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Author's Note : A few years of stats have left me dying to know why so many people stop reading at this specific chapter. Could someone maybe please tell me what exactly about this chapter is such a dealbreaker?

· · · · · · ·

Change usually started by chance and rarely choice, but choices were always required to deal with it. She's known that, really, but it wasn't the first time she had underestimated the severity of something.

The world had outgrown the gods it was born alongside.

Sure, let's incarnate ahead of time. She'd get farther away from Lei Magnus and any possible experiments around him. What could possibly be impractical about it?

They traveled by the cover of night, Ragradia's sharp awareness their guide. Her astral body, albeit small and weak, had all the clarity of a god : the wind on Filia's scales, the clouds that kept their rain, the farms below, and the faraway holy tree she used as light tower. Filia's kenosis was excellent, she could just implant the right direction in her mind. This was easy.

Everything else was not.

All the knowledge she possessed since the world's creation itself could not have prepared her for this, for she only knew existence from the astral reality. Existing on the physical plane was a bloody pain. Hunched on the shaky saddle, she was sleep deprived, her muscles twitched or slacked and she needed to constantly pay attention to her heartbeart and digestion. Naturally born organic creatures had a subconscious side to their mind that took care of those, Ragradia didn't.

The blanket she was huddled in consisted out of hundreds of fibers, which she felt even through her magically created clothes. Avoiding movement was impossible, as they were airborne on a dragon. Ragradia's mortal body was in peak shape, hyper aware of everything and then her astral senses added in. The body's seat of the soul wasn't capable of handling that just yet.

"Claire, want some jam on your bread?" Val asked.

She shook her head, knowing the battle her guts would put up. Either they wouldn't cooperate, or some natural reflex might kick in only to demand she throw up. She ate his happiness instead.

· · · · · · ·

The times they landed to sleep in an inn were the most tolerable, when her body partially paralyzed itself with sleep. She couldn't move away from it on the astral plane, but had an easier time spreading her attention. She needed it both for Rangort's constant questioning and to keep Luna out of Filia's mind. More often than not, she put her body to sleep at what Filia deemed odd places.

That was one reason why having a child's body was useful. Claire was the clumsy silent girl, not the deranged woman to those who saw her. She could be carried around and no humans expected her to be vocal, responsible or otherwise engaged with their society. Zoning out allowed her time to get a hang on creating systems to keep the body functional.

After four days of this, she had herself sorted out well enough to visit Filia's dreams without risk.

· · · · · · ·

Ragradia found herself twice within Filia's dreamscapes. One was a rough representation of her Ragradia form, the other was a cute variant of her Claire form. It jarred Filia when Claire started talking through her in this form, invoking a sort of dissonance with her lifeless expression. Ragradia made note that she had to improve this, put it on the back burner before coming to business.

"I'm going to teach you a magical signature, that of the holy tree in Sailoon, so you may attempt to teleport us there."

"Would you like some tea?" asked a very uneasy Filia as the scenery changed to a cake shop.

"I want to make progress."

"Uhm, alright, but that doesn't mean we can't have some tea," Filia said with forced cheer. She took the role of shop owner and selected a cake. Water started to boil in a kettle. Claire was incapable of impatience, so she observed.

She could tell as much as the embroidery on the curtains. It indicated a highly visual and detail oriented mind. All that focus was on trivial human culture things. Filia was an eccentric dragon, it was easy to see why the gods had pushed her into her role. One needed to be out there very much to get along with Lina Inverse, Xelloss and the other lot.

Claire let go of her projection a little and Filia's imagination took over. In her eyes, children were adorable and needed protection and were preferred to be very happy and carefree. Dream Claire laughed and chowed down on the cake before expressing a preference for strawberries. Ragradia had no such preference, but Filia had seen her accepting to Val's jam enthusiasm. Ragradia liked to eat the enthusiasm, off course.

Filia had devoured 24 cookies with her tea, somehow, and sliced each of them another piece of cake. "Now, how did you intend to teach me about that?"

Through a cake-filled mouth, Claire made her projection say, "I will implant the knowledge through a simulation, as this appears to work best for you. I will also teach you to draw power from the piece of Valwin you have in your soul. It won't be much, but it'll give you a boost."

"Excellent, thank you. I'll be glad to need less garbage to get around. Maybe I can also use that to draw in Luna. She hasn't been around since we left Kataart, I bet that's cause there is less magical resonance here."

"I've kept her away."

"What?"

The shop lost its sunlight and the cakes their color. Outside in the physical world, Claire tasted distress in Filia's miasma. It took her a second to realize why.

Oops, she'd just told a mortal she had isolated her mind from her friends. Right. Bad. No imprisoning mortals, they don't like it.

"Just till I could tell you this, I'll let her in once I've said something very important."

The shop was a little brighter again and Filia's face a little less disturbed. "I hope that includes an explanation on what the scheme being played is."

