Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Zorian was starting to regret moving to the city. He was being followed, and he didn’t appreciate the fact that the person following him had a mind shield. And this was especially concerning since before now, Zorian and Zach thought they were alone as magic users in this world.

While researching the gate spell, and trying to use planetary alignment and the stars to calibrate the location without another at the other end, Zorian and Zach were spat out on a completely unfamiliar world, with little but the clothes on their backs. When Zorian tried to reach back to his back up simulacrums or Zach tried to reach for his teleport beacon in the mansion, neither were successful. Exploring the strange place they were in, they found a country and culture totally alien to them. They couldn’t even speak to the locals with the eight languages they could speak between them.

Zorian and Zach had to live in the woods for a few months there, both of them collaborating together to build a hidden shack and slowly build up an understanding of the local language. Slowly over time they were able to piece together the big picture of what happened. The mana wasn’t toxic to absorb into the body, greatly increasing mana recovery time. The language spoken was called “English,” and they were in some type of Republic called “The United States of America.” No one had heard of Eldemar, or even the Ikosian Empire. Magic wasn’t known by the populace, fully dismissed as old superstition. And strangest of all: monsters roamed the cities cloaked in some type of illusion spell that didn’t affect himself nor Zach. The monsters didn’t seem to be attacking anyone, yet, but Zorian wasn’t going to let his guard down around them.

After getting adjusted to the extremely advanced technology and having a good grasp of the language Zach and Zorian worked on properly integrating into society piece by piece. First they got fake identification, and then they moved from where they were staying, the Appalachian mountains, to one of the major metropoles, pretending to having lived in a very isolated town that no one had heard of.

Zorian and Zach debated whether to live in the capital of the state they were living in or the major port city closer by, and after some debate decided to instead live in a closer city, Buffalo, as it would give them the urban access while avoiding the possible encounters with the government or major political powers that would raise suspicion (Although they apparently didn’t avoid attention enough with someone trailing Zorian).

So after finding employment Zach as a firefighter and Zorian doing accounting, the pair split their time between making money, learning more about the world, and studying more about their own magic. Zorian spent most of his time in libraries, science, and history museums, while Zach did his own method of “studying,” which was going to bars, hooking up with strangers, and doing whatever ‘social butterfly’ things he liked.

But over time Zorian ran into a person again and again. He didn’t trust her saying it was “coincidence” for multiple reasons, and the most predominant being her mind shield that blocked any casual scans Zorian gave with his empathy.

Zorian may not know who this “Heather” woman was, but he didn’t like her obvious magical skill and her “casual” interest in him. The thing that annoyed him the most though was how she was pretending to not be a mage when she almost certainly knew he was one. It was there, in the museum thinking about his own frustrations and seeing Heather pretend to not notice him at this seventh location they’ve run into each other, that Zorian decided to pull a Zach and throw caution to the wind.

Breaking the pattern of pretending to ignore each other, Zorian turned away from the painting he was looking at to approach the statue Heather was examining.

Stepping up to her side Heather smoothly turned around, not even pretending to be surprised, and said, “When the sculptor made this statue, it was quite a shift from his usual practice of depicting historical, or religious figures. Instead he depicted some random, Belgian, soldier. I’m not sure if I agree with the move now looking back, but I do find interesting his commentary on the Greek’s age of bronze.”

Zorian paused in his initial plan. Something about the way she said it felt loaded, like she was testing him. His eyes flickered to the statue and noticed the mouth and eyes. Closed, but opening, like someone waking up. Zorian wondered if she thought him oblivious this whole time (he worried that even with his suspicions he was still oblivious).

Zorian tried to remember his cultural studies about the Age of Bronze. It caught his eye because it reminded him of the historical parallels between Bronze Age collapse and the Calamity in his home world. “Well if you’re going to depict a representation of a people, of course one would use a soldier,” he said. “Showing a historical figure waking it up, the gaining awareness might’ve been attributed to their unique genius. If you want to show a civilization of people, a whole demographic, gaining cultural awareness, you have to go with someone without notoriety.”

Heather smiled, like she did every time Zorian and her had these discussions. “I suppose you would.” Turning fully towards him Heather asked, “Now did you have something you wanted to talk to me about Mr. Kazinski?”

Zorian nodded. “Yes, I’d like to have a private discussion with you.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Oh?” she asked, as if she was surprised. But Zorian could tell with her stormy gray eyes that she was expecting this. “Well then if it’s as a serious a matter as you’re implying with your tone, then let’s find some place for these important matters.” Stepping away from the exhibits and into one of the side hallways, Heather opened a door obviously labeled “Employees Only,” and stepped into the office with Zorian behind.

“I don’t suppose you work here?” Zorian asked, since he’s seen her in many other buildings at all kinds of hours.

“I do not, however, the director of this gallery will allow me favors such as this,” she said. For some reason Zorian didn’t think the director allowed Heather to do what she wanted out of the goodness of his heart. She closed the door behind Zorian and asked, “So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

“Well, I wanted to talk about the things we’re hiding from each other and the offense to each other’s intellect.”

“Oh?” she said, with more emphasis and emotion than he’s ever heard from her. “Whatever could you mean?”

“I know about your mind shield for starters,” Zorian said.

“Mind . . . shield?” Heather asked, for the first time not knowing what he was talking about. Which, fair enough, their terminology might be different.

“This,” he said, and reached out to knock on it, a polite greeting amongst most human mind mages back home.

He brushed against the mind shield with more a bit more force, injecting some intention that would hopefully communicate to her past her defenses. When his empathy pushed towards the shield, he felt it shift, like jello.

The last thing he saw was a bright, gray light encompass his senses, like a divination being forced into his mind.

Zorian came to himself disoriented. His senses felt so fuzzy and distant that for a second he thought he was a simulacrum but, no, that couldn’t be right, right? He didn’t cast one, and whatever ‘Heather’ did to him couldn’t turn him into one, right? Examining his surroundings he found himself in a large metropolis. The buildings were made of marble, and had beautiful and colorful designs on all the marble he could see. The streets were large and orderly, with many benches, bus stops, and lanes for anyone to traverse it.

It was also completely empty. He tried to reach out for anyone with his mindsense, but when that failed, he realized a second thing about his situation.

He was his mindsense. When he looked down to his body he saw classic high class Ikosian garb that he didn’t feel with his distant senses. This was like an illusion, and somehow, the experience of who “Zorian” is, was transferred from his own physical body to a purely mental state. It was like a dream except Zorian knew he was awake.

