our neighbors in Dovar distracted from bothering us. And the Gryphon Prince cannot be trusted. He’d love to swallow up our city and use us in his succession battle. If I ever could bring myself to be saddled with any suitor, it certainly wouldn’t be him.”

“Do you think Dovar means war again, my lady?” Srella asked. This was bolder than she usually got, but it had been preying on her mind.

“They certainly do. We’ll see how long the orcs distract them, but it’s inevitable.” Amaranth patted Srella’s hand. “I’ll drive them off, as I did last time.”

Srella felt ashamed of making her mistress comfort her, when it should be the other way around. Amaranth had to keep up a mask of strength for the entire city, and ought to at least be able to relax in her own private rooms. Furthermore, Srella hated to think of her lady going off to fight alone again.

The City-State of Uvom had long prized its independence and its reputation as a safe haven for all types of magic, including kinds outlawed in other countries. Freedom was the primary value of the city. Uvom had low taxes and no draft into the military, even in wartime. These were fine principles, but it left little money for a military or mercenaries. The most powerful local magicians tended to teleport away as soon as the city fell under threat. Uvom, beautiful and prosperous and full of magical artifacts, had larger countries on all sides who would love to gobble up the city.

The previous duchess had conceived an unusual idea for defense of her city: she had bribed a frost dragon with a priceless enchanted statue to conceive a child with her. The dragon had left afterward, having voluntarily forfeited any involvement with his daughter. Amaranth had been raised to be the city’s weapon.

The previous duchess had died young: some said to poison, others said she’d known of her own fatal illness when she’d made a plan to protect her city. Amaranth had been fourteen years old when she’d inherited the title of duchess. She’d been fourteen years old the first time she’d gone out to battle the armies of Dovar, completely alone.

“Dovar lost to you three times already. If they come again, they’ll have new anti-dragon measures.”

Srella had not meant to speak aloud. She didn’t realize she had, until her lady responded: “I’m aware of their plans. Our local magicians may not be the most combat-capable, but they are excellent at scrying.”

Srella wet her lips, then delivered the most unwelcome bit of news: “Many staff feel concerned that you have granted such favor to a commoner, instead of a suitor who would be more useful to the city. This has created a mild disdain toward Janie Anong, although she does not have enough contact with other people to notice and I doubt it will go beyond talk.”

Amaranth stiffened, the air around her cooling. “They are casting their blame at the wrong person. I had resolved to never enter an arranged marriage since long before I met Janie. Every suitor always includes conceiving a child as part of the marriage contract. Even the female suitors want a child with dragon blood by some magical means. I will never bear a child who would be used as a weapon.”

Srella flinched at the old pain lurking behind those words. Not many people would pity Amaranth for her dangerous duties, since they came at the reward of great wealth and power. Commoners suffered more for far less reward. Amaranth was no prisoner. If she’d ever decided that Uvom was too much trouble to defend, no one could have stopped her from leaving. A dragon could set up a nest on top of any isolated mountain. But Amaranth loved this city. She would never leave.

“My lady, I will correct these rumors by pointing out the trouble you might have if you favored one suitor over another.” Srella tried to keep her voice steady and not let her anxiety slip out. It would be unprofessional.

Srella’s true fear was that if Amaranth did not pick a marriage then it would be taken by force. But she did not say it. Amaranth already knew.

Janie stared down at the five puncture marks in her wrist. Forks in this other world had five tines instead of four. That had annoyed her so much that she’d stabbed herself. For some reason, the mildness of the pain annoyed her even more. She squeezed her wrist, forcing the blood to leak out. Fat, red drops ran down her skin. She watched as if from a distance as they rolled down her hand and hit the carpet.

“What are you doing, Janie?” Amaranth moved from the doorway in a flash, wrapping a handkerchief around Janie’s wrist. “Wisp, healing,” she ordered urgently.

“The fork had the wrong number of tines,” Janie said.

“I can have one made with whatever number you want.” A wisp carried over a bottle. Amaranth squeezed a few drops on Janie’s wrist, and the injury healed. “Is that why you didn’t finish your food?” She inclined her head at the half-eaten pasta designed to imitate spaghetti.

Janie shook her head. “I got hungry. Then I got mad at my stomach for daring to be hungry after I’ve been feeding it so much. I starved for at least thirty days. It might have been longer, I lost track. It felt like my stomach was trying to eat its way out of my body. No matter how hungry I got…it never stopped…” Janie shuddered. She had a sudden desire to cut out her own stomach and throw it at the wall. That would teach it to torment her with hunger. But that would upset Amaranth. Already Amaranth had gotten worked up over a few drops of blood. Those silver eyes weren’t even angry, they were sad. That made it even worse.

Janie tried to explain. “I should be dead. I thought I might already be dead. Maybe I dreamed up a beautiful dragon to save me as a final hallucination before I passed on? That sounded like something I might do. You’re too perfect to be real. I wanted to make myself bleed to prove that I’m alive. But it didn’t feel painful enough, so I kept squeezing out more blood.” Janie had been about to stab herself again but saying that would probably make Amaranth feel worse. She hung her head. “I’m sorry. I can’t even sit here quietly in my room without causing trouble. I’m a nuisance. You’ve given me so much, I just…I can’t believe it’s real. Every time I sleep, I’m scared I’ll wake up in some new hellish place. Even when I can believe this world is real, I can’t believe it’s permanent.”

Amaranth’s eyebrows drew together, her lovely white eyelashes fluttering. “This is because I kept telling you that I would throw you out tomorrow. I’m sorry. I never should have said that. I’m not going anywhere.” She knelt down before the chair and took Janie’s hands.

“It’s not your fault.” Janie felt tears sting her eyes. “I lost everything. My family, my friends, my hometown, every taste and sight and activity that I ever loved. How can I believe that it won’t happen again?”

Amaranth’s grip tightened. “Because I am Amaranth, Duchess of Uvom and Dragon of Frost. I will allow nothing to take away what I treasure. If you vanish, then I will find you.”

“Okay,” Janie whispered. Those hands grounded her in this world. She did not know dream from reality, but this love felt real. “It’s painful for me to stay alive. I wish sometimes that I could sleep and not wake up. But as long as you want me to live, I promise I will keep living. I would do anything for you. You’re my reason for existing.”

Amaranth’s nostrils flared as if tasting a particularly delicious scent. “Uvom doesn’t allow people to be owned. We’re the city of freedom—we have no slavery, no serfs, no prisons. Crimes are settled with fines, death, or exile. I’ve always accepted the human ways no matter what I need…” With sudden urgency, she grabbed Janie’s face. “If you don’t want your life, then let me have it. If you can’t love your body, then let me own it instead. Become mine, body and soul.” Her hissing syllables verged on inhuman. “My beautiful Janie, if you will give me your everything then I will devote my life to you in return. I will look after you. I will never leave you alone. And I always keep my promises.”

“Yes, please.” Tears flowed freely down Janie’s cheeks. “I love you, Amaranth. I need you. Please, make me feel alive.”

Amaranth licked the tears off Janie’s face, then crushed their lips together.

Amaranth tasted like mint and frost. She kissed hungrily, as if she wanted to force her tongue down Janie’s throat. Janie tried to return the kiss, but between the claws gripping her face and the ferocious tongue, she could barely move.

When they came up for air, Janie gasped deeply. Amaranth licked Janie’s lips, seeming fascinated with the freckle on her lower lip.

“Please,” Janie murmured between gasps. “Leave a mark on me. I want proof that you were here when you next have to leave this room. I want to carry you on my skin.”

Amaranth growled incoherently, then nipped Janie’s neck. She didn’t quite break skin, but she sucked down until Janie felt the blood rushing there. That would leave a mark.

The room spun. Janie had the same sense again that this could not be real, that such an impossibly perfect beauty could not be smiling at her as if she made the world go around the sun. But her heart beat madly, proving she was alive.

“Hold me,” Janie begged, wrapping her arms around Amaranth’s shoulders. “Touch me everywhere. Mark me everywhere. I don’t want to think about anything except you.”

With a groan, Amaranth lifted Janie out of her chair and tossed her onto the bed. Then Amaranth straddled her, breath tickling her ear and hands ghosting over her body. Janie moaned and bucked, wanting more contact, not merely the teasing hints.

Amaranth’s lovely neck presented a tempting target. Janie lunged and bit, more clumsily than when Amaranth had done it, wanting to leave a mark in return, a proof of this mad love consuming both of them. Amaranth moaned. Janie couldn’t help feeling pride at that choked noise.

A finger pushed Janie back onto the bed. The pressure in the air became even stronger. Amaranth’s pupils had dilated until the silver had consumed the black. Horns poked out of her forehead and rash of scales ran down her neck and arms. She panted as if on the verge of losing all control. The aura of draconic greed was so strong that Janie could not move a muscle.

“Oh, Janie. I was trying to be slow and gentle.” Amaranth grabbed the front of Janie’s dress and ripped. Janie gasped as her nipples prickled, suddenly exposed to the air. Amaranth held out the blue fabric over the side of the bed, then let it slip between her fingers and drop to the floor with a shimmering sound. The light in her eyes could not be called sane. “You don’t need to worry about thinking, because by the time I’m done with you, you’ll no longer be conscious.”

Amaranth always kept her promises.

Chapter Text

Srella choked when she learned Amaranth was moving Janie and all her belongings into the hoard. That was…on an entirely different level. No one was allowed inside Amaranth’s hoard. She kept all her greatest treasures in a tower at the very top of the castle, a room large enough for a dragon since Amaranth preferred to sleep in dragon form. The hoard was tightly locked up behind both ancient and new magical protections, the most secure place in the castle—in the entire city. Srella was the only person allowed to even bring a message to that particular tower, so she’d gotten a few glimpses of the massive pile of coins and treasures in glass cases.

Amaranth had been overseeing the furniture moved in by golems, a smile on her face and flaunting the love bite on her neck with a low collar. It was only one bite compared to Janie who looked like someone had tried to taste every last inch of her skin. Srella got exactly one moment to sidle up to Janie and whisper, “Becoming part of the hoard is more serious than marriage. You can get divorced. But a dragon will never let you leave a hoard.”

Janie raised her hands to her mouth, tears glistening in her eyes. “I’m so happy! Actually, even in my own world, I preferred not to leave my apartment. I only went out during weekdays because I needed a job to live. I avoid social interactions too. Talking to strangers gives me heartburn.”

Well, if Janie understood then it was her choice. And Janie didn’t seem like she could survive on her own either. Srella felt glad her lady had found someone on the same wavelength who didn’t try to escape out the window like a normal person.

Amaranth became more paranoid after someone poisoned her. Although a dragon could shrug off poison, she feared her precious treasure being targeted too. Amaranth did not allow Janie outside the hoard. Every meal, Amaranth tested for poison personally through magical means, then fed to Janie.

On the day that Srella received a missive from the Gryphon Prince warning about an invasion from Dovar in a week, she deemed it urgent enough to disrupt Amaranth during hoard time. She climbed the stairs, feeling the pressure of magic brushing against her but not harming her. Anyone without special permission would have been ripped to shreds a few times over.

At the top of the stairs, Srella heard voices. She stopped.

In the rumble of her voice in dragon form, Amaranth complained, “Then the ambassador from Gerlick made a snide comment about me wearing pants, and I nearly ate him. I only stopped myself because then I would have had to eat his entire retinue, and I didn’t want to kiss you with bad breath.”

Janie giggled. “I wouldn’t care if you did.” There was a sound like someone running fingers across scales. “You’re the coolest and most awesome dragon in existence. It should be their honor to be eaten by you.”

Amaranth purred loud enough to shake the door.

To be honest, Srella had never understood what her lady saw in Janie. Now she thought she might see at least part of it. Amaranth always had to put on an icy mask before both her city and her enemies. It must be refreshing to receive unconditional love from someone who believed her to be perfect no matter what she did.

Srella turned around and left, deciding the letter could wait a bit longer.

Janie’s favorite place in the world was to sit between a dragon’s claws and lean back against the softer scales of the underbelly. She’d nearly drifted off to sleep when Amaranth said, “I brought a treat today.”

“Surprise me.” Janie opened her mouth.

“You have to tell me if it isn’t perfect yet. Don’t lie to spare my feelings.” Amaranth controlled the wind to pop a brown square into Janie’s mouth.

The velvety sweetness hit her tongue, with just a hint of bitterness. Janie gasped. “Chocolate! You recreated chocolate. It’s the real thing. Thank you, you’re the best.” She hugged and kissed the closest claw.