Dream Claire sighed, Filia already knew she would get no answer.

"I'm sorry, I cannot tell you. I do not think you are skilled enough to keep secrets from her."

The shop broke away and they stood in an ancient temple. Against her intent, Ragradia's form that of the dragon god, hovering in an impossibly large dome over a small but defiant Filia.

"Why should I keep secrets from her?" Filia asked sharply.

"Because she will make the wrong decisions if she knows too much. No harm should come to her, but certain things will have to happen that will make her believe she will die. The logistics speak against it, but if Luna operates on her own law."

"What if I tell her what you told me?"

"That won't matter, she already believes she's in danger. As long as she doesn't know what we plan, she can't counterplan." The words didn't have the desired effect, so she added, "Once we pass a certain point, I will tell both of you all the details."

Filia remained skeptical, her tail swishing like an irritated cat.

Ragradia forced her dream form back to the cute child and had it say, "I promise," with an extra dose of happy face (that might have been hijacked from Xelloss).

"Rangort doesn't know everything either, does he? He thinks Zelas is double crossing him through Luna and appeared afraid. And soul jars? Where would I be talking to Lezo Greywords? Tell me, you apparently could tell Val."

Oh damn. Ragradia scourged Filia's brain, desperate to see whether Rangort had caught anything of that. Val wasn't supposed to talk to Filia about that.

Rangort was under the impression Lina would make a soul jar upon her return (Lina had neither patience nor skill for jar sculpting, actually). Given that recent stunt in hell, Rangort was better off not knowing that Lezo Greywords was meant to get involved. That might lead em to conclude Zelas meant to put those two pieces of Shabranigdu in soul jars. Which would be spectacularly redundant, given what they really meant to do with them, but it was something reasonable to fear for Rangort.

She couldn't be sure if Rangort had found out about this, because Filia shut her out right then and there. Ragradia was left with the impression of the words, "You're not getting dessert this evening."

That evening (meaning it was in the morning) Filia hesitated, doubted her dreams, and gave her dessert.

· · · · · · ·

The next night, they experimented with teleportation. Claire implanted the exact sense of direction as needed, Filia chalked up the necesary energy, and off they were.

There was a thoroughly unpleasant situation with crashing into the tree due to cannonballs. The Sailoon forces had been expecting hostile dragons and had a station to guard the tree. Fortunately, a certain Sylphiel lived in the tree, recognized Filia and allowed for facts to be sorted from fiction.

Ragradia preferred to sit out the formalities by letting Val teach her to walk properly.

· · · · · · ·

They arrived in Sailoon City by inconspicuous horse cart, and when they got off, Ragradia had her first wound.

Just a simple one, she fell and scraped her arms open on the road. So technically simple, so nervously complicated. The tears came without command. Had she possessed any sense of pride and dignity, it would have hurt her all the more to be reduced to this state. Perhaps that would have been easier? Pride was something mental, she could deal with that. This persistent knowledge she was weak left her unsatisfied.

Did mortals even realize how occupied with themselves they were every second, without even paying attention to themselves?

Ragradia didn't want to be like that, but she couldn't not.

· · · · · · ·

Everything needed opinions. Opinions she couldn't just base on cold logic. What kind of clothes did she like? What kind of fabric to make those clothes out did she like? What kind of colors? What kind of food? How well cooked should the fish me? The simple global view she was accustomed to know the world in was irrelevant.

All these things she was asked when they were in the castle and offered food and wardrobe to fit in. Filia had given her pen and a notebook so she could write answers, but with her poor muscle control (whyyyy) she only produced scribbles. Val got good at deciphering them very quickly.

Though, given Amelia's meaningless words, Claire didn't think spoken language got her much further. The woman had a lot to say about very little, and it was completely silly. Xelloss was not on the path to redemption, redemption was a social construct of organics. He was above it, just as much as Ragradia was incapable of guilt over those who had died due to her negligence.

At least she was a chimera, as planned. Golem and Blow Demon too, excellent.

She let the talking wash over herself while trying to figure out how to properly control her intestines. She was pretty sure the nausea wasn't normal, she'd never noticed it on the ground before.

· · · · · · ·

Filia bought a villa, Claire got her own room. She filled it with magic crystals to amplify her functioning. It was only temporary, until she got used to the noise of her organic body. She had to retrain her astral senses. It was absurd that she hadn't realized the city had a temple she could have teleport to.

She trained her senses at every moment, whether her body slept, ate or trained muscles. Though this, she saw Sailoon.

Sailoon was mostly humans, but every so now and then there were chimeras that combined human, blow demon and rock golem. A greater number had merged only with blow demons. Claire was a little disappointed Sailoon was not quite the force she had hoped for, but there should be a sufficient amount of magical soldiers.