“Isn’t this curious,” a voice from behind Zorian said.

Turning around Zorian saw a tall woman that towered over him. The top of her head was covered with an ornamental, golden helm. To her side she held a long golden spear, and a shield of the same material was strapped to her opposite arm. Contrasting her ancient armor and weapons she was wearing modern clothes. Before Zorian’s eyes they shifted from that of an academic, to a general, to a sculptor, and a number of outfits Zorian couldn’t parse with his limited cultural knowledge. But most striking of all were her stormy gray eyes. With her gaze Zorian knew he was looking at what “Heather” truly was.

(With Zorian more attuned to his own empathy, he learned a second thing by staring into her eyes. The all encompassing gray of her eyes were like a swirling thundercloud. Not releasing thunder, but containing within the plasma of thought manifested in powerful light. Zorian didn’t know what it meant, but he trusted his instincts in this case).

“A human with such an alignment to thought they could manifest within my domain. I knew you would be an interesting one Zorian Kazinski,” she said.

Okay, opening up by acknowledging him as an impressive human. Not exactly the best foot to start off with in Zorian’s opinion. But at least that clarified some things.

“It’s good to meet you, ‘Heather,’” Zorian said, putting emphasis on her alias. “I’m hoping this conversation can be much more productive for the both of us.”

She stared down at him in pure amusement, like he was a dog that performed a particularly well done trick. “Yes, I think it will be. As much as I love the back and forth I have over the months with you mortals, this might be a refreshing change of pace.”

“So, you said I was in your domain? I’m not sure how this might’ve happened, I just wanted to greet you with my empathy and-”

“Empathy?” she cut off sternly, as if she was annoyed by the word.

“Empathy, mind magic, openness. Basically my ability to mentally connect to and sense others,” Zorian explained. It seemed like a lot of his terminology wasn’t compatible with this world.

“Ah, yes, for a second I thought you meant that this ability was through primitive connection to emotions. But if what you mean encompasses all of the mental processes then that would explain what is going on,” she said, a lot of her annoyance vanishing. “To put it simply, this is a . . . mental construct that is connected to all my mortal avatars are connected to. And by reaching to me directly through the mind who ‘you’ are was pulled into here, like an asteroid being pulled towards a planet.”

Zorian didn’t miss how the comparison painted him as a tiny being in relation to her.

“Now that you asked me a question, it’s my turn. What are you?” she asked.

“Wait, I didn’t ask a question, I just was trying to figure out my presence here-” Zorian began before he was cut off.

“Do not try to lie to me, that was a question. And now it’s my turn.”

“Well if my thinking outloud was considered a question then you interrupting me to ask about my empathy is a question too, so it’s my turn,” Zorian said.

The woman twice his height and a grip on a spear that Zorian somehow knew was immune to magic frowned. Eventually however, she exhaled through her nose in a laugh (Zorian now noticed within her own mind he could still detect the being in front of her having a mind. What was she?). “And somehow the mortal is able to keep his bearings even during this. Very well, ask your question.”

Zorian was almost surprised she gave way so easily, he was almost expecting her to flex some power to get him to roll over. “I only noticed you ‘coincidentally’ running into me a little bit ago. What drew your attention to me?”

She nodded her head, like she approved of his question and would’ve asked the same. “Just as this is a place of the mind, I am aware of when there are mental deviations in the population. I noticed someone devouring through information of all complexities at a shocking pace. Elementary information, eclectic information, and even some cutting edge studies. I had to investigate. And when I realized you were a mortal, I had to learn more than what distant observation could tell me. Now then, we return to my question: what are you?”

The being in front of him was being surprisingly informative in her answers, painting a fuller picture than just the minimum response she could give. Zorian appreciated it, but he couldn’t return the favor fully. He still had some privacy he desired.

“I don’t suppose you mean my species, because I would think it’d be obvious,” he said.

“No, you are human as far as I can tell, but there’s something else about you. After all, no normal human could be here without their mind burning up.” She leaned closer to him. “Hmm, although you truly aren’t here are you? A piece of you is, but only the most that is needed for this conversation, and anything that might sense something that would overwhelm you is back in your body.”

Oh, so wherever he is, if Zorian got there whatever the “normal way” is, he’d be dead. That’s great. “Well, I’m a mage. One of my grandmothers or great grandmothers was a witch so my abilities could be attributed to some deal or ritual they did, but I don’t know. All I know is that I’m an empath,” he said.

“Of the crossroads?” “Heather” muttered to herself before she continued, “No, she would’ve let me know if I was observing her legacy. Something else then.” She turned her attention back to Zorian. “That might help me understand your skill, not just anyone with your powers could do this. There is something about you that tells me you’re more . . . attuned to my domain. So, let me make myself clear, what are you?”

Flashes of Zorian’s life came to the front of his mind. His countless years studying in practicing within the timeloop, both in libraries he broke into and the black rooms he took over. His crafting of golems, his invention of spell formula, his many apprenticeships. The way he desperately kept himself safe and private out of fear of what his enemies could do, he made truces with those that could be reasoned with, and he tricked who and what couldn’t be avoided.

The answers started spilling out of him without him able to stop. “I’m a student and researcher. I’m an inventor and craftsman. I’m a rogue tactician and independent diplomat. I’m too removed from everyone else after learning too much and I wish to teach them until my friends can stand by my side again,” his mouth said without his will.

“Heather” leaned back and smiled. “I see, it seems you’re very suited for this realm,” she said.

Meanwhile Zorian was hunched over with his fake body on the fake ground of this nomaterial realm. The only reason Zorian didn’t demand to ask “What was that?” was he didn’t want to waste a question. After regaining his breath he stood back up and asked. “What is it that you want from me?” he asked.

The being looked down at him for a long while before turned towards of the buildings they were standing by. “Come,” she said as she gestured.

Somehow with her legs being as long as Zorian was tall the two walked side by side until they entered a large building with pillars in front of the door and a large doom above. Inside Zorian could see a large workspace. To the side he saw shelves with dozens of rolled up papyrus scrolls, stacks of books, and a modern computer in front of it. Taking up the center of the space he saw multiple tables with rolled out blueprints, tools ordered to the sides, and a pedestal beyond them, that Zorian instinctively knew was to hold whatever was to be made here.

