There's an EX chapter ("The Letter") that takes place in an alternate timeline after Chapter 25. It's very wholesome, so go check it out.

Special thanks to my fiancé for teaching me happiness and what it means to have a family of my own.

Chapter 26 – Geuse

At first, it was nothing.

Then, a voice came forth. It was not a true voice, for it did not speak. It was merely intent, a will, and it came from the progenitor of all spirits.

From nothing, a small, yellow orb came into existence.

The orb was blissful, for it was alive and ignorant. It floated on the breeze, swam in the water, rested by the flames, and watched the glow of the stars in the night.

Nothing, however, could contest the feel of the ground beneath it, for it was a lesser earth spirit, and its affinity gave him joy.

Mere days after its birth, the spirit felt happiness, and it grew into a quasi spirit.

He – for he was no longer so primitive as to be an "it" – traveled the land, staying low to the ground. Invisible to all, he viewed the hug of a mother, a couple's first kiss, and the birth of a child. All of them were beautiful, wondrous things. It must be incredible to walk amongst these humans and share in their experiences.

Then he entered the Loud Place.

Shouts, clinks, stomps, jeers, taunts, glugs, crying, smacks, and cries of pain. A world of vices and sin, quite unlike the land of bliss in which he had lived so far.

At the center of it all was a man with brilliant red hair, sky-blue eyes, and a handsome face marred only by a condescending smirk.

The tall, muscular man perched on his stool with a drink in hand, drunk on his own power; the world had recently bestowed its love upon him, and he was a force to be reckoned with. His gravelly voice, dripping with arrogance, issued a challenge to the room, despite having already decided the inevitable outcome. "Betcha none've ya little fishes can beat me in anything!"

Standing opposite the man was a short, thin woman bearing raven hair, dark eyes, and a confident grin. With minuscule hands on her hips, she airily said, "So, the mighty Reid Astrea wants a battle? I'm sure that's nothing I can't handle!"

The man – Reid – was silent for a moment before bursting out into laughter. "Ah, tha's a good one!" Then, leering, "How 'bout we skip to the part where ah grab yer tits and fuck ya senseless?"

The woman's face twisted in disgust before it was carefully masked with fluttering eyelashes. "If you can best me in a battle of strength, you can have your way with me. You can do whatever you want."

With a glint in his eye, he quickly accepted.

The girl raised her eyebrows but didn't seem surprised. She swayed her hips as she approached him and said, "If you win, you may bed me. If I win, you leave this place, and never come back."

Reid rolled his eyes, clearly focused on only the first two parts. "Yeah, whatever, lady. Let's jus' –"

"Trisha." She held out her hand and firmly grasped his, flatly saying, "My name is Trisha."

Then, without further ado, she pulled.

He barely had time to widen his eyes before he was flung out of the door and crashed into the building opposite the tavern.

"And don't come back!" she shouted. The tavern dwellers cheered, for Reid Astrea would no longer terrorize their humble village.

The quasi spirit left the town, pondering these events. For three days and three nights, he worked diligently to comprehend it, and eventually, he found his answer.

The quasi spirit learned what it meant to protect, and he became a full spirit, shining brighter than ever before.

That was his undoing.

Spirits were birthed as lesser spirits, then grew into quasi spirits and eventually full spirits. The process typically took years… whereas he only took a week.

From within, the excess energy threatened to rip his ethereal body asunder. He could no longer perceive anything but sound. Pain rippled through him, threatening to drive him insane. He struggled but held himself together by his two lessons.

Happiness. He wanted to experience more of the place that brought him such joy.

Protect. If he burst, people would get hurt, and he couldn't bear to hurt the good people he had observed.

He'd hold himself together for an eon if need be.

Luckily, he needn't wait so long. Two passing travelers took notice of the still-invisible spirit. Their presence was familiar, but in his struggle, he could not figure out who they were.

"That's odd," one of them mused. "Spirits normally do a bit more… fluttering, yeah?"

The other voice, this one higher, murmured, "'Tis struggling to form, for its body cannot hold its energy."

A moment's pause. Then, with a hint of anxiety, "Are you sure you can do this?"

"I am okay," the other one said soothingly. "With you by my side, I can overcome anything."

"I don't think that's how it works," the first voice grumbled, but nonetheless relented. "So, if there's too much energy, then what about…"

"Your essence-splitting theory? I see no reason not to." Then, a bit playfully, she asked, "Shall we dance, my love?"

"We shall, my star."

The spirit perceived a whirlwind of mana, swirling around him and reconstructing his very being. Reality itself bent to the will of these two gods, but he was not afraid.

For the first time, he felt love, and he became a great spirit.

Wary but excited, the spirit opened his eyes for the first time. In front of him, shining like they came from the heavens above, were two beings of light. One of them was a gleaming beacon of love. Silver hair, as bright as the moon. Amethyst eyes, like a polished jewel. The Od Laguna itself could not match her beauty, for her soul was pure and kind.

However, her soul was also mangled. To think that such perfection could be marred by an evil touch…

At her side was a man of shifting appearance. His magic – or perhaps it was hers – tried to provide a false image full of the world's love, but the spirit saw through it. He had dark hair and sharp features that bore eyes shining with power. Those eyes were filled with the world's loathing: the opposite of the woman beside him.

Man and woman, loathed and loved, were equally favored by the Od Laguna, and both wore its sacred symbol on a pendant around their necks. The spirit was truly honored to be in their presence.

The earth spirit opened his mouth – for these gods have granted him a face – and tentatively spoke his first words. "Thank you."

The man cheered, for they had succeeded in saving the spirit. The woman smiled fondly, both at the spirit's survival and the man's childish antics. The spirit cried, for it was alive.

Upon seeing the spirit's tears, the two softened their eyes. "Are you all right?" the woman asked in concern.