Some people felt permanently uncomfortable with themselves. At one point, Val asked a guard why he had changed. He gave the boy an odd look before saying he served his country with pride. Claire tasted the pride and consumed it, but had to filter out a bitterness.

Pride was useful for such things, it got people to do practical things even when they didn't really want to. Amelia had never dreamed of being a chimera, but after Xelloss had pushed her in the right direction with convenient logic and emotion, she had taken the bait.

It could also make them do stupid things, which was why one had to take care to mold the right sort of pride. Hmm, once she got around to rebooting her religion, she'd put more accent on the pride of serving her.

· · · · · · ·

The astral plane wasn't half as muddy for gods as it was for devils, though not for an innate reason. The Flow existed everywhere, gods could tap into it leisure. This was her sight from afar. If she treated the flow itself as her sense and her storage, she could accumulate a greater mind. She needed it to process everything.

A man beat his child to death in a district to the east, a swindler got a tug on his line in the south and a family was evicted to the wast. Someone like Filia would go mad to realize how little she could do about the pain and injustice. She needed delusion to be able to afford empathy. Ragradia didn't have such trivialities, but she did have an instinct.

· · · · · · ·

Val got a private mentor in the know, so he could be properly schooled without risk of snipping over accidental transformations. Filia fretted over him anyway.

It became apparent that Filia was still stuck on the idea of him and her as little kids. Either she did not want to process their conversation in dreams, or she was afraid.

Even if she braved the poisonous tasted of negative emotions, she didn't know the thoughts behind it. Whether Filia feared some truth or the failure of her new ceramics branch, she couldn't tell.

· · · · · · ·

For all its talk of justice, Sailoon was only the realm of heterosexual pale male humans. Chimeraism had changed very little about this.

Chimeras were "the marvelous result of human ingenuity". Stereotypes of beast folk went unchallenged and so Filia had to put up a legal fight to be allowed to employ them in her Sailoon branch of Julecopt Corporations. Not that it mattered much for the family since the money belonged to everyone (though it went into the hands of the more money responsible adults) but once the guild had made it clear why they objected, Filia set her foot down on principle.

She slammed straight into a wall of sexism here. While Sailoon loved its princess, its court contained only one female knight and every member of the ruling class was male. Female mega-cooperation moguls were hard to swallow for this patriarchy, and it didn't help that Amelia was ... very emotional, had a track record of flowing up towers on delusional ideas about narrative causality, and was friends with Lina Inverse. This got women a reputation of being dangerously emotional.

It took Filia a full week of multiple daily visits before she wasn't brushed off as some silly woman who got it into her head to play boss; they thought the corporation was run by a certain Jillas, whom they deemed a proud human male. Filia had to admit partial defeat by asking Amelia to do something about it.

After a thorough barrage of justice speeches, during which Ragradia concluded they caused her nausea (damn, so this was a sugar overdose, astral edition), Julecopt was up and running.

Meanwhile, Claire had reached a sufficient control of her body to write and speak properly. She deemed this a good time to unload the eighty seven sets of fusion magic vessels from her little sub dimension and tell the appropriate parties what the plan was.

When Amelia and her fellow priestesses stepped into the main hall of their temple, they were deliciously surprised at the circle of vessels that surrounded the statue of Siephied. The miasma became better when Amelia's eyes turned sparkly and the sense of justice welled up in her. Sure enough, she had recognized what they were.

When Filia was alerted and teleported in, she brought along less enthusiasm and more boiling panic.

"Come again?"

"As I said, we need twenty of these sets around the city, kept under watch by people who get along. They must raise a shield over Sailoon. We commence the mass production of Zenaffa armors," Claire said. She tapped on the nearest set of vessels.

"I thought ... miss Lina said it wasn't ... why?"

"Let is suffice to say there may be a war no matter what," Claire said evenly. She added a smile.

"No! That doesn't suffice!"

"Miss Filia, calm down," Amelia said. "We've had trouble with dragons trying to recruit our kingdom for their war anywa. This is perfect!"

"As if that slimy hairball and the cockroach she vomited up have any good intentions for Sailoon!"

"I will need the extra protection, Sailoon can benefit from that. In the future, there will be a location that needs protecting, I can trust Sailoon will do so with the magic provided to them. Now if you'll excuse me, I have morning classes. This evening, we will have a meeting in private and amongst confidants of the temple to discuss the details," Claire said lightly.

Then she skipped off, humming as she went.

· · · · · · ·

Mortals could be reasonably efficient in getting things done, but they did a lot of talking before it happened.

· · · · · · ·

Claire could not get involved with the work itself. Once all was arranged to satisfaction, she occupied the royal Sailoon library to catch up on history. As she never destroyed anything, Amelia's request to let her be was honored.

Val appeared there one day at a random hour, at a time he should be studying too. He climbed on the chair next to her, fixing a trouble feeling and frown at her.

"Why won't you play with me anymore?" Val asked.