“I should be thanking you,” Amaranth said smugly. “The city needs the money I’ll make from selling this. We’re working on mass-producing it, preferably without the need for magic flavoring.” She lifted Janie up with a claw. “As much as it pains me, I’m afraid I have to leave.” The bed rested under a canopy in the corner of the tower, with a panel that could be closed to block out the glowing balls of lights. Amaranth set Janie down, then fastened a golden chain around her wrist with a touch of magic. The cuff was comfortably padded, and Janie liked having it because it helped her resist the temptation to cut herself when she started to doubt the reality of the world. Amaranth kept all sharp objects out of reach whenever she left.

Amaranth transformed into a human, then grabbed a robe off the wall rack to slip around her shoulders. Janie goggled at those long, pale legs. “Come over here for a moment, I want to kiss you.”

“As if you’d stop at a kiss.” Amaranth cast an amused look over her shoulder. “I can’t, not today. I have an important matter to attend to. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone.” She gestured at a cabinet on the wall that had enchanted cooling properties. “I left meals for you, all ones that you can eat with your fingers. The wisps will bring you food at mealtime. Please try to eat without me. I’ll be very upset if I return and find you haven’t eaten anything.”

If Amaranth couldn’t be back to feed Janie, then this must be very serious. But if the dragon hadn’t explained, that meant she didn’t want to talk about it. Janie gulped. “I promise to eat. Will…will you be back by nightfall?” Janie hated herself a little for asking, for adding to Amaranth’s burden. It was just that Janie didn’t have nightmares when she slept alongside Amaranth. As long as Janie could open her eyes and see that Amaranth was beside her, it chased away her fears of vanishing.

“I’ll do my best.” Amaranth blew a kiss before she left.

That was a very worrying answer. Amaranth always promised to return. But Amaranth didn’t make promises that she wasn’t absolutely certain she could keep.

Already Janie’s fear was returning, the sense that her world might crumble again. It nagged at her like an itch on her back she couldn’t quite scratch. She grabbed an enchanted seashell off her end table and activated it. The seashell held a recording of Amaranth’s voice, singing in the deep tones of dragon song. Janie used it to anchor herself in reality. She let the sound wash over her, convincing her that everything would be all right. She had to have faith that Amaranth would never leave her alone.

Before heading into battle, Amaranth gave Srella an enchanted dagger, a key, and instructions. “There’s a large-scale teleportation spell around my hoard. I’ve adjusted the wards to allow you in. If I fall in battle, then activate the teleportation by turning the key from the inside three complete rotations. It will transport you to a hidden location in the Cursed Lands. If I’ve been captured, then wait for me. If I die…I expect Janie can’t survive without me. I know she’d rather I kill her than leave her alone, but in the end, I can’t do it.” Amaranth had bitten her nails down to stubs, and she still bit again. “If I lose, I will do my best to suffer the indignity of capture, for her sake.”

Srella took the weapon and key with trembling hands, knowing full well the weight of the trust she’d been given. “Is the situation so dire, my lady?”

“I can handle Dovar’s army. They’re merely sending a regiment to test me and their new weapons.” Amaranth tossed back her head dismissively. “It’s what comes after that worries me. I’m certain someone will attempt another attack while I’m weakened, but none of my scrying has identified who. That means I have a traitor to weed out when I return.”

But Amaranth did not return.

As expected, the Dovar army had been frozen into ice statues with a blast of breath from above. The rest ran off, but not before putting two ballista bolts into Amaranth’s wings.

Srella knew something had gone wrong when no healers helped Amaranth. They ought to at least have enough courage to cast spells of aid from behind the walls.

The gryphon army struck moments later, besetting Amaranth from all sides and finally dragging her down in an enchanted net. Srella had been watching from a window at the base of the tower containing the hoard. When she knew that hope had been lost, she ran up the stairs. The protection around the hoard would hold intruders off for a while, but with a high probability of traitors within, there was no time to waste. Although there was nothing Srella could do for Amaranth, she would damn well carry out her lady’s last orders.

“Amaranth?” Janie called hopefully as the door opened.

“I’m afraid not. The Gryphon Prince captured her, and I’ve been given orders to take you to safety. She promised to return for you.”

Janie sat on the bed with one hand cuffed to the headboard and her knees pulled up to her chest. She clutched her hair. “I should have asked more questions. Stupid, stupid, stupid!” She swung her legs over the bed, her feet bare. “It’s my turn to help Amaranth. No matter how painful it will be, I can do it for Amaranth’s sake.”

Srella appreciated the sentiment but what was one weak human woman going to do? “My lady gave me orders to get you to safety. The best thing you can do for her is flee so you can’t be taken hostage—what are you doing?!”

Janie snapped the cuff around her wrist as if it had been made of paper. “Oh, this is just here to remind me not to get within grabbing range of sharp objects.”

…Did Amaranth know that the cuff was only a reminder? Srella suspected that her lady did not.

Janie walked out the door, past a gaping and stammering Srella. That also should not be possible. The magic around the hoard carefully controlled who could get in and out. Srella could only open the door because Amaranth allowed it. And Janie was most certainly not allowed to leave. Snapping metal was one thing, that only took enhanced strength. But walking straight through the magical protections? Srella would have said nothing in the world could do it. There were beings who could break Amaranth’s power, yes, given time. But none who could have walked out as if that power had never existed.

Leaning out the window, Janie looked across the field below where night had just fallen and gryphons had raised their beaks to cheer. “The gryphons are the enemies, right? I should eliminate all of them but no one else?”

“Yes?” Srella said weakly, brain still struggling to catch up.

“Not destroying the entire city would be the hard part…Last time…I’ll try something small first.” Janie furrowed her brow. Her eyes held a brutal resignation, like someone who had walked out of hell only to turn around and head back down. Her voice did not tremble, did not hold any emotion at all. “Put to sleep every gryphon on this mountain.”

Who was she talking to? The universe? Herself?

For a brief moment, Srella believed that the mysterious lunatic who might or might not be from another world was going to save the day. She wanted to believe. It would have been a beautiful deus ex machina. But nothing happened. The gryphons continued their loud celebration. A group had started singing.

Srella sighed. “Let’s go back inside, I think the wards might be defective so we need to leave at once.”

“I need a goddamn tutorial,” Janie growled. “Does it need to be larger? More difficult? More destructive? Please don’t let me only have fire.” She took a deep breath. Her hand crept up to touch the love bite on her neck as if it was a lucky charm. Resolve filled her eyes. “Stop the heart of every gryphon on this mountain.”

Srella reached for Janie’s arm. “Pardon me but we don’t have time—” She froze.

Below, gryphons dropped to the ground like rain. Feathered bodies littered the rocks.

Janie fell to her knees, clutching the windowsill. “Ow…it hurts…my chest…” Slowly, she rose. “The gryphons are…falling?”

Why are YOU looking surprised? Srella wanted to scream but her brain wasn’t working.

“Hey, the pain didn’t last very long this time.” Janie touched her chest. “It must be because I used less power. Why the hell was the fire so big the first time? I only wanted to boil water!”

“Gah,” Srella said.

Janie pointed at the largest gryphon, screaming in distress. “Why is that one still alive? It seems potentially bad that I didn’t manage to get the biggest one…”

“That’s the Gryphon Prince.” Srella could tell by the massive red gemstone fastened at his chest. “He has exceptionally strong healing abilities, he wouldn’t die even if you stopped his heart.” It amazed her how calm her voice sounded. Perhaps shock had stopped her from running around screaming.

“Amaranth’s most annoying suitor? Then he captured her because…” Janie’s gaze turned colder than even the lady’s frost. She vanished.

It took Srella several breaths to believe what had happened. Then she ran down the stairs. The enemy was dead or distracted, and Srella had an enchanted dagger. She was going to cut her lady out of that net.

As Srella stepped across the blood-soaked ground, she found Janie holding something red in her hands. A mangled gryphon corpse lay at her feet. Srella breathed deeply, trying not to be sick.

“Hey, Srella!” Janie vanished, then reappeared so close their noses nearly touched. Madness gleamed in her eyes. “It turns out I can teleport if I know the name of the location or I’ve seen it before. Back when I was trapped in ash for over thirty days, I’d never seen any places in this world or learned their names. If a worthless excuse for a goddess hadn’t sent me with no information, I wouldn’t have needed to suffer! Isn’t that funny?” She didn’t sound amused. She sounded one second away from ripping out someone’s throat with her teeth.

“Oh.” Srella leaned backward, away from those eyes filled with a horrible pain and darkness. Wetness dripped on her feet. She stumbled a step back. “You’re…holding…”

“This? It’s a gryphon’s heart. Half a heart.” Janie held it level with her eyes and frowned. “He had crazy regeneration like you said. I probably should have burned him to death, but…I’m still scared of using fire. I just kept on ripping out pieces until he died.” She tossed the heart over her shoulder. “You know something funny? He started out screaming that he would kill me, but then by the end he was begging me to spare his life. I can’t understand it. If it was me, I’d have been grateful to die the moment I realized it wouldn’t be possible for me to have Amaranth.” She kicked the corpse with sudden viciousness. “You tried to take Amaranth from me with a love that fucking weak?!”

Srella realized that she’d wet herself slightly. She clamped her legs together, shame jolting her back to awareness. By instinct she drew her dagger, even though it would do no good.

Janie turned back around. “I might not have the fancy political connections or a legendary beauty that launches a thousand ships, but no one loves Amaranth more than me.” She smiled with a pure, childish, innocent joy. “It’s great that you’re here, Srella. You brought that dagger to free Amaranth, right? Someone needs to let her out of the net, but I don’t want her to see me. She’ll be furious if she finds me covered in blood and out of the hoard. I need to clean up and get back before she notices I was gone.” Janie pressed a finger to her lips. “This will be our secret, okay?” Then she teleported away.

Srella stood stunned for a moment, then a gust of icy wind got her moving in the direction of the cold. She stumbled over corpses, trying not to think about what she’d been stepping on in the darkness.

Amaranth wrenched off the last of the net just as Srella arrived. The net sent painful electricity down her wings with each movement, and her teeth were covered with blood. Some of it must be her own blood, as she coughed it up. The bolts still stuck to her wings.

“My lady!” Srella cried, rushing forward. “I brought a healing potion.” She’d snagged it on her way out of the tower. She tossed it into those jaws.

Amaranth swallowed down the potion, glass and all. The bolts flung out of her wings as she healed. “Ah, Srella, you brought a dagger to cut the net? I’ll make you a noble for this. Uvom doesn’t have much in the way of land, but I can give you a fortune and raise you to dame. Just promise me that you will still help me pick out outfits and hairstyles. No one else has your gift for fashion, and I don’t like other people touching my hair.”

“I didn’t even do anything,” Srella said. “You’d already gotten out on your own.”

“It means enough that you came.”

Srella realized that Amaranth had clawed her way out of the magical net on her own, despite the pain it had caused her, because she didn’t expect anyone to come to help her. Not even after the enemy had been defeated.

Amaranth looked around. “Clearly some other enemy found it amusing to return the gryphons’ trick to sender and attack them while they were distracted, but did you see who? It all happened very fast in the dark.”

“I—I—”

“That’s fine. I’ll figure it out later. I need to get to Janie. She’ll be horribly worried that I’ve been gone so long. She gets anxious when we’re separated.” Amaranth glanced at Srella as if expecting the maid to object and point out the thousand other more important tasks for the ruler of the city.

But Srella had no objections at all. Yes, my lady, please tend to the monster you brought home before she goes berserk again!

Srella followed Amaranth first because she needed to help her lady dress, then second because she needed to see if this situation was going to self-destruct.

When Amaranth opened the tower door, Janie sat on the bed again wearing a new dress. Somehow, she’d repaired the chain. Exactly how many different powers did she have? Even the heroes from legend were only supposed to have one.

Janie’s eyes drifted shut. “Not going to sleep.” She pinched herself. “Can’t sleep.” She pinched herself again, and again. Her arms were already covered with red marks.

“Stop.” Amaranth strode forward and grabbed Janie’s hands. “You’re under orders not to harm my property.”

“I’m sorry,” Janie whimpered. “I can’t sleep without you, Amaranth. If I have a nightmare about being trapped in the ash and wake up alone, then I’ll go insane. Promise that you’ll stay with me always.”

“I promise on my scales and hoard. My treasure, I’m sorry for leaving you on your own so long.” Amaranth seated Janie in her lap.

Janie put her arms around Amaranth and curled as close as if trying to mold their bodies into one. The human’s form was small and fragile-seeming in the dragon’s arms. “I saw something scary. Blood, blood is scary. I don’t like blood. I only want to stay in here where it’s safe.”

Amaranth stroked Janie’s hair. “Did you have a nightmare without me? My poor treasure. There, there. I’m here.”

Srella wanted to laugh hysterically at Janie requesting comfort because she’d been traumatized by the blood from her own massacre. However, it did not seem politic.

“Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me.” Janie buried her face in her lover’s neck. She looked like the picture of needy dependency: trembling, red-eyed, and desperate.