“I am many things, but unique to all of them is: I am a being of thought. I enjoy engaging with mortals that have a promising demeanor, those that prioritize their minds and pursue the expansion of their mental acuity. I like to collaborate with mortals in this plane of being, as most of my brethren do not properly see the value in thoughts nor wisdom, and many mortals have interesting ideas to add, despite their imperfections. You are the first mortal that came here without my aid, would you like to be the first mortal to make something with me Zorian?”

Zorian was not enthused with how vague she was being. “What is it exactly that we would be making?”

“Whatever we desire, whatever we find most valuable in the combination of our efforts. Usually when I make something with a mortal, it is with little conscious awareness on their part. They provide the mental fabric, and I try to weave it into whatever it is best suited for. However, since you at least have some capability in this space, you can work with me on this. Our options therefore are much more numerous.”

Zorian looked around with his fake eyes, with his mind sense, and he knew, deep in the core of his being, this was a once in a life time opportunity he wouldn’t get again. But he also suspected that was true of the woman in front of him as well. He couldn’t let himself be blinded by what she might want to do.

“I don’t want to make weapons,” he said.

“Anything can be used as a weapon if the wielder is smart enough,” she countered.

“Yes but there are tools that wielders prefer to use as weapons above any other purpose,” he said. After all, Zorian doubted a wraith bomb could be used peacefully.

She nodded. “So you want to make something with a primary purpose other than warfare,” she said. The woman (or at least, being with the form of a woman) didn’t seem to see her own point nor his as an argument. What she said and how she listened told Zorian she saw this as a discussion of goals more than an argument over semantics.

When she didn’t ask a follow up question Zorian said, “And I don’t want what we make to be used to conquer or overwrite the free will of the populace.” Zorian was well aware of the dangers of unrestrained mind magic.

“Everything influences the so called ‘free will’ of mortals,” she said. “Something that doesn’t influence others’ decisions is not worth making.”

Oh Zorian was prepared on this front. “Yes but taking over someone’s body, or overwriting their sense of reason, is very clearly not in line with any definition of free will. As long as people can have an unbroken chain of reasoning behind their decisions, where they can recognize each step of their decision process as truly being theirs, that will suffice for me.”

“You brought up the example of taking over someone’s body, I’m curious as to where you draw the line in influencing the body,” she said, only now did Zorian realize she was very specifically not asking questions.

Zorian looked up at the “being” he knew as Heather. She made no moves to attack or subjugate him, despite her having a clear advantage. She was confident and calm, not panicking from an intruder, nor taking Zorian’s concerns and priorities personally.

“How about this, my lady,” Zorian suppressed a cringe at the address. She was obviously someone or something of great power so he had to address her right, even if he felt so corny. “We are both reasonable actors, if we both promise to listen to one another on what we want, to negotiate and truly collaborate, I would be happy to work with you.”

She smiled. “Excellent,” her constantly shifting uniform landed on that of a sculptor. “Then let’s start with the base material before we move on to the details.”

And so Zorian and “Heather” worked. Zorian provided copies of memories and thoughts to serve as one part of the equation, and “Heather” combined it with something that were similar to thoughts, but were composed of a material/energy that Zorian couldn’t identify.

The two of them spent a lot of time discussing the difference between thought and information, intelligence and wisdom, logic and emotions. In those discussions Zorian learned a lot about the difference and connection of a soul and the mind. Some of the discussions were debates about values and fundamentally opposed perspectives, but most of them were not. Overtime the specific outline of what was being crafted slowly came into focus. Zorian couldn’t put it into words, but the closest way he could describe it was that he was adding to the magical understanding of the world. Parts of the system he recognized as being part of recognition itself, defining schemata in how the world works, physically, magically, and socially, and parsing extrapolation of the information faster than any divination spell or golem Zorian could make. Throughout the creation flaws, or maybe weaknesses, or maybe just accidental features would form, and the two of them would debate and plan on whether it was worth it to fix the “deviations” or if it was a natural byproduct and to leave it alone. They didn’t fix nearly as many as Zorian would’ve liked.

Time lost its meaning, Zorian forgot he had his own physical body outside of this space. All he was was an idea, a self-aware idea, but he was mental structure working in tandem with another, again very complex and powerful, but still a mental structure all the same. He felt like a novice racing to catch up to a master, stumbling and scrambling to make sure he was pulling his own weight in this. And by the end he felt soul-deep exhaustion and the feeling of accomplishment. He learned a lot during this work, and he wasn’t one hundred percent certain who this being he was working with was, but he knew she wouldn’t use what was being done against him.

Against him? But wait, why would he know that? Zorian still wasn’t sure who she was. He might’ve found her arguments agreeable, but he knew as well as anyone values did not dictate alliance or opposition. He didn’t even know her name. What did he-?

“And it seems your end of the arrangement is finished for now. I’ll let you know if you can help in the future. Who knows? You might even see the finished progress.”

Zorian found himself back within his own body, disoriented and nauseous. Memories of himself, or no, not himself, a fragment of himself? His arm snapped out to a nearby wall to keep himself standing.

“I’m impressed, truly. Even with your maintaining awareness within my domain, it’s an astounding feat you have fragments of memory outside of it. Maybe some of Heraclitus’ theories of divinity had a grain of truth within them,” the being in front of Zorian said.

“What did- who are you?” Zorian muttered.

“Out of respect of what we’ve done together, and what you endured, I will not spoonfeed you the answer. Can’t you guess?” she asked.

Zorian looked up at human eyes that hid an all encompassing mind and otherworldly-will (or maybe the will was worldly here, Zorian was less from here than she was after all). He didn’t know enough about mythologies or religion around here, he was still wrapping his head around the local monotheistic one that dominated the culture. He knew that she wasn’t an angel, she didn’t seem concerned with a mission granted by some higher being than herself. Whatever she was, her being was the top of the food chain in her mind. She didn’t seem concerned with tempting him, and had a vested interest in reason, civilization, and craft.

Zorian tried to absorb more of his own memories for additional details but found most to be a blur: most of his opinion and judgment fuzzy from a blanket of authority and trust he now realized was imposed on him. What was that? He didn’t even notice.

“You’re . . . you’re a goddess?” Zorian asked.

She just gave him a sad smile. “If you just asked the first question, you’d be right. But I suppose you still can’t identify me. Maybe you need to improve your education.” She sighed. “I suppose no man, and no mortal man at that, is perfect.”