Without looking up, she said, "I'm catching up on all the history I missed in the past thousand years. Plus, this is pleasant. I'm still getting used to all the sensations, this work allows me to ease into it."

He crossed his arms and leaned his chin on them, kicking his legs against his chair. "You used to play with me all the time. I just thought that when you came out, we could play better. We haven't played at all."

Ah. He had expected her to keep revolving around him as his obliging playmate.

"I have responsibilities, Val."

"You're not going to die now, the devils don't even know you exist. You're not a god so it's useless. Can't we just play a little? Sylphiel says I can run around as dragon in Rygoon, cause it's safe. Come on, I promised Molly a ride, I can give you one too."

Actually, Claire had every intention to become a god again, one way or another. Not that he needed to know.

Spending time with Rygoon was appealing, but also potentially risky if the tree absorbed her. It hadn't inclined so during her —

"Claire!" Before she could respond, her chair toppled over. She had been too detached from her brain and thus, the reflexes kicked in too slowly. Her hands didn't brace against the ground as they should, she hit her head.

The pain numbed her body and belated, she cried out. Quickly she sought the neurological connections and turned the pain off.

Val's toxic miasma had taken another flavor, worry. He was at her side now, pulling her up clumsily.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize I could kicked over the whole chair. I just wanted you to look up."

She looked him in the eye. "You should have asked. What else do you want?"

He sat back on the ground. "Don't you get it? You're my friend, right? I want you to be alive."

"I am."

"No, you're not! You don't respond to anyone like it's normal!"

She shrugged. "I am normal for what I am."

His hands became claws and dug into the floor. "You're not. Claire, please try not to be like the gods. They're heartless, you won't be that way, right?"

Oooh ...

This was one of those moments she'd read about in fictional stories; Amelia had a large collection which incidentally tended to feature lots of chimeras in love with human girls. Whether she'd be human enough to be swayed to do the emotional rather than practical thing. Such moments were described in poetic therms, of the irresistible pull of giving in to a loving gesture, breaking the cold of the heart.

She didn't think it was rubbish, it was just not for her. That Val expected things to work like that was unfortunate. However, Val was likely still necesary for the plan, and it would do to keep him cooperative.

"We can arrange for a particular hour to play."

He frowned. "Never mind."

When he ran off, she was baffled.

Then she analyzed that emotions, stored the intellectual facets for later, snipped the nagging emotion and focused on her work.

Oddly enough, there was a new emotion left, and she couldn't snip it.

Curiosity wasn't quite an emotion, it appeared. It was an instinct.

An obnoxious instinct that kept saying she needed to know more, regardless of relevance. And there was so much to decipher about mortals.

· · · · · · ·

The royal Sailoon bankers reported that the elves had been investigating the financial sources Filia and her family had been living on, and had caught wind of her as an associate, if not owner of the company. They were under the impression Filia sponsored Jillas or something similar.

To keep her company running, Filia whitewashed her own money. Sailoon dealt with the 'black market' aspect by considering the dragons the criminals, and thus they had no need to honestly answer any inquiries regarding the purchase of Jillas cannons.

Filia repaid them by throwing herself on whatever pro-Sailoon project she could, taking a particular liking to those that needed, ah ... a little less than justice to work out. There were acceptable ways to blackmail people in the name of the greater good, as far as Filia was concerned. Amelia and Filia were usually in line on this, but there were small fallouts. Claire weighed the options and decided that this was one of those situations Xelloss referred to as a mix of goodness in ideals and goodness in goals. It was beneficent for Amelia to uphold the concept of justice, as it gave useful structure. It was beneficent for Filia's beneficial goals to find a way in the dark to get around the rules.

Xelloss would have though the struggle of two goods was hilarious and would have tried complicating it, but Claire had bigger issues than exploring possible entertainment. See, justice and law had a thing together. One of the most vexing was the concept of possession. Primary possession was stuff one actually had power over to wield with their own body. Secondary possession was on paper and made no sense.

It would be perfectly logical to take the excess wealth of certain people and distribute it to those in need, but this was considered injustice, even though they pertained justice was more or less a form of goodness. People were dying too early because they did not have better doctors, or lived their lives in weaker circumstances.

In addition to that, Sailoon had a few hundred laws all over the place. Claire had memorized the entire law book and its history of cases, and found she had very little leeway. Even if she became an adult, she had no position and no qualifications to do anything useful.

She could sit back and kill the time with waiting, but this wasn't satisfactory. Not anymore.

Back in the subdimension, Val asked her deep questions but also silly ones and wanted to play and needed more complex help she didn't know how to give ... she had needed to ask questions to herself. Just simple ones at first. How do I help him without giving away too much? Then came life as a mortal, and questions were everywhere. She couldn't stop.

Did she want some damn jam on her bread?

Yes.