Such genuine concern was surely not possible. The sensitive spirit sniffled and admitted, "Your kindness… It's too much. Your beautiful souls overwhelm my meager one."

"Happy tears, huh?" the man mused distantly. Then, changing the subject, "What's your name, spirit?"

The spirit regained composure and thought for a moment. He had never received a name from the Od Laguna. Perhaps these two were meant to give it? So, he told them, "You have granted me new life. My name is in your hands."

The two remained silent, neither willing to speak hastily. Then, as one, they said:

"Betelgeuse Romanée-Conti."
"Pimsy."

The man gave her an incredulous look. "Pimsy," he deadpanned. "You thought for an entire minute to create a grand, eloquent name, and you came up with… 'Pimsy.'"

She flushed, mumbling, "I wanted to use the 'P' sound…"

With an exaggerated sigh, he conceded, "Petelgeuse, then. Geuse for short."

She gave him a sideways glance. "Pimsy is a bad name, but 'Juice' is acceptable?"

"That's not –" He cut himself off with a shake of his head before looking at the spirit expectantly. "How does 'Geuse' sound?"

Geuse's brilliant smile was enough of an answer.

The woman bit her lip, suddenly nervous – Geuse couldn't understand why an angel would feel meek before an inferior being. Trading glances with the man, she eventually asked the spirit, "Since you don't seem to have anywhere else to go, would you like to stay with us?" Upon seeing the look on his face, she hastily added, "A-after all, 'tis unfair to leave you impoverished and alone! It's only… only… o-oh..."

But Geuse had already fallen to his knees, crying tears of gratitude.

He didn't know how to properly thank them. No one had taught him, for he was only a few days old. What could he do? What should he say?

He wished for elegance, but all that came out was, "What are your names?"

The woman smiled, and Geuse felt salvation all over again. Like a silver bell, she chimed, "My name is Satella, though you may have heard of my moniker, 'The Sorceress.'"

"Truly loved by the world and its people."
"A miracle healer, capable of anything."
"A woman of pure kindness and selflessness."

He had heard tales of the Sorceress indeed.

If she was the Sorceress, then the man beside her must be…

"A warrior of infinite strength."
"A man of endless compassion."
"The one to save us all."

With his appearance ever-changing but his soul burning bright, the man smiled and said, "My name is Flugel, though some people decided to call me 'The Sage.'"

Even without the titles, he would have known them, for their existence was intrinsic to his being. As easily as breathing, he vowed to serve them for the rest of his days.

In his short life, Geuse had learned happiness, protection, and love.

As he stared into the eyes of his saviors, he realized that he would soon learn what a family meant.

In a flurry of power, the Sorceress and the Sage each laid a hand on Geuse's shoulder, and he instinctively closed his eyes as they were whisked away to a place unknown.

When Geuse's eyes fluttered open, he gaped at the sight before him. A mansion, larger than any abode he had ever seen before.

So, this was where gods lived.

Apparently, this mansion belonged to the Mathers family, and they had given it to Echidna – "a nasty Witch" – but, due to the unexplained obsession of an evil man, she would never come back here.

With a rueful chuckle, the Sage said, "Honestly, after all the shit Echidna put us through, we kinda earned this place."

Geuse nodded furiously. The Sorceress, for her part, didn't seem to know if she should wholeheartedly agree or vehemently disagree.

Suddenly, the air was disturbed by an enthusiastic woman's call. "Master! Other Mother!" the voice cried. "I thought you were never coming back!"

The front doors of the mansion had burst open, and a scantily clad woman with brown, braided hair barreled out. Geuse tensed, preparing to defend his saviors, when the Sage spread his arms wide and embraced the newcomer. He held her tight and laughed merrily, saying, "We've only been gone two days, Shaula."

"But that's so looong," Shaula whined. "It's so boring without Master here, yep!"

She deliberately dragged his arm closer to her bosom, only to be interrupted by the Sorceress clearing her throat and chiding, "Shaula, dear, no groping my husband."

So, they were married. How fitting.

With great reluctance, Shaula released the Sage's arm, completely unabashed. In lieu of apologizing, she bounded over to the Sorceress, crushing the other woman in a hug.

As Shaula cried happy tears in the arms of her "Other Mother," Geuse couldn't help but notice that her soul felt like the Sage's true self. It was not overwhelmingly powerful like the Sage's soul, nor was it akin to the weaker, pungent taste of a mabeast. It was something… greater, yet somehow innocent and pure. Her soul stunk of the world's loathing but held a father's love.

The Sage smiled at the sight of the two women hugging, but he tore his eyes away to gesture at Geuse, guiding the spirit inside. Stepping inside the opulent foyer, Geuse began, "Oh, Impeccable Sage –"

"It's just Flugel," the other man interrupted. "I love nicknames and aliases, but people are really hyping me up to be someone I'm not."

Geuse would be the first to disagree, and there was no chance he would refer to this being without some sort of honorific. Eventually, he took inspiration from the energetic woman outside, and he rephrased his question by cautiously saying, "Master Flugel…"

The man raised his eyebrows but accepted the title as if he knew that Geuse wouldn't negotiate further.

"...why did you take me in?"

Geuse knew what they had told him, but it wasn't that simple, was it? He had seen many great acts of kindness, but no man actually gives their neighbor permanent shelter on a whim.

Unfazed, Master Flugel answered, "Ella already told you; you didn't have shelter. We're not gonna just leave you to rot, you know?" Ignoring the spirit's expression, he stopped at a wooden door and explained, "This will be your room. Let me know if you're not a fan, and we'll make some adjustments or find you a new one."

For what felt like the thousandth time, Geuse burst into tears.

Master Flugel awkwardly patted Geuse's back as he quietly grumbled, "You know, anime protagonists are usually crap at consoling women, but I'm pretty good with Ella. With you? Not a clue. Am I some weird subversion of the trope?"