No one would believe Srella if she told them who was more dangerous of these two.

When Amaranth kissed Janie’s neck, Srella took that as her cue to get out of there.

Chapter Text

Not much changed for Srella as a result of becoming a Dame. She could have quit her job, but she enjoyed playing dress-up with her lady far too much to stop even if she no longer needed the money. Even before her promotion, she’d already spent most of her free time reading romance novels. She had no expensive tastes or hobbies. At the most, she bribed people to buy advance copies of her favorite books.

Amaranth had been busy at work rooting out several traitors. Their severed heads were on display over the city gates, enchanted to sing directions to travelers. Amaranth believed in sending a public message and making those who had harmed the city become useful.

One of the traitors had turned out to be her secretary. Since Amaranth had few people she trusted, she’d been relying on Srella increasingly. At times like these, Srella wished she had the skills to help her lady more. Perhaps Srella should find someone to give her secretarial lessons. At least she’d been able to take over managing her lady’s schedule.

Of course, Amaranth also launched an investigation into who had killed the gryphons. No one had personally witnessed it, and every scrying device had broken and continued to break if anyone tried to peak into the past. It was difficult to say if Janie had done that or if it had been an accidental side-effect of her power. The sheer power of the incidents could have made them blaze too brightly in time to be seen. The same had happened to people investigating the destruction of the Cursed Lands, making it clear the two events must be connected.

For an entire week, Srella debated on if she should tell her lady the truth about Janie. If Janie had been a threat, it would have been an easy decision. Srella was loyal to her lady. However, Janie did not seem to want anything except to soak up Amaranth’s attention and affections, which Amaranth enjoyed equally. They were both happy. If anything happened to disrupt the current arrangement, that was when Janie had the potential to become dangerous.

While Srella put off the decision, Amaranth was so busy preparing for the Annual Uvom Ball, she even did paperwork while Srella was doing up her hair into a bun. With a pin in her lips, Srella couldn’t help asking: “Couldn’t we delay the ball with the invasion as an excuse?”

“No, it needs to happen on-schedule as a show of strength.” Amaranth flipped a page. “The world should believe that I had the situation entirely under control all along, including anticipating the gryphon invasion. I need to work harder in order to protect Janie. The last incident was very distressing to her.”

“Huh,” Srella said. This was a diplomatic way of not saying, Actually the monster you brought home doesn’t need protection from anyone else.

In a very serious way, Amaranth said, “Janie lost everything, not only her home and her family but her entire culture. It’s a loss I can barely comprehend, maybe made worse by having no way to seek revenge or justice. I can’t allow her to lose me too. No one could survive losing everything twice in a row.”

This was the perfect excuse for Srella to point out that people from another world usually came with powers. She opened her mouth…then decided against it.

If Amaranth wanted to know, she already would. The clues were quite obvious. Janie had freely admitted to coming from another world. The destruction of the Cursed Lands and the slaughter of the gryphons seemed likely to be connected. Amaranth was smart, and she had all the clues if she wanted to put them together. Perhaps in order to protect her commitment to her strange relationship, she had subconsciously turned away from the truth. Srella believed in not interfering with other people’s choices.

Unfortunately, other powerful people were not so selectively blind.

As soon as Janie found out that dragons would be invited to the Uvom Annual Ball, she had to attend. “Dragons from around the world? Different types of dragons? Fire and frost and wind and acid dragons?” She tugged on Amaranth’s sleeve. “Pleeeeeease can’t I go?”

Amaranth’s brow crinkled. Her horns poked out, which in this case was a sign of irritation. “Given how the city withstood an invasion just recently, I can’t see it being safe.”

Kneeling on the bed, Janie wrapped her arms around Amaranth from behind and whispered her temptation straight into her lover’s ear. “Don’t you want to dress me up pretty and show me off to the world? You could chain me to your side.”

Indisputably, Amaranth looked tempted. The scrunching up of her nose proved it. “It wouldn’t be socially acceptable in human society.”

“Invisible chains?”

“Why do you need to see more dragons when you have me all to yourself?” Amaranth turned around, pushing Janie down and pinning her wrists to the bed.

“Uh…I want to compare them to you so I can find all the ways that you’re superior?”

“You’re cute when you equivocate.” Amaranth grabbed Janie’s wrists with one hand so she could tap her nose. “You just want to see other dragons. Back when we first met, you would have been happy no matter what dragon you found, wouldn’t you?”

Oh, dear, this time the jealousy sounded serious. Janie locked their gazes. “Any dragon would have been enough to glimpse before I died, but you’re the only dragon I live for.”

Amaranth’s cheeks pinked. “You smooth-talker.” A small smile hinted on her lips. Her long hair falling about her face, she bent down and nipped Janie’s earlobe. “How about this? You can come to the Annual Ball…if you’re not too tired to wake up by the time the ball starts.”

“Challenge accepted! Maybe this time I’ll tire you out—eek!”

As usual Amaranth won her bet, but she had drastically underestimated Janie’s desire to see more dragons.

Twer was a human, at least as far as he knew—he’d grown up in an orphanage. He had a strong constitution and some extra senses that hinted at something else somewhere in his family tree. For his work, it was better to present himself as a human, since he wanted to appear harmless to his clients. Twer called himself a broker. He made all kinds of things happen: deals, transfers of information, movement of powerful objects. His greatest asset was his enchanted glasses, which allowed him to transmit his memories to powerful clients. It was a completely reliable way for them to verify the truth of his words. He could also remove his own memories if requested, which spared the need for clients to kill him over what he knew.

At the Uvom Annual Ball, Twer had orders from a dozen clients to offer deals to the summoned hero. They didn’t know about each other, although the smart ones ought to be able to guess more than one person would have reached out to him. He was the best, after all.

A summoned hero was one of the most powerful entities in existence, and many people had been annoyed that a mid-level player like a mere duchess had gotten her hands on one. No one had been able to circumvent the block on seeing the exact events of the fall of the gryphon army, but Twer’s clients had been skilled enough to identify traces of the unique magic produced by the other worlders. They were not blind to the possibility that the young woman who the dragon duchess had taken as a lover might be a decoy for the real hero. Twer had a pocket watch that allowed him to detect traces from another world.

To Twer’s disappointment, Hero Janie did not appear at the ball. Duchess Amaranth had been swamped by people who all believed she’d been solely responsible for destroying the gryphons with some secret weapon—in other words, idiots. Twer had followed the signal emitting from his watch to the stables.

At first glance, the stables were uninhabited except for the unicorns mostly asleep in their stalls. However, someone was muttering from the window: “Oooo a serpentine dragon. Fluffy tail, very pettable. Probably no one else will arrive at this hour…hmm…maybe I’ll pet a unicorn before I leave.”

It must be an invisibility spell. Twer could recognize the hints from the subtle shift of air around the window. He bowed. (In his experience, important people appreciated obsequiousness.) “It’s my honor to meet you, Hero Janie.”

“Gah!” She seemed to have been startled out of her invisibility spell. She hopped down from the window ledge. As she landed, she rubbed her back as if it hurt. Her thick black hair, tan skin, and dark monolid eyes marked her as a foreigner to these parts, but not necessarily from another world. The hand on his watch pointing at her was far better evidence. She wore a simple white gown, clearly expensive judging from the fur collar. Although rumor said the visitor had been ill, she looked perfectly healthy now. Her round cheeks had filled out and had color. She wore a ring on each finger and her nails looked polished. “I’m not God is Gracious.”

“The gods aren’t gracious?” Twer asked, confused at how fast this conversation had gone off-script.

“Not to me, at least. I have some very bad blood with the gods of your world.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “Forget it. You clearly already know who I am. Look, if I hear you out, then will you not tell Amaranth that I was here?”

Twer loved it when someone struck a deal with him in exchange for something he would have done for free. He did not plan for the dragon to ever find out that he’d come into her home and accepted her hospitality with the goal of stealing from her hoard. He had a teleportation bracelet on his wrist and a tattoo that gave him an extra life on his heel, but that might not be enough. “I value client confidentiality very highly. Not a word of this conversation will pass my lips to your current patroness. I’m Landgrave Welvin.” He gave everyone fake names, it was nothing personal. Not a single person knew him by his birth name. “I represent the interests of some powerful individuals who would offer you employment.”

“I see we’ve entered the harem phase of the manga.” Janie rubbed her forehead, her eyes tired. “How did you know?”

It went against Twer’s soul to give out information for free. However, she’d allowed him to fulfil his mission at no cost to himself, and he thought it in his own best interests to keep the mood conversational rather than transactional. “You left a large amount of otherworldly magic around the scene of your victory.”

“I didn’t know magic left traces. Aargh.” She clutched her head. “I simply don’t know enough.”

Twer leapt on this opening. “My clients would be able to teach you. I have multiple offers for you. I represent an empress from a distant land who owns the largest library in the world. Another client is a religious figure who could petition the gods for answers. Alternatively, I could connect you to a king who directly descended from a summoned hero and still possesses his journal.”

“They all want me to fight for them, right? I’ll pass. My time belongs entirely to Amaranth. Anyone who wants anything from me needs to go through her. Except don’t. I’d be very angry if anyone told her.”

“I understand that Duchess Amaranth has been of great assistance to you since your summoning. You’ve already repaid her by saving her and her city. My clients would be capable of offering more to you. The starting offers alone include: ten million Istal coins for a single job; an enchanted tower with impenetrable defense in exchange for allowing a college of magic to study your abilities; and your own duchy in exchange for permanent service to a certain empire. These are all negotiable.”

“Is that a lot of money? It doesn’t matter, I’m not interested.” Janie did not sound the slightest bit tempted.

Twer could tell when he was losing a negotiation. He groped around for a new tactic, remembering her mention of a harem. Perhaps carnal desires bound her to the dragon more than wealth. “Hero bloodlines are highly valued, and any of my clients could offer you an advantageous marriage into a royal family. If you prefer not to be tied down, it would be easy to arrange companionship from the most exclusive courtesans in the land. Is your type tall, white-haired women? Is your type dragons? Anything is possible.”

“My type is Amaranth. Why would I want a bunch of people who look like Amaranth when I have the real Amaranth? Why would I need more than one Amaranth? More is better with chocolate, not people. I can barely handle one Amaranth in bed!”

The attachment was sentimental, then. That gave Twer a new line of attack. “Your loyalty does you credit. But is it returned? Duchess Amaranth is currently hosting a ball where she is celebrated as the savior of Uvom, while you get no credit and have to sneak around the stables simply to glimpse the festivities. Rumor has it that she locks you up in a tower to keep you away from the world.”

“Yes, it’s one of her best traits.” Janie sighed deeply and leaned against the wall. “I don’t want credit. I hate being outside. My unusual arrangement with Amaranth works for the two of us. Amaranth was the only person there for me at my lowest moment, and no amount of money will over outweigh that. For me, Amaranth is my entire world. I only want to be left alone. Are people going to leave me alone?” Her question held an edge.

“My clients all sought out your assistance for some reason or another. They would not gain anything from attacking you. As for the rest of the world? Duchess Amaranth had many enemies long before you appeared on the scene. The stupider ones will not be deterred. Your existence disrupts the power board, and some people may refuse to believe you don’t intend to join the game and treat you as a threat.” Twer shrugged. “If you want to know names, you would have to pay me.”

“What a headache.” Janie groaned. “Politics makes me sleepy.”

“Then I will leave you.” Twer bowed again. “Thank you for hearing me out, Hero.”

A unicorn snorted and stamped the ground in the neighboring stall. Janie turned toward the sound. “That one’s still awake? I’ve always wanted to pet a unicorn.”

“There’s fruit to feed them in the baskets by the stalls.” Even Twer would not charge for such an insignificant piece of information.

Janie selected a round purple fruit with a stem. “It looks like a purple apple.” She opened the stall. The unicorn growled. They could be touchy creatures. She held out a flat palm. “Calm.” The unicorn instantly relaxed. Twer made note of the casual use of power. “Huh, wonder why that worked? A shame there was no tutorial.” An old anger lurked in those words. “It doesn’t hurt for such a small amount of power, either.”

These words puzzled Twer, because he’d never heard of any summoned hero’s power causing them pain.

Janie fed the fruit to the unicorn, stroking the shimmering white pelt. She laughed as the creature nuzzled her hand. “It tickles! Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Twer barely finished speaking before she teleported away.

This had been a productive evening. He’d been able to deliver his messages. He didn’t care if she accepted or not—he got paid either way. Also, he’d learned a valuable piece of information. From their conversation, he’d inferred that Amaranth did not know about Janie’s powers. That was news he could sell at a high price.

Two days after the Uvom Annual Ball, someone tried to assassinate Amaranth. After they chipped the assassin’s corpse out of the block of ice, the spies attempted to identify where this one had come from. The golems repaired the parlor. As horrible though it sounded, Srella didn’t think much about it because enemies tried to assassinate Amaranth on a regular basis.

