I awoke to an empty bed. The darkened skies still fluttered through the obsidian-framed windows, casting light on a simple breakfast of eggs and sausage—a Nimyra staple—resting on a table that cost more than peasant farmers made in a year.

  “Good morning, Servi!” happily chirped my goddess as she poured three gsses of tea from a sparkly red pitcher. Her soft smile illuminated my whole world. “Do you feel better?”

  “Yeah. A little. I needed a good cry.”

  “That reminds me of a Momo saying,” said the girl in question, referring to herself in third-person. “A good cry is never a bad thing, you know. Sometimes, you need to let it all out. A good meal can help with that, you know. So, come on, get out of bed. It’s time to eat!”

  I joined them. The blood crystal silverware quietly scraped against the ptes as we discussed whatever came to mind.

  “It’s sometimes good to take it slow like this,” said Itarr. “That’s what Dineria told me. She gives good advice. Cire does as well. I wonder if it’s an elf thing?”

  “Maybe. Grampy once said you can always turn to an elf for wisdom beyond your ears,” Momo said as I sipped my tea. The sugar tantalized my tastebuds and quenched an unnecessary thirst. The crispy sausage was delicious. The eggs were the perfect sponge to soak the excess grease. A healthy meal it was not, but damn if it wasn’t delectable.

  Immortals don't have to worry about clogged arteries or heart attacks...

  Momo, Itarr, and I...

  Maybe it was a pcebo effect, but the bond binding us strengthened.

  *****

  *****

  The conversation turned to a much livelier note as we finished breakfast. “Come on. Let’s go see what Albert’s been up to.” I gave Itarr and Momo my hands to hold. Itarr’s tower was always impressive. We descended the circur staircase before departing through the towering doors, heading for the bloody fountain. Albert’s unmistakable horns peeked out from behind it, but I didn’t expect to see Merka beside him.

  The field of towering walls and scarecrows of dirt were also unexpected.

  “Good morning, you three,” said the butler, turning around. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Yeah. I feel better. Things are looking okay now. I still must work on myself, but I’m not alone.”

  “An excellent answer.” Albert almost looked proud or impressed. Merka’s confusion was evident in his writing. He was worried about me, but I told him I was fine. Everything was okay.

  “Did he tell you about the conduit?”

  He did. It feels familiar, but it doesn’t work for me.

  “We presume the reason is reted to his unique circumstance. A geomancer formed his shell, but the soul is human,” replied Albert. “If the conduit is only permitted for beginners, then he would not have permission. The skill would regard him as an intermediate or advanced geomancer, or whatever rank, title, or status Suusa reached before his demise.”

  Albert told me more about him. I know I can do everything he can. Merka demonstrated it by stomping the ground. Tiny fractures uprooted a thick boulder that flew toward one of the many walls when he punched it. He also formed those warhammers Suusa used without much effort. I haven’t tried the sandstorm. I’m afraid to go that far too quickly.

  “It’s always good to be cautious,” said Momo. “Curiosity killed the cat, so as a singi, you gotta be wary of some things. However, I can be as curious as I want, huh?” I could always count on her to throw a little joke in there.

  Even if it was a little morbid...

  “Did you make any progress?” asked Itarr.

  “Yes. Merka helped devise a training regimen to hone our abilities.”

  “I suppose that’s reted?” I inquired, gesturing to the walls.

  “It almost looks like a pyground,” added Momo, who tapped a scarecrow on the head.

  “Affirmatively. Please observe.” Albert held his conduit to the nearby dirt pile and crafted a nearly fwless scimitar. He cut the first scarecrow down, but his weapon broke. The shattering was expected—not what happened after. The gritty fragments didn’t fall. Instead, they swarmed the conduit, forming another sword almost instantly as Albert dashed to the next scarecrow.

  He repeated the process—attacking, breaking, repairing— until the final scarecrow y defeated in shattered ruin. “This is the first part. The idea is to focus on speed and endurance. Unfortunately, I cannot maintain a bde for more than one strike, but if I could, I would fight until it broke, repair it, move to the next one, and continue until the end.”

  “The goal is to make it st longer than the attempt before? If it survives five strikes, try to make it st six?” Albert nodded. So, it was like training until failure. That was something bodybuilders did, right?

  I think that's called progressive overload.

  Unlike them, I didn’t have muscles to rest. Then again, time worked wonders. Momo had said the mind processes faster when asleep, so taking a nap after hitting a pteau wouldn’t hurt.

  “It’s not only endurance and speed. It’s flexibility and adaptability. A geomancer has total control over the earth. I feel it’s partly limited by imagination.” Albert formed a whip. He snapped it at the closest scarecrow, but it was too rigid. It didn’t even make the noise whips were known for. “There’s a learning curve. It won’t be easy.”

  “What about the walls?”

  “Another test of adaptability.” Albert swapped the whip for a rope of sand with a tri-pointed top.