Geuse had no idea what the man was talking about, but he didn't care. This man saved his life, gifted him with a name, and provided him with a home. The Sage could spout whatever nonsense he wished, for Geuse would follow him anyway.

The next morning, Geuse met with the Sorceress, who greeted him with a brilliant smile.

"You're not like other great spirits," the Sorceress explained. "Because you had so much excess energy, we had to modify your Od; now, you can splinter off your essence into a vessel. This will allow you to maintain your form for long periods of time without spontaneously combusting."

Geuse wasn't sure what that meant but nonetheless, he complimented, "You birth truly ingenious ideas, Lady Satella."

She faltered at the word "birth" but soon smiled at the nickname, for it was much better than "The Goddess of Magic."

"'Twas my husband's idea," she corrected. "He claims that 'tis merely his body of magic, but the truth is that he's quite creative and intelligent."

Geuse gave a wry grin. "That's the impression I received from him, yes."

Lady Satella smiled and, as the love of the world spewed forth, he once again wondered why her soul was so damaged.

Before he could ask, she brought them back on track, instructing him, "The splinters of your essence will be placed amongst ten people, allowing you to maintain full control. We shall choose them today."

That sounded like possession, and he didn't like that. Frowning deeply, he asked, "Is that not a violation of their freedom?"

Her eyes softened at his concern. "Do not worry," she soothed. "It will be purely consensual, and you shall be granting them new life."

He wanted to protest that he had never heard of consensual possession, but her hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Trust me," she said firmly before whisking him away to places unknown.

They appeared in front of a decrepit wooden cabin. Judging by the putrid smell of decaying flesh, it was either a morgue or a poorly funded hospital. Pitying the unfortunate souls within, he turned to Lady Satella only to feel panic for the first time.

She was on her hands and knees, gasping for breath between retches. The stench of iron filled the air as she vomited blood, eventually collapsing face-first into a pool of her own fluids. Her amethyst eyes, normally bright jewels filled with mirth, glazed over with pain as she stared at nothing.

In an instant, Geuse was at her side, utterly helpless. He knew no water magic, and, as such, could not heal her. At a loss, he placed a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to soothe her.

He did not cry, for he felt no joy.

Eventually, she pushed herself up on shaking arms, leaning against the wooden cabin. She lightly thunked against it, but Geuse couldn't tell if it was from exhaustion or frustration.

He knew how strong she was, both physically and magically. However, as he gazed at her pallid skin and trembling muscles, he couldn't help but ponder the mortality of the goddess before him.

She leaned her head against his shoulder with a long, drawn-out sigh, and he unconsciously wrapped a comforting arm around her. With unfathomable levels of self-hatred, she murmured, "Pathetic, is it not? I am unable to perform even the simplest of spells without collapsing."

Masking his worry, he calmly responded, "I would not call teleportation a simple spell, my lady." Then, unable to hide his curiosity, he asked, "Why did that happen?"

She turned into his shoulder, blocking out the cold gaze of the world around her. "I'm dying, Geuse," she whispered, breaking his heart in the process. He had known it from the moment that he saw her blood spewing from her prone form, but it still tortured him to hear it. To think that this strong, kind woman was both the one who had saved him and the one who preemptively lamented her demise.

If he was being honest, he had his suspicions. After only one day spent with them, it was clear that Master Flugel treated his wife like glass, and he constantly checked up on her condition. It was only natural that there was a cause for it. Even so, it was difficult to believe that the Sorceress was capable of perishing.

They sat there for some time, merely listening to the whispers in the wind. He closed his eyes and felt the earth beneath him, letting his element overtake his senses.

'Earth, grant me strength,' he prayed. 'Od Laguna, grant me fortitude.'

He would need it if he were to protect Lady Satella from her sorrows.

Eventually, she lifted her face off his shoulder and wiped her eyes. Quietly, she entreated him, "Do not tell my husband what happened."

Geuse frowned deeply, asking, "Why not? Perhaps Master Flugel could –"

"He cannot help," she cut off sharply. "He is looking for a cure, but his methods encroach upon the well-being of others. If he knew that I felt more than mere fatigue…"

Geuse didn't fully understand; he believed his master to be endlessly compassionate, but Lady Satella hinted that there was more to it. Could it be that Master Flugel's overprotectiveness held a darker side?

She stood up slowly, rejecting his offer to help. "I'm not some fragile maiden," she insisted, despite having leaned on him mere moments prior. Changing the subject, she reminded him, "We are here to delegate your essence, remember? Please, follow me inside."

He frowned yet again, but he would always willingly walk in her shadow.

The wooden cabin was as shabby on the inside as it was the outside, filled with moth-eaten cots and groaning patients. No doctor was in sight.

This was not a place of healing, but a grave for the unknown and unloved.

Lady Satella strode forward, all traces of her prior exhaustion having disappeared upon entry. "Hello," she said. It was a simple introduction, but her bell-like voice was enough to garner everyone's attention. "I apologize for intruding. I am –"

"The Sorceress," one of the men breathed. "Why, I never… You're even more stunning than the legends describe."

She looked distinctly uncomfortable, and her eyes flicked to the door as if she wanted nothing more than to escape his admiring eyes. Roughly pulling her sleeves down, she cleared her throat and announced, "Yes, I am the one whom you call the Sorceress. My associate and I are here to grant you a new life."

Slowly but surely, their eyes dragged to Geuse and he shifted uncomfortably. He had never felt so many gazes upon him at once, and especially not ones of such intensity. Meekly, he raised his hand and introduced himself. "I am Geuse."

'How eloquent,' he thought mockingly. Surely, Master Flugel's entrance would have been far grander.

Apparently, those before him thought the same. "Where is the Sage?" they asked. "Why bring a man we have not heard about?"

Lady Satella frowned. "I had not heard of you," she pointed out. "'Twas merely the village elder that guided me to your location, yet here I am, giving you my time and energy. If I can respect your elder's recommendation, then surely you can respect mine."

