Full of Pudding.

Cold sweat coated me as I got out of bed. Those memories... No, I need to thing of something else. Logic, what's on the list?

The familiar snooty voice of Logic rings out in my mind; accompanied by the sounds of a piano being restrung. "Ah, well. We do have quite a bit to discuss with our allies. The guardian spirits, and magic as a whole. Although, a line of questioning I wish not to follow is that of Cilla's parentage; that Maxwell, he's too similar for it to be a coincidence."

"There are no coincidences." I say aloud, reminding my mind's group of fractured persons of the words of wisdom given by Ihsrom.

"That **** dude was a real laugh." Urge says; I hear the sloshing of a drink in someone's hand along his voice. "Also, I think we ask her. Worst case scenario, she doesn't wanna say. Best case scenario; she talks, gets sad and thirsty, and heads to a nearby bar..."

And we follow her to get a drink. Of course. Urge, why are you like this?

"Depression."

Understandable.

I look around the guest room; as I didn't have the chance to do so before passing out. The furniture all seems handmade, and of well above average quality. It's all made of the same kinds of wood as is used for housing; possibly excess amounts from shipments that is then sold off to the citizenry for this exact purpose. The walls, as Cilla had mentioned last night, were stone; each slab of dense rock having been seemingly melted together for an solid, airtight structure. The flooring, waxed wood boards, had a fine rug drapped over a majority of its surface. The rug, unlike the other additions, seemed to have been entirely imported, with no work from that Pops character. There are two windows, one to the right of the bed I was in, and one on the wall towards the bed's footrest; with the door being oppisite of the second window. From this, I can gather that my room is one of the corners of the building. The windows themselves are of simple glass, which has been cleaned often given it's fragrent smell, and lack of any filth. Besides a dresser, wooden boxes which hold unknown things, and the sidetable next to the bed, there are only two other objects of interest. Another of those orbs; which seems to regulate the tempetrue and humidity of the room, and a strangely designed weapon, mounted on the wall.

The weapon was much like a smaller version of the scythe I had seen be used by both Mortigan and her father; a one handed sort of weapon. Straight blade emerges from the top of the handle, going sideways; a solid eleven inch implement of ****. At the grips rear, were twin chains; which extended out a great length; the display demonstrated this by having it spiral around the weapons main body. At the end of each of the two chains were braces, and from their size, they seem to have veen ment to be strapped to the bicep.

This weapon, something about it... I like it.

That settles it for what I'm going to try to learn next. I want to know what this type of weapon is called, how to use it...

And how to get one...

I leave the room, only to bump into Cilla; for once, without her cloak. The difference that cloak made in terms of intimidation factor was huge, as before, while small, Cilla within the cloak was still a sort of imposing figure of authority on all knowledge she shared with us. Now she simply looks like a little, fuzzy, and cute one-eyed girl.

"Oh!" She exclaims. "Don't scare me like that. I haven't had my tea yet."

I quickly blurt out. "Sorry!" trying my best not to lead on that I've learned anything about her in the night before.

It, well. It looked very suspicious. Cilla eyes me up and down as I try to creak past her. While she's silent, I can tell, she knows something is up.

I don't know how I know that she knows that I know something, but I know...

"Awful sentence structure."

"I thought we were having a stroke, you ok dude?"

"It's her heartbeat. You can infer so much in this world from the beat of a heart."

Oh you hush, Thumpty Dumpty... oh, what's that a reference to?

Before Logic can scream the answer at me, I find myself in the main room above the workshop; the smell of something simply amazing finding its way into my shnoz. As my stomach begins to grumble, I spot Ashes, in sleepwear, standing hungrily at another door; the place where that heavenly smell is coming from.

"Ooo, I can't bloody wait. That bacon is going straight in my mouth." She mutters under her breath; only being heard by me because of my absurd hearing.

I take a seat on a nearby wooden stool, with Logic getting uppity, saying. "Speaking of hearing, you missed a very important detail last night on those Dark Goddesses, Tenekura, and Zetra."

What, that they have belly buttons?

"No. Their ears. They were both pointed, and twitched constantly when the images moved; and both of them are similiar to us, a fairy, and a dragon. Maybe we've been given a 'double whammy' of keen hearing?" As Logic finishes his sentence, I hear the closing of a piano's casing; has he finished re-stringing it?

Huh, I should ask Cilla about that. I rub my ears, trying see...