It was a realization that plopped into her mind, and for the first time she was surprised about herself. She could do more than just give answers, so she couldn't sit back without her instinct saying, you could do more to improve the life quality of mortals. So much more. Also, have some jam.

The next question was whether there were other ways to help people.

Filia was the walking talking answer : if the law doesn't cooperate, work around it.

· · · · · · ·

As a mortal Claire could use spells without suffering damage to her ego. With the right combination, she could transform into her Granny Aqua form. Holding the shape took some effort, what with DNA saying otherwise, but she did manage.

She sneaked out of the palace and wandered Sailoon like this. Her eyes were everywhere, she saw within the houses and made small changes. She needed to be closer to use her magic without exerting too much power, however.

Rich men and women lost their money more often, the poor found it.

Gamblers desperate for a better life won more often, until Claire realized it made them more addicted. Then she changed tactics to cutting away their obsession.

There was a murderer in that inn, passing through the city under the guise of a business man. She danced through the alleys, slipped in through a backdoor and mingled with the crowd. He died of a heart attack, curtsy of a small blood clot. The flow made it so very easy to get into the details of a person's body.

Killing was unpleasant and contrary to her instinct, but on a purely mental level she understood a necessity for it. If this man died, his future victims would live.

He had a wife though, she was heartbroken. It tasted foul when she rushed to his limp body.

Was this the right thing?

Hmm, what if his victims of the future might've been better off dead?

Nah, not worth fretting over.

Claire went to the next inn and finished her night on better tasting miasma, curtsy of another rich guy dropping their excess money. She brought everyone drinks while snipping at addictions and unhappiness. She didn't feel like sleeping anymore.

· · · · · · ·

In the days, she joined Zelgadis in the back rooms of the castle and provided him with her knowledge as needed. His job was to pretend to the forgers he had pieced everything together from his travels and fragile copies of the Claire Bible, and the rest was improvised. Filia teleported her there and back again, nobody but him saw her there.

Most humans simply did not have the magic capacity to deal with a Zenaffa armor and ended up being consumed. However, the chimeras were sufficiently boosted they could deal with it and had the benefit of not being able to merge with it as easily as with humans.

Zelgadis was pleasant to work with. He didn't chatter. The only real diversion was when after what seemed hours of debating with himself (and souring the miasma), he asked whether Lezo was right and there was no cure. She explained him about how the process mutated the DNA and unless one had a blueprint of the original, there was no going back. He didn't ask anymore after that.

· · · · · · ·

A few days into this new rhythm, Xelloss showed up during a grand wedding she had wormed into for dinner. It occurred to Claire to frame her ally through the concept of justice. The conclusion was amusingly negative and useless.

He detected the smallest thing off as he sat down at her table in the corner.

"Miss Claire, just what did I do to earn your momentary hostility?"

"A thought experiment concerning the human concept of justice."

A waiter appeared, and Xelloss took fifteen obnoxious minutes to torment the man with indecisiveness and ridiculous questions like what pollen grew within a fifty meter radius of the place where the wheat had been harvested. Claire cut it short by placing both their orders.

"You just had to spoil that, miss Claire? And just when you've made it clear we'll be talking of justice in Sailoon. I deserved a little stomach brace."

She smiled slightly, trying to get a smirk. "If I'd care for justice, I'd be out to kill you, oh thief, oh destroyer, slayers of dragons, enemy of my holiness. I'd be up on a table declaring your wickedness and spurning your company."

He quirked an eyebrow. "You had me worried over nothing? Intentionally?"

"You had yourself worried. Indeed, over nothing." She shrugged. "The past and whatever crimes are in it is a useful reference point at best, but only in regards for the future I want. I care not for satisfying some insubstantial justice sense. Don't worry."

"Oh, is that so? I'm glad to hear you've escaped miss Amelia's influence. In fact, I dare say you've gone the opposite direction. Here you are, dressed up like a hag and with a trail of blood in your wake?"

That was surprising, he shouldn't be able to access the flow ... ah, he was more observant than she understood. That was an idea she had to get used to, devils who were less blind. He had probably heard the rumors.

"I am satisfying my need to ensure as many lives live long as possible. There's some corrupt people in the palace and commerce, but it's safer to practice with small fry first."

"And the drinking?" Xelloss said, inclining his head at what the waiter brought them. A pint of beer for Claire, tea for Xelloss. The waiter promised the rest would be delivered soon.

"I think it's funny," she said after they were alone again. "So do the people here. Sometimes about a granny drinking like a sailor. Everyone's happy here, albeit by messing with their bodies. It's a quick snack."

"Oh my, are you taking after me?"

"You have a lifestyle where you are both entertained and getting your job done. It seemed useful to do a similar thing." She gulped down half of her pint. "I do think I have a handle of 'enjoyment' now. Do I taste foul to you yet?"

He shrugged. "A little. But I think you could do more."