Before Zorian could follow up on that, she walked past him and opened the office door. “I look forward to where your studies will take you, Zorian Kazinski,” she said, before she walked out.

Pulling himself together Zorian stepped out of the room to follow, but already, she disappeared into the crowd, and his mental sight of her mind was fading. He looked around fruitlessly before he gave up. He doubted he’d be able to track her down if she didn’t want him to.

After taking a moment to compose himself, he noticed a unified set of emotion from the crowd of people walking around him. Combinations of embarrassment, and disgust, and amusement permeated the people around him. Looking around with his physical eyes he could see most people either sneering at him, hiding laughs, or avoiding his gaze. It was only then that Zorian realized that he stumbled out of a solitary office with a woman disoriented and with messy clothes.

He’d say “Gods damn it” if it weren’t their fault.

Zorian was combing through theology book the next morning when Zach stumbled into the apartment. “Zorian! You would not believe who I slept with last night!” he said.

“Zach?” he said, jolting out of his studies. Huh, he didn’t even realize he didn’t come home last night. “Never mind that, there’s a problem we need to work on-”

“She was like a super model!” Zach exclaimed, ignoring Zorian’s comment. “Like holy shit I’ve never seen a woman so beautiful, and those are including that masked party where a bunch of other nobles got to craft their own looks with illusions. And you would not believe what she could do in bed-”

“Zach, I literally can’t care less. I ran into a goddess and this is an issue we need to get working on yesterday,” Zorian said.

“Now speaking of goddesses, we never exchanged names but holy shit were our preferences lined up-”

Zorian threw the theology book at Zach. “Zach I ran into something that was better at mind magic than me. She tricked me into taking some copies of my memories and beliefs and is using them for who knows what!” Zorian shouted.

Zach froze. “Ah,” he said, a lot of his enthusiasm draining away. “A literal goddess then?”

Zorian sighed. “I’m not certain. That’s what she told me, but I have no way to prove her right or wrong. She was at least able to manipulate divine energy.”

“Oh,” Zach said. He looked down at the ground for a moment. “So only a bit more important than my sex life?”

Zorian telekinetically threw the theology book from the ground back at Zach’s head.

Chapter Text

“Look, Zorian, I think we’re right that she was either Athena or Minerva,” Zach whined while he reclined in his chair. “Why do we have to keep combing through all this research?” He lazily gestured to the pile of books on his living room side table.

Zorian shook his head. “Just because she implied she was a goddess doesn’t mean she is, and even if she is it doesn’t mean she was telling the truth about everything,” he said. Zorian flipped through another page in the local mythology book. It was written in the same sensationalist and dismissive tone as the Ikosian church used to write about non-Ikos religions, but perhaps there could be a kernel of truth in there. “She could be misunderstood as a spirit by the general populace, or she could be a trickster pretending to have a different domain, or any number of things.”

Zach gave Zorian a searching look. “And you think if she is a trickster that trying to read every encyclopedia at midnight is going to help you see through her?”

And Zorian sighed, finally taking his eyes off of the texts in front of him to look at nothing. “I don’t think you get how much we have to prepare. Gods are . . . gods are . . .” Zorian trailed off, not able to finish that sentence. He took off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. It rarely helped when a headache was building but he did it out of habit anyway. “When facing against a primordial, the scope of it’s being went beyond anything we could’ve imagined before encountering it, and we only won through the divine restrictions it was under. To handle an interaction with true divinity? We need to prepare as much as possible. Forceful or careless actions from deities seldom leave humanity unscathed.”

Zorian could feel Zach’s combination of dismissal and genuine concern. Getting up from his chair Zach crossed the apartment to sit in the dining room chair by Zorian. He rested his hand on the back of Zorian’s chair.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. We have other leads than studying every religious text like we’re taking a history exam,” Zach said. “We know that there’s some type of magical person and monsters hiding in plain sight. We could ask them for clarifying details. I’m sure if a goddess talked to you so soon others would have a similar experience. We can find useful advice from them too I bet. Or, now follow me here, you could go to sleep instead of banging your head against this wall after midnight.”

Zorian just sat there, with his back hunched, his eyes closed, and breathed. Zach had his mindshield weakened just so Zorian could feel his feelings more strongly. He was relaxed, but he wasn’t carefree or confused; there was just enough realistic and healthy concern and worry (not just towards Zorian, but towards the things that Zorian was scared of too) that Zorian could relax in Zach’s own emotions, at least for a moment.

Zorian didn’t dare reach over to physically comfort himself, but he could indulge himself psychically.

Zach didn’t say anything.

Eventually Zorian opened his eyes, closed the books he was reading and said, “Tomorrow morning we’re talking to these non-humans.”

Zach groaned. “But tomorrow is my day off. Can’t we sleep in?”

As he stood up from his chair he raised an eyebrow. “You can sleep all you want. I was just doing you the courtesy of inviting you just in case a fight breaks out.”

“Ugggh, fine, you win,” Zach said. “You don’t have to twist my arm about it.” His tone betrayed by the splash of mirth emanating from him as the two headed to bed.

Zorian did his best to not throw the mythology textbook at the ground, and the only reason he succeeded was that he technically wasn’t allowed in this college library and didn’t want to mess with any civilian minds.

He was holed up in D’youville University, hunched over the few mythology/“classics” books available. Zorian wasn’t sure what he was expecting since apparently the school didn’t even have a degree focusing on the subject, but he didn’t want to break into the libraries with more people. After staying up too late Zorian was going to take it easy. But apparently he was taking it too easy because he wasn’t making much progress at all.

He needed a lead, he needed a next step forward, he needed something to get his blood pressure do-

[Hey Zorian,] Zach’s voice chirped out of the telepathic relay. [I found a kid lost in the park . . . and I need help? Please advise?]

Zorian cursed. Of course, this also alerted a nearby librarian of his hiding spot.

Before the man could say anything, Zorian got up and said, “You’re correct, I’m not a student. Now I’ll be on my way,” and walked past.

“H-hey, how did you get in? The library isn’t even open yet,” he said.

But Zorian just ignored him, left the building, and when he turned the corner dropped the illusory disguise he had on. He walked at a steady pace, not quite a jog, around the city block until he could cross the street to the nearby park he could sense Zach with the subtle magic beacon he was emitting.

The park itself was boring and nondescript. Very few features of note and was closer to a mansion’s front lawn than an actual park. Zorian guessed if it weren’t for the view of the lake and the bridge connecting the two countries it wouldn’t exist at all.

