Freya seldom felt conflicted about anything; if she saw something she wanted, she took it. People always tried to make love complicated, but the Goddess of Beauty generally felt that such reservations would pollute the purity of their precious emotions. Freya's view was simple: anyone who stood between those she loved and the goddess herself would either move from her path or be crushed underfoot.
Recently, however, she'd been forced to acknowledge that love could be complicated after all; true love sometimes meant keeping her distance and watching from afar. Within the span of a single week, she'd seen one mortal she'd be willing to kill for and another she'd be willing to
die for. Only one could be claimed immediately.
The first mortal possessed not one, but
two souls, both of which exerted an increasing amount of influence on their counterpart as time went on. One soul was silver-blue and shone like an alien star, its glittering crystal form endlessly shifting and folding inward in a manner Freya's eyes couldn't track no matter how hard she tried. Its linked counterpart, a more normal human soul, may once have been a brilliant crimson. No longer; life had dulled it to a rusty red. Both souls possessed ugly grey streaks that had only recently begun to fade; they would take some time to reach a level Freya could tolerate without wanting to break something. They should've been truly beautiful, but they had been
marred.
The truly fascinating part only revealed itself in the interactions between the two. The crystalline soul was gradually growing human colors of its own and seemed all the brighter for it. Meanwhile, parts of the human soul were recovering their former crimson coloration. Other portions assumed the shifting form and colors of its counterpart, reflecting the light of those nearby while gradually surpassing even the radiance it had once possessed. A web of shifting crimson tendrils wrapped around both souls, deliberately and discreetly polishing specific sections until they blazed with light.
Their paired souls were unlike anything Freya had ever seen before and she wanted them so much it
hurt. She wanted to see how the children would grow and influence one another in the future. She wished to witness how they changed from day to day and how their wandering influenced their surroundings. She wanted to personally nurture their growth and see them become heroes like the world had never before seen
or die trying. And most of all, she wanted them to be
hers.
One issue had stayed her hand, and as she hesitated, more problems revealed themselves. The unsightly grey streaks could very well persist under her care; another would need to heal them before Freya could claim the children. Second, the scars slighting their beauty may well have been reflected in their opinion of themselves; being approached by the Goddess of Beauty may do more harm than good. Third, her love and affection may not even be accepted. The human soul seemed slightly distant and the crystalline soul was at once unique and inscrutable; what guarantee did she have that her Divine Charm would successfully attract both? Mortals so often misinterpreted matters when they saw the effects of Freya's influence without experiencing it for themselves.
And oh, how her patience had been rewarded! The artificial, cat-like
'Friends' boasted vibrant green souls untainted by anything save affectionate devotion to their mistresses. They knew their place in life and were more than happy to fulfill it. Ishtar, too, had overstepped and been crippled before Freya could even properly retaliate for the insult dealt to her beloved. Freya wholly intended to repay both those boons soon, if rather discreetly. Being too blatant would prematurely reveal her interest and one should never learn of the Goddess of Beauty from second-hand information. Nobody even approached understanding until they'd personally met Freya.
Besides, it wasn't as though the goddess was left without love while she waited; she still adored every last member of her Familia, including the greatest soul she'd ever seen in her long existence. That one, she would gladly follow to Heaven and claim upon his eventual death.
Bell Cranel's soul was bright, clear, and pure, unmarred by the world and stubbornly unwilling to accept such marks. He wanted to be as one of the heroes of old and would gladly undertake whatever harsh training was necessary for him to reach that goal. Even his objective of acquiring a harem — a goal that hadn't vanished when he'd joined Freya's Familia, she was amused to find — only existed because he thought all true heroes had them. It might even be possible for him; he
was attractive enough, if in a rather girlish way, and his white hair was suitably eye-catching. Between his goals and his appearance, Freya regularly had to resist the slight urge to give him reflective or white armor just to fit the appropriate knight stereotypes. She was much too dignified for such things.