  “A grappling hook?” Albert nodded, approaching the nearest wall. It stood about ten feet. Unfortunately, the rope wasn’t flexible. It was too thick and heavy, so it didn’t reach. We moved to a shorter wall, but it couldn’t support his weight when he tried climbing it.

  Itarr had an idea. She retrieved her conduit, split it in two, gripped both, and pressed her hands into the wall. She focused and slowly pushed into it to create handholds. “Oh? That’s impressive.”

  “Servi did something simir when she first entered the city,” replied my goddess, recalling how I cmbered the walls using a weapon to dig out finger holds. “Imagine how easier it would’ve been if we had this!”

  “Can you climb it?”

  “Yep!” Itarr ran into a problem almost right away… She couldn’t manipute the earth around her feet, so footholds were out of the question. It took longer than she wanted, but Itarr cmbered to the top using only her upper body. She stood, raising her arms like a boxer who had won a tough match.

  Merka used his magic to create a slide for Itarr to get down. It branched off the back and curled to the fountain. Her giggles and ughter followed her fun descent until she was back beside me.

  “With it all being said and done, this is what I believe to be the optimal training regimen for our current level. I’m sure there are improvements to make, but we are beginners. Might as well have fun with it while we can.”

  I’ll help, too. I have this magic. I didn’t want it, but it’s here. I must master it.

  “Thanks, Merka. We appreciate it.”

  “Oh?” Itarr focused, turning her eyes skyward. “I hear Ni-Ni knocking at the door. It must be time to work.” She cracked a smile while closing one eye. “The orphanage won’t build itself!”

  *****

  *****

  We’d fallen into a comfortable routine. Every day’s schedule was set, with days spent working on the homestead. The nights were for training after eating dinner. It was predictable, and there was a sense of security in that. I could see how it would appeal to some people, though I wasn’t sure where I stood. It was okay, I guess. Even if the predictability might wear on others after a while.

  Srassa still hadn’t returned, and we hadn’t received any letters. Meanwhile, Olga grew stronger with Fisher’s daughters by her side. Those two had taken to her well, holding her hands while she practiced walking a little farther each day. They’d even become close with Merka, whom they thought was 'super cool.' Marissa told me she trusted any spirit of mine around her children.

  The Roommate Elves stayed busy, with Dineria putting in extra hours at her shop. Cire, much to my surprise, was working on progress reports for the guildmaster. I was sure an infamous green-haired elf had a hand in this 'temporary promotion' to give Cire a needed break. Apparently, these reports were sent to the duchess, so if anything, it could help our reputation. Cire and Itarr were getting along wonderfully, always ughing together. My goddess still had some ways to go, though. They were faint, but she sometimes had these ‘cracks.’

  Every night, we trained without fail. Progress felt slow but steady, but the techniques became more natural. Our practice swords shattered less easily; the grappling hooks and whips grew more flexible. Maniputing earth felt less like relying on a crutch and more like a natural extension of ourselves.

  Albert thought our progress might be quicker because of Itarr. A goddess’s blood flowed through our veins. We shared a soul, too. Plus, even though [Earth Manipution] was split among the three of us, it came from a single skill source. Maybe our progress was shared, so we were learning 3x as fast as if we did it alone?

  *****

  *****

  “We’re making good progress, aren’t we?” Momo suddenly asked as we rexed in Nimyra’s apartment. Olga was exhausted from a long day of walking. The glimmering moonlight illuminated her tired face as she sat in Merka’s p while he crafted a fishing pole from a bunch of rocks. The two had pns to go fishing soon, and you couldn’t do that without the proper equipment.

  “On the orphanage?”

  “Yep. It’s coming along nicely. We can really get to it once the fire mages show up."

  “They’re scheduled to arrive tomorrow, so... Hey, how does this look?” I showed off a cat statue I was trying to make.

  “Eh? That’s kinda cute, but... Why is the head a square?”

  “It’s not supposed to be a square,” I retorted, fixing the issue. “It lost its rigidity.”

  “Well, you have singi like me, so why not have square-headed cats?”

  “Are you a square-headed singi?”

  “Sometimes,” Momo joked. “My grampy called me that when I misbehaved.”

  “Haha.”

  Olga soon fell asleep.

  I’ll put her to bed since it's te. I’ll see you in the morning.

  “Good night, Merky!” Momo said with a wink. The golem closed the door when he left, and I hopped on the bed with Momo, falling over like a sack of bricks on her p. She tapped my nose before taking the cat statue with a satisfied smile. “Square-headed or not, it’s cute. It’s proof you’re getting better.”

  “Just wait a year or two. I bet I’ll make something to blow this out of the water. And... Maybe I can...” I pointed at my ring.

  Momo got the hint as we went to our soul world. We arrived as Albert willed a dirt chain around his wrist, controlling it like a third limb.