So with the Zach’s unique and awe-inspiring in power magic and the absolute lack of obstructing features, it was easy to see him and the child. The kid Zach was sitting on the bench with was a girl, Zorian just knew from his empathy, and was about five years in age, at least looking. The girl was trying to stifle her tears as she looked down at her legs. And surrounding her legs, like the substance around many monsters/nonhuman creatures Zorian’s seen was some type of illusory distortion, like mirage over hot tar. The outline of the illusion was visible, a pair of normal human legs, but instead what Zorian saw past that was one leg that was furred and had a hoof at the end, while the other leg was in a similar shape but made of metal. And the other discerning feature was that instead of bending backwards like the “organic” leg, it was bent at a sideways angle.

“Hey it’s okay, my friend is here and he’s going to get this sorted right away for you Ashley. He’s the smartest man I know and working together we’ll get this fixed right away.”

Ashley just sniffled. And as Zorian got closer he realized she was dripping wet. If she were in a better mood Zorian might ask to dry her while touching her for the first time, but he doubted she’d take that well at the moment.

“What’s going on?” Zorian asked as he got close enough to the pair, purposefully leaving it open ended as to who he was speaking to specifically.

“I— I—” Ashley started to say before she hunched over herself.

Zach piped up. “I looking for that event I told you about last night,” there was no event. Zorian suspected he was looking for obviously magical people like this girl to talk to, “and I met this little miss doing cartwheels.”

“I fell in,” Ashley said. “I— I didn’t see where I was going and fell into the lake and— and the water made my leg weaker, my bronze leg is still weak and when Mr. Zach pulled me out I noticed— I noticed—“ she let a few tears fall, “and now I don’t know what to do.” She looked back up at Zorian, eyelashes wet with both freshwater and tears. “Can you fix me?”

Zorian knelt down. “Let’s find out,” he said. “Can I touch your leg?” he asked, while already casting some divination spells that didn’t require touch.

Ashley nodded. “It doesn’t hurt, I just can’t have it broken forever!”

Touching the knee of the leg, Zorian started cycling through more divination spells. After a moment of touching it, Zorian was concerned this was too outside his experience. Even with his hand touching the metal, he was still getting “null” results. Zorian wasn’t sure if the metal was absorbing the divination magic or repelling it, but he might not be able to rely on magic to figure out what’s going on.

Zorian poked the leg with his finger, tapped it with a spell formula, and tried to scratch the surface. Nothing he did worked to affect the metal, even though the spell formula could cut the highest grade steel he could find (he’s done it multiple times).

“Have you had an injury like this before?” Zorian asked.

Ashley shook her head.

Zorian did his best to use telekinesis shaping to readjust the leg but the metal would not budge. Even when he cast a proper telekinesis spell the metal would only bend slightly before going back to how it was once he stopped applying pressure.

“We might have to return to the lake to fix this,” Zorian said.

Ashley gasped, pushing away from Zorian to the end of the bench. “No! It’s dangerous!”

Zorian resisted the urge to force calmness on Ashley with mind magic, he didn’t know what effect it would have on the nonhuman.

“You’re right. But it’s the best way we have to easily fix your leg,” Zorian said.

Ashley held onto her bent metal leg like Zorian was going to steal it.

Zach tapped his hand at the top of the bench, getting the scared child’s attention. “Hey, have you ever broken an arm? Or known someone that did?”

Ashley shook her head.

“Well, for most broken arms you have to set them properly so they can heal themselves the right way. Sometimes if the arms heal the wrong way you have to break them again to heal them right,” Zach said. “It seems like to me your leg healed pretty fast, which is good! That just means we need to bend it again for just a little bit and in a minute it’ll be good as new.”

Ashley didn’t seem exactly confident with that explanation but she wasn’t feeling the reflexive terror she was before.

“Would you like to see me break my arm? We can heal our limbs together,” Zach said.

Ashley flinched. “No! Please don’t break your arm!”

Zorian shared her feeling, but perhaps not her surprise. He raised an eyebrow at Zach for the offer.

Zach ignored the look. “Hey, I was just going to show you that doing this isn’t a big deal and I’d be willing to heal with you if it’d make you feel better. So what do you say Ashley, are you willing to sit with me by the edge of the lake?” He asked with an outstretched hand.

Ashley gave his hand a nervous look. “If you think I’ll be fine, okay. But I don’t know how I’m going to get there.”

Here, Zorian looked around to confirm no one else was paying them attention and cast an invisible floating disk spell. Before he could explain or say anything, Ashley’s eyes lit up and her posture shifted from hunched into to leaning forward.

“You’re witches! You can do magic!” she said. And before Zorian could stop her she leapt with her furred leg from the bench directly onto the disk, sitting at almost the same height she was before.

“. . . Yes, we are,” Zorian said. “And as someone that recognizes magic, can you use that illusion you have on your legs to make people think you’re walking with us?”

“You’re witches and can’t manipulate the mist?” Ashley asked, in the same tone one would use to ask about a fish that couldn’t breathe water. Zorian looked to Zach and started to reach for a telepathic connection to formulate how to respond when she continued, “I guess you are mortals so that makes sense. But don’t worry! I can do it.” And the translucent visage of human legs Zorian could constantly see changed from a sitting position to two upright and walking legs.

Zorian met Zach’s gaze aiming for his own. “Good then. Now let’s get you to the water and we can get you fixed up.” And the two started walking towards the lake with the disk carrying Ashley between them.

Telepathically to Zach, Zorian thought, [Why the hell did you offer to break your own arm for a little girl? Do you even know what she is?]

[I was trying to calm her down by showing her how okay it was to rebreak a limb. It’s fine, I didn’t push it when I realized how distressed it made her,] Zach sent back.

[I worry about you sometimes,] Zorian thought.

[Aw, only sometimes?]

Before Zorian could respond Ashley said, “Are you two married?”

The stumble in Zorian’s steps were in perfect sync with Zach’s own.

Ashley didn’t seem to notice and continued, “You both keep doing the sharing a look thing that reminds me of my friend Rebecca’s parents and how they look at each other.”

As Zorian processes that comment, eventually he got enough of his thoughts together to say, “No, we’re not married. Men can’t get married to each other.”

“Do you sleep in the same bed?” Ashley asked, just as innocently as before.