At that, they had no words, so she continued. "Geuse is a great spirit, but his energy is unstable. His essence needs to be split into multiple physical bodies… and that's where you come in." Slowly, as if to emphasize that she wasn't forcing anything upon them, she said, "If you take our offer, then your bodies will be filled with life, revitalizing you. However, if Geuse's body dies, one of you will become his new body until he takes control of another one."

'Mere backup bodies,' Geuse thought bitterly. No one could possibly want –

"I'll do it."

Geuse's head shot up and he stared slack-jawed at a young man – no more than twenty-two-years-old. It wasn't possible for someone to actually consider this, right?

Stubbornly, the young man said, "I am the bastard child of a man and an elf. I have been disowned for my dirty blood. I am dying of a fever, and I anxiously await my end." With a grim smile, he wryly asked, "Now you enter, offering to not just heal me but to give me a purpose. I'd be a fool to decline."

In the dilapidated cabin, the patients – who numbered ten in total – expressed their approval of Lady Satella's plan. Each one of them was offered to be healed with no conditions, but they all declined. They turned to Geuse, anxiously awaiting their new life, new purpose, new family.

With tears in his eyes, Geuse reached deep into his soul and gave them each a part of himself, forming a contract with ten others. As he watched life return to the fallen, he couldn't help but think back to the previous night.

"Master Flugel," Geuse had asked, "Why have you named me as you have?"

They stood in the garden, letting the chill of the night wash over them. "You're named after two things from my homeland," Master Flugel reminisced. "Your second name, 'Romanée-Conti,' comes from an alcoholic beverage."

Geuse eyed his master strangely. "Alcohol?" he had asked in utter bewilderment.

"Alcohol," Master Flugel had confirmed. "Back in my homeland, I was in an alleyway, and I came across a new – like, completely untouched – bottle of Romanée-Conti. I thought to myself, 'What the hell is this doing here?' I mean, Romanée-Conti is literally the nicest, most expensive brand of alcohol on the planet, and it was just laying there."

There was more to the tale, but Master Flugel trailed off, lost in memories. Geuse had indulged him for a moment, but eventually asked, "What about my first name?"

Master Flugel turned to him, color-shifting eyes merging with the true dark-brown as he flatly said, "Betelgeuse is the Hand of Orion."

Geuse didn't know what that meant, but as he stared at the ten men and women before him, he knew what he would call his new family. Letting the tears fall, he whispered, "It is an honor to meet you, my Fingers."

Once again, Geuse's life began anew.

Although his essence had been split among the Fingers, even a tenth of his generosity and goodwill was enough to send them traveling around the world, helping those in need by providing goods and services. However, Geuse himself was always the leader for a certain task.

With a blue pyroxene crystal around his neck, Geuse and his Fingers trekked through a forest. The trees were enchanted to make travelers lose their way, but his group had been placed under the protection of Master Flugel, and as such were unaffected.

They broke through a clearing and came to the entrance of the village, where they greeted one of the highest-ranked members of the Sanctuary: a blonde child with butterfly pupils and a perpetual frown. Her eyes, glassy with loneliness and grief, lit up ever-so-slightly when they fell upon Geuse, but it quickly diminished.

"Took you long enough, I suppose," the girl grouched. "Betty has already read all the books from last time, in fact."

Geuse smiled at the characteristic greeting. "It is good to see you, Miss Beatrice," he said politely. "I trust you are well?"

She was not well, and they both knew that.

Geuse did not know the full history of Master Flugel and Lady Satella, but he knew that they had once been acquainted with Miss Beatrice. He also knew that they were ruled by fear and did not wish to reveal themselves to her. So, they sent Geuse in their stead, under the guise of giving supplies.

It was a shame. Perhaps Miss Beatrice would smile if she saw them.

There was another reason he came, one that caused his lieges great pain and anger. Hiding his inner thoughts, he asked, "How is Miss Echidna?"

Echidna, the Witch of Greed. Apparently, she was the root of much suffering for Lady Satella. He didn't know what kind of being would dare harm an angel, a goddess, but he was afraid of meeting her.

Geuse also had suspicions about his master. Master Flugel often concealed a great physical pain in his torso, and it was exacerbated whenever Geuse gave his report on Echidna.

Miss Beatrice's face fell, taking him out of his thoughts. "Mother is still sleeping, in fact," she said morosely. A few years prior, Echidna had battled a powerful foe, and she was recovering her strength to this day. She was almost never awake for more than a minute at a time. "Roswaal said that she was roused from her slumber to confront an annoying pest, but neither of us saw who it was."

"I see," Geuse muttered. How odd that Master Flugel avoided this place like the plague but would also sneak inside to face the root of his anger. Geuse couldn't help but wonder if the contradictory actions were the result of an inability to face his past, but he had never claimed to understand the mind of a god. Changing the subject, he asked, "Before we go, is there anything else we can do for you?"

Miss Beatrice was quiet for several moments. Then, at length, "Betty does not understand why, but the children wish to hear more stories, I suppose."

Geuse gave her a thin smile. That, he could do.

And so, they walked into the village and gathered the Sanctuary's occupants, all of which enthusiastically greeted Geuse as they awaited his tales. Enraptured, they heard of the kindness of the Sorceress, and those she healed. In awe, they were told of the mighty feats of the Sage, and those he protected with his strength.

Miss Beatrice half-heartedly complained but was as interested as the rest.

It was twilight when Geuse and his Fingers left. As always, there was not much to report; Echidna was mostly inactive, and Miss Beatrice was safe, albeit sad. The Sanctuary occupants were –

"What a marvelous story."

From within the trees, a woman of ethereal beauty stepped out, her platinum hair swaying in an unseen wind. Her sapphire eyes exuded innocence, yet Geuse couldn't help but feel that his very existence was in peril.