The very next day, Srella delivered the spy report and a cup of the new hot chocolate. She raised an eyebrow upon seeing Janie sitting on Amaranth’s lap.

“Close the door quickly,” Amaranth ordered. “Janie doesn’t like other people to see her.”

That sounded more like Amaranth’s own opinion, but Srella nudged the door shut with her foot anyway. She set down the tray and the report. “I’ll ask the wisps to send up another cup of hot chocolate.” Despite a long practice keeping a blank face, one of her eyebrows raised.

Amaranth tossed back her hair. “Ever since I let slip a mention of the latest assassin, Janie has separation anxiety.”

“Uh-huh.” Srella thought that Janie had “my lover might be assassinated if I let her out of my sight” anxiety, which she could understand.

Janie threw her arms around Amaranth’s neck and nuzzled white hair. “I’m very eager to hear the truth about who tried to kill you.”

“Such talk is too gruesome for your precious ears.”

“Oh, but I insist.” Janie’s smile, half-hidden by her lover’s hair, showed a bit too much teeth.

A military-loud knock struck the door. “Your Grace, the unicorn parade is waiting for your inspection.”

Amaranth sighed. “I need to show my face for morale boosting. Wait here behind the protective wards of my office until I’m done. Srella will stay with you so you feel safe.” She stood up and placed Janie down in the chair, fastening her golden cuff to the armrest.

Janie leaned in for a heated kiss that made Srella avert her eyes. As Amaranth left, the door glowed in green patterns as the magical protections sealed them in.

Srella had been surprised that Janie had let go so easily. She understood as soon as Janie turned around with a glint in her eyes. “Can you give me a summary of the report on the assassin?”

“I’m sure that’s nothing you should get involved in,” Srella said warningly. “I have selectively erased my memory about any reason why we might be having this conversation.” Srella didn’t like keeping secrets from her lady, and she refused to add another new secret.

“Please?” Janie clasped her hands together. “I only want to keep Amaranth safe. But I don’t know enough about the political landscape to even identify her enemies. There was an apples guy, and I thought about bargaining with him for a list of names, but then I realized I’m so ignorant about the world that I wouldn’t know if he gave me the names of innocent people and sent me to kill them. You’re the only person I trust, because you’re the only person who Amaranth trusts. Do you realize what it means that she left you alone with me? Or that she allowed you access to her hoard during the invasion? If you tell me that someone is a danger to Amaranth, then I’ll know it’s true.”

“I’m fully cognizant of the weight of my lady’s trust,” Srella enunciated slowly and clearly. She also realized that allowing an overpowered foreigner to charge headlong into this situation like a minotaur in a glass art gallery could end poorly. Someone had to talk Janie down. Sighing, Srella pulled up a chair and sat down. “We’ve traced the assassin back to the Queen of Dovar, in retaliation for their failed invasion. But Amaranth will not strike back. If the Queen of Dovar dies, there will probably be a civil war. Then our neighboring country Chrysis will eat up Dovaran territory and probably feel emboldened to invade us next.”

“Then I need to handle both Dovar and Chrysis?”

“No, Chrysis is currently our ally against Dovar. However, Chrysis also invaded us twenty years ago, and if Dovar falls, then we’ll become enemies again without our common cause. Even so, we can’t carry out a preemptive strike on a current ally. That would make Amaranth look bad.”

“I didn’t notice anyone helping during the last invasion.”

“Chrysis very conveniently and obviously sent troops too late. We’ll retaliate through a less favorable trade deal, but Amaranth isn’t ready to cut off all pretenses of alliance, in no small part because Chrysis is our main supplier of food.”

Janie rubbed her forehead. “I see why you called the situation complicated.”

“It gets worse. Our spies found evidence that the assassin had been equipped by the Holy Empire, suggesting they lent aid to Dovar.” Srella hesitated, but decided to be honest. “The distant Holy Empire has no stakes in our conflict. They most likely wanted to test your reaction. If we only retaliate against Dovar we’ll look like fools for not noticing who is pulling the strings, but attacking the Holy Empire would make a powerful new enemy. That’s why it’s better to let it go.”

“They tried to kill Amaranth!”

“I doubt anyone expected the assassination attempt to succeed. She’s survived greater numbers of assassins at once. It was more like posturing.”

“If one of these days an assassin gets lucky, what then? Why should Amaranth have to put up with people trying to kill her?” Janie sat still for such a long moment that Srella wondered if she’d gone into shock or blamed herself. She didn’t look guilty, though. At first she looked angry, then pensive, then a wicked smile flashed across her face. “I have found a solution. This is a situation for a threat, not murder. In the United States of Home Ruler, we have an entirely fictional tradition of sticking a horse’s head in an enemy’s bed. This demonstrates that it could have been your enemy’s severed head instead and will be next time.”

Srella felt lost. “What’s a horse?”

“A sweet, innocent creature that should never be harmed. Are there any ugly, non-sapient, and not fuzzy monsters threatening the local populace?”

The hydra lay fallen with twelve headless necks poking out of the swamp and three more sunken under the water. That made more heads than Janie needed. She stepped around pools of blood as she approached, sword in hand. She still didn’t like blood. But hacking the hydra to pieces had been so satisfying, she’d kept going even as more and more heads continued to sprout from the severed stumps. Even now, she had a rage burning deep inside her chest. There was no one to blame for her ordeal in the Cursed Lands except herself, so it became entirely too easy for her to turn that desire to slash and stab onto her own body. It had helped to have an outlet for her anger.

Even someone from Earth knew that to kill a hydra, you needed to burn the necks. Janie hadn’t been able to bring herself to use fire to the very end. She’d called down lightning instead.

She’d already delivered severed heads to the leaders of the assassin’s guild, Dovar, and Chrysis. She’d waited to do the Holy Empire for when it would be nighttime in that distant part of the world. Waking up to the severed head was part of the intimidation factor. She hoped to scare off every enemy (including future enemies in the case of Chrysis, though they deserved it for not sending troops) so she wouldn’t need to keep doing this. A copper-scaled head nearly as tall as her with serrated teeth and spikes running down the snout ought to get the message across the first time. Then she could return to her comfy bed in a dragon’s hoard and not leave for an entire year—unless Amaranth was in the mood to do it outside the bed.

Oh, how Janie longed to hasten back to her dragon. She only restrained the urge because Amaranth wouldn’t have finished work yet and returned to their tower. In the swamp, with its yellow water and the peculiar curved shape of the trees, Janie kept half-expecting another ancient magical curse would surprise her. Amaranth with her beautiful polished scales the color of moonlight and her handsomely sharp claws felt like safety. There had been a necklace on the Queen of Dovar’s bedside with a silver gemstone the shade of Amaranth’s eyes—the gems in this world were all different from Earth. Janie had wanted to steal it for Amaranth, to perhaps make her dragon smile in that lazy catlike way, but she wouldn’t have been able to explain how she’d obtained it. Whenever Janie felt guilty for keeping secrets, she tried not to think about it. She could not allow the tiny oasis of sanity that she’d clawed back from this cruel world be threatened. Once she finished this task, she hoped there would be no more threats and no more need to sneak out.

Holding out her hand, she summoned a round shield and kicked a severed head onto it. She kept her eyes averted from the bloody sight, then crushed the edges of the shield upward to form a package hiding the insides. It was easy—she was stronger than she’d first realized when she’d arrived in this world.

“How the hell does this even work?” she demanded, glaring at her leaky package. From her experimentation while fighting the hydra, she seemed able to use maybe a third of the powers she could imagine up. Stopping time had been a failure. She had better luck with any ability she’d read about in a local book, which seemed to indicate her wish to be “the strongest” had granted her all the powers currently existing in this world.

Except they didn’t work reliably. She could create a glowing magical sword to fight a hydra or a shield. But when she’d tried to create a box, nothing had happened. She could not create food no matter how desperately she tried. When it came to weapons, she could materialize a maximum of two at a time as if the shitty system knew she only had two hands and was determined to prevent her from having any extras she could sell.

During battle, she’d been able to call down lightning. Now, when she pointed at a tree as a target, Zeus suddenly had an embarrassing performance failure. She’d been faster when fighting and slowed down afterward. Yet she could still teleport. As long as she had a location name, the place popped up in her mind’s eye and she could pick where she landed to avoid teleporting into an object. Holy shit was she ever bitter. If only she’d known to try guessing names back then, she might have gotten lucky.

She could kill people, but not put them to sleep. Some of her powers only worked in combat, some worked all the time. The invisible shields around her skin remained active after the fight had ended (a very useful skill she wished she’d realized sooner.) She had once summoned a firestorm large enough to incinerate a fallen and cursed empire, but if she tried to heat up her hot chocolate, nothing happened.

How the hell did any of this work?!

She hated not knowing because it posed a very real danger that she might screw up and incinerate herself again. Her head hurt. The safety of her bed beckoned even stronger. But this was for Amaranth’s sake. Amaranth had dragged Janie out of hell, the least Janie could do was lob some severed heads in return.

A sharp piece of metal poking out of the shield-basket jabbed Janie’s finger. “Ow!” She dropped the shield. It nearly impacted with her toe, but she leapt back in time. She stuck her finger in her mouth and mumbled, “Shit! This is why I wanted a box! All gods are bastards!”

“Blasphemy and you freak out over a little cut? Are you truly the summoned hero? Bah, it’s difficult to believe you contain the power of the entire pantheon.”

Janie whirled around.

The man standing behind her had long brown hair peeking out of his winged visor. Golden patterns ran down armor so perfectly polished she could see her own shocked reflection in the breastplate. A white cape had been fastened outside the armor and flowed over his broad shoulders. His sword hilt had the face of a lion with a flowing golden mane and his shield had a pair of scales.

This encounter radiated “video game cutscene with important character” energy. Janie was tempted to just teleport away and avoid the bother. But he’d implied that he knew something about her abilities.

“You’re right, I’m merely a poor lost girl from another world.” She batted her eyes and tried to look younger. “I desperately need someone to explain to me how my powers work. Especially someone as wise and strong as…who are you?”

“Ugh, you won’t be worth fighting if you don’t know what you’re doing,” he grumbled. Janie did not like the turn this conversation had taken. However, she stuck around because he immediately launched into useful information. “I am Ced, the Champion of the Gods. Our power comes from the same source. Back in the days of the First Calamity, the pantheon realized that people from other worlds had a natural ability to channel far more divine power than those in this world. You are from another world, and I’m the descendant of multiple other worlders, a throwback capable of channeling the power of many gods at once. Yet I have regretted accepting this power because ever since, I have not had a single satisfying fight. Every opponent falls too easily. I’ve wandered the entire planet in search of a single person who can last five minutes against me—”

“Okay, but how do my powers work?” Janie interrupted.

Ced laughed. “Eager to get to the fight! You have at least a little spirit. To save the world from the Calamities, the pantheon combined all their powers in order to create a spell to summon a hero. The death of the hero in their own world served as a sacrifice to magnify the power. None of the pantheon could agree on who would control the system, so instead they made it independent and created a recording of the Mother Goddess to greet heroes and grant them powers. The magic returned to the system when each hero passed, on top of absorbing everything from the Four Calamities. The security measures were so strong that none of the gods could destroy the system and take back their powers after the Calamities were defeated, which made a great deal of them very angry.”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m still waiting for the information on how my powers work.” Janie could feel her eyes slipping closed. She’d always been terrible at absorbing information through lectures. That had been the bane of her existence during school. She could remember material she’d read, but if someone talked at her for longer than a few minutes, her brain meandered off.

“You’re more of a warrior than a scholar, I see.” Ced sounded pleased. “The system very specifically grants combat-oriented abilities. Most the powers can only be used in combat, except for those useful for stealth and spying too. The gods didn’t want their chosen heroes getting too far off track, I expect. Heroes had to agree to fight a Calamity merely to activate their powers.”

This explained why Janie’s lightning only worked on an enemy. It made sense for passive abilities like shields, regeneration, invisibility, or teleportation to always be active—the gods wouldn’t want the rare hero they’d went to all the trouble to kidnap from another world to be murdered in an ambush. This also explained why she hadn’t been able to create her own wisp—they could only lift light objects and weren’t strong enough to fight. Sleep didn’t work because it wasn’t violent enough for her demanding divine kidnappers. She only had combat-oriented abilities.

Then shouldn’t her horrific attempt to boil water have failed instead of burning her alive?

Ced continued, “According to my patron, the God of War, no one realized the system was still active after the Last Calamity fell. The heroes were all summoned into the Cursed Lands created by the destruction of the former Ynan Empire. They were trapped in the center of a country with no food and poisoned water, and no enemy to activate their powers. They must have all died of starvation and dehydration. What a waste of perfectly good opponents. But you! Somehow, not only did you survive, you destroyed the curse of the Last Calamity. New, healthy trees have been rising up from the ashes.”