Zorian did not think about what happened last night. How both he and Zach had one last conversation and they both fell asleep mid talk. “We have our own beds,” he said instead.

Zach shot Zorian a smile. [What’s the matter Zorian? Too scared to tell a kid we have sleepovers all the time?]

[Why are you objecting? I thought you didn’t like people knowing how close we are?]

[I don’t like explaining it, but I’m not ashamed. We’re closer than best friends, I just don’t like when people assume.]

Before any more questions could be asked the group of three made it to the water and Zorian lowered the disk of force so that Ashley could sit on the edge of rocks leading into the water. But as Ashley’s hooved foot into the water she gasped and pulled it out. As the lake’s water splashed out Zorian could see clumps of fur follow the water.

Zach immediately creates another disk of force for her to rest her “biological” leg on. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “We just need to get your other leg down here. And as soon as it’s fixed we can get it out and you can find your mom.”

Ashley, with her other leg safe, nodded and wearily lowered her metal leg back to touching the water. And before Zorian’s eyes (under the effects of magesight specifically) the metal became more visible to divination magic and the shape started to deform. Both he and Zach were quick to use telekinesis to keep the shape (what Zorian assumed to be) straight.

“You know, when we were created, Gran- I mean, our goddess made it so that the magic that holds us together isn’t as good when we’re breaking the rules. Do you think that she’d be okay with me doing this?” Ashley asked.

Zorian resisted the urge to look ahead across the lake and instead look at Ashley, who was looking at both the two men she just met, waiting for an answer for her insecurity.

“Well, I think your Goddess gave you two functioning legs for a reason and if you needed to fix that then I don’t think she’d be mad,” Zorian said. “After all, she must have made you for a reason, right?”

Zach shot Zorian a look for his “innocent probe” at the end there. “Besides, you’re just being weakened a little bit, I think that’s proof that she knows things can’t be helped at times,” Zach said. [Don’t interrogate the child,] is what he thought to Zorian.

[Why ask me for help then?] Zorian sent back.

Ashley looked down at her legs, seeing how her leg was slowly being readjusted back to the right place with Zach and Zorian’s telekinesis steadily applying pressure. “Okay,” she said in a voice barely more than a whisper.

Eventually they got the leg shaped correctly for Ashley’s and Zorian’s standards both (Ashley initially complained it wasn’t curved backwards enough) and the girl did a stood up and went back to the park proper.

Zach and Zorian had to scramble to catch up, not expecting for her to move so easily (and actually ripping the metal leg out of their telekinetic hold, interrupting the discreet divinations Zorian was doing scanning the material now that it wasn’t repelling his mana).

“Ashley, are you sure your leg is fine now?” Zorian asked, chasing after her. “No pain? The shape is exactly how you want it?”

“I’m okay!” she said, doing a quick cartwheel to presumably prove it.

Zach grinned widely and offered a high five. “Hell yeah!” he said. “Now let’s go get you to your mom.”

Ashley gave the high five with a smile. “Yeah!” But after a moment her enthusiasm dimmed and she asked, “Um, I didn’t mean to say mom. She’s not my mom. She’s my older sister.”

Zach pretended like he wasn’t worried about Ashley’s comment, but Zorian knew better (and not just because of empathy). “Alright, well is she still working at the Peace Bridge like you told me?”

Ashley nodded. “I don’t know which booth she has to work at right now.”

“That’s fine, we can go to each one.”

Zorian wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about checking each booth separating the borders of a country. But he didn’t say anything and just followed his dumbass best friend and the child he was helping leave the park.

Luckily, they were only partway through checking each individual poll booth before Zorian realized he could use magic to figure out where Ashley’s sister was by looking for where divination couldn’t detect. Unfortunately that still meant that for three poll booth workers they had to deal with Zach going up to them on foot and asking if they knew this little girl. Hopefully nobody would call the cops on them, Zorian didn’t want to deal with them again.

In the breakroom of the nearby Bridge Authority building, Zorian Zach and Ashley walked in to hopefully find the little girl’s guardian. As soon as they did though, Ashley’s emotions shot into the sky and her anxiety vanished as she shouted, “Lisa!” and ran further in.

Inside the only woman seemed to be in her thirties. The illusion around her legs were more solid but Zorian could still see through what it was hiding. One leg was of that same metal material as Ashley’s, but with the design obviously stronger and more complicated. The other biological leg however had a much darker brown, almost black, color, unlike Ashley’s light shade.

“Ashley?” Lisa asked in surprise, with her eyes on Ashley until she collided into her, and then snapped to Zorian and Zach by the door.

“Hi there, are you Ashley’s guardian?” Zorian asked, trying to be casual and polite.

Lisa very specifically did not react, at least not physically. But Zorian could feel the worry increase from her. “Yes, I’m Lisa Robinson, Ashley is my,” she paused for a second, “baby sister. Who are you?”

“We’re Zach and Zorian,” Zach said. “We found Ashley injured after she fell into the lake by the park. After we did our best to patch her up we wanted to get her into safe hands.”

Lisa immediately switched her gaze from the two of them to Ashley wrapped around her torso. “You were hurt?” she asked. “What happened?” She pulled the girl in front of her so she could examine Ashley’s face and torso.

“My Celestial Bronze leg got bent! But these two witches helped get it all fixed up, see?” Ashley said. Stepping just a little away from Lisa to show off her limb.

Lisa froze. “Witches? In this day and age? And men at that?” she asked, ignoring Ashley now to look at Zach.

“Yeah, we were actually hoping to talk to you about that.”

With a friendly informant, and now at least a general idea of what was going on and promises to talk more indepth later, Zorian could actually experience relief. Sure, he was still going to work on learning more about this hidden Grecian society of monsters and divinities, but Zach didn’t feel obligated to work with him, and instead go back to work.

So Zorian was alone (well, as alone as he could be, he had a simulacrum ready nearby) and scouting the outside of a cave system he was pointed to by Lisa.

Deep in the cave he could hear the sounds of gruff and high pitched voices mingled together. He had to enhance his hearing a bit, but he was able to confirm, they were speaking the dialect of Greek Zorian had been studying. It didn’t prove anything but at least Lisa was telling the truth there.

He caught the words for “Gods,” “Titans,” and “War.” So maybe the Telekhines were covering the creation myth? Well, for humans it was a creation myth, for the monsters and spirits Zorian supposed it was a history of the current government.