"Well, I am not here to satisfy your ideas. Do tell me you had a better reason to risk visiting me?"

He scratched the back of his head. "I'm afraid I lost the demonsblood talisman."

Claire blinked, only because her body did so automatically. She forgot steering said body entirely as her astral form went into knots.

"How?" she asked at last, throwing unhappy miasma his way.

"I have no idea. It must have happened in your dimension, but I find no trace of the thief there. I was hoping you could enlighten me on what might have happened."

It wasn't as big a disaster as Xelloss assumed it would be, and it better remain that way. If he knew where the talisman was forged, he might have too good a guess.

"I know nothing. No one entered the dimension to my knowledge, nor left it. Had it been so, I would have told any of you at once."

He sighed. "Can we at least run over the options?"

"We can."

Claire spent the rest of the evening with no fruits to bear. Zelas better get on the move to make a new one.

When Xelloss was get ready to leave, he lingered.

"What is it?" she asked. She wasn't interested, but didn't want him to hang around either. He soured the mood of everyone around him.

"I'm disappointed, miss Claire. You have displayed so little versatile response to this news. I had expected more mental development."

"I see no need to indulge in extraneous emotions."

He knelt down, tapping her on the nose with a finger. "Now now, miss Claire. You are in the possession of a brain in this form. You'll develop extraneous emotions whether you like it or not, and there's far less choice to be had. You ought to have a look at the special section of the royal library. Miss Amelia stores the books mister Zelgadis gathers on his quests. Of particular interest would be the ones about neurology, instinct and sociology."

"I have bigger problems with my brain than those parts."

"Oh? You are not integrated well with the body? Is that why your emotions made a small jump at my news, and then your emotions soothed down? Perhaps you don't feel there is much reason to worry."

"Don't pursue that line of thought," she said quickly. "Anyway, goodbye. I'll try the library in the morning."

"As you say."

· · · · · · ·

Aww, heaven and hell, no.

Claire closed the book with a thump and set her chin on her hand, pouting.

The interaction of mortal souls and brains was infinitely more complicated than she had realized. She only knew souls as these impenetrable things that you could put a hole in at best, and minds were largely the result of expanding choices. She hadn't been unaware of the struggle with the brain, but she'd nevertheless considered them separate.

It wasn't. As long as a soul resided in a mortal body, its identity and personality was slave to the brain. She should have seen that coming. Garv ended up with a freaking survival instinct strong enough to override his devil nature when it left everything else about him intact. It wasn't a mystical quality of souls, it was a new instinct being forced onto him. A state of mind. No wonder Siephied and her had been wrong about reincarnation chaffing away identity.

If it was a matter of form, she was as malleable as any normal human to developing a contrary, irritating, useless personality. And it might be forever, once it was burned in.

She needed to take control of herself before she ended up being an insufferable nitwit like Xelloss or self-tormenting zealot like Filia. Both her routes were already dangerously steering into silly directions.

She couldn't get around the root of trying to make others live as long as possible. That didn't mean she had to be impractical about things, or make it unpleasant."

Her nightly endeavors were nutritious and satisfactory to the instinct, but if this report about babies dying due to lack of affection was any indication, her brain might need better stimuli. She'd be of no use of she died or lost her mind.

Maybe she could combine what she wanted and needed.

· · · · · · ·

Opioid peptides. Niiiiiice.

· · · · · · ·

"Enough," Zelgadis said at some point in time she couldn't quite place.

"Huh?" Claire eloquently contributed.

"I know an addict when I see one. Hell, I experimented myself."

"Mwahhubbha."

"Stick to that thought," Zelgadis said. He picked her up, during which it occurred to Claire she'd been face planted in a sticky potion they'd been brewing. "Filia thinks it's an adapting phase, I'm about to make a point about that."

· · · · · · ·

It was a serious problem she had no idea how she got here. She was in a bed in an alcove, under green blankets and the wall was alive and whispering. Claire's current location was a bed in Sylphiel's home within Rygoon, built between the roots. The magic of the holy tree was so dense and all surrounding that with some skill, Claire could wield it to her ends. It didn't try to absorb her, so she didn't try to flee.

She tapped into her astral memory and found exact details of it : Zelgadis had dragged Filia out of the smith worshop, explained his suspicions. Filia had teleported her to Rygoon.

Zelgadis was off by a few things, smart as he was he only had other's limited research to go on. Claire had no drugs, she needed no drugs. Claire had figured out happy brain mode.

Speaking of happy brains, Filia was in such a state too, but less incoherent and more squee. See, Sylphiel had a fairytale cottage in a magical goodness tree. She was very loud about this while an awkward Sylphiel and longsuffering Zelgadis stood by. This was in another room, but the miasma was so thick Claire could taste it even as the tree absorbed it.

