To be quite frank with you, I couldn’t care less about their names, especially after seeing Stevin wounded like that, but still, I got to my feet.

  “My name is Elio Welchia, and these are my companions: Airina, Enna, Arther, Silvien, Melsa, and her son, small Arthur over there.” I pointed to each in turn, waiting for them to stand as I spoke their names. “And lastly, Stevin.”

  I sat back down quietly, ignoring the little smirk Stevin gave me when I ended the list with his name, a very deliberate point I made that was clearly not lost on him.

  Despite being back home, my words showed that he was still considered part of the group that had brought him here. An action to which even his sister nodded, a small gesture of appreciation before all the eyes turned to his father as he got back to his feet.

  “I am the Lord of House Barta, Duke Silius Barta,” the man began, offering his hands toward the two women beside him. “My wife, Duchess Alice Barta. And my daughter, Sabrina Barta.”

  Worth mentioning was the fact that this poor excuse of a father never mentioned Stevin when he presented the rest of his family to us. Still, it was to be expected, no matter how much I wanted to hate the man. After all, everyone present, including those from the Adventurer’s Guild, already knew of Stevin and his situation.

  “Our second son, Alther Barta, is currently away,” he added. “So, forgive us for not acquainting you with him at this time.”

  With that, the three of them sat down, and the four people from the Guild immediately rose. An unlikely young elven woman, clearly the most formally dressed of the bunch, stepped forward and inclined her head.

  “I am the current local Guild Master, Chartelia,” she announced. “Present together with three of my associates. We represent the Adventurer’s Guild and were summoned here to verify the quest’s validity, its events leading to the loss of life and the prolonged absence, as well as several of the claims that have been… made in our absence.”

  For the next two hours, the only person who spoke was Enna, recounting everything that had happened from the moment she and her party took the quest to their passing in the fight against the savage tribe, her captivity, as well as the lie we had prepared for this exact moment.

  “That was where I met Stevin for the first time,” she explained. “Together we managed to escape, only to collapse and be rescued by Sir Elio and Airina, who cared for us until we recovered.”

  “Savages?” Silius asked, turning toward Stevin. “Were you really so weak as to get captured by savages? Are you still afraid to spill blood even when your own life depends on it?”

  Stevin did not reply, only looked downward, for he knew no matter what he said would just be spun into more lessons and reasons to hit him. However, I knew that was not the case.

  When the slave traders came to us, he was ready to spill their blood without question if I didn’t stop them. He just didn’t want to spill the blood of innocents or the blood of his own family. Since when was that a sin?

  Silius slapped the table, annoyed at the disrespect Stevin was showing him in front of everyone, which made little Arthur start crying from the suddenness and strength of the sound.

  “My Duke,” said Chartelia, an uncomfortable look on her face. “Our job is not done here. So please, offer us the opportunity to finalize this once and for all.”

  Silius sighed, pressing two fingers across the bridge of his nose, “Do forgive me, please, ask away.”

  She nodded in appreciation before composing herself again, waiting for Melsa to properly calm down little Arthur. Once the crying subsided, she turned toward Enna, asking several questions on the matter, giving already practiced answers until they were satisfied with it.

  Once done, Chartelia turned to her associates, who nodded toward her, approving of something unknown to us.

  “The events sound credible,” Chartelia clarified, turning to Enna, “May the Gods rest your party’s souls, and may the High Temples offer a prayer for their salvation. The Guild will contact the deceased’s families and share the compensation with them as per the Adventurer’s Contract. As for your own rewards and advancements, we would like to handle that tomorrow, together with the remaining matters. Is that fine with you, My Duke?”

  “All of them?” Silius asked, eyes wide in surprise.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Chartelia nodded, “Yes, unfortunately. It took longer than expected, and we have other matters to attend to.”

  “Very well,” Silius nodded before turning toward me specifically, “Our guests must be tired as well, so it would be most honorable for us to end it here.”

  Thus concluding today’s bullshit, allowing our party to be taken by maids to a separate, detached wing of the mansion, where we were given rooms and maids to care for us.

  Not caring for any of that and waiting for dinner, I excused myself from the rest and moved toward my room to digest what had happened.

  Putting down the box that Stevin’s mother gave me, and with a quiet groan, I sat on the incredibly comfortable bed and leaned back, allowing myself to sink into its softness.