"Oh~ YEAH!" Urge yells; myself having just doubled over and fallen from the chair as a powerful, pleasurable, tingling sensation suddenly spreads throughout my whole body.

Sensitive, VERY sensitive!

"Keep that one in mind when we need some... alone time..." Says Urge, stifling laughter.

"Are you alright?" Ashes asks. "Monster, right?"

I nod, standing up. "Sorry about that, I just lost my balance is all."

Just as I get up, Gabriella, Cilla, and Slag have come into the main room; with the voice of Pop echoing from what I now presume to be their kitchen. "Breakfast is ready!"

We all head to the kitchen, which nearly overwhelms my sense of smell with its splendor. Lain out before us on a large, once again handcrafted, table, there are seven plates, heavy with food. I remember some of the food from... something? A memory? Either way; there is toast with butter, scrambled eggs, the previously mentioned bacon, and each plate has a single muffin. Next to each meal were large mugs; like what I had drank from yesterday, but now filled with a sweet, tangy smelling juice of some sort.

Wait, seven plates? But there's only six people here...

A flash of light and feathers answers my question, as Ariel appears.

Gabriella turns to a slightly dumbfounded Ashes, saying. "See, I told you he would show up."

"Hi Ariel." I say to the deity, holding out a hand to shake.

Ignoring my hand, he simply stares at Pops, saying. "Captain Pyre? Man, small world!"

He goes over, and newly named Captain Pyre shakes his hand, saying in a joking tone. "Recognize me do you? Why, I thought the Chosen were too good for that."

"Are you kidding me? You were awesome in the Battle for the Ramzu Desert; when that orc chief was like 'haha! I've got you now!' And gashed your throat, and you smashed him in the face with your hammer! Good times. How's the old throat, these days?" Ariel and this Pops man continue reminiscing on and on, with me being horribly confused.

"Wow, he wasn't lying in those bedtime stories... He really fought alongside the Chosen." Ashes says.

Slag makes multiple joyous hand sighs at his sister, forcing her to respond. "Yeah yeah, you never doubted for a second."

I decided to just go to a seat at the table; one away from the chaos, I was about to eat some of that bacon when Logic said. "Hold on, they may have some traditions before they eat. We don't want to be rude, do we?"

Good point... oh thank the gods, Ariel and Pops Pyre finished chatting it up.

Every but Ariel took their seat, and Pops motioned everyone downwards, and all except I and Ariel closed out eyes.

He began to pray. "Thank you, Gods above, for my family, my home, and my life. Without you, I would be lost. With you, I am whole. For Maiyo, my life. For Ardor, my harvest. For Pyurus, my innocence. For Machae, my dreams. For Illustu, my light. For Ariel, his sacrifice. For Tailum, my honor. For Ihsrom, our Ruyanei."

With that, the prayer finished; and the others began to eat.

I too began to eat; committing various breakfast war crimes to my meal as I tore into the toast, eggs, and bacon, the muffing looking on in horror.

Ariel took the empty seat next to me as; asking in a hushed tone. "So, Monster. Second day here and you've met my boss. How was it?"

I nod, saying. "He was nice. He and Mortigan explained the Pantheon to me while I slept."

Cilla, who was in the other seat next to me, exclaimed angrily to herself. "Oh damn it, that was top of my list of things to teach you... wait, you met WHO?!"

A detailing of last nights encounter with Mortigan and Ihsrom is given to my companions; although I keep out two parts. Firstly, I don't dare speak of Maxwell; leaving any mention of him out of my story. Second, I make sure not to mention Mortigan's little accident with the shirtless Ariel image.

Pops, who had been keeping quite up until now during breakfast, asks. "So, Ariel. I assume you are accompanying your sister so she may become your Emissary, over in Hoctin, the holy city?"

Ariel chokes slightly on his drink, saying. "Oh, yeah. It's more than that. Monster over here wants to find someone, and the easiest, quickest way there would be one of Hoctin's airships. Plus, it'll be nice to see Elmeria."

Ihsrom said Ariel's plan was more in his interest. He never mentioned this 'Emissary' thing before. That must be why.

"What's an Emissary?" I ask.

Cilla excitedly shuffles in her seat, calms herself, and evenly says. "Emissaries, Avatars, Channelers of the Divine. Through the Alm of a God, and their unending faith, they can manifest their Patron without the usual limitations of their manifestations; such as the one dining with us."