  "Maybe... I wonder if that's possible?" I whispered as we watched him train.

  "Maybe you can what?" asked Momo. Itarr was at Cire's house with Dineria, so it was just us. Although she was literally a phone call away from showing up.

  “Fix Merka.” I didn’t know how to approach the topic. “Maybe make him more...human? With a face that moves? Or skin that resembles flesh? You think that’s possible?”

  “I don’t see why not. I’m sure it won’t be easy, but I think that’s a good goal to work towards. Maybe you can add vocal cords? I’m sure Merka would wanna speak again.”

  “I’m gd I have your support. Let’s not tell him, though. I don’t want to get his hopes up.”

  “You’ll always have my support, but yeah. That’s a good idea. And if you don’t believe in yourself? Well, you can believe in me that believes in you. And in the Srassa who believes in you. And the Itarr and Albert, too.”

  “Okay,” I chuckled. “I get the point. Well... No time like the present, right? We’re burning the midnight oil, so...” I retrieved my conduit as Momo summoned her mirror, and we did our respective training while cheering each other on.

  Things were...looking good, right? Srassa would have to get back to us. Harold would then tell me he found Saline and Cue.

  The uncomfortable conversations could come afterward-- I even welcomed that discomfort if it meant I'd have the ones I cared for in my life again.

  I hope we get permission to leave after the orphanage is complete. Then we can go find them in Adenaford... Please be safe...

  *****

  *****

  The next day marked a substantial milestone in the homestead’s construction because the fire mages had finally arrived! It was finally time to use their magic to harden the limestone concrete mixtures!

  At long st!

  Although everything had dried, the mages knew spells to reinforce the foundation. As a geomancer, I was sure there was some way to fortify it even more, but I wasn't adept with it. Merka refused to try since he couldn’t forgive himself if he accidentally weakened a few critical spots by mistake. The most he had done was ‘harden’ it enough to remain ‘stable’ in the loosest sense, with the foreman understanding Merka’s work was just a stopgap until the professionals came.

  However... That wasn’t all.

  It was finally time to put up the walls for the stone watchtowers! Deliveries had been flooding in. The day and night crews were focused on building them, and they had finally finished. The walls used a different cement mixture that wouldn’t benefit much from the fme mages, so they showed up at the right time.

  Usually, putting one up would’ve taken a lot of logistical effort since they were heavy as hell, but I expedited the process. It took some careful arguments from Albert to convince the foreman to let me help.

  But not without a stark warning. I’d be in deep shit if the walls broke because it wouldn’t be cheap or easy to repce them.

  "You don’t have to worry about that, boss man. Just watch, okay?” I told him.

  Itarr’s manifestation enhanced my familiarity with the ring, so even something like this towering wall took less than a minute to absorb. Once inside the ring, my undead had orders to lift it upright using ropes Merka had attached. He helped from within with his magic to speed the process up.

  Meanwhile, Percival, Cire, and Fisher were mixing another load of limestone concrete. That would be poured into the deep trenches the night team had dug after the walls were slotted in.

  “What the hell…” The foreman's eyes went wide as his jaw dropped.

  “See? I told you I had it.” The wall suddenly appeared within the trench, fitting precisely like a glove. The ropes Merka had attached were grabbed by a team of kobolds to keep it upright and steady. Itarr sprang into action and absorbed the concrete. She walked around and poured it, and the mages followed behind with their spells to accelerate the hardening process.

  “It’s as easy as that,” I said, tapping the wall. “That’s rock solid. It ain’t going nowhere.”

  “Yay! It worked like you said, Servi!” Itarr skipped over for a hug. Momo joined. The rest of the crew cheered, but no one took a break. Not yet. That was just one wall-- we had more left to go. That didn’t account for the roof, dders, or buttresses to strengthen the towers.

  So, that took the rest of the day. We had just finished putting up the st walls for the final watchtower when a caravan of merchants and their escorts pulled up to watch.

  The gathered crowd oohed and awed at the process. I didn’t think anything of it because onlookers weren’t anything new.

  Night fell not long after, and we returned to the Crimson Grotto. Cire had pns to go shopping with Dineria, so we parted ways at the market with smiles and hugs.

  We had just sat down for dinner when someone knocked at the door.

  “Are we expecting company?” asked Itarr, whose tastebuds enjoyed a delicious cookie.

  “Are we?” I looked at Nimyra. She shook her head.

  “You dies remain sitting. I’ll get it. I am the handsome gentleman, after all,” said Percival. He fshed a wink, standing. Nimyra thanked him as he turned the handle.

  “Yes? Can I help you?” Percival asked the crimson-haired singi standing before him. She looked like a nun. The woman gazed past me to lock eyes on Itarr.

  I felt a deep gnaw burrow in my stomach.

  Why did I feel this uneasiness?

  RuggyRuggy