"Who are you?" he asked guardedly. "I did not see you amongst the residents."

She smiled knowingly. "I was always there. Your eyes must have deceived you." Then, with a wistful sigh, "The love and adoration in your voice as you spoke… I can see that you truly admire them."

Geuse said nothing.

"I revere them," she continued. "Sometimes, it is nice to relax and listen to a tale about your favorite people, is it not?"

Geuse somehow doubted that the being before him knew what relaxing was. Cautiously, he probed, "What do you want from them?"

But the woman did not answer his question. She merely smiled and said, "Goods and services deserve proper compensation, correct? I suppose I shall provide you with some transportation."

With that, she waved goodbye and –

He blinked up at the mansion. The trip home must have really flown by, for it was already morning. His Fingers seemed just as befuddled, but Geuse was likely just misreading their expressions; he was quite young and inexperienced, after all.

He walked inside the mansion, but, immediately after opening the door, he was accosted by Master Flugel, who ordered, "We need to leave, right now."

In other words, a monster had been spotted.

Geuse wasn't much use in a fight, for what was low-level earth magic compared to the might of the Sage? However, he was often brought along for first aid and managing collateral damage.

Mentally preparing himself, he gave a sharp nod but said nothing.

Master Flugel's gaze was stern, but his eyes showed a glimmer of appreciation. His power gathered in the air, but suddenly stopped as he asked, "How's Beatrice?"

Geuse allowed himself a small smile. "The same as before," he answered evenly.

Master Flugel flinched but did not respond verbally. Instead, he lightly squeezed Geuse's shoulder, and they appeared in a forest.

Almost immediately after, an earthquake shook the land. If it were anyone but the Sage and an earth spirit, they would have fallen.

Master Flugel cursed. "It's him," he spat. "I can feel his aura. That bastard's been attacking villages left and right, but he's always gone by the time I get there."

Geuse's eyes narrowed slightly. "Then we must make haste," he said evenly. He did not know who his Master was referring to, but he would not let the villain escape so easily.

They ran into the thicket, struggling to stay on a straight path; every earthquake increased in strength and threatened to knock them off their feet.

"Figures she's here, too," Master Flugel grumbled. "I know she has a weird soft spot for the elves, but damn it, she's just gonna make things worse! What, does she have something against asking me for help?"

Geuse didn't understand his master's ramblings, but that was nothing new.

Bursting into a clearing, Geuse was overcome with the stench of miasma. He and his master froze, watching the scene in awe.

Two beings of unfathomable power stared each other down. One was a blonde-haired, blue-eyed woman filled with anger. The other was a lethargic man of dark hair and amber eyes; he was surrounded by a strange, purple hue that made him feel out of place in the world.

The woman pointed at the man with righteous fury and condemned him, shouting, "I am the protector of this forest, and I shall not allow harm to befall its people! Begone, devil!"

The man slouched over with a long, drawn-out sigh. "This is suuuch a pain," he grumbled slowly. "I don't even waaant to be here."

If anything, his lackadaisical attitude seemed to infuriate the woman further. She darted towards him at impossible speeds and punched him straight in the face. He flew backward and smashed into a tree, but, if anything, he looked refreshed; a bit of color had returned to his pale, sullen cheeks.

Seeing that her punches had no effect, the woman repeatedly stomped on the ground, creating earthquakes whine leveling the clearing. "My Authority is stupid!" she shouted to the sky. "It makes me so angry! Utterly furious! Unbelievably pissed off! Absolutely –"

"Can you stop it already?" the man whined. As she continued ranting, he gave another sigh…

…and the woman collapsed to the ground, the force of it creating a massive crater.

"Such a pain," he mumbled, doubling the force of his attack with every word. "I hate this. I'm so done. Can we stooop? It's so annoying."

The woman tried to punch herself, but another strike snapped her throat in two, halting her movements. She drowned in a pool of her own blood, resembling a twisted mess of flesh more than a human.

The entire assault lasted only a few seconds.

After it was over, the man sighed for what felt like an eternity. "This is so depressing," he grumbled. "Why couldn't she just –"

Suddenly, he froze… and looked straight at Geuse.

"An intruuuder?" he groaned. "Such a pain, pain, pain."

An invisible force slammed Geuse into the ground, crushing him with the weight of a thousand suns. There was nothing he could do but scream in agony as his body begged for mercy. All of his bones disintegrated into dust as his organs splattered about.

Finally, Master Flugel shook himself of his stupor and entered the fray. "That's enough, devil," he spat. "For the murder of hundreds, no, thousands of innocents, I sentence you to death."

Upon hearing his voice, the blonde woman stirred and weakly cried out, "No… You can't be here… I promised her..."

Hiding his concern, Master Flugel responded, "Quiet, Minerva. You should know by now that by fighting this thing, you're doing more harm than good."

She coughed and sputtered, but she managed to raise a shaking fist and tapped it to her cheek, somehow healing all of her wounds. Immediately after, she dashed to Geuse and healed him, too. She turned to Master Flugel and was about to retort, but the evil man cut her off with a moan of despair. "That huuurts, you know, calling me names," he mumbled. "I've tried to bait you out for yeeaars, but you're always so slow. It takes foreeever for you to come, and it's suuuch a pain, so I just leave… Killing is sooo tiring… I hate doing it… Now, I fiiinally see you, and the first thing you do is call me a 'thing'? That's just so… depreeessing. There's no point to it all. So many tries, and it's all the saaame."

Master Flugel was not one to listen to a madman's ramblings. Scathingly, he said, "Silence, Hector. For your crimes, I sentence you to death."

Most would cower in fear upon hearing the Sage speak in such a tone, but Hector merely slouched further. Any more and he would be languishing on the floor. "Not this agaaiin," he groaned, dragging out his words. "There's no escaaape… It's always the saaame… Such a pain, pain, pain, pain, pain…"

But Master Flugel would not feel pity for such a miserable creature. The air smelled of ozone as electricity and magic danced to the Sage's song. From a cloudless sky, a bolt of lightning struck Hector head-on, leaving a charred carcass in his place.

