So! Last chapter, we learned that I need to more intensely proofread the shit I put in the lore corner. I write it after I've completed the chapter, so it has the least amount of re-reads compared to the rest of my content, and that means that sometimes, stupid Glory forgets to clarify some very important details. For example, how can Sky Nymphs be nomadic if they die away from their tether? The answer is migratory patterns around their tethers rather than an established settlement. In addition, I accidentally referred to both classifications a Nymph has as their subspecies, which might be a little confusing! My wife offered a much better solution than what I was planning, suggesting that despite being very similar, the greater classifications of Nymph would likely be regarded as closely related, but separate, species. So Awata, for example, has the species 'Water Nymph' and the subspecies 'River Nymph.' Nymphs are capable of procreation within their species, so if Awata so desired, she could have a kid with a Sea Nymph or Lake Nymph. The resulting child would still be entirely of one subspecies, however.
A final point of order is that one commenter pointed out that Flower Nymphs seemed like they'd have a very short lifespan, on account of flowers having short lifespans. Nymphs that have organic tethers will almost never die from their tether expiring naturally or from it being destroyed by anything less than a natural disaster – the tether is fortified by its bond with the Nymph, so a Flower Nymph's tether would (perhaps unnaturally!) survive for nearly a century before the Nymph dies of old age, assuming nothing else comes by and decides to destroy it.
Izuku woke up to the sound of his stomach growling.
In those brief moments before he fully realized that he was conscious and able to move, he was exceptionally confused. His eyes didn't quite open, so he didn't know where he was. He didn't know where he'd been. All he knew was that he was comfortable, warm and ravenously hungry.
He was able to sit upright before he managed to open his eyes. The room around him was unfamiliar. It was clearly made out of logs, rather than boards, though the furniture seemed almost ornately carved in comparison. A thick, quilted blanket was draped over the bed, with several others folded neatly on a nearby chair. Other hallmarks of a wealthy person's bedroom were present – an armoire with brass fittings, a standing mirror, and a chest of drawers with gold handles among the more prevalent. A basin with a washcloth and a chamber pot rested next to the bed.
As he processed his surroundings, a trickle of memories began to surface. He gasped and clapped a hand over his right eye. Half of the room went dark. Izuku released a shuddering sigh of relief. A downward gaze found his torso covered in bandages – clean ones, thankfully, but an alarming amount of them.
"You'd best not get out of that bed, young man, or I'll be quite cross with you!" came an aged voice from beyond the closed door.
"What...?" Izuku muttered. He furrowed his brows as he tried to place the voice. It didn't sound like anyone he knew, and he desperately fought against his still-waking brain to create a working understanding of where he was and who could be talking to him.
Before the Godling could follow that train of thought to conclusion, the door opened. An exceptionally short, elderly woman came through the door. Her hair was up in a bun and she wore a simple white robe. In her hands was a tray with bread, a cup of water, and some manner of soup. "You've been unconscious for over a day now, so I don't want you getting out of that bed until you've finished everything on this tray." She had to stand on her toes and reach to put the tray on his lap. "But don't rush to eat it all, either! I don't need you throwing up all over my blankets, and you don't need to be throwing up after recovering from your wounds."
He swallowed and fought the urge to immediately tear into the food. "T-thank you..." His voice came out in a whisper. He coughed to clear his throat. "Thank you," he said at a more normal volume.
"Of course, dear." The old woman pulled one of the unused chairs in the room next to his bed and sat down next to it. "Now, I'm sure you're very confused. You must have a lot of questions."
Izuku nodded, gently nibbling on the piece of bread. It was soft and surprisingly fresh. "How..." He hesitated to even ask the question. "How bad was I?"
"Not so bad that you were beyond my talents, but I would advise against fighting the Godling of War with nothing but a knife you've never used in the future. You were burned all over, with cuts from where he blasted you through bookcases, and your right eye was an absolute mess. Let's not even get started on the internal bleeding." She saw the realization on his face before he had a chance to act on it. "Don't you dare start bowing and scraping, young man. If you want to show deference and respect, then you'd best keep on eating that food."
"I... but..." He sighed. "Thank you, Grandmother."
"You're quite welcome. Of course, you'll need to call me Granny Chiyo when little Tenya is with you."
He nearly choked on the bread. "B-but I couldn't –" A severe look from the Goddess of Healing cut him off.