Just like that, Janie understood what had happened. She’d tried to make the water safe. Her power had targeted the entire curse spreading across the Cursed Lands as an enemy and burned it out.

The other poor vagrants from Earth had never been able to use their powers at all. Heroes had to agree to fight a Calamity to activate their powers. Janie destroying the Calamity’s curse must have counted. But most powers someone could have selected wouldn’t have been able to fight a curse, and no one would have even known to try. If she hadn’t boiled that water, she’d have died too. Her regeneration would have remained dormant so she never could have lived long enough without food or water to survive that long journey out.

Janie started laughing.

“Is this evil laughter?” Ced asked hopefully. “Are you awakening a new ability?”

Everyone else had died, so perhaps her choice had been the best one after all. She’d spent so long regretting her choice of power and hating herself for it that it ought to have come as a relief to learn she’d have been screwed no matter which power she picked. Instead, thinking of all those dead people from her home world made her furious. It had been a thousand years since the fall of the Last Calamity, long enough for many sets of bones to decompose. There must be a mass burial of people from Earth under the ash. How many people had been dragged back from the grave to die a second miserable death because some gods couldn’t clean up their old trash?

“My turn to ask a question,” Ced said. “How did you destroy the system?”

“I destroyed the system?”

He drew his sword. “I have given you sacred and secret wisdom, yet you refuse to answer a single question!”

She leapt backward, the shields around her automatically humming to life. His power made the air heavy. “I wished to be the strongest, which might both answer your question and tell you that you shouldn’t fight me.”

Though he didn’t lower his sword, he smiled. “You demanded more power than the system possessed, and absorbed it into yourself. Many gods will want that power back.”

“They could have had it in exchange for a rescue when I first arrived, now I don’t feel like giving it to them.”

His smile broadened. “What beautiful violence in your eyes! Our battle will be legend. The clash between the strongest hero and the strongest champion in history, between an other worlder and one who holds the blood of two worlds, between the chosen of the gods and the thief who stole their power. We will rage across this continent. Finally, I will be able to hold nothing back. You must be the one capable of lasting five minutes against my full strength!”

“Uh…I don’t want to fight you. I’m not a violent person and I have no combat training, I couldn’t give you this grand dramatic battle you crave.” Janie didn’t like the idea of killing someone she’d talked to, even if he’d been annoying. It was also harder to kill someone who looked human, even if she knew ethically it made no difference. She’d already become a mass-murderer. The gryphons had been invading her home and their leader had been planning to rape someone she loved, yet she still had nightmares about it. Mostly she tried not to remember it. “My powers turned out too strong. None of my abilities let me take down an enemy without killing them.”

“I know, of course our battle will be to the death,” he said impatiently. “How else do we determine who is the strongest for once and for all?”

“It’s me. I wished to be a million times stronger than anyone in this world. See? Now we don’t have to fight.”

He snorted. “The system couldn’t provide you with more power than it had! That’s why it broke under the force of your mad, egotistical wish. You’re the strongest hero who ever existed, but that doesn’t make you any stronger than me, who also received powers from all the gods.”

The air around him hummed. The light of his sword became blinding. Janie had the horrible fear that he might be right: he might be stronger than her, and he definitely had more battle experience.

It would give Amaranth a wound that could never heal if Janie didn’t return home. Sneaking off was a grave enough crime already, sneaking off to die would be unforgiveable. She drew on her power, ready to teleport. Although it would be better if she could deter him so as not to leave an enemy at her back.

Janie raised her hands as if in surrender. “What if I refuse to fight you? What would you do then? You don’t seem like the type who has any interest in cutting down an unarmed person.”

“Then I’d find your rumored lover and kill her in front of you in order to draw out your true power—”

“DIE.”

Ced fell over onto his back. The light went out of his equipment. Glassy eyes stared up at the sky.

Janie approached slowly, adding an extra layer of shielding across her current shields. She toed him, afraid he might leap up and ambush her or shout that he’d not yet revealed his true form. Then she knelt down and took his pulse. He was dead. “In the end, he was all talk, huh?” What a stupid, pointless death. She hadn’t even wanted to fight him, and he certainly hadn’t gotten the grand battle he’d imagined. Suddenly she had a strong desire to give it at least a small purpose. “I’m not chopping off the head, ew. But for a theocracy like the Holy Empire, I bet the corpse of the Champion of the Gods would be more impressive than a mere hydra.”

Chapter Text

At first Srella could barely believe that Janie had convinced Amaranth to show her off at the diplomatic dinner. Then Srella remembered that there wouldn’t be any other dragons invited this time. Her mistress was predictable.

Amaranth had taken charge of dressing Janie, selecting a lovely olive-green gown with green gemstones embroidered into the collar. Another ring of gemstones surrounded each wrist, then ended in flowing sleeves over the hands. Amaranth had matched each ring in color to the dangling blue-green earrings and beaded necklace. However, Amaranth had no skills with hair including her own, so Srella had been drafted for that part.

With Janie sitting in front, Srella wove a crown of braids. Janie whispered, “All quiet on the enemies front?”

“Quiet except for the Holy Empire sending a lot of gifts and long letters about how they want to become closer allies. What did you do to win them over? Finally convince the wandering Champion of the Gods to come home?”

Janie squirmed. “Is that a joke or did you already know?”

“What. Did. You. Do?”

“He started it. I tried to avoid killing him until he threatened Amaranth.”

“In that case, the gods can pick a new champion.” Srella finished the hairstyle with a golden circlet on top. “Try not to kill anyone today. It would reflect very poorly on Duchess Amaranth should any of her guests perish while under the protection of her hospitality.”

“Hey, don’t act like I’m a deranged murderer,” Janie protested. “It was self-defense every time! I’d never even punched anyone before coming to your world. I would be content to live in peace and never leave my room if people would stop bothering me and Amaranth. We have a phrase where I come from: fuck around and find out.”

When the door opened, Janie stopped talking. Amaranth swept in, the tails of her dark blue coat flowing like a skirt. Strands of pearls had been woven into her hair and sparkled on her neck and wrists. The dragon took one look at Janie, then a dusting of color appeared on her pale cheeks. The nubs of her horns poked out from under her hair. “No, I can’t possibly let anyone else see you.” She tucked back a stray lock of Janie’s hair behind her ear. “This sight is for my eyes alone.”

“I’m always happy to spend an evening in my room not talking to anyone,” Janie said. “But I want to take a peek at the delegation and make certain they seem friendly. Oh, and I heard there would be an elf. I want to know what elves look like in your world.”

“It’s quite impossible.” Amaranth shook her head. “What do you think would happen if someone tries to carry you off? I would have to eat all of them, and it would give me indigestion. To say nothing of starting a war.”

Janie laughed. “Amaranth, please, no one has any interest in kidnapping me besides you.”

Funnily, Srella knew that Janie was very wrong. Every kingdom in the world would want to kidnap a summoned hero who had proven stronger than even the Champion of the Gods—but they would restrain themselves because they couldn’t.

“A compromise. You may watch the delegation enter from behind the curtains on the balcony, so they won’t see you. Then you will return to the hoard, and I will reward you for your obedience later.”

“You’ve got a deal. I want—” Janie stood on her tiptoes to whisper, and Srella got to witness the rare sight of a dragon blushing.

Twer had slipped into the Holy Empire’s delegation as a temporarily hired porter. He’d used makeup to disguise his features because too many people could see through magic. He was not working for them in his true capacity—he was collecting information. After the summoned hero had defeated the Champion of the Gods, she had become the strongest being in the world besides the gods themselves. An unknown quantity with that kind of power made people very, very nervous. What did Janie Anong want? Was she truly devoted to her duchess or merely using Uvom as a stepping stone to conquer the world?

Alongside a dozen other porters, Twer carried a casket full of coins and gemstones toward the castle door. The Holy Empire was attempting to buy their way out of retaliation. Apparently waking up next to a corpse had scared the ego out of their pope. Twer felt very annoyed at the Holy Empire for their stupidity. What had made them think it was a good idea to fund an assassination attempt merely to see what happened? That was like throwing a stick at a leviathan, then being surprised when it swallowed your ship whole. It was none of Twer’s concern, but he felt annoyed because he’d confidently told Janie his clients would be unlikely to attack her. He’d given them too much credit for common sense. It always upset him when his information was wrong, as a matter of pride.

The Holy Knight leading the delegation was a forest elf with mosslike hair and lichen running down his skin. He’d been the only one the Holy Empire sent, with everyone else a temporarily hired laborer. The empire probably used porters instead of golems because porters were more expendable.

The Holy Knight bowed before Amaranth. “Your Grace, the Pope presents this gift as a sign of our friendship and to profusely apologize for the actions of a rogue priest who encouraged an assassination attempt against you.”

Twer restrained a snort at the pope’s transparent attempt to scapegoat someone else.

Amaranth raised an eyebrow. It was unclear if she was more surprised at the gifts or the Holy Empire coming so close to admitting to their crime. But dragons couldn’t resist treasure. After a moment, she said, “Take the caskets to the basement vault.”

The vault had extremely heavy protections to prevent any magic from leaking out. Twer interpreted the duchess’ actions as meaning she suspected the tribute of being rigged to explode. She would carefully check it before letting it anywhere near her hoard.

The green curtains shifted on the balcony above and the hero’s face poked out. Janie stared directly at the Holy Knight. She gestured at her eyes, then at him. Even across cultures, the meaning of the threat was unmistakable. The knight flinched.

Amaranth followed his gaze upward to the balcony. Her eyes hardened. With the strength of a dragon, she jumped straight up two stories to land on the balcony. “Jaaaaaaaaaaanie. I ordered you to remain out of sight behind the curtains.”

“My hand slipped,” Janie said, not sounding particularly sorry.

Amaranth grabbed Janie’s chin and forced their eyes to meet. “Batting your lovely eyelashes won’t get you out of this. Instead of a reward, you’ll get a punishment tonight.”

Twer could barely bring himself to watch. The duchess actually dared boss around the hero like this? Of course she didn’t know the truth, but that didn’t make it any less risky to push around someone significantly stronger than her. It was like watching a tiny yappy dog jumping on the tail of a mastiff. If she lost the affection of the hero, her entire city could be burned to ashes. Even worse, since apparently this overpowered being only pretended to be weak out of some strange affection for her, the entire world might pay the price.

Janie raised her arms.

The Holy Knight fainted.

Instead of brutally ripping the duchess to pieces, Janie hugged her. “You’re even more beautiful when you’re angry.”

“Stop trying to distract me,” Amaranth growled. “See?” She pointed at the knight. “You made someone faint with your charms. This is precisely the situation I was trying to avoid.” She ripped down the curtain and wrapped it around Janie, glaring at everyone below.

The porters all suddenly found somewhere else to look. Most of them hid behind their caskets. Amaranth lifted Janie up and carried her into the castle.

From the doorway, a well-dressed Dame said wearily, “You can all come inside. We might as well start eating since they might be a while.” She crossed her arms and glared. “Oh, and stop cowering. The strange arrangement makes them both happy, so it’s none of our business.”

During the dinner, Twer got to witness the amusing sight of a dragon glaring at a poor holy knight who she was absolutely convinced had fainted at the sight of her lover’s beauty. Amaranth found an excuse to accidentally knock the man into a wall twice.

As Srella stared at the fifth maid candidate this week who looked uncannily like Janie Anong, she realized this annoyance wouldn’t stop anytime soon.

It made sense. Powerful people wanted a hero for themselves, and if she could not be hired away from her lover, then the next step inevitably would be to try and break them up. It seemed easier to seduce the duchess who didn’t understand what she possessed than the hero who never left her room. Uvom’s enemies were probably hoping that Janie would burn the city down in a jealous rage.

“It won’t work,” Srella said irritably. “My lady’s not the unfaithful type, and even before she had a lover, she didn’t put her hands on maids.”

“Excuse me?” The dark-haired, dark-eyed woman gazed up from under her long lashes. She was very beautiful—entirely too beautiful for the job she’d applied for. Her soft hands, clasped together, did not look like she’d ever worked.

“I’m telling you to leave.” Srella pointed at the door. “Tell whoever hired you that if they want to attract my lady’s attention, they should send someone covered in ashes.” Sarcasm dripped off each word. Her glare forbade any follow-up questions.

At least this one didn’t protest, merely gathered her bag and slunk out the door.