Closing his eyes in relief, Master Flugel turned to –

"That's so mean… It's so depressing… Such a paaain… You always do that…"

Master Flugel gasped in shock. No one had ever withstood that attack before, yet Hector persisted. The purple barrier around him had absorbed all the damage, and any aesthetic blemishes were quickly disappearing.

Taken aback, Master Flugel asked, "Who are you?"

Hector's cheeks sunk even further into his skull. "The Witch of Melancholy," he responded. He scratched his neck and amended, "Er, Warlock, I guess… It's such a paaain, having to say that extra syllable… I haaate it… "

Regaining a bit of his composure, Master Flugel rebuked, "I know your title, devil. I'm wondering how you could survive that attack!"

Hector's frown deepened further. In a voice as flat as ever, he stated. "She won't let me die to anyooone else. I'm stuck here, listening to her, and it's such a paaain, and I hate it, and I just –"

Master Flugel growled at the non-answer and let loose a barrage of lightning and fire, all of it targeted at the otherworldly being before him.

But Hector would not die.

Eventually, Master Flugel stopped his assault, panting from the exertion. He struggled with himself as if debating which question to ask. Then, finally, "Why aren't you running away?"

Hector locked eyes with Master Flugel, and clearly stated, "Because there's nothing left for us in this world." Then, with a hint of compassion, he asked, "Won't you feel the same way when your wife dies?"

Bad idea.

One moment, the Warlock of Melancholy stood before them. The next, a massive black door had taken his place. Hellish designs were carved into it, and a solitary keyhole laid in the center. The air in the clearing became still and the surrounding flora turned white.

Lady Satella had become a sensitive subject as of late.

Master Flugel clenched his fist around an invisible object as his entire body shook. Turning to Minerva, he demanded to know, "Why didn't you tell us about Hector? I had to find out because of a massive influx of souls to the Od Laguna!"

She forced herself to her feet and glared at him; despite the godlike feat he had just displayed, she would stand her ground. "Just leave, Flugel." She said it scathingly but refused to meet his gaze. "You're not supposed to be here."

"I don't even know where 'here' is!" he pointed out with a snarl. "Why the hell are you being so cruel, anyway? I thought we were friends!"

Tears brimmed in her eyes as she clenched her fists in frustration. "Just leave, Flugel," she echoed, but there was no bite to it. "You're not supposed to be here."

They argued for a bit longer, neither relenting. At length, Minerva stomped her feet and shouted, "Just ask your wife, all right!"

For what felt like an eternity, silence reigned. Then, like a whisper in the wind, Geuse heard a voice that he had never heard before.

"Ella's… been hiding things from me?"

It was Master Flugel, and he was heartbroken.

Minerva huffed, but could not meet his eyes. "Just leave, Flugel."

He folded in on himself but managed to say, "At least tell me if there's anyone else here. They might need some healing after Hector's attack."

Noticing his emotional state, she walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. He flinched as if the action hurt him but seemed to calm somewhat. Quietly, as if speaking to a damaged child, she reminded him, "I'm the Witch of Wrath. I can handle it."

He took a deep breath. "You're right," he murmured. "Silly me. I know nothing about anything."

"That's not –"

He held up a hand and did not let her finish, for some things could not be healed with her Authority.

Master Flugel walked towards the now-standing Geuse but froze before they could meet. Out of the trees, a girl's face warily peered out. Neither of the two men had seen the child before, but they easily deduced who it was.

Silver hair and amethyst eyes. Half of the Sorceress's soul, except this one was patched together by unknown magic. An unfamiliar face, but it held the same love of the world.

Geuse now fully understood why Lady Satella was dying… and why this place was hidden from his master.

Master Flugel's breath hitched. "So, that's what she's hiding," he muttered to himself, his voice little more than a whisper. "How little does she think of me?" he asked Minerva, his gaze still fixed on the young, silver-haired girl.

She did not respond, for they all saw the hint of greed in his desperate gaze. All they could do was hope the kind soul behind the eyes would come back.

He did not. He merely spiraled further.

It was not merely Geuse and Lady Satella that noticed Master Flugel's dark behavior. One evening, Shaula came to Geuse, utterly silent. It was not surprising that she knew it was him, even though he had not used this body before. After all, even though she claimed it was merely her sense of smell, he knew that Shaula had the same ability to see souls.

He reached out a hand and comfortingly grasped her shoulder, knowing that she appreciated physical contact. "Is something the matter?" he asked gently, well aware that this was not her typical behavior.

For a time, she did not speak. He was content to wait, for great spirits were creatures of patience. Then, at length, "What's happening to Master?"

Her voice was small, like a child. Not for the first time, it truly hit him that she was only two and a half years old.

It also reminded him that he was even younger than her, but that was beside the point.

"Master Flugel is grieving," he explained patiently.

"But... no one died," Shaula said with a frown. He couldn't help but berate himself for marring her face with his callous words. Then, she lit up with a smile, and the world was all right for a moment. "Everything is okay, yep! One day, Master will return, and he'll love me, yep!"

Geuse didn't have the heart to tell her otherwise.

Afterward, he went to his master's study for his daily visit. For over a year, Master Flugel had taught him of the wonderful world in which they lived, though they sometimes discussed their loved ones. Nowadays, however, they did not discuss magic, stars, politics, current events, the Od Laguna, Shaula, Daphne, Minerva, the other Witches, or anything of that sort. Geuse merely sat there and watched over the older man as he worked furiously.

"Can't do that," Master Flugel mumbled. "The exact method is too similar to The Ordeal. What about…"

He scribbled something down and grimaced. "This might work," he mused, though his fingers trembled slightly. "I could just use some prisoners, right? That way, we –"

A hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Remember your promise to Lady Satella," Geuse said softly. "No others are to be harmed in any way."