"Well, since you had him bring you here, he had questions about why a normal scribe would have a magical key that makes doors open to the home of an old lady with healing powers. In order to keep you from having to break Yagi's rules, I told him that I was Nighteye's grandmother. It certainly did the job of explaining the key's existence and should head off any questions about how I managed to heal you so easily." She crossed her arms. "I don't terribly like lying, but I told Yagi that I'd look after you, and it'll be much harder to do that if other people are suspicious of you being a Godling."
Izuku wasn't sure how to respond to that. To buy himself time, he took a drink of water. "...Thank you, I... I guess. I don't know how I'd... I mean, my mantle didn't really come with any power, so...I don't know what I'd do if you hadn't."
Grandmother scoffed, but her face was soft. "Well, I wasn't about to leave you all on your lonesome like some other Gods I know." His discomfort over the jab at the King of the Gods must have been visible because she continued: "He's a fine leader and all, and he certainly keeps the more excitable Gods in line, but Yagi's just a bit full of himself. I'm much older than he is, so I like to remind him that he doesn't always know best. He's listening now, I'm sure, wanting to see how the two of us interact."
The green-haired Godling looked around once more. A change from this rather awkward topic seemed in order. "I...Where are we, anyways? I mean, I know we're in your house, but..."
"We're nowhere near the Palace, if that's what you were wondering. Other than that, I don't think it particularly matters. It's a far place from anywhere else, and the only ones likely to stumble upon it naturally already know where it is."
He set down the remains of the bread and began working on the soup. It was mostly broth, with a few small vegetables floating about in it. "And... what, um... what about Iida? Is it okay that he knows?"
"I don't think it'll be a problem. He's not likely to realize just how far away from civilization we are, because no matter how you leave, if you've come in by that key, you'll come out where you entered from. And... besides, I would never refuse care to someone brought to my door. I would prefer if you found other ways to heal mortals, but if it's that or death, I'd rather see them than have them get an early visit from Nosferatu. Any Godlings you want to bring here are welcome, as long as they're willing to behave themselves. We'll just tell them the same thing I told Tenya."
"Speaking of, where... Is it safe to talk about this? Isn't he here somewhere?"
"No, I sent him away shortly after he brought you to me. Told him that his concern was admirable, but his constant pacing and questioning was a bit much. He said that he'd be staying in Shizuoka for a few more days to make sure you were okay, and I told him that I'd make sure you knew to go see him before he left."
Suddenly, Izuku's appetite was gone. He set the spoon down and tried to find the words to voice his concerns.
"You're wondering about how to handle the lie between the two of you."
He started, causing some of the soup to slosh out of the bowl and onto the tray. Incredibly mindful of the glare that earned him from the Goddess, he swallowed and chose his words carefully. "I don't know how... I... I can't be just and lie to him. And to just use the information he found and run off to find the Palace myself would be horrible of me."
Grandmother nodded. "That certainly is a troubling conundrum."
"What should I do?" It was a forward question, perhaps, but he had yet to find the answer himself. Perhaps she would impart some great wisdom to him.
"Oh, Izuku, it's quite impossible for a God to directly advise a Godling on the subject of the Great Game. I'm afraid I can't tell you a single thing about what you should do."
"...Oh." He hung his head, mouth pressed in a line. That meant he wasn't going to be any closer to answering that particular question.
After a quiet moment, she said, "I would advise you to use that brain of yours, though. You're being shamefully negligent of it."
That was an odd thing to say. It really wasn't advice as one would traditionally give it, or at least, not any more than just being told to think about it. The fact that she said that was significant, somehow. His previous experience with divining meaning from Nighteye's cryptic statements and messages would prove a distinct advantage, if this was the only way that he'd be receiving advice from Gods.
So, the question became, how did he need to use his brain? The immediate answer was obviously incorrect, because he had been thinking about how to handle the issue with Iida, and he'd gotten nowhere for it. The only other reasonable possibility, in this context, would be to use his brain to think about her inability to give advice. "...You can't tell me what I should do. Can you tell me what I shouldn't do?"
"Oh, heavens no. That's much too obvious of a loophole to be allowed. The rules of the Great Game are well-written enough that specifically telling a Godling what not to do has been disallowed since the first time it was played."
It had seemed worth asking, but she did bring up a good point. You didn't have to be a genius to think of that avenue. That said, it did seem like she thought he was on the right track. The way she had phrased her sentence indicated that there was a loophole somewhere for him to exploit. So, what other options were there? "I'd guess you probably couldn't do 'yes' or 'no' answers, those would still be covered under 'telling me what or what not to do.'"
"That is a reasonable assumption."