Srella’s irritation had been magnified because interviewing maids shouldn’t be her job anymore. She’d been promoted. However, everyone else kept letting the seducers in, either because of stupidity or bribes. Srella had already chased a maid who’d mysteriously misplaced her top out of the duchess’ vanity room. So far no one had been stupid enough to try to sneak into the hoard, but it was only a matter of time. As someone who still lived in the castle, Srella didn’t want to deal with the ice damage if so many fools kept pissing a dragon off.

The next candidate walked with her shoulders hunched over and a hood covering most of her face. A red curl peeked out.

The instant the other woman sat down, Srella had a bad feeling. This maid candidate did not look like Janie. But she was very beautiful, and she seemed to be trying to hide it. The bags under her eyes looked suspiciously like makeup. She wore a pale pink dress that made her skin look washed-out and clashed with her brilliantly red hair. The dress had a very weird skirt that stuck out in all directions. In Srella’s professional opinion, it took skill to dress this badly.

“We don’t have any openings left,” Srella lied. She felt a bit guilty, because she wasn’t completely certain about this one. When the other woman left without a protest, Srella felt even less certain.

Still, if the woman genuinely had such bad fashion sense then she wouldn’t be qualified for the job anyway.

Srella finally made a successful hire when she found a young man from a small village who absolutely loved fashion and already had a boyfriend. He didn’t have any formal training but he had some fascinating ideas about dress coats, so Srella was willing to put in the extra effort to train him.

Finally in a good mood, Srella headed outside to tell her lady.

The floating castle rested on a flat rock with enough surface for a yard, a stable, and a garden. In addition, platforms jutted out of the upper stories to form half a dozen smaller gardens. Amaranth and Janie had spread out a picnic lunch on a small private garden on the upper level. The most common color for grass was yellow in these parts, but Amaranth had ordered it enchanted to look green. Brilliantly colored bell-shaped flowers rose up on stalks around the picnic blanket. A fence surrounded the garden, with a purple flowering vine winding along the stakes. Amaranth and Janie sat on the blanket, with Amaranth feeding Janie slices of fruit on a stick.

Srella opened the door. “Pardon my interruption—”

With what could only be enchanted athleticism, the redhead leapt out of the window above and landed on the grass. In contrast to her previous plain clothing, she wore a royal purple dress with a such a low collar the outfit practically seemed ripped in half. She cried, “How could you cheat on me like this? You swore that you would love me forever!”

Both Amaranth and Janie turned to stare at Srella as if they thought the intruder was talking about her not either of them.

“This is not my drama,” Srella growled.

The redhead attempted to end the misunderstanding by leaping on Amaranth and kissing her. The key word being “attempted.”

Amaranth exploded into dragon form, crushing the flowers, the fence, and the lunch. A gust of icy wind lifted Janie onto the dragon’s back. Srella cursed as she realized the beautiful tan doublet she’d designed with lace running down the sleeves had been ripped to shreds in the abrupt transformation. Days of work, gone! Amaranth unleashed a blast of frost that destroyed the windows. The redhead only survived because the ground had broken underneath her, sending her falling to the lower level.

A dragon’s weight was a great excuse for the ground breaking. But the castle had been reinforced with Amaranth in mind. Srella had noticed: 1. The darkness eroding the ground; 2. Janie’s eyes had flashed black; 3. That brief, terrifying moment when the sun had gone dark.

Then Janie burst into tears, and the darkness left her eyes.

“Please don’t be upset,” Amaranth said urgently. “I headbutted her as I transformed, she never even got near my lips.”

Janie rubbed her face. “I know, I’m sad because some horrible person tried to assault you and I didn’t react fast enough to stop it. I’m sorry. I need to disinfect your lips.” She attempted to crawl down the snout.

“I have important business to attend to,” Amaranth said cheerfully. “Srella, please be an angel and handle this mess.” Then she flew off toward her tower, leaving Srella standing in front of a partly broken door that opened to the empty sky.

Srella groaned. It felt like she’d gotten more work since being promoted. She stalked down the stairs.

In the lower yard, the redhead lay in a bruised heap with a leg that looked broken. Srella knelt down. “Today you learned two valuable lessons about consent and pissing off a dragon. Three lessons, if we count how you should have left when I told you to.”

The injured woman tried to crawl away.

“Oh, no, you’re not going anywhere. I need you to tell me who hired you, so I know where to send the bill for this mess.”

Janie sat cross-legged on her bed, practicing magic. That Champion of the Gods had been incredibly obnoxious, but he’d provided her with some highly useful information. Once she’d understood that her powers were limited to what magic already existed in this world, she’d asked for a large number of magic books in order to “learn more about her new home.” Amaranth thought it was very healthy that Janie had developed an interest in the new world instead of clinging to any signs of the old one. Janie definitely had some abilities not recorded in the books, but she figured those must exist in other parts of the world.

Very, very tentatively, Janie had been working on finding the limits of the magic her body could handle. She’d read books on spells to reinforce the body to surpass these limits. Slowly she’d increased the toughness of every last cell in her body. She could control her own lifespan too. Amaranth was biologically immortal, and Janie didn’t want to ever leave her dragon alone.

In addition, Janie had learned that if she directed her power through an enchanted sword or a staff, it did not cause a backlash inside her body. Alternatively, she’d been able to cut off her sense of pain, though she lost all other sensation too. She thought it best to use that sparingly. Pain was an important signal to let her know when her body was broken. The last thing she wanted was to trigger her self-harm impulses again. She’d been getting better as the defenses she set up made her feel more secure.

The restriction on her powers outside combat remained a problem. She’d set about trying to find loopholes. As it turned out, her own perceptions of danger controlled it. Defensive measures such as shields were always active, so she added security to her shields to specifically disintegrate anyone to attempted to attack her and no one else. Traps apparently counted as defenses too, so she’d surrounded Uvom with them. She’d been able to create shields around Amarnath too by defining Amaranth as an ally. It had greatly disappointed her that the shields had not interpreted a kiss as an attack. Janie firmly believed that any hired hussy trying to assault her dragon was an enemy, so she’d redefined the parameters accordingly.

Since spying counted as a useful battle skill, she’d been able to turn her hand mirror into a scrying device to watch Amaranth. She propped it up against her headboard, smiling at how serious Amaranth looked when doing paperwork. With all of this security in place, Janie finally felt secure enough to return to the hoard instead of gluing herself to Amaranth’s side. It was for the best. Janie had hit her limits of social interaction and outside air.

It felt far more comfortable to lie back in bed, stare at Amaranth, and perfect her disintegration trap so that not a speck of blood would remain of the next hussy.

Arms crossed, Amaranth surveyed the line of golems standing against the basement wall. She exhaled, and as her frost touched them, the blue symbols running down the rocky bodies lit up. “Send the golems to build a road between here and the former Cursed Lands first. When the next batch is ready to be activated, we’ll focus on building a doctor’s office, a town hall, and a guardhouse for the new settlements. Hmm, and a tavern for morale.”

Since the deadly curse had vanished from those lands and plants had begun to grow, the first settlers had arrived—people too bold or desperate to fear an ancient curse. “It’s very generous of you to offer your assistance, my lady,” Srella said, taking notes.

“Generous? This is pragmatism.” Amaranth snorted. “I’m establishing the dominance of Uvom over the territory. We have too many hostile countries around us already. The Cursed Lands used to be our buffer. I refuse to let it grow into another country that wants to gobble us up. I will have to claim the new lands as my own. A larger territory is more annoyance to defend, but it will be convenient to have nearby farms so we don’t need to import as much food.” Her brow furrowed. “Our enemies have been so quiet lately, it’s worrying me.”

Srella made a neutral sound.

“Another unfamiliar woman attempted to kiss me yesterday.” Amarnath frowned. “She vanished before touching me.”

“A teleportation spell, perhaps? Our castle protections should block enemies from teleporting in or out.” Except overpowered heroes, apparently. “I’ll send someone to check if the defenses are intact.”

“It did not feel like teleportation.” Amarnath’s frown deepened.

“Should I investigate?” Srella asked. She meant: Are you ready to set aside your denial and face the truth?

Amaranth shook her head. “No, it’s probably nothing.”

Apparently not. Srella was starting to wonder if maybe the truth would never come out. Every nearby kingdom had become petrified with terror of Uvom. There would not be any more attacks. Even the string of suspicious job seekers had petered out to a few wannabe spies. Perhaps Janie would not have reason to use her power again. Perhaps it would be better that way. Amaranth had a lot of pride—and a need for control. Srella was worried about how her lady would feel about being the less terrifying one in her relationship.

Amaranth changed the subject. “We’re likely to need more healing potions to stock the new medical facilities.”

“I’ll send an order to the Holy Empire at once.”

“Do be clear that I’ll be personally inspecting every shipment, in case they try to send us an inferior product like last time.” Cold air radiated off Amaranth. “Should there be any defective potions, they will be tested on the envoy.”

Srella doubted that would be an issue ever again. “Of course.”

Amaranth sagged and gripped the wall. “Srella, how many more items do we have today? I haven’t seen Janie since breakfast.”

“My lady, keep it together. We’re still in public.” Srella glanced around, checking for any golem crafters close enough to see.

“I’m sure she misses me dreadfully.”

With practice, Srella managed not to roll her eyes at her lady’s attempt to shift her own withdrawal symptoms onto someone else. “You can retire to your hoard, and I’ll send up the paperwork that needs to be completed.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Srella.”

“You’d be considerably less well-dressed, that’s for certain.”

Janie was jolted out of sleep when something brushed against one of her traps. She’d arranged traps and shields around the entire Cursed Lands ever since Amaranth had claimed it as Uvom territory. However, this movement came from inside, not outside. It must possess hostility toward the city in order to have triggered the trap. And whatever it was, it had plowed straight through her defenses.

Janie sat up. Amaranth’s tail twitched. In dragon form, Amaranth slept with her tail curled around Janie’s bed, and she had an uncanny ability to detect the slightest movement. So far Janie had not even once been able to go to the bathroom without waking Amaranth.

In Janie’s opinion, Amaranth needed her beauty sleep. The duchess had been working very hard lately, overseeing the new settlements. It would be ideal if Janie could handle this problem without her dragon ever finding out.

Janie crafted a perfect illusion of herself, down to her scent and the sound of her teeth grinding in her sleep. Then she teleported away.

Yellow sprouts poked up through the field of ash. One full moon and one half-moon cast light over the plain. The season had turned warmer compared to Janie’s last time here, but she still shivered. Using the winged shoes she’d crafted, she floated above ground rather than touch the ash. Goosebumps raised down her arms and her fingers curled. She hated this place with a depth of emotion she usually struggled to feel about anything besides Amaranth. And what was that strange white tree in front of her?

Three white round things seemed to be connected to a larger white surface glowing under the moonlight. They were claws attached to a foot. Janie looked up. The Last Calamity stood before her, the fallen bones resurrected into a monstrous undead dragon. The ridges running down the back resembled mountains. An unholy darkness burned in the eye sockets.

“It’s beautiful,” Janie whispered, her hand going up to her mouth.

The Last Calamity stepped forward as if to stomp on her.

Janie took to the air, flying up the massive leg. She dodged another claw swipe. “You’re adorable when you’re trying to kill me. Dragons get a free pass.” She rose eye-level to the teeth, each one taller than her. Her gaze soaked in every last detail of a rare type of dragon she’d never seen before. “Shit. Someone found out my weakness. How can I ever harm a dragon? I don’t know how the other heroes did it. Just look at this magnificence.” She patted a tooth. “A gift to the world.”

The Last Calamity’s jaws snapped closed. Janie teleported to the tail. “I see you don’t want to talk. I also see there’s no brain in this skull. I’m going to need you to stay away from my city. Amaranth has been too tired lately, I won’t let even a fellow dragon disturb her sleep. But since you’re a dragon, I’ll go easy on you.” She grabbed the dragon by the bone tail and swung it into the sky. “Fly away and be free, beautiful creature.”

In the distance, there was the sound of bones hitting the ground, then a sickening crunch. Belatedly, Janie realized that dragons without skin on their wings probably couldn’t fly.

Janie gulped and twiddled her thumbs. Maybe the bone dragon had been so delighted with the new home where it had landed that it was sitting still and soaking in the moonlight. That would certainly be one possible explanation for why the air had gone silent. A few ashes floated on the wind, as if a giant creature had been thrown so hard it had sunk into the ground. However, Janie preferred her alternate theory that the flapping of a bone dragon’s wings through the night had pushed some ashes away. If she turned around and flew away very fast, then she wouldn’t see anything to contradict her theory.

Traps activated around Uvom. With cold horror, Janie realized the Last Calamity had been a decoy to draw her away.

Chapter Text

The entire world had become desperate for reassurance that Hero Janie hadn’t left her tower, and Twer liked easy money. He could make a surprising amount merely by keeping an eye on the city-state of Uvom and letting his clients know if Janie remained inside.