The infuriating part was how
slowly Bell's determination was letting him grow. Oh, it was a quick pace by the standards of normal adventurers, but Freya
knew he could do far better with the right motivation. She could see it in his soul. The Queens Administrator could afford a healthy nudge, too; it was clear they were trying to avoid attention when they should be wholeheartedly embracing it. It would be nothing less than a travesty for three unique souls to have their splendor concealed among the mediocre masses. They deserved to be
more. They
would be more if Freya had anything to say about it.
"Ottar, love, would you be so kind as to send for your newest pupil? I believe it's time Bell played with others his own age."
If the Queens Administrator wouldn't push themselves, Freya would simply need to do that for them.
~ ~ ~
Aiz was really wishing Queen Administrator would listen to her and
slow down. They'd made it all the way to the sixth floor before QA's accuracy failed her; the War Shadows found there were blinded by the loss of their eyes, but not killed by them. They were still more than capable of lunging at suspicious sounds with speed that wouldn't be matched for several more floors.
Like countless generations before her, Queen Administrator wanted to delve ever deeper despite this flaw. Aiz couldn't entirely blame her; the dagger-like fingers of War Shadows couldn't even cut the
fur of Administrator's Friends, let alone their skin. The attacks of Killer Ants on the seventh floor might be significantly stronger than even their War Shadow predecessors, but they clearly wouldn't be enough to do more than damage the Friends.
(She wanted one. If this was what they were like after a backpack full of treats and miscellaneous other monsters, how powerful would one become with a steady diet provided by Aiz?)
"I want to observe and dissect the monsters on the seventh floor," Queen Administrator insisted.
"I am deeply interested in the reported healing and poison of the fliers introduced there. The knowledge will be useful. Sir Kara, don't eat that; we don't know what it's been."
Sir Kara stopped sniffing at the War Shadow's misty corpse and obediently trotted back to his owner.
"Administrator," Aiz said patiently. "This is your first real day of adventuring. We agreed to wait until you could handle enemy squads on your own. You can't yet do the sixth floor; we shouldn't continue."
"Excluding their Magic Stones, War Shadows don't appear to have vitals," the monarch whined.
"Additionally, that condition was explicitly placed upon the first floor and merely expanded to the other floors by implication. My Friends could continue even if I cannot."
It was far from the first time Aiz had such an argument with an acquaintance or Familia member. Few listened, but some still made it out okay. Queen Administrator wouldn't be part of that group in the long run, not as she currently was. Stronger foes should only be fought when you needed the lessons from them; as it stood, Queen Administrator could learn the same techniques in a safer environment. Skipping ahead wouldn't do her any favors. Explaining that would probably mean a long speech, Aiz knew, and that meant less time to consider her words than she'd prefer.
"Doing something foolish 'just for now' is a compromise you never stop making," Aiz sighed. "Many monsters have weaknesses. Ones leading to instant death aren't nearly as common. Your accuracy will help, but the further down you go, the more vitality foes possess. You're relying on your ability to kill them before they can surround you. That won't work forever; we've already transitioned to Monster House floors and the seventh floor adds swarming foes. You need to learn to defend as well as attack. What if you'd faced the Monster Mansion as you are now?"
"My Friends would have decimated them without any risk to myself," Queen Administrator claimed.
"One for defense, one for offense; the enemy would never manage to close within melee range of me.
Aiz had to admit that was probably true. One Friend could bodily wrap themselves around Administrator while its counterpart crushed their enemies underfoot. That seemed to be their favorite combat strategy, actually.
(Did they wrap around their kittens like that, too? Aiz wanted to see!)
"And if your Friends weren't with you?" Aiz asked.
Queen Administrator looked at her teacher as though she'd begun speaking a foreign language. It was a fair reaction, Aiz had to admit. Even in friendly territory, she always kept at least one Friend around to guard her.
"That will not happen," Administrator stated matter-of-factly.
"I take them everywhere I go."
Aiz decided to switch tactics. Appealing to independence clearly wasn't going anywhere.
"And something they
can't guard you from?" she persisted. "Even veteran adventurers avoid the Goliath's attacks, and I doubt they can safely carry you in their teeth. Their teeth would tear right through your clothes."
Queen Administrator hesitated and frowned. Aiz made a snap decision to capitalize on the doubt while she still could.