  This… now this is what I call a proper bed. Mattress, covers, pillows, and a pleasant flowery smell. Not hay, rotten wood, or straight rocks, moist ground, and mythological creatures.

  For a moment, all of Stevin’s family’s sins were forgiven, until I remembered what they actually did.

  It was frightening to realize how easily luxury almost bought my silence and forgiveness on the matter. So before the life of riches of evil people could corrupt me, I turned back toward the events of today.

  One thing I had failed to properly grasp before was Enna’s own situation.

  Yes, she was, by modern Homo sapiens standards, a proper bitch. Annoying, selfish, and constantly fueling Stevin’s propaganda machine about my identity as if it were her divine calling.

  But after hearing her story, her party’s story, how they died, how she didn’t even have the chance to grieve, to pray for the families of those who were lost, or simply breathe the madness out… well, it slowly began to excuse her behavior, at least to some extent.

  It was still irritating to remember how eagerly she doubted not only my humanity but whether I was some ancient evil or divine being. But at least now it made sense.

  What it really revealed, however, was something far less pleasant: I had barely cared about the people around me until now. Not Stevin, not Enna, not Airina, not the beastfolk, not even Relia. And to be frank, why should I have?

  I left Calcan Castle for this damned place because I had to. A chain of coincidences and Directives from Ephe had dragged me here. Yet now, standing in this comfy bed, I realized something unsettling: I was starting to shove my own goals aside to help Stevin. To consider accepting Enna’s or Relia’s invitations. To prioritize getting the beastfolk to safety.

  I wasn’t attaching myself to the world. I was attaching myself to the people in it. Why?

  Because they helped me forget my own problems. My own grieving. My own issues. Be it the shattered reality abovehead, my wife's passing, or how to solve both of those things. You could say that I should just follow the Directives, but we both know how lacking those were in their own way, as well as who gave them to me.

  The Custodians, Ephe, the Most High, and whatever the hell they were was as good a guess as mine was. Probably Gods, but still, if they were Gods, they were fucking disastrous at it. Not to mention the lack of proper communication between both parties.

  Want proof?

  ‘Ephe,’ I said inside my head, ‘How do I solve the Fracture overhead?’

  [...]

  ‘Is Stevin’s father wanting his own son’s death?’

  [...]

  ‘Should I just kill myself?’

  [No.]

  ‘No tips then?’

  [Not at the Moment.]

  See? Proper uselessness. I’ve seen blind aid dogs doing a better job than this Magical Schizoprenia was.

  After an hour of brooding in my own monologue, I finally remembered my own stupidity, so before I could fall asleep in my newfound sanctuary of a bed, I got up and picked up the box Stevin’s mother gave me.

  “I am curious to see what’s inside as well,” Relia muttered as she started materializing outside my clothes, her shadow form vanishing in the corner of my eyes as I stared at the box and the exquisite details it had all around it.

  “I am curious to see what such a woman would find fitting for me,” I added with a sarcastic smile. “A duchess… fancy shit.”

  “Meh,” Relia shrugged. “I am a Queen.”

  “Damn nice,” I muttered before, as if taken back to reality, I straightened myself, blinked, and turned to look at Relia, “...You’re a what?”

  “Did I forget to mention that?” Relia asked, surprised.

  Yes, you bloody did, woman.

  “What about your Kingdom then?”

  “The Twin Monarchy of Laskhar,” she repeated the Kingdom’s name, “Twin. Double Monarchy. Two separate Royal Families.”

  “Despite the obvious sarcasm, I honestly cannot imagine such a thing ever working,” I sighed, turning back toward the box. “Either way, good to know I have a Queen swimming through my pants and coat as if it’s a normal thing to do.”

  She chuckled at that, drawing closer to the bed where I placed the closed box, “The Twin Monarchy has been and will be stable even without me. And stop complaining about my shadow when I know you do not mind it.”

  Shaking my head in absolute denial, I sighed, leaning toward the box.

  “What do you think her gift is?” Relia asked, leaning curiously past my shoulder.

  And as I slowly opened the box to see what lay inside, I could only pray that it would be a normal gift. Something a mother would give the savior of her child.

  …

  I was wrong. It was bad.

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