At first Twer had tried to get a job inside the castle, but Dame Srella had an incredible instinct for sniffing out spies. His backstory and cover identity had been perfect, but she’d taken one look at him and told him that his hat wasn’t hiding his good looks and he should scram. Actually it was flattering she thought him handsome enough to be a paid seducer. He hoped Amaranth was paying Dame Srella what she deserved. Otherwise he had many clients who would appreciate such an amazing spy detector.

After his initial gambit had failed, Twer had set up a base deep in the Cursed Lands where settlers had not yet ventured. A glowing blue bubble contained a bed, an armchair, and several bookshelves. Twer stored his extra memories inside books since he had too much information to keep straight in his head. Of course, he also had fiction to read from around the world including his guilty secret affection for trashy love stories. His wisp had teleportation and could bring him any food he desired. A quarter of the dome had been transformed into a massive telescope glass. The long cylinder in the middle of the room measured magical fluctuations inside Uvom. Janie’s power was so great that Twer could tell whenever she teleported away simply by the lower quantity of magic in the atmosphere. Overall, this was a very easy job. Twer treated it like a semi-vacation and a chance to catch up on his reading.

An alarm jolted Twer out of his slumber. He barely had time to turn on his lights before the cylinder indicated a large object approaching. Twer ran for the controls and navigated his bubble away.

He’d acted just in time. Giant white objects came crashing down from the sky, landing with such force that they buried deep into the earth. Splattering ash covered his dome.

The wisp went outside to wipe off the bubble. When the ash cleared, Twer found himself on the edge of a deep pit. The giant bones of the Last Calamity had splintered with the force of impacting so deep underground. Twer’s eye twitched. This was terrifying. Janie was a hero, but no other hero had ever taken down a Calamity in one blow. Also, what crazy person thought it would be a good idea to go around resurrecting Calamities? Twer worried more about that asshole, frankly. Whoever had targeted the hero clearly had absolutely no concern about collateral damage.

Twer maneuvered his bubble deeper into the Cursed Lands where it would hopefully be safe, then activated his telescope. He set it to record, in case this information would be sellable.

A wall of darkness surrounded Uvom, seeming to glow a dark purple in the night. Twer frowned. Was this an attack? Why would anyone think it would be a good idea to provoke the strongest existence in the world? What could have created such a barrier? It was extremely rare for him not to recognize magic. He picked up the book containing his memories of magical techniques and concentered. There was not a single shred of relevant information inside.

For a brief moment, Twer wondered if the summoned hero had done this with one of her undefinable powers or some mysterious technique from another world. However he was quickly disabused of this notion.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO AMARANTH’S CITY? AMARANTH HAD BETTER BE SAFE!” A furious tiny figure flew toward the barrier, the wind swirling around her.

A massive metal giant stepped out of the barrier. It was silver from head to toe with six arms. Flaming eyes burned the size of a small village. This creature, Twer recognized by the horns rising up from the helmet. The guardian of the Deep Depths, crafted by a race of dwarves who had vanished into the bowels of the earth never to be seen again, believed to have been lost forever and rumored to be the most powerful object of magical craftsmanship to ever exist.

“OUTTA MY WAY, TIN CAN!” Janie flew upward and punched the giant under the chin. It went flying.

Twer cursed as he realized the giant had gone soaring in his direction. He maneuvered his bubble to the right just in time. The giant landed next to him, embedding itself face first in the dirt so deep that only the metal soles of its feet stuck out. The force of the impact sent Twer’s chair sliding into the wall.

A tornado made of fire rose up from the ground: Yas-Aytgogh, the guardian of the realm of gods. Twer’s eyes burned to see the rainbow colors of flame even from through a looking glass. He had just enough wit to strap himself into his chair and order his wisp to hold the chair to the floor.

“I HATE FIRE!” Janie closed her eyes and bashed a shield into the flaming tornado as if it was a particularly disgusting cockroach she didn’t want to touch. The shield was tiny. Yas-Aytgogh flew like a paper airplane in the wind.

Twer felt the heat long before the impact. He sent his bubble scampering away at top pace. The air roared as the guardian of the gods fell to earth. As he heard flames crackling behind him, he moved even faster.

When the heat had finally faded, he dared look at the image projected by his telescope again. A swarm of tiny orbs surrounded Janie. The parasites of the Calamities had killed many heroes before—they carried diseases that rotted even the strongest bodies from within. There must be a thousand of them.

“DO I HAVE TO PUNCH EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU? I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS! I NEED TO FIND AMARANTH! DROP DEAD!”

The parasites fell to the ground. How did that work? They were mechanical devices crafted with magic and lost technology, they shouldn’t be able to die! Twer mostly just felt relieved since the diseases they spread killed ordinary people as easily as heroes. That could have turned into a plague.

At this point any sane person would have taken his bubble and moved in the opposite direction as fast as possible. But Twer could smell history being made. His eyes were glued to his screen. Whatever might happen here needed a witness.

“WHY CAN’T I TELEPORT?” Janie raised a fist to punch the barrier.

“Stop!” A glowing beam of white light descended from the sky, casting brightness across the grassy plain and bouncing off the barrier around the mountain city. A voice trilled like a thousand angels singing at once: “Hero Janie, you have been deemed a threat to the peace of this world. We have taken your lover hostage. If you destroy this barrier, then all of Uvom will explode. Step forward and place your hand in the light, and we will drain you of your excessively strong powers. Then you may return to your normal life.”

“Living a normal life with Amaranth sounds great. My powers can be troublesome, dangerous, and annoying.” Janie sounded deceptively calm, yet there was something vicious lurking under the surface of her tone, like a muzzled dog. “But I can’t help noticing that if I gave up my ability to protect us, I have no guarantee that you would return Amaranth to me. You might just kill us both.” She paused. “Your threat would be far more potent if you had Amaranth in front of me in chains. Therefore, I’ve concluded that you haven’t actually managed to breach the protections I put on around Uvom and around Amaranth in particular. You merely slapped up this barrier on top of my own shields to keep me out.”

The light dimmed momentarily, then spoke again. “Then we are at a standstill. We can keep you apart from your lover indefinitely—”

“I wasn’t done talking yet.” The muzzle had come off and Janie growled like a wild animal. “If you take hostages, then I can counter you by grabbing hostages of my own.”

She reached into the sky and ripped a hole open.

The gods came tumbling down: the golden-armored god of war, the white-bearded god of law, the lioness-headed goddess of hunt, and a dozen more falling like rain. A massive glowing net fell over the gods, holding them in place. Twer jerked his eyes away from the brightness but kept recording.

“Who betrayed us and told you that we were trying to take back your powers?” the glowing ball of light who ruled over the gods demanded, throbbing against the bounds of the net.

“You were the ones who attacked me? I just thought the people on top would make the best hostages, plus I figured you would be able to point me at the mysterious enemy if you wanted to live.” Janie coughed. “I mean, obviously the gods of this world would be trying to drain my powers. Ahem.”

Twer wondered if there was something about power that made people stupid. That insult could apply to everyone in this situation, including himself for not running away yet.

Janie squatted down in front of the struggling gods. “I already had a bone to pick with you lot before you decided to make me angry. Your summoning system is shit. I held back at first because I wasn’t completely sure if I’d be stronger than you. I wished to be a million times stronger than anyone else, a wish so powerful it broke the system, but the system’s power came from the gods and it couldn’t give me more power than it had. But what else fueled the magic? Death. For a thousand years before me, heroes were accidentally summoned into the middle of a cursed former empire and died without ever making their way out. How many people from my world did you drag back from the grave only so they could die a second slow and painful death?”

Twer shivered. He did not know how frequently the heroes had been summoned. If he assumed once a year it could have been a thousand. If he assumed a new hero got summoned every time the last one died, and most of them died of thirst in less than a week, the numbers could have reached the hundreds of thousands. Either way…that was a horrific number of dead other worlders. He was sitting on a mass graveyard.

The night had gone uncannily silent, as if the gods themselves could not speak under the force of Janie’s wrath. “All of those painful deaths because you lot didn’t care enough to check. Even if the defective summoning system was an accident, there’s a certain point when carelessness and indifference becomes evil. For a thousand years, all of those gruesome murders fed power to your glitchy system. I’m not sure if I’m a million times stronger than everyone in this world—but I’m definitely stronger than everyone including you.” Janie smiled. Or at least, it was a movement of her lips upward while her eyes contained only cold hatred. “People who harm others with their power shouldn’t have it. How useful of you to tell me that a spell exists to drain godlike power.”

Then Janie fell upon the gods, her hands blazing with white light. They tried to flee from her, a chorus of many impossibly beautiful voices twisted into terrified screams. The net held them down. She did not seem to care how she touched them: kicking, punching, grabbing, or even biting. It was like watching a child throwing a temper tantrum if that child had the power to destroy the gods.

Each being who she touched lost the beautiful light. The lioness transformed into a kitten and crawled off. The ruler of the gods faded away. Janie kicked a piece of empty golden armor, and Twer dodged his bubble sideways again. A few of the gods got in blows. One blasted a hole in Janie’s midsection, but it reformed in seconds. The smile never dropped off her face.

When finished, Janie touched the barrier. “This will make a decent shield for the city now it’s under my control. Hmm, I wonder if I could expand it to cover all the new territory?”

She looked straight at Twer’s glass as if staring into his eyes. Then she teleported inside.

Twer was in such a state of shock that at first he did not believe what he saw in front of him. Not until Janie patted his shoulder and said, “Apples guy? You’re watching from rather close, you’re in the splatter zone.”

“It…was too close in retrospect,” Twer said weakly.

“Yeah, sorry about all the objects I tossed this way.”

“It’s fine, none of them hit me. Even the Calamity barely glanced me.”

“Shhhhhh.” Janie held up her hand. “I do not want to know anything about what happened to the bone dragon. The dragon is in a box and until the box opens, the dragon could be alive or dead.”

Twer thought the bone dragon was embedded in the ground and definitely dead (deader?), but he made a practice not to argue with crazy people who could kill him with a look. He shielded his eyes, but the light kept sneaking through. “You’re glowing.”

“Am I?” Janie’s skin dimmed to normal. “I guess divine power takes some time to digest. Were those seriously gods? They seemed awfully weak. Not much above a villager with a pitchfork, honestly.”

“In my professional opinion, those were the gods. I’m not a religious expert but they did match the statues.”

“Cool, I didn’t want to have to find the real gods and fight them.” Janie patted the back of his chair. “Apples guy. Can I call you apples guy? I’ve already forgotten your name, sorry.”

“Sure, I forgot which fake name I gave you too.”

“Do you think now I’ve defeated the gods, people will finally leave me alone? Because I just want to be left alone. No offense intended to you personally, but I hate your world. The grass is the wrong color. The air doesn’t smell right. Everything just nags at me like an insect bite somewhere on my back I can’t reach. My initial isekai experience was a zero out of five stars, with all the starvation and burning alive. Then one good thing appeared in the entire world: the beautiful and benevolent angel Amaranth.” She sighed as she spoke the name as if releasing a prayer to the heavens.

Twer once again had the sensation that he must be dreaming, because who called the ruthless snake of Uvom a benevolent angel?

“Sometimes I wonder if this world is even real. It feels like I’ve been trapped in a nightmare for a long time—sorry, I’m babbling.”

“No, I understand,” Twer said. “I’m having a distinct sense of unreality right now.”

“Amaranth is the only existence that truly feels real to me because my love is real. As long as Amaranth is here, I can love this world for producing her and for being a place that she loves. Because your world has the perfect Amaranth in it, I’m doing my best not to break it. That’s why, if anything ever happened to Amaranth, I don’t know what I’d do. I can tolerate people going after me, but not her. Do you think you could help the people who employ you understand that they should think of Amaranth not as my weakness, but more as my restraint?”

In Twer’s opinion, the most dangerous god was not an evil god who could be appeased with tribute and obedience. The most dangerous god was an insane god. He gulped. “I will convey around the world that you annihilated the entire pantheon of gods and absorbed their power. Although I’ve learned not to underestimate stupidity, it would be difficult to find anyone willing to attack you after I show them the events of this night. I will make sure to include your desire to be left alone and the importance of your lover’s safety.”

“That’s great.” Janie patted the chair again. “Can I do anything for you in return?”

“There’s no need, I’m planning to sell my recordings for a great sum.” Twer felt desperate to have the all-powerful being leave as soon as possible.

“I insist on doing at least some small favor—” Janie’s eyes fell on the book poking out from under Twer’s chair. “Is that The Wizard’s Wand of Wantonness?”

“Um.” Twer nudged the book under his chair with his foot.

“No need to be embarrassed, I love that book too.” Janie smiled, and for the first time the expression looked genuine and happy. “Hey, I know what to give you.” A book materialized in her palm. “Srella bribed the author to obtain an early copy of the sequel. She gave it to me after she was done, and I’ve already finished reading it. You can have it next, it’s very good.” She dropped the book in his lap, then vanished.