That gave Izuku pause. "Is it a correct one?"
"It is."
"But you phrased it that way to make me ask that question."
"Did I?"
He looked at her for a long moment. "You're trying to make me poke as many holes in the rules as I can."
"Why would I do that?"
"Because you're trying to lead me to the correct conclusion."
"And what makes you think that?"
Izuku furrowed his brow. "You're only answering me in questions."
"Am I?"
The obvious answer was 'yes,' but was that the response she wanted? "You are. Which means that the questions are important."
"Why would a question be important?" Her eyes were twinkling.
"Because a question has an answer?" She didn't say anything. "Because the question is the answer?"
"That's an interesting theory."
He looked at her studiously. "So, you can answer me in questions, because a question doesn't tell me what to do or what not to do." This had to be it. "Because a question makes me get the answer by myself."
She made a 'go on' motion.
He gripped his chin in a thinking pose. There was something he was missing, but he was close. "...But you can't overtly lead me into the right questions because that's the same thing as telling me. I have to... I have to ask you the right questions, so that you can ask me the right questions, so that I can find the right answer." He looked back at her. "Right?"
Grandmother tapped a finger to her temple with a smile on her face.
With this knowledge, Izuku took a moment to consider how to approach the subject. Playing a cat-and-mouse game of questions didn't seem like the best way to get another perspective on this situation, but it did seem like the only way. What questions to ask, though? Direct questions on the matter wouldn't get him any result that would be helpful. He ate a few spoonfuls of broth while he deliberated. "Lord Yagi wants me to act in just ways. But none of the options before me are just. With no correct options, how does someone decide what to do?"
"Is justice really what's most important?" she asked.
"Is reaching the Palace what's most important?"
"That's a question only you can answer, dear. I can't know how badly you want or need to be King."
A dead end. But it was worth considering. Was reaching the Palace first the most important thing to him? "Is me reaching the Palace first what's most important to Lord Yagi?"
"Would the other Godlings be so bad that Yagi would want you to act unjustly?"
That seemed like an odd question, given her earlier one about whether being just was important. Why would she ask questions that seemed to place it at both ends of his list of priorities? Moreover, it couldn't be that all of the other Godlings were poor choices to be the King (or Queen, he supposed) of the Gods. "Does the Great Game really matter, in the context of what I do?"
"My, that's a big question. Does such an important event really matter so much?"
Again, a question that placed contradictory implications on the importance of the subject. But... "You're saying that I'm thinking in terms of playing the Game, and I shouldn't be. But what other terms would I consider?"
"What other terms do you have?"
It took him some time to come up with the answer. "...My own."
"Why would you think of this in your own terms, when you could be considering it against the Game's?"
"Because... Because there's no correct option if I think about this as part of the Game. I need to think about what I want to do. About what I would do if I weren't part of it."
"Why wouldn't you be part of the Great Game?"
Izuku furrowed his brow. "...You can only be part of the Great Game if you're a Godling. So... if I wasn't part of the Game, I wouldn't be a Godling."
"And what would that mean?"
"Well... If I wasn't a Godling, I wouldn't be interested in the Great Game. I wouldn't have known anything about it. But... Iida still would have come to seek out Wizard Nighteye's library. And I still would have helped him."
Grandmother sat back in her chair, saying nothing.
That was the moment that it clicked for Izuku. "I still would have helped him. I still would have gone back for Wizard Nighteye, and he still would have gone back for me, and tried to save my life. And... I would... No, I do owe him my life. I probably would have died in there trying to..." he swallowed. "Get Nighteye out. So I should help Iida! I should go with him and..." He gripped his chin. "No, that can't be right. That still... It's still leeching off of him and his progress. Unless I support him as the King of the Gods? But that would be contrary to what the All Mighty told me to do..."
"That sounds like something that will require a considerable amount of thought."
Izuku blinked. It couldn't be that simple.
Couldn't it?
"...So this buys me time. I can keep helping Iida and repay his faithfulness to me, and it'll give circumstances time to change, or for things to develop more, and give me the context I need to make a better decision. Maybe even a just one, with the options that could open up in time."
Grandmother stood up. "Finish your food and call for me when you're done. We'll see about having you walk around the house a little bit. Once you can walk by yourself and we get a little meat in you, just to be safe, we can talk about you going to see little Tenya."
He nodded. "Thank you, Grandmother. I... It's such a simple answer, but... I don't think I could have gotten to it without help."
"Sometimes, a sharp mind is a terrible curse. The tendency to think about things can be a burden as often as it can be a blessing." She left the room, shutting the door behind her.