Underneath the spirit's hand, Master Flugel's entire body shook. "They're prisoners," he said with a scowl. "Murderers, rapists, slave traffickers: the worst of the worst."

"A life is a life," Geuse patiently reminded him, for that was the lesson bestowed upon the spirit by Lady Satella.

Master Flugel visibly deflated. "And this is my wife," he whispered brokenly. "She's worth so much more than a random criminal."

But Lady Satella would be unhappy if her life was traded for another.

Geuse worried that one day, Master Flugel would stop caring.

Months later, Geuse found himself face-to-face an unspeakable abomination… who also happened to be a dear friend: Daphne, the Witch of Gluttony.

Morosely, he asked if she had come to pay her respects to Lady Satella.

"Nope. Tella-Tella is fine," the girl said flippantly. Her Centipede Coffin danced hauntingly in the foyer of the mansion as she excitedly exclaimed, "Tella-Tella has lots more to eat, so she can't die yet!"

Geuse wished he could share in her enthusiasm. Trying to change the subject to something more light-hearted, he said, "If I may ask, how are –"

But she didn't listen. Her frenzied tap dance intensified as she began to drool. "Flu-Flu is hungry," she stated with a fanged grin. "Like my bunny, he'll keep searching for his meal. If he doesn't get it, he'll eat himself alive."

'How callous,' Geuse thought bitterly, but he could not deny it. Not for the first time, he cursed himself for his wavering faith in Master Flugel. Not for the last time, he wished he could have saved his master from unending sorrow.

He bade goodbye to Daphne, who left for the Pleiades Watchtower. Lost in thought, he made his way to the master bedroom where Lady Satella slept alone.

Master Flugel would not visit her, for he was still searching for a cure. Greedy and gluttonous indeed, to put his own desires over the comfort of his wife.

Geuse sat on the edge of the bed with a sigh as he admired Lady Satella's visage. Her silver hair shone as bright as ever, and her amethyst eyes revealed a beautiful soul.

He didn't know what would happen to the world when the Sorceress passed. Would her soul meet with its other half? Would it be born anew? Would the Od Laguna hold on to it until there was another fitting vessel?

He wished that she would stay with them a little while longer. He didn't know what he'd do without her, especially now that Master Flugel had been lost to desperation.

He gently gripped her hand, brushing the back of it with his thumb and trying to grant her some level of comfort. He eyed the silver ring on her finger. Once upon a time, the amethyst would have shone in the firelight. He wished to return to those halcyon days.

It felt so... wrong. Master Flugel was supposed to be there, not a lowly spirit. The Sorceress and the Sage were supposed to watch over the land for an eternity, not wither away and die.

Geuse wished he could do more for them. He would spend his life making up for his uselessness.

He tried to stand, but a pale arm shot out and grasped his hand. Like a broken silver bell, quietly ringing out into the darkness, she whispered, "Subaru?"

Geuse's heart broke, for Lady Satella had lost her grasp of reality. She couldn't even call out the name of her husband. Nonetheless, he answered, "I'm right here."

He didn't have the heart to tell her the truth.

With glassy eyes and a wavering smile, she raised her hand up to his cheek. "You came back," she said softly, happily. Then, with confusion, she asked, "Why are you crying, my love?"

Eventually, he managed to choke out, "Because… I don't want you to die. I don't know what I'd do without you."

He had not thought himself capable of crying in sadness, yet here he was.

With that, he left her side, and could only watch as the world fell to pieces.

Mere weeks after the Witch of Envy's sealing, Geuse sat at a simple, wooden table, a glass of wine in his shaking hands. He did not drink it; it was merely used to commemorate those that had fallen in the calamity. They could not list names, for there were nearly fifty million of them. Even so, Geuse gave a silent toast to Lady Satella. He dared not speak her name aloud, for in front of him was his master.

Master Flugel did not look a day over twenty, but he was not the same man, either. Gone was the compassionate hero who saved the life of a random spirit. Gone was the relentless researcher, desperate to save his wife. Gone was the Sage, the indomitable warrior who defeated the Witch of Envy.

In his place sat a broken man, wasting away in his tower, unable to face the future.

Master Flugel drowned his seventh cup of wine – one for each Witch, most likely – but it was clear that he was as sober as ever. With a heaving sigh, he tossed his glass to the side, not bothering to watch as it shattered against the wall.

Despite the pathetic state Master Flugel was in, Geuse refused to leave his side. It was not merely because of those dark eyes; Geuse knew of the man that lied beneath the sorrow. He loved his master, for the man had given him life.

He was a spirit born of the Od Laguna, and he would serve the Sage and the Sorceress, for it was his calling.

Master Flugel knew that and gave his final instructions. Geuse would follow them until his master's return. Some would call it entrapment, but Geuse called it his duty.

"Betelgeuse."

He was taken out of his thoughts as Master Flugel spoke, the once-strong voice cracked from disuse. With pursed lips, Geuse corrected, "It's Petelguese."

He would not forget Lady Satella's wishes so easily.

Master Flugel did not bother to correct himself. Instead, he began his final lesson, telling the legend of Orion the Hunter.

Orion was an archer of such skill, he could rival the gods themselves. During one of his hunts, he met and fell in love with a woman of silver: Artemis, the Maiden Goddess of the Moon and the Hunt.

However, not all approved of their love, and a scorpion was sent after Orion, killing the Hunter. In grief, Artemis begged her father, the God of the Sky and Thunder, to turn Orion into a constellation. And so, the stars welcomed their new brethren: Orion the Hunter, containing Betelgeuse, and Scorpius the Scorpion, containing Shaula. It is said that they shone so brightly because Artemis held infinite sorrow.