Apparently, Sylphiel had agreed to lend her home for ... experiments? Interrogation? Intervention? Apparently, Filia had her doubts about Claire's genuine status and Zelgadis was throwing in his own ideas.

Confirmation : Filia was worried over her and not her business.

Filia was a good person. Too bad the world didn't function on an axis of morality. If Filia was under the delusion she was helping the one morally upstanding god be revived, that was her at her most useful.

Didn't look like she wanted to keep the delusion, though.

Claire remained in bed and let herself rest, using magic to let her brain ease, but didn't alter too much. After a while, Filia entered. She closed the door behind herself and sat down on the bed.

"Claire?" She reeked of compassion and worry. Clearly, she wanted to be rid of that feeling, so Claire expected safely ranting.

It was a funny paradox : that these mortals desired the more "true" version of compassion, when this was the selfish variant. They gained something too from making others happy, namely a few brain chemicals that caused serenity and fulfillment. The more truly selfless acts of consideration they found less true.

She opened her eyes, put on a smile and only succeeded at disturbing Filia. She was not expecting such vigor. Claire toned it down, but didn't feel like feigning sickness.

"What were you doing with yourself these past days?"

"Sorting out the chemicals my brain needed for pleasant emotions. It's easier than going through the actions of obtaining them. I need to look after my health if I want to look after the welfare of others."

"That's ridiculous ... emotions aren't chemicals."

"With organic creatures, they absolutely have a boost in chemicals." Through her open soul's window, Ragradia pushed the relevant information at her. Filia frowned, but accepted it fairly quickly. Not to the effect Claire wanted, though.

"You shouldn't treat it like that, that's ... that's not how it's supposed to work. No wonder you're stoned!"

There was a scoff from another room; Zelgadis was having coffee there with Sylphiel.

Embarrased, Filia corrected herself, "No wonder you're intoxicated."

"A miscalculation," Claire said.

"Why not try getting happiness the norm... our way? You'd have plenty of examples."

"My way is quicker. Besides, I wanted to see what I could do this way. Plenty of time to learn it another way."

Filia fiddled with the hem of her cloak.

"I did not expect to need to explain to you the value of experimenting on alien life. Would you have preferred I experiment on others than myself? Or maybe you'd let me dig up your new knowledge a little better?" Ragradia said.

Filia's eyes widened, she stopped fidgetting.

"That really was you? I figured I had constructed part of you ... you had no permission for that!"

"Luna did not have your permission to enter. She too learned things about you without permission."

"Miss Luna was there by accident. "

"The results are the same, why do you act like the motivation makes it different?"

Filia thought about this before saying, "Because the motivation is my best indication for estimating whether someone will misuse me in the future."

Claire smiled involuntarily. "Fair, but on a psychologically steered place such as a dreamscape, accident and intent have the intermediate state of subconscious. You'd do well to question Luna more."

Filia huffed. "I think I should question you first and foremost. You had me assume you really were a little girl."

"I didn't lie—"

"Don't!" Filia slammed her hand on the bedpost. "Don't think I'll buy that. Xelloss makes an art of lying by giving half truths. The truth is a person's right, not some sort of incidence."

Little things in her brain conspired to bring out something new in Ragradia. Anger. She didn't know the facial expressions or body language for it naturally, but it influenced what she wanted. Just out of curiosity, she let herself act on it.

"You want the greatest truth I can give you?"

Claire planted a hand on the nearest wall, requesting the tree's power. Rygoon answered. Claire closed her eyes and switched off all extra functions of her brain, her focus solely in the astral realm and the souls nearby.

Into Filia's mind poured the structures of what Ragradia saw in the world.

Sailoon was very heavy on the axis of chaos and order, or rather ... crime and law. Not quite the same, and it only became fishier once Lina was involved.

Filia was heavy on good and evil thing and had very little respect for the law.

Zelas and her spawn functioned more on an axis of fun versus dull and practicality versus uselessness. Or perhaps, all in the name of meaning, their own personal meaning. The fact that they believed in meaning at all would drive regular devils insane.

And then there were gods, those who just functioned on instinct and went with the flow ... just because that felt natural. There was no greater meaning.

The truest axis of this world was existence versus oblivion. There was the axis of chaos in its modern definition, versus order. Law versus crime was a detailed facet of it exclusive to the organic social lifeforms, as was good and evil. Devils had law and betrayal built directly on the lowest axis. Dragons had all the varying ideas of the greater good. Others would call them evil.

There wasn't any absolute, but the belief in such an absolute could benefit.

Only one absolute existed. Had she learned about the Lord of Nightmares in her studies at the temple?

Ah, yes. The great void, the arch nemesis of existence, lord of all devils. Less of a person than it was a primordial force. There was no grasping Her. Ragradia could only represent Her as beyond everything they knew.

In this framework of axis and forces so much greater than small lives, she placed herself and Filia, tiny as they were. That knowledge she held for a long time.