Izuku shut the door to Grandmother's house behind him. He walked into the late afternoon light of a street in Shizuoka that he recognized well. Iida must have taken him into the first building that had a locking door after coming off the cliff-side path.
The thought lead him immediately to a painful series of memories about the mansion and its inhabitants. He'd spent so much of his life in that building and with those people that it almost didn't seem real that it was all gone. Awata would be back eventually, but would she stay? With a very literal bond to another place and nothing keeping her here, it seemed likely that she wouldn't. It wasn't that he was upset about that, precisely. More like... It felt like the ashes of his life were already scattering. The mansion was gone. Nighteye was gone. Awata would be gone soon. He'd be gone soon. Gone from the life he knew. From his home.
From his mother.
Initially, he had planned to go and find Iida. There were plenty of places he could be staying in the city, but it stood to reason that he'd be relatively near the path up to the mansion. It probably wouldn't have taken very long to track down the young noble. But after what must have been the very obvious destruction of Nighteye's home and a day of being completely absent, Izuku had decided he needed to see his mom. For his sake as much as for hers.
He clutched at his bag protectively as he approached the door. Its familiar weight grounded him. While the rest of his life crumbled around him, while he stared Godhood in the face, the feeling of the strap pulling on his shoulder let him lie and say that he was just home from another day working for the wizard.
Izuku was very good at lying to himself. Even he didn't believe that one.
He opened the door. "Mom? Are you here?"
A short, green-haired blur violently attached itself to him, answering his question. She practically wailed his name as she hugged him as tightly as she could manage, her tears already staining his shirt. "I was so worried about you! When that Iida boy told me you'd been hurt during the attack on Nighteye's mansion, I – I – " Her wailing began anew.
He hugged Inko back. "I... I'm sorry, mom. I didn't mean to scare you. I... Nighteye's grandmother is... she's a healer. Iida was able to get me to her, and I'm fine now." With some effort, he managed to put some space between the two of them so that she could actually see him. "See?" He smiled, trying to put her at ease.
His mother sniffled, tears still streaming down her face. "B-but the fire... You could see it from here! How c –" She hiccuped. "How could I not be terrified? For all I knew, you were still in there!" She managed to slip his grip and force him back into the hug.
Izuku resigned himself to his fate and let his mother squeeze the life out of him while she cried her heart out. There was little use in reasoning with her when she got like this.
After what felt like a full season of standing in the doorway, she finally let go. Her voice was hoarse when she spoke. "I'm going to go finish with dinner. You should change into some fresh clothes. We'll talk more after, okay?" She wiped her eyes and smiled at him.
He nodded. "I'm okay, mom. You don't have to cry anymore."
"I know, but I'm going to anyway." She turned and headed back over to the larder.
Izuku went another direction, towards his room. Their house was humble, not overburdened with rooms. The kitchen served as a dual-purpose area for all things food related and, as it possessed the lone fireplace in the building, tended to be where they gathered when lacking in activity to partake in. Beside it was the larder and a short hallway that connected to their respective rooms, a storage area, and a few small closets. It hadn't been meant as a permanent dwelling for their family; as Izuku understood it, his father had been a sergeant in the Ataran military. Much of his salary was saved with the hopes of buying a larger building, perhaps one that could have served as a place of business for whatever he chose to do once he retired.
He never made it to retirement, of course. That was why they were still here. His mother's meager income mostly covered necessities, and even when Izuku began adding to that, it never seemed reasonable to his mother to spend that money on a bigger house. She encouraged him to put as much of it away as he could, so that when he met a girl, he could buy her the kind of home that his father had dreamed of. He mostly complied, but frequently went out to purchase food or other things his mother had mentioned saving for. The fact that he made more than her ate at him, and it seemed the best way to take care of her.
That thought, of course, brought the conversation he was dreading to the forefront of his mind. Leaving Shizuoka and his mother behind. She would be fine financially, especially considering that her money would only have to support herself. His real concern is that she'd be alone for the first time in over a score of years. Before him, she'd had her family, and then his father. It wasn't as though she was entirely without friends, but that wasn't the same as a family. He sighed and tossed his bag to the floor, the clinking of coins ringing throughout –
Clinking of coins?