"You need to learn to dodge and parry properly, Administrator. It isn't unheard of for criminals to lead hordes of monsters to those fighting the Goliath; if that happens, you'll be surrounded and still fighting a foe you need to avoid. Learn the basic lessons first,
then pursue challenges."
Queen Administrator finally developed a dissatisfied frown. Aiz considered that a good sign.
"Understood. However, I still wish to visit the seventh floor tonight. The terrestrial foes are irrelevant; I am only interested in the healing and toxic moths. I will return to the fourth floor once I am satisfied with what I've learned from them."
Aiz considered the offer. She had enough Moth Antidotes to deal with the poison and it would be good for Administrator to learn just how fond the Dungeon was of indirect attacks. It was a little petty, but Aiz even felt like killing everything else herself just so Administrator could
only watch the moths.
"Very well," Aiz agreed. "But you're learning how to collect their drops; no eating them. Their wings are valuable. And you're collecting the knives and Magic Stones of these War Shadows before we go, too."
"Understood."
Apparently, Administrator really hadn't been lying about wanting to observe the moths. Her only request was to leave three Killer Ants and three Needle Rabbits partly alive so she could see the moths' healing in action. Aiz felt a little bad for keeping them so close to death like that, but not
too bad. They'd killed too many of her fellow adventurers and remained too unrepentantly murderous for true guilt. Plus, the wounded Killer Ants kept calling allies from the surrounding area and walls; Aiz
knew Administrator was intelligent enough to understand the implications.
Apart from that, Administrator was doing a far better job of ignoring the floating particles of poison than grown men thrice her size. It was still visibly progressing, but at a pace comparable to level twos new to the Development Ability known as Abnormal Resistance. It took the better part of a minute for Administrator to even begin coughing when nearly everyone else would've done so the moment the poison entered their throat. It
had to hurt, but the monarch didn't complain.
Administrator's Friends didn't seem to notice in the first place. Aiz had even spotted Sir Kara sticking out his tongue to catch extra floating clumps of poison, something Aiz had almost worried over before remembering their diet. Poison was just another kind of corruption, she supposed.
(And the revelation of their immunity made her want to watch a kitten play in the falling poison like it was snow.)
Queen Administrator eventually nodded to herself, appearing oddly pleased by several minutes of doing nothing but inhaling painful toxins and watching falling blue powder heal her enemies upon contact with them. At least her smile was nice.
"You may execute them now, Aiz," Administrator half-ordered before pointing toward the fliers.
"Designate enemy support species 'Blue Moth;' high priority. Additional orders: preserve wings at medium priority."
The monarch began to repeat the treatment for the Purple Moths, but her teacher was no longer paying attention. Rather than try to leap at the flying monsters like Aiz had expected, the hairs on Sir Kara's tail stood on end as though he were a particularly terrified or angry house-cat. The following actions demonstrated that terror had nothing to do with it.
As Aiz watched, the Friend swiped his tail toward the flying moths and launched a barrage of stiff, spike-like hairs in a wide arc. Astonishingly enough, it didn't seem to be any sort of scattershot barrage; despite launching only one volley, the wings of the moths were left completely untouched. The accuracy of Administrator's friends apparently exceeded even their mistress; Aiz had never seen Administrator throw more than a single projectile at a time. Sir Kara launched almost three dozen spread across a fifth as many foes and hit only the main bodies of foes with each and every one.
As the corpses of the moths dropped unceremoniously to the stone below and Aiz belatedly finished off the wounded terrestrial monsters, the teenage girl had but a single thought on her mind: she wanted a Friend of her own so very,
very much! She'd even settle for a fully-grown one or a
dog at this point!
(Although, any possible dog-Friends might not appreciate being used as a third choice. She didn't dislike them or anything! Aiz just didn't think always being covered in giant doggie drool was something she'd enjoy. Administrator's cat-Friends were still loyal and cute and loving and
effective without needing to stop them from showing their love and loyalty.)