Sending a signal to his simulacrum, Zorian backed away from the cave and teleported back to his apartment. Now he could observe how monsters might be schooled and get some foundational information.

It was only five minutes after opening an encyclopedia on Greek religion and culture that Zorian got sent a memory package and then felt his simulacrum destroyed in short order. Interestingly enough, the method to package the memories was to nest it within a single memory, forcing Zorian to interface with it first if he wanted to get the rest.

The memory was a five second snapshot of the simulacrum being faced with dog-faced, fish skinned children throwing fistfuls of lava at him. The only thought the simulacrum had in this moment was [I hate children.]

Reviewing the rest of the memory, Zorian noted that hiding visibly from monsters wasn’t enough, he would have to look at ways to hide his scent. Whether it was literal or how the monsters interpreted detecting his magic was a fun experiment he’d have to find out later.

The cyclops gave Zorian a dopey smile before he thumped his chest with his thumb. “I pretend to be a cop because nobody messes with me and everyone has to do what I say!”

Zorian frowned. “And how old are you Axel?”

“I’m six!” Axel said.

“And no other law enforcement official or human has suspected anything?”

Axel mouthed out the words “law enforcement” for a moment before saying, “Uh, some of the law people with the briefcases got angry sometimes, but no one thinks I’m not a cop.”

Zorian bit his lip. Well, he suspected as much, but it seemed like he was right to assume law enforcement would be of no help. But it was almost sad how right Zorian was.

“Um, you promised me some free monster donuts. Can we get those now?” Axel asked.

“I don’t get it, why would anyone care about this paper currency?” The teenage sphynx asked.

Zorian shrugged. “Easier for the government to mass produce. So I assume that you want something else in exchange for me to get my hands on some drachma?” he asked.

The sphynx grinned a wicked and sharp toothed smile. “How about you have to answer my riddles correctly? And if you don’t I get to eat you?”

Zorian pretended to think about it in fear, when really he was just confirming that he could still read her mind.

“I guess I have no other choice.”

“Excellent,” she said. “Now, how many bricks does it take to complete a brick building?”

Zorian blinked. He didn’t even bother checking her thoughts to make sure.

“One,” he said.

The sphynx’s cocky and malicious demeanor vanished as she slumped on the ground in despair. “Aw man,” she said. “I thought it was a clever when I came up with it.”

Zorian kind of felt bad here. He didn’t even bother to test out the more ‘sensible’ answers. But to be fair, he didn’t want to risk being eaten. “You know you could try things other than riddles. What about logic puzzles? Or trivia?” he asked.

The sphynx cocked her head in thought. “Yeah, but are they cool? Riddles might be old but at least they got that mystique going for them,” she mused. “And I can’t even use the classic ones because everyone knows them.”

Zorian shrugged. “I might be the wrong person to consult on that, but I know for a lot of people all it takes is commitment to respect you. Besides, it’s more fair to ask questions that have more definitive answers than ones that are too interpretative.”

The sphynx cocked her head in thought. “But why would I want to be fair?”

“Why give your meals the chance to answer a riddle at all if you don’t want to be fair?”

“Huh,” she said, looking down. “You make a good point, for a mortal.”

It was late in the afternoon, almost evening, that Zorian collapsed in a chair at the cafe. Lisa looked up at him curiously over the lip of her coffee cup.

“Did you wear yourself thin today by talking to literally every monster and spirit I recommended?” she asked.

Zorian shook his head. “No, the naiads over in the river demanded I entertained a merfolk child that was visiting while cleaning the river at the same time. And of course the kid made me chase him while I was picking up trash,” he said.

“You don’t smell like trash,” she said, after sniffing.

“Telekinesis may have not been physically taxing, but it was annoying trying to focus on that while at a full sprint at the same time,” he said, before pulling out the decanter he got from the naiads as ‘thanks’ and took a drink.

“So then, Witch, what are the results of your findings of the ‘mythological’ world?” Lisa asked, her celestial foot tapping.

“As far as I can tell? You’re much more ‘human’ then the spirits and monsters I have experience with.”

“You’re lucky I’m not the type to take insult with that.”

Zorian shook his head. “No you don’t get it. You might be more attuned with or care about a thing or place, but your demeanor and thought processes are so very similar to humans. Back in my homeland, spirits and other species so fundamentally thought differently than us it took a lot of effort to translate and understand. As far as I can tell, misunderstandings between us and you can be solved by getting a better grasp of the relationships you have with each other.”

Lisa looked down at her cup of coffee. “I can get why you think that,” she said, nodding her head. “And it’s kind of nice to not deal with mortals that are repulsed by difference. But you have to understand, however hard we try, we can’t understand the Gods.” She looked up to make eye contact. “Growing up knowing the Gods and in their domains mean we might understand them more, but the level of their power, the range of their domain and control puts a gap between us and them that we can’t cross. We can always get closer to certain Gods, or maybe to specific facets of them, but they, the Titans, and the Primordials are all too much for anyone to understand.”

Zorian looked out the window. Above the three story buildings he could see a gust of wind with a face race across the rooftops and out of sight. “Which one do you have a better understanding of?”

Lisa snorted. “Isn’t it obvious? Our Mother, the Goddess of Witchcraft and Crossroads,” she said, avoiding saying her name specifically. “The rest of the other Empousai are more akin to hunters and bounty hunters, deep in touch with The Dark Lady’s vengeance and rage. Meanwhile, Ashley and I are here because we’re serving her sense of duty to paths and the Mist. We help others from different pantheons enter and integrate when they cross the borders.”

Oh great, so Zorian would have to brush up on other faiths and mythologies for if he needed to go to a different country.

“So, are you willing to do those favors for us so that we can do those favors for you?” Lisa asked, her coffee set aside and her full attention on Zorian.

Zorian pretended to think about it for a long time, when he already made the decision long ago. “It’ll take me a long time to adapt to your spellcasting tradition, but yes I’d be willing to guide clearsighted children that are looking to be taught Witchcraft,” he said, purposefully not saying “any or all” to not shackle himself to too many students.

Lisa smiled. “Great, then in return for that, I’m able to answer three direct questions from you about the mythological world.”

“Do you know which Goddess I encountered?” he asked.

“You said she had gray eyes?” Lisa asked. “Lady Athena. Almost certainly,” she said.

“What other pantheons in America do I have to worry about?”

Here, Lisa’s face flickered, her features taking on a more ghastly form for a second before she returned to normal. “Besides us? The Egyptians and the Norse.”