He bent over to open the satchel, looking at it as though it was a snake poised to bite him. When he did so, he saw his sheathed dagger, the box with the silver key in it, and a few odds and ends for writing alongside a journal he had purchased. All things he had expected to see. What he was not anticipating were two envelopes, one fat and the other thin, alongside a coin purse the size of a small melon. Izuku swallowed and looked around the room. He wasn't sure why. It wasn't as though anyone were around to see, and he certainly hadn't stolen it, but explaining the presence of such a prodigious pouch was entirely beyond him at the moment. Who would believe it was his?
Opening the drawstrings made him yelp in fear before clamping a hand over his mouth. A golden light shone back out at him, coins glinting from the rays of the sinking sun coming through his window. He gingerly churned through the contents. No other colors appeared, making the purse worth considerably more than he had made during his entire tenure as Nighteye's scribe. In a panic, Izuku yanked on the strings, closing the mouth and cutting off the glittering light of the fortune he had beheld.
He reached for the envelopes next. The fat one declared itself The Last Will and Testament of Mirai Nighteye, which made his brows knit together. When had that been put in his bag? The thinner envelope bore no identifier other than his own name. Taking a deep breath, Izuku set the will aside and opened the letter addressed to him.
Midoriya, it began.
I have breached the fog clouding my divinations and beheld my own death. I will shortly be descending from my chambers to eject you and our guest from the mansion, and I do not doubt that this action will cause you great distress. As you read this, understand that I did this not out of anger, but concern for your life. My visions are immutable, and all that is shown within them has always come to pass. As you and Iida were not with me, I am taking this action to ensure that only I am buried with the mansion.
Do not fear the things you have found in your satchel. I am placing them there to ensure their escape from the mansion, as I have no way of knowing how long I have left. The only responsibility you have to them is to ensure that my will is delivered to Awata. Under no circumstances should you give it to anyone else, as I suspect a great many of those possessing literacy would attempt to alter it and grant my treasures to themselves.
The money you will find is for you. You have served admirably and without complaint. My intention for some time has been to continue your employment until my dying day, though I never suspected that it would be so soon. This sum will keep you and your mother comfortable for many years, even should you or Awata choose not to continue your employment upon her return.
I would apologize for the suddenness of this development were any of it my own fault. I wish you well in your remaining years.
Nighteye
Izuku didn't realize he was crying until a tear hit the letter. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve and choked back a sob. He folded the letter and put it back in its envelope before the dam burst. The whole week, both what had happened and what was yet to come, hit him at once. He curled into a ball on the floor with a hand over his mouth so that his mother wouldn't hear and resisted the urge to curse the Gods for everything surrounding the Great Game and how it had impacted his life. He had been happy. The people around him had been happy... Or they had, at least, appeared to be. He had his mother, Nighteye, Awata, and Nighteye's library, and that was all he had needed. The Game had taken that away from all of them.
He knew it wasn't the Gods' fault. They couldn't control when they died. Ultimately, the Godling couldn't bring himself to even truly think those poisonous thoughts. He understood why the Gods needed to do what they were doing, and he knew that his part in this was to help ensure that the next generation of Gods was a benevolent one. What Izuku was to do was important, and even if he didn't end up the King, he'd be making the world a safer place for mortals everywhere.
But that wasn't for right now. Right now, he needed to cry. So, he did.
The conversation with his mother hadn't been easy. She took the news of the Godlings in stride, though he had, of course, not told her about his own status. She had been horrified at the news that Bakugou was so horribly twisted by his newfound power and whatever hatred he bore for Nighteye and Izuku. Telling her about the money had brought her tears of joy, for his sake if not her own.
That had been the easy part.
Both of them had cried when Izuku had revealed his intent to ask Iida to travel with him. The Godling of Intellect and Cunning was a good man, and he needed all the support he could muster. What Izuku could offer may be meager, but he owed the noble his life, and it was a debt he intended to repay. This wasn't purely for his mother's sake, either. He did honestly intend to reciprocate that service as best as he could, and to make up for any dishonesty between now and the future that he was forced to engage in at Yagi's behest.
Regardless, she had begged him to stay, and he had made it clear that he had to go. They argued and fought well into the night over it. What ultimately had changed her mind was his insistence that he had a chance here to help make sure that the new King of the Gods wasn't someone like Bakugou, or worse. He told a small lie, relating what Iida had told him of the warning Nezu had given him about the dangerous folk counted among the Godlings and the consequences if these people should succeed. She had feebly protested, but he knew that he had convinced her. After another bout of incomprehensible sobs from the pair, Inko had praised Izuku for his conviction and desire to help, saying that he had inherited all of his father's best (and most dangerous) qualities. She extracted a promise from him that he would stay as safe as he could, he forced her to take a portion of the money Nighteye had left him, just to be safe.