Actually, that was a very thoughtful gift. Twer needed reading material because he was going on a nice, long vacation to an isolated location far away.

Srella was in a grumpy mood from being woken up late at night by a wisp and half-dragged to the highest tower. However, her annoyance faded away as soon as she saw her lady’s face.

Amaranth had glassy eyes. Her chest heaved, and since she was in dragon form, she was shaking the entire room. Srella had never seen her lady so anxious, not even before battle.

Her claws grinding into the floor, Amaranth growled, “Janie has been replaced by an illusion.”

Srella turned to look at Janie, apparently sleeping on the bed. It looked like the real Janie to her, but she believed her lady. Besides, Amaranth had rattled and collapsed the piles of coins around the room with her voice, so Janie should have woken up.

“Only a power on the same level as a god could have slipped through the wards on my hoard without breaking them or alerting me.” Amaranth’s voice held the peculiar calm of someone who had reached the worst-case scenario, so there was nothing else to fear. “I’m going after Janie. I have dozens of active tracking spells on her, so I know she remains near. I do not expect to return against such a strong foe. There’s a plan for transition of power in the city in the hidden drawer under my desk, you know where to find it. That said, I personally recommend that you flee the city and save yourself. I do not believe it will stand without me, and that’s without taking into account our mysterious enemy.”

To her horror, Srella realized that Amaranth was preparing to go to her own death. And it was all completely unnecessary, because Janie had clearly left that illusion herself so she could sneak out to murder more people. Srella had to speak up, but she had no idea how to even begin explaining. She wet her lips. “My lady—ahem, speaking to you as a friend, Amaranth—”

Janie teleported into the hoard, her doppelgänger vanishing as she landed on the bed. “Phew, what an exhausting night. I need some cuddling time with my—” She looked up. “Oh. Amaranth. Um.”

“You left,” Amaranth said. It was amazing how only two words could contain such heartbreak.

“I’m back? I’m sorry?” Janie poked her fingers together. “Look, I told the truth back when I said my power was defective. It took me some time to figure it out, and I’ve been only using it to help you. I’m sorry. I love you.” She offered up the words like a plea, looking at the bed instead of Amaranth’s expression.

Slowly, Amaranth said, “This explains the gryphons. And the tribute. And many other things I didn’t care to see.” Tail lashing, her serpentine eyes flickered to Srella. “It seems everyone else already knew.”

Srella winced, because that would make it so much worse. Amaranth didn’t take kindly to humiliation.

Janie swallowed, hard. “This doesn’t have to change anything.” She reached out her hand…and Amaranth moved away. Srella didn’t know which of them looked more surprised about it.

“I need some time alone,” Amaranth said with such glacial rage that the entire room frosted over. “I’m going flying.”

Srella wanted to scream, NO! Don’t let her leave! If you let her leave she’ll think that you don’t care about her, that it was all a ploy to use her for shelter. She’s always been used by people around her, it’s a sore spot. You should cling to her and beg her to stay. But Janie needed to figure that out herself, it wouldn’t work if someone else told her.

“You’re not leaving.” Janie didn’t say it as if she was angry or upset. Instead she sounded like she was stating a fact like the weather being sunny. “I promised to be yours, and you promised to be mine in return. And there is no force in this world that can take you away from me, I made certain of it. We’re going to be together forever.”

Five layers of shimmering shields appeared around the hoard at the same instant Janie teleported out. Amaranth growled, “How dare you—” The sound cut off with a final purple shield, then Janie slammed and locked the door.

Turning to Srella, Janie said brightly, “I’m going to leave Amaranth alone for a bit as she requested. She’ll come around as soon as she has time to miss me. Since I’m showing her love in the same way that she shows me, I’m sure she understands my feelings and already feels much better.”

Srella almost wanted to laugh except her head hurt too much. That had not exactly been the outcome she’d been hoping for, but it was better than letting Amaranth leave. If Janie had let Amaranth leave without trying to stop her, then it would have caused a permanent wound on Amaranth’s heart.

The tower room shook.

Janie added an extra shield. “That’s her expressing how happy she feels now that she realizes I’m not just using her and I sincerely want her to stay by my side.”

Srella stared, trying to figure out if Janie was in denial or if it was possible that Janie actually did know Amaranth the best.

Stretching her arms, Janie said, “Amaranth deserves a break. I’ll run the city for her. What do I need to do?”

“Why are you asking me?” Srella took a step backwards. “I work for Duchess Amaranth, not you. If she’s on vacation then I could use one too.”

“If you don’t help me, then I’ll double everyone’s taxes so that people see me as a tyrant and welcome Amaranth’s later return.”

Unfortunately, that probably included Srella’s taxes. “Get into the office and I’ll brief you on the highlights.”

Srella slammed a massive stack of paperwork onto the desk.

“Whoa, I have to do all of this today?” Janie asked.

“Today?” Srella laughed. “This is the morning’s paperwork. There will be more in the afternoon. Oh, and for some odd reason, we’ve received magical missives from around the world asking what you intend now that you are the new Chief of Gods. Do you have something to explain to me?”

Janie twiddled her thumbs. “Would it be bad if I’d destroyed one or more of these god creatures?”

“Janie!” Srella slapped her hands down on the desk.

“They started it!”

“You can’t keep using that excuse. At some point you have to learn how to resolve conflict without murder.”

“The gods granted me a power only good for murder, so that’s on them. Besides, they took Uvom hostage.”

“I was never religious. Besides, we have a lot of gods. A few less won’t disrupt the magical ecosystem too much.”

“Or, you know…a lot less.”

“Janie,” Srella growled.

Janie ducked under her desk.

Srella dragged her out. “This is a huge upheaval of power. You’ll need to prepare a statement for all the concerned parties at once.”

“Can I say something like ‘Don’t mess with me or else?’”

“No. For one thing, you need to reassure people so you don’t cause a mass panic. For another, you should not appear to be a complete fool. Your power should deter most people from attacking you, but if you come across as a babbling moron, then the flood of people trying to use you will never end. Your first statement after rising to godlike power must be very carefully calculated.”

“I’ll think about it,” Janie whimpered. “Is there something easier I can start with?”

“We need to replenish the food supply for the unicorn stables.”

“Buy hay?”

“Unicorns can only eat fruit!” Srella glared witheringly.

“Okay, where can I buy fruit?”

“Chrysis supplies us with the most food, but it could be a mistake to clearly favor them as a trading partner when we currently have half a dozen countries all desperate to form alliances with us.”

“We buy from somewhere else?”

“We also can’t snub a long-term ally. You’ll need to carefully divide your signs of favor. In addition, the ducal treasury has been running low due to our spending on the new settlements. We need to take out a loan, which shouldn’t pose too much risk once the settlements become profitable. When I last spoke to my lady, she was debating different borrowers.” Srella shifted forward a stack of papers. “Here is a list of terms depending on where we obtain the loan.”

Janie picked up one paper, turned pale, and dropped it. “I can’t understand a word of this!” Her tone turned wheedling. “Srella, please, what if you ran the duchy and I provided intimidation whenever you need it?”

“Absolutely not.” Srella crossed her arms. “I’m a lady’s maid. My expertise lies in fashion, not politics.” She’d only recently taken over helping Amaranth with her schedule after the previous secretary proved to be a traitor. Although she did not say it aloud, Srella was more willing to go outside her duties for Amaranth than Janie, since she did not approve of this hostile takeover. “I will not do all the hard work of running this city for you. See this paperwork? This is your life from now on.”

Janie ran out of the office.

Even after removing all the shields, the hoard remained uncannily silent. That might be a bad sign.

Janie prostrated herself before the door. “Amaranth, please come out. I made a mistake. I know nothing about running a city. I barely even know anything about this world because I’ve been lazing around in bed all day while you pampered me. I’m hopeless without you. I’ll drive the city to the ground, then end up starving on the streets again. Please help me. I need you.”

The door opened, and Amaranth strode out wearing a black blouse with a lacy blue flower on the collar. Her brilliant purple cloak had golden epaulettes, lending a military flavor that matched her tall black boots. “Of course you need me. Where are the wisps? I’ll prepare an international statement at once about our joint intentions.”

“AMARANTH!” Janie latched onto Amaranth’s leg. “Please let me stay with you all day. I will cry if you get out of my sight.”

“How can I refuse such a cute request?” Amaranth patted Janie’s head. “Really, I don’t know what you’d do without me.”

It had given Janie mixed feelings to see new growth across the Cursed Lands. The ashes from her nightmares had been replaced with life. But she didn’t want all the suffering caused by this place to be completely forgotten. All her fellow travelers from Earth deserved better. She didn’t even know their names, but she wanted to acknowledge their graves somehow.

When Janie had approached Amaranth with the idea of creating a monument, she’d been uncertain what she’d wanted. Amaranth had gone beyond any expectations. The white monument rose up from the center of the Cursed Lands with a clock on top wreathed in artificial flowers. Magic had created the glowing names running down the side of the monument. The spell had found the names of everyone who had died in the Cursed Lands for the last thousand years, and from the spelling, most of them had been from Earth.

“It’s beautiful.” Janie pressed her fingers on the white surface that resembled marble. The light of the names played across her skin. A ray of light shone from the sky above, keeping the monument perfectly illuminated at any time of day. “It wouldn’t have been possible to create something like this back on Earth. Magic is amazing. You’re amazing, Amaranth.”

Inhaling deeply, Janie allowed herself to feel a sense of wonder for this world. She’d always loved magic in her stories. Janie could not help but love this working of magic, because Amaranth had made it for her, and she loved Amaranth. Just like that, Janie could finally even feel some love for this world too. After all, a place that had produced Amaranth couldn’t be all bad.

From behind, Amaranth put her arms around Janie. “I hate that you suffered so much in this place. Thank you for surviving long enough to find me.” She pressed a kiss to the top of Janie’s head.

Janie snuggled into those arms. “I’m glad I survived.” She wouldn’t have always been able to say that. But when she felt this loved by Amaranth, she could even start to love herself a bit too. A full three months had passed without her having the impulse to cut herself. Her self-hatred had eased ever since she’d realized she hadn’t been entirely to blame for her own suffering. The ex-gods deserved her hatred more than herself. Revenge was better than therapy.

“I need to try harder as your lover.” Amaranth nipped Janie’s ear. “It’s embarrassing to dragons everywhere to have a human outdo us in possessiveness. I watched a copy of the recording that information broker spread around.”

“It’s embarrassing.” Janie squirmed.

“I thought that side of you was devastatingly attractive.” Amaranth licked Janie’s neck. “I’ll show you just how much once we get home.”

A shiver ran down Janie’s body. “When you put it like that, I’ll slay gods for you anytime.”

On a warm, sunny day, Srella liked to read on her balcony. When she heard Janie and Amaranth return home, she looked up. Despite Amaranth being in human form, that hadn’t stopped Janie from hitching a ride on her back. They looked happy together. Srella had noticed how Amaranth seemed more relaxed now she had someone else to share the burden of defending the city. With the new powerful magical protections around Uvom, neither of them needed to feel bound to this place. Amaranth had been talking about taking Janie on a world tour. Although Srella knew that they would return to the city they loved.

Janie crawled up Amaranth’s back so that her face dangled down over Amaranth’s lips. Then Janie kissed Amaranth upside-down.

The playfulness of it made Srella smile. She murmured, “Maybe I should find a lover.”

Janie teleported up to the balcony. “I’ll help you! I have a huge number of wealthy and powerful people who would love to arrange any marriage that would bring them a connection to me.”

Apparently enhanced hearing could be added to the list of Janie’s powers. Srella’s eye twitched. “I’m not interested in an arranged marriage and certainly not one so far above my station. That would only bring troublesome complications.”

Janie shook her head. “Sorry, I shouldn’t offer you my trash, we can do better for you. Right, Amaranth?”

“Srella, getting married?” Amaranth sounded horrified. “My maids are always quitting their jobs to marry. That would be quite unacceptable. Srella, dear, I’ll make certain to find you someone who will live at the palace permanently. It would have to be someone I consider worthy, of course. I will devote my full attention to this important matter.”

Desperately, Srella said, “Wait, stop, I actually meant that I want a pet.”

OMAKE TIME!

Omake: How Srella and Amaranth Settled Matters

Amaranth: You could have told me that my wife had godlike powers!

Srella: You had almost as much information about the situation as I did, you were clearly in denial.

Amaranth: Humph. Maybe I knew all along and was only waiting for the right moment to reveal it.

Srella: Whatever appeases your pride, my lady.

Omake: Different Perceptions

Janie: I made a new friend today who shares my reading tastes.

Twer: I stared into the face of god, and she’s completely insane.