~ ~ ~
Dreamer mostly ignored Clotho's ongoing efforts to create a full-sized, demonstrative imitation of her workshop within the dream. Dreamer wanted to have at least one gift — maybe more — ready for her new smol sister when the other girl ultimately joined the family. But there was one
specific gift she wanted to grant: a vastly better version of the widespread blessing she'd considered giving essential non-combatants
(like Guild members) to encourage more civil servants than Orario currently possessed. Despite the societal benefits, Lachesis had warned Dreamer not to go through with such an action; she'd apparently already been too blatant as of late. That didn't mean the work would go to waste, though.
Dreamer had decided to switch from seeing family trees to something closer to a section of forest, albeit one that seemed oddly intent on prioritizing a spring-fed lake of wine instead of sunlight. New-sister was one of the few exceptions and the only one who seemed to be in such a poor state; the girl's attempts to avoid the lake had forced her to grow not merely in barren soil, but through solid rock. Still, she'd stubbornly broken the stone and laid down roots despite the overhead canopy intent on spitefully growing over her just because it could.
It was a bit of work to customize the new skill for New-sister's stubbornly growing sapling, yet Aiz's skill had been harder. Dreamer just couldn't decide if she wanted to call New-sister's gift
Terpsichorus or something more subtle. Other Familia members would probably benefit from similar blessings, too, and wouldn't relative consistency hint toward it being the Spirit's blessing that it kinda was? That could help hide Dreamer's further actions, right?
Dreamer should really toss in a resistance to mind-affecting stuff, too. Given how fanatically New-sister was growing to avoid the underground streams of wine that occasionally skirted by her roots, it shouldn't take more than a handful of minutes to include. Unlike Lachesis, it was clear that New-sister
really loathed the stuff.
...Dreamer should probably just hide that whole whole section of woods before the Fate of the Past next visited. The goddess might accidentally drown herself if left unsupervised.
~ ~ ~
Hestia lounged atop a pile of pillows in her rented church's public area, idly picking at a plate of potato croquettes with one hand while the other held a mug of steaming tea. She'd had another three visitors since her child had left, but none of them seemed like the sort of people Administrator would get along with. That wasn't to say they were
bad and Hestia would've been happy to accept them had she been on her own, but her conscious child seemed to have a thing against merely average people. The goddess didn't want the child to bully those Administrator seemed inadequate; her arrogance was often adorable, but there were definitely times where it could pose problems. Hestia would need to work on that.
Without her day job or the inclination to risk Orario's streets to buy new books, Hestia was able to try what she (ironically) hadn't gotten to do very much since leaving Heaven and not at all since Hephaestus kicked her out: lounge around with some snacks and engage in absolutely nothing productive whatsoever. Hestia could just lay back and enjoy the beautiful sunlight streaming through what few portions of stained glass remained in the church windows. She didn't need to worry about Queen Administrator or Taylor; they were protected by Aiz Wallenstein and thus arguably safer than in their own home. Hestia didn't need to hurry to read about Development Abilities like Tiona had suggested; it would be at least a few more days until Administrator leveled. The Goddess of Hearth and Home didn't need to clean their home; it was already sparkling. Nope, she didn't need to do anything productive whatsoever.
She broke within half an hour.
"When did being lazy get
boring?" Hestia wailed.
You've corrupted me, Hephaestus! This is all your fault!
Author's Note: No, this isn't an evil Bell-in-name-only fic, a Black Hole Bell, or even a "have you heard the good word of our lady and savior, Freya" story. Those who correctly predicted Bell's Familia get an entire batch of Internet cookies. Collectively. You'll need to fight each other for them.
Or a common white one. Or maybe a speckley one. They're not as good as a royal black murderfloof, but any giant murderfloof is still a giant murderfloof. Given how Taylor made them, though, I imagine that it'd even be pretty straightforward to make "lesser" ones, too, if they were simply fed less. QA and Taylor might be able to pull it off, and they're strange enough that any further weirdness surrounding the situation might just be accepted as an inevitability that shouldn't really be expected to make any sense. Why didn't QA say anything earlier? Because she's QA; people asked the wrong questions, so she gave unhelpful, accurate answers.
); she remembers a bunch of three-digit numbers and spoke accordingly.
"It's like the existence itself condones her errorneous adventuring ways..."