Breakfast the next morning had been a somber affair, and the parting had been rife with more tears from both parties. Izuku privately resolved that the first thing he would do after completing his part in the Great Game, victorious or not, would be to come back and visit so that she'd know he was still alive. Then, he'd tell her everything, and beg her forgiveness for lying to her.
This marked the second person to whom Izuku would have to one day humble himself before and request absolution. He hoped it wouldn't become a trend, but an all-too-familiar sensation rising in his stomach suggested that it was a vain hope.
He tried to ignore the feeling as best as he could while he asked around for Iida. It didn't take long to narrow down where he was; as Izuku had suspected, he had rented a room at an inn relatively close to the path to the mansion. Tall strangers with glasses, blue hair, and expensive clothing and equipment stood out.
It wasn't more than a minute after he had asked the innkeeper to let Iida know that he had arrived before the Godling made his entrance onto the ground floor. He practically vaulted the stairs in his rush to traverse them. "Midoriya! I cannot express how glad I am to see that you're all right!" The nobleman skidded to a stop shortly before he would have collided with Izuku and placed his hands on his shoulders.
"Yeah, I... uh..." He swallowed, bracing himself for the near blasphemy about to pass through his lips. "G-Granny Chiyo took care of me. She's, uh, a very powerful healer."
Iida nodded, giving no indication that he disbelieved the identity of the old woman he had entrusted Izuku to. "It's fortunate that the wizard decided to provide you with such a potent magical item! If he hadn't, you likely wouldn't have survived your wounds. I understand from Grandmother –" Izuku flinched. "– Nighteye that your injuries were far more severe than they appeared, which is a somber thought. You did not look well. And your eye, it's completely functional?"
The green-haired man had to consciously stop himself from reaching to cover his right eye. "I... yeah, why wouldn't it be?"
His prospective companion winced. "When I first saw you, I had thought that it was caked shut with blood. After getting closer, I realized that it was, well... gone. Or so sufficiently damaged so as to appear as such."
Izuku gulped. This time, he did cover his eye. Gone? He shook his head and tried not to dwell on it. "I... guess I'm lucky that her magic was strong enough to put it back to normal."
A nod, followed by a somewhat awkward pause, was his answer. Then, after a moment: "Midoriya, could I trouble you to come up to my room? There are some questions I would like to have answered, and though there are few people around this morning, I'd rather have the conversation in private."
Something about that made Izuku's already acrobatic stomach plummet. "Oh, um. Yeah, sure there's... yeah. Not a problem."
"Excellent. This way, please." Iida turned and led the way up the stairs and into a second story room.
Upon their arrival, Izuku hovered awkwardly around the door. There wasn't really anywhere to sit in the room – it was mostly a bed and a small chest at its foot, with Iida's personal effects neatly organized on and under a small shelf.
"Thank you for agreeing to this. What information you have could be important to me as I proceed in my search for the Palace."
"...Of course. Any way I can help."
Iida produced a book from his backpack, along with a charcoal pencil. "Now, when I found you in the mansion, you had said that the fires were caused by a Godling. Am I correct in assuming that this would be Hellfire's Godling?"
"Uh, no, actually. It was the Godling of War. His, um, his name is Katsuki Bakugou. I... actually knew him when I was younger."
The other man's eyebrows furrowed. "Why would the Godling of War possess the power of fire?"
"His parents made fireworks. What he was doing... it seemed more like the explosion of a firework than just creating fire. I guess... that somehow qualifies under War? I mean... it certainly hurt."
"Hm. I have heard stories of fireworks destroying buildings when they were lit indoors... I could see the potential for weaponization, but I'm surprised that the God of War was able to give him that power." Iida shook his head. "Regardless. You said you knew him?"
Izuku's eyes found the floor. "Yeah. We... we used to be friends. At least, I thought we were. He was always... confrontational. Maybe even angry. When, um... When we were kids, some fireworks detonated close to Wizard Nighteye's mansion, and... the next day, he demanded that no more be used, because it had started a fire. Ka – um. Bakugou's family... they left, because that was their livelihood. We were probably around eight at the time. I don't know what happened after they left... but I never thought he'd try to kill me. I mean... I... I get why he was mad at Nighteye. I don't know that it's worth killing him over, but... I don't understand why he'd be so mad at me."
The scratching of the pencil stopped. "I couldn't say, having never met the man. He is certainly someone to be wary of, however. Is there anything else about him that you can share?"