"I am like Orion," Master Flugel said bitterly. "I spent my days chasing a woman of silver, but, in the end, I only brought her grief."

Geuse wanted to deny it, but he couldn't. Instead, he asked, "Why did you name Shaula after the creature that killed Orion?"

Master Flugel gave a wry grin, and Geuse rejoiced, for a bit of his old master was showing through. With a bit of mirth, the older man said, "Well, I always wanted to be that silly father who would say things like, 'my daughter will be the death of me.'"

A moment later, the spark of life disappeared, and Master Flugel's eyes became glassy once more. "I guess you could say I'm more like Betelgeuse than Orion, actually," he said quietly. "The Hand of Orion had killed countless innocent creatures."

Drowning in memories, Master Flugel changed the subject. "Romanée-Conti. The finest, rarest, most expensive wine from my homeland. I was a man with nothing to my name, and I could never dream of having it."

He held out his hand as if mimicking the action of holding a bottle. "And yet, there it was… right there in the alleyway I slept. A pristine, unopened bottle of Romanée-Conti."

He grimaced as his hand formed a strange shape. "Beside it was a loaded gun, a modern weapon for the Hand of Orion."

Geuse didn't know what that was, but he didn't like how his master spoke of it.

Master Flugel's eyes lost their focus as his voice lowered to a whisper. "I had nothing. No hope, family, nor friends. It was just me and a bottle of wine, topped off with a journey through an endless void."

He sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that night. "It was all so… perfect. It was like it was a gift, telling me 'happy travels,' or maybe 'have a good journey.' Every day, I'm grateful to whoever allowed me that escape, even as I curse them for enabling me."

Geuse didn't fully understand, but he saw the deep pain in his master's eyes, and he wished for nothing more than to rid Master Flugel of his sorrow.

Reaching for another bottle of wine before remembering he had already shattered his glass, Master Flugel reminisced, "Years ago, you asked me why I gave you your name."

Geuse nodded. It was one of his first full conversations with his master. "You had only told me what it meant. I still do not know why."

He met the eyes of the Sage: the man who called him a friend, but he could only call a master. As if it were obvious, the once-great man explained, "It's because you and I are the same."

Geuse stiffened but let his master elaborate.

"You will love a woman of silver. You will dedicate your life to making her happy. In the end, you will cause her grief. You will be the reason she is dead. You will become a shell of yourself, causing the death of many in your insanity."

With dead eyes, Master Flugel placed the final nail in the coffin. "You will fail in your task. The Hand of Orion will bring ruin to this land, just as I have."

Geuse could have done many things. He could have vehemently denied it, asked for an explanation, or gotten angry. However, he did none of those things, for he firmly believed that Master Flugel was correct.

The Sage was the master of the Od Laguna and all the beings that came from it. He had not given an insult, nor was he projecting his own failings onto the spirit; it was simply a premonition that would undoubtedly come to pass.

Geuse could do nothing but diligently avoid his fate for as long as he could.

With his thoughts spiraling, he stood up, unable to bring himself to say goodbye. Along the way, his eyes dragged over the corner of the room that Daphne had so often perched herself in. He couldn't help but realize that she was right; Master Flugel had eaten too much, and he was no longer himself.

Despite his turbulent emotions, he did not leave the Pleiades Watchtower, for he had one last task to accomplish. He did not know how it would be possible or when he would be capable of completing it, but he would wait an eternity if it would help his masters.

Some days, he visited the spirit of Reid Astrea, but their personalities differed too much to have many productive conversations. The man was coarse and perverted: a representation of his younger years, most likely. Reid simply trained for hours on end, day in and day out; he needed to hone his skill so as to provide a proper trial.

Geuse never stayed long.

Occasionally, he spoke to Volcanica, but the Divine Dragon was no longer lucid. He had been gravely injured in his battle and would likely never speak normally again. Perhaps in a few hundred years, he would heal, but it was unlikely.

He spent most of his time with Shaula, though the poor girl barely noticed his presence. She clung to Master Flugel, asking for the whereabouts of Lady Daphne and Lady Satella.

Master Flugel never answered. He didn't say much of anything anymore; he merely wandered aimlessly and kept to his books.

His entire world was Lady Satella. She kept him sane. They needed each other to maintain balance, both physically and emotionally. Now that she was sealed so close by, yet infinitely far away, he had lost what little remained of his humanity

Then, one night, Geuse heard his master screaming in rage, pain, and grief. His woes, his regret, all were laid bare. Geuse didn't hear the exact words, but he could have sworn he heard Shaula crying.

His heart twisted, and he once again berated himself for being unable to save anyone.

Curses, demands, threats, and coerced promises followed. All compassion fled, leaving a monster behind.

Then, silence reigned.

Mere minutes later, Geuse felt it; the balance of the world shifted, throwing the Od Laguna into disarray. In a panic, he dashed through the Tower and burst into his master's study.

For the first time, he felt rage, though it quickly dissolved into sorrow.

Shaula ran in beside him, falling to her knees in shock before bursting into hysterical tears. She couldn't understand what was happening, but it was clear that it was destroying her.

Geuse kneeled before the crying child – for, right now, she was even younger than him – and pulled her into his shoulder. He gently rubbed her back and tried comforting her, but he knew it was pointless; if anything, he was only comforting himself. Perhaps if he had years, he could do something to help her, but he had mere days remaining before he had to leave.

He told his sister that he loved her. At that moment, it meant nothing to her.

He cursed his master's cruel instructions, for Shaula would be alone in her grief. No one would give her the contact she craved. No one would tell her that they loved her. She would await a master that would never come, and he would watch over a bloodline that couldn't hope to imitate its progenitor.

'You're a fool, Master Flugel,' he thought as he looked upon that haunted smile. 'A selfish, prideful, slothful fool.'

With that bitter thought, he allowed himself to weep, for the Sage had left the world with a knife in his throat.