"Yeah, I'm kinda... at like bunch of places right now. I'm in my seat at the council, a big ol' party over in New Grimhold, an expedition into the ruins of Krow, and so on. I will say, most of my focus is here, for obvious reasons." He finishes, looking to his sister.

Continuing, Cilla says. "Remember that Heart of Khalthosh in Tomo? That was the result of two Emissaries doing battle. Gods, usually, are prevented from killing each other. Battle via Emissaries are the exception."

I nod, too busy shoving food in my mouth to answer with words.

"Well, least I got to explain that." Cilla says, woe in her tone.

Breakfast continues until each person finishes their plate. Gabriella having, gotten full halfway through, allowed me to finish off the rest of her plate, leaving me incredibly full.

Before everyone leaves the kitchen, Ashes asks. "So, you guys are headed to Hoctin? That's at least a months travel by foot... would you guys be willing to..."

Slag starts signing angrily at his sister, her only response being. "Oh come on! Why not!?"

He crosses his arms, but his father stands between them, looking to Ashes with a neutral gaze. "You wish to accompany them, yes?"

She lowers her head and nods; and her father puts his hand on her shoulder. "I will give it some thought. While I haven't, and still don't want you going out there in this world by yourself; this is a bit different. You would be with people who can clearly defend themselves. An active operative of a Runacathy, a soon-to-be Emissary, and..."

He eyes me up and down, asking. "An assassin of some sort, correct? A bit of ranger, too?"

"How did you know?" I ask.

"Easy." He responds, smiling gently. "You may not be aware of this, but you prefer to stand near exits, shadows, and cover. You also seem to soak information like a sponge. A deadly combination; I must say."

He turns back to his daughter. "Hmm... Yes, I will give it thought. I'll have an answer by about time for supper; but you would need their permission to go, as well. That, and your notice to the guard."

Near instantly turning to Me, Gabbie, and Cilla; Ashes gives us an pleading look that would put a starving puppy to shame.

"The company would be nice." Gabriella says to us.

I just shrug, saying. "As long as we get to Hoctin quickly."

Cilla however, asks questions. "What skills do you have, be they physical or magical?"

Ashes replies with. "Well, I'm a fighter. I've been swinging swords around since I was a little girl; Pops taught me how to use one properly. I'm a good cook, I mean, look who raised me."

She points to her father. That food was amazing, and if she can do even half as well...

She continues. "I've been in the guard for three years, and I've seen battle. I have experience with repairing a ton of different forms of equipment from helping Pops with the shop... and... well. I've been training to go out and see the world for as long as I can remember!"

Cilla thinks to herself, then asks. "What kind of equipment would you bring with you?"

Ashes grabs our fuzzy friend by the waist, picks her up, over her shoulder, and bolts out of the room.

Um... I guess I'll follow the sounds of Cilla saying. "Put me down you dolt!" over and over.

I do so, walking at a slow pace towards where the galloping guard took our uncloaked companion. The two stand in a room I presume to be Ashes bedroom; which happens to be the room opposite the one I stayed in last night.

Before I've seen either of the two, I hear Ashes saying. "I've been working on this armor for YEARS! The shield, sword, and helmet are from my Mom..."

She seems to have converted her own bedroom into a small version of her father's workshop; with tools scattered about all over the place. Leather armor straps dangle from her bedframe, chainmail is tucked in boxes in the corner. Where a dresser should be, there is instead a large work table. In another corner of this mess, a wooden manikin stands, strapped with a set of full bodyarmor. Leather, studded with metal; lain on top of chainmail. The materials used seem to be scrap from her father's own work; pieces that had broken or waste material, recycled into usable material once more; then worked into this armor.

Stacked high near her bed are books I can't read; currently being reorganized by Cilla; who seems to be having some sort of mess driven panic attack.

"You didn't even organize them alphabetically..." She mutters.

Once she finishes, sitting on Ashes bed, Cilla sighs, saying. "So, you're an artisan, and a warrior... I need my things to write this down."

I pluck a feather from my wings, grabbing a nearby piece of clean paper that sits alongside blueprints; an inkwell too. I hand these to Cilla, who only just now see's my entrance.

"May I?" Cilla asks, pointing to the paper and ink.

"Oh, sure!" Ashes says; clearly trying to get on her good side.

After using a piece of sharp scrap on the ground to prep the feather for use, Cilla scratches down her list of things; things I still can't read. After looking over the paper many times, she speaks.

"Alright... I agree to allowing you to accompany us."