"He... probably knows how to fight. He said a few things about it before... he knocked me out. But I really don't know much besides that."
After recording that final piece of information, the journal was shut. "Thank you, Midoriya. As I had promised upon our last departure from the mansion, I will remember your aid, and I will return one day to repay you."
Izuku took a deep breath, shoving the reflexive discomfort aside. "About that... I want to come with you."
He expected the shocked silence. It was an absurd request. When it finally broke, Iida spoke a single word. "Why?"
He could do this. He had practiced the lie since last night. It flowed from his lips with sickening ease. "My master is dead and his home destroyed. The one who did it is out to become the King of the Gods. I can't even imagine the kind of place the world would be if he were to succeed. I may not be able to do much, but I'd rather put whatever aid I can provide behind you to ensure that the next King is a good man. Or... God, I guess. I want the world to be a safe place for my mother. And... I mean, for..." This part was inexplicably difficult to vocalize. "I'll probably eventually get married. So... for the sake of... whoever that ends up being, and any children I have..." He swallowed. "I want to help, Iida."
The Godling of Intellect gave him a critical look. "Have you ever traveled before?"
"What? Uh... no, I haven't."
"Do you have any idea how to pitch a tent, or safely construct a firepit without risking burning down the land around you? How to cleanse water that doesn't come from a well?"
"I... I've never had to do any of that, but I've read –"
Iida cut him off. "Do you know how to kill and clean an animal in case you run out of food? Or what can be safely eaten from the land around you?"
"...No."
"Have you the slightest idea how to fight? Defend yourself?"
He looked down. This was humiliating. "No."
"Well, what practical aid can you provide, then? Don't misunderstand me, I am very grateful for your services thus far, but your realm is firmly within civilization, and largely constrained to a library that no longer exists."
He fought to keep from crying. He fought so hard. "I... I don't know. I could learn, though."
"I'm sorry, Midoriya, but it really doesn't sound like you'd be anything but a burden as a traveling companion. It's not that I dislike you, but I have a monumental task before me. It's going to be difficult enough as it is."
"But... please, Iida. I can't just stay here and do nothing!"
The nobleman let out a frustrated sigh. "Even if we were to set aside the pile of things you'd need to learn to provide tangible aid, that doesn't answer the question that most worries me: How did you know that the stakes of this search include becoming King of the Gods?"
Izuku's eyes went wide. How had he not thought of that? Iida had never said anything about the Great Game! He had practiced the speech so many times, and never once had it occurred to him that he had access to information that he shouldn't have! He had to answer quickly to avoid suspicion, but how? How could – "It was Kacchan. Bakugou, I mean. That... that was my nickname for him when we were little." His mouth had started moving of its own accord, but his mind caught up quickly. It was the only way out of this situation that didn't immediately breach the rules the All Mighty had set for him. He was grateful for the unbidden excuse, but disgusted that he had suddenly become so proficient at lying that he was able to do it without actually thinking about it. "When... Before he tried to kill me, he told me that he was the next God of War, and the next King of the Gods. He... He demanded that I bow down and worship him, and he'd let me live. So... I don't know how you'd get... I don't know. Chosen to be the next King? But... If it isn't set in stone... I'd rather try and make sure it's you."
It was a long moment before Iida responded. "I appreciate the sentiment, Midoriya. Truly. But my path will surely bring me into conflict with other Godlings at some point. You've already almost died to one. I can't afford to be looking out for you while fighting them. I'm already going to be at enough of a disadvantage, with most of my powers being of a nonviolent persuasion."
This wasn't how this was supposed to go. Iida had been so grateful to him before. There had been a sense of camaraderie, that they worked well together. He was supposed to say yes. "But... But Iida, I owe you my life! I can't just forget that! I can't just do nothing about it!"
"I'm sorry, but my answer is no."
That was it, then. The skeleton of a plan that he had been building, to advance closer to the goal Lord Yagi had set for him while still having the opportunity to make up for all of the lies... Gone. "If I can't go with you, then I'll go myself!" Izuku blinked. His words had surprised both of them. What was he saying? What was he thinking? He couldn't be sure. His mouth was moving on its own again. "I'll go east, and I'll find another Godling to support! I'll figure it out myself, and I'll make sure that the next King of the Gods, or Queen of the Gods, or whatever they are is good and just and benevolent!" The feeling in his chest... It was burning. It was the same feeling that had burst into life when he was talking to his patron on the cliff, that fiery resolve.