Zorian nodded his head, filing away both the names and the seemingly magical reaction to the question.

“What’s the best way to make friends among the monsters and spirits here?”

“In Buffalo?” Lisa asked, picking her cup back up. “Be a Bills fan.”

[Ugh Zorian, do I really have to get into football? I’d rather just stick to soccer and hockey, I only just found my favorite teams,] Zach telepathically complained to Zorian as he was walking home.

[Then this should be simpler, I’m assigning you a favorite football team,] Zorian sent back as he tried his best to focus on the book on Egyptian religion. With the relays that only they share the two of them did their best to restrict telepathic conversation to outside of working hours, which meant the second both of them were off the clock they would start telepathically talking.

[You know how much I dislike being told what to do,] Zach grumbled.

[Yes, by everyone other than me, ] Zorian said with a smile. [ What was it you said after the one year anniversary of the invasion? ‘I’m so glad you joined the time loop so I had someone to lead the way after I fumbled around for so long?’]

[Alright alright I get it! But you better be watching the games with me if it’s so important,] Zach said.

[Oh don’t worry, at the very least you’ll have a simulacrum of me to watch with.]

[Hey!]

Zorian was about to laugh, but something threw him off. The exclamation from Zach was tinged with emotions he wasn’t expecting. Genuine surprise being one. And not the type he would emit by Zorian saying something out of character (because he truly wasn’t for Zorian to have said that) but the type of surprise tinged with panic and mixed with worry.

[Zach? What’s wrong?]

[Baby.]

[. . . What about a baby?]

[There’s a baby left on our doorstep!]

[What?]

[There’s. A baby. On our doorstep!]

Zorian furrowed his eyebrows. Even unfocused like he was his empathy still reached the edges of the block they were on, including all floors. He was planning on just dismissing the claim Zach was making while reaching out with his mindsense in the direction Zach pointed out, and then he felt it. Somehow sneaking past all his empathic abilities and wards, a telepathic mind shined like a new star not twenty feet away.

Dropping the book he was reading Zorian dashed to the door to open it, and be greeted both by Zach’s shocked face and the scrunched up face of a newborn baby in a golden cradle.

And as Zorian cast a divination spell, he found that the cradle wasn’t just colored gold, it actually was gold. Bending down he found a note made of papyrus. Written on it were the words,

“Her name is Sofia Kazinski,

-Your Partner in Her Construction”

“Shit,” Zorian swore in Ikosian.

“Well, I guess it’s not the worst thing that ‘Heather’ could’ve made,” Zach tried to joke.

“I’m not excited to have to change diapers,” Zorian said, feeling numb at the absurdity of it all. He couldn’t pawn this problem off to someone else, he couldn’t ignore this, he was a parent.

“Hey, I know you’re not exactly stoked, but can I just say, I’m a little jealous? I wish I could have my own kid,” Zach said, bitterness emanating like it always did when his status of an orphan came up.

“Hey, I won’t reject any offers to help with this one,” Zorian said.

Zach rolled his yes as he stepped back inside the apartment. “Of course, knowing you without my help you’d raise her to be an evil villain,” he said, trying to hide the joy he felt at the offer. “Now if you excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom before we deal with any crying or emergencies.”

While Zach walked past Zorian to head towards their shared bathroom, Zorian numbly picked up the (real!) golden cradle and carried it over to the kitchen, where he rested it on the table. Looking at the baby sleeping peacefully in the crib, Zorian couldn’t help but spiral. A thousand emergencies and contingencies flew through his mind. It wasn’t a real baby, it was a plant, it was a bargaining chip to get Zorian to worship the pantheon. But no matter what he thought of, he couldn’t sincerely believe any of it. All his soulsense and mind magic told him that it was just a normal baby.

However, when his mind magic tried to dig a little deeper into the baby’s mind, it did something. It wasn’t like a leap to defenses, but the fragments that constituted the baby’s mind wrapped around Zorian’s probe; like a little hand barely able to wrap around his finger. Like the baby sensed Zorian’s presence and saw it as a source of comfort, without fear, and reached to embrace him.

Zorian didn’t tear up, and resented the accusation.

“What!” Zach shouted from the bathroom.

Zorian immediately abandoned the baby to join Zach.

Inside the bathroom Zorian found Zach with a large dove perched on his shoulder. In the dove’s beak was a pearl the size of a billiard ball, and one of Zach’s hands were loosely wrapped around it. Zorian could barely see the symbol of a heart carved into the side facing him.

“So good news first, I think I got my wish of having a kid of my own,” Zach said numbly. And here Zorian’s gaze went down to Zach’s other arm, where a wet baby was cradled. Looking past Zach Zorian could see something akin to the cradle but more like a car seat floating in the filled bathtub. The bathtub was definitely empty five minutes ago when Zorian was in this room last.

Whatever emotions Zorian was feeling at the moment he made the purposeful decision to pack away and shove deep down. He confirmed the baby existed with his mindsense again (which what good did it mean when apparently both were snuck in under his watch?), and looked back up at Zach. “I have my suspicions, but let’s go consult some texts to make sure this baby is from who is being suggested with these . . . quite obvious symbols.”

“Yeah . . . yeah okay,” Zach said, sounding as shocked and numbed as Zorian. “That’s a good idea.”

“So based on the dates and what I remember, I’m pretty sure it was when I had that one night stand with Calla. And her being Aphrodite would make sense with some of the comments she said about exes and husbands,” Zach said.

Zorian was just grateful he didn’t regale him on the details of the sexual encounter a seventh time, but that just might’ve been because there were two babies and Zach was trying to act more responsible.

He was just about to respond when he felt a mind approach the front door of their apartment. It was Ashley. He got to the door to greet her just in time for the knock. Opening the door he saw the little empousa girl standing on their doormat with a bundle of books in her arms.

“Hi Mr. Zorian! Hi Mr. Zach! Mo— I mean my sister sent me over to give you some introduction to witchcraft books. She said you were going to help some clearsighted mortals!” Ashley said. As Zorian reached down to take the books the girl slipped past him into the apartment. “While I’m here can I have whatever dinner you’re making? It smells grea— oh.” She froze in the living room. “I didn’t know you had demigod kids,” she said, a bit sheepish. “Sorry.”

Zorian and Zach shared a look.

Zach forced out a laugh. “Yeah well, that makes the three of us.”