"You said you wouldn't tell anyone." Iida almost sounded... hurt.
"I don't want to! But I can't sit by and do nothing while Kacchan murders his way to the throne! I can't stand aside when I have the opportunity to guide history for the next three thousand years and make sure the world is the best place it can be for the people living in it!" His hands clenched into fists. "I have the opportunity to make a difference, and that means I have to take it! I want to help you, Iida, but if you won't accept my help, then I'll find someone else!"
Those final words ushered an uncomfortable silence into the room. He stood there, a single fist brandished, while the other man stared at him with an incomprehensible expression on his face.
The minute that passed before Iida finally spoke felt like an eternity. "I've never met anyone with the fire burning in your chest, Midoriya. Coming back from the brink of death, ready to throw yourself back to the wolves for the mere chance to make the world a better place..." He shook his head. "It is a Gods-damned shame that you were born a commoner. You would have made a fantastic noble. Very well. I will accept your company on my journey, and I will teach you what you need to know to survive. However, I expect you to learn well and heed my word as well as you would Nighteye's. Do you understand?"
He nodded. "I do."
"Then we should begin preparations at once. There's still much time, but if we're to make room for your instruction, we'll need to take all that we can. I will begin settling my affairs here." He began quickly writing in his journal again before tearing a page out and handling it to Izuku. "I'll need you to acquire all of these items before we depart. With the purse I saw in your bag, I'm sure you won't have any financial issue?"
"I... No, that's not a problem. I can do that." He took the list and looked over it. Much of it was traveling gear for him: a large backpack, a tent (Iida had specified that it should be made of leather or cotton), sturdy boots, a good cloak, rations, dining materials, things of that nature. Also included were items that were easy to divine the purpose of, such as a sword, a pair of wooden training blades, and some light armor if he could find it.
"Meet me at the west gate when you've acquired everything you can, and we'll depart from there."
"The west gate?"
"Yes. The Palace may lie to the east, but I have an appointment to the west that I must keep. It's not ideal, but we also didn't know where the Palace might be when we agreed upon the location."
"We? Who are you meeting?"
Iida shook his head. "I'll tell you eventually, Midoriya, but for now, that has to be kept secret. The less people who know, the less likely things are to go wrong. It's not that I don't trust you, but if you don't know who or where we're meeting, someone else can't make you tell them."
"...I also won't be able to reunite with you if we get separated."
"Best we don't, then. I'm sorry, but I won't be saying a word on the matter until we've arrived at our destination."
It was frustrating. He didn't like not knowing, but these were the best terms he was likely to get and wasn't about to press his luck. "Okay. I'll, uh. I'll go and... buy what I can. I'll see you at the west gate."
Iida gave him a small smile. "I appreciate your understanding."
Izuku almost didn't feel terrible when he left the inn.
Originally, there was quite a bit more that was going to happen in chapter 3, but I was already sitting at almost eight thousand words, and I have a good breaking point here. I've decided that I'm going to shuffle things around a bit between what would have been the back half of this chapter and what would have been chapter four, and that should give us a good, meaty update next time. I know this chapter was mostly introspective, but I feel a lot of this is important for setting up other things later in the story. I hope y'all don't terribly mind and that the next chapter is action-packed enough for you!
Today's lore entry is brief but significant. Try not to think too hard about the implications.
Demigods
A Demigod is the result of a union that involves at least one God as a parent. Whether the other partner is mortal or divine makes little difference, because according to legend, the attributes possessed by the child are about the same. Legend and records are all we have to go on, however, because the last known Demigod (a child of Yamada the Bard) died over four hundred years ago.
Demigods are, for lack of a better word, superhuman. While their physical strength and stamina do not always show a significant improvement over normal mortals, most recorded stories speak of their might surpassing the expectations of what a single man could do. Each and every one of them is steeped in magic, possessing an innate ability to tap into the arcane. Some can only command magic enough to exercise the purview(s) of their Godly parent(s), but others have possessed such a complete grasp that they have taken the title of Wizard to new heights. Regardless of their parent or prerogative, Demigods leave their mark on the world in a fantastic way, not in the least because they have been recorded to live over three hundred years before dying of old age.
Scholars argue over the veracity of the records of early civilizations, as it seems that there was a Demigod around every corner in those days. Others simply state that the Gods bore less children as the time went on, the sorrow of their passing a stain on the eternity of their divine lives. Either way, all agree that a Demigod is a rare thing in modern times, and the various temples are quick to investigate and disprove any claims of Demigodhood made in relation to their patron.