When she opened her eyes, Filia had collapsed aside of the bed. Her vitals showed signs of seizure. Likely, she had overtaxed her brain.

"I've been doing this all wrong. You're right, you're not really a child," Filia told Ragradia in thoughts, right before locking her out.

After a few minutes, Filia pushed herself up onto her knees. Without looking up, she asked, "Who are you?"

"If you apply mortal concepts of personhood on me, I am not Aqualord Ragradia. A person is the sum of their past, I am merely a copy of the final moments of that version's life. I am aware that Aqualord Ragradia was less caring for mortals, but I am not like that, because I am only the thoughts I should have taken care to let everyone live as well and happily as possible. If I had done that, we would never have been so weak as to suffer defeat. We would have stopped the war before it became a weakness. That idea dominates my existence. I am an idea given life."

"But you consider yourself an extension of Ragradia."

She nodded. "Yes. There is one line of existence between me and the entity born from Siephied. I might even refer to myself as Siephied, were there be no siblings to make that terminology confusing for mortals. It does not matter much to us, these concepts of individualism. Magically, I am obligated to have an identity and my magic matches the stream of Ragradia. So I am."

"But you do need unique identity."

"Yep," Claire said.

"And you value life of yourself and others."

"Don't mistake that for ethics or compassion. It's unfortunately the core of my remnant, since I am reborn of godly thoughts," she said with a sneer. "If I as Granny Aqua was all of Ragradia, not merely this, I would have joined forces with Garv, killed Lina and helped him destroy Lei Magnus."

Filia looked and tasted so disappointed that Granny Aqua had seconds thoughts about her cold delivery. On the other hand, Filia was neck deep into astral business and it wouldn't do for her to foster any delusions of virtue in gods.

"Listen. The innate social instinct that you organic creatures call, which may drive you to compassion and friendship and justice, let's call it Ren. I do not possess Ren, but I have come to a position where I distinguish I need facets that usually come from Ren. You might say Ragradia crafted an artificial Ren by accident and it is imperfect. In the grand scheme it may be detrimental that I am driven to ensure as much life as possible. But I cannot betray it. In the end, that means you and I serve the same purpose. Can you accept that?"

"Yes," she said softly. Filia folded her hands on her lap and looked straight at her. "That means we need another way to interact. How about we strike a contract?"

When Filia had made a brief contract with Xelloss, there had been a hint of amusement behind it, along with a dose of anger. For Claire, she had only a severe seriousness.

"Speak."

"Miss Luna and I never managed to complete our research. Also, I think I'm overdue with dealing with Val's potential. I want help with that."

"You don't have the capacity to fully understand how minds stick together. You've only ever been yourself," Claire said.

Filia huffed, crossed her arms. "My son could become a world destroying monster, and I'm told you have helped him unlock his memories. You owe me."

"Owe you help to wield your kenosis as a weapon against gods?"

"You owe me help for my son's sake," she said. "I will risk my safety for you, and include you in my family as far as it is acceptable as a risk. You'll help me become more magically dexterous so I can protect my family and you better."

Claire nodded. "Alright. You have a point that it would help Val. I'll throw in all the spells created in my name."

"I'll have the papers done tomorrow," Filia said, now smiling mischievously.

"Oh, and a little bit of advice? Blink more often, alright? It will help you pass for human."

"I can try," Claire said, and she blinked, and smiled, and tilted her head to the side.

Filia smiled back, and her miasma gradually became tasty again. "Good. Because tomorrow, your Life Management lessons will start."

· · · · · · ·

For reasons of compassion, Filia would not tell Val that he had once been a mass murderer.

For reasons of practicality, Claire didn't tell either of them Val still had useful information within his head. If Luna picked up on that little detail, she'd get a clue. Not that there currently was much to pick up on. Claire hadn't been able to subtract the useful information during their time in the subdimension. When they had devised the plan, they had taken it for granted that Filia could bring along an obedient little kid eager to please, one they could just ask to provide. He'd been that way three years ago. Now ...

Val arrived by evening, accompanied by Zelgadis and Filia. She heard them with organic ears through the open door, since there was an echo in the subterranean root maze.

"A space for what?" Val asked.

"We're going to see whether anything weird happens to your mind when you transform. If not, we're going to train you as a less messy warrior," Zelgadis said.

Val stopped dead in his track. "Is that why Molly and the others couldn't come along? You want me to do something that dangerous?"

Claire wished they'd get a move on it.

Sylphiel led them to an inner sanctum, where she explained the room before leaving. It was a magically fortified room where she practiced her Drag Slaves without destroying anything; the tree absorbed the excess energy. It would not hold up to a transforming dragon, but any loose energy would be guided away safety. No rocks dropping on anyone.

There was so much talking before they finally got Val to transform, Claire was getting itchy in a whole new way. Normally she'd be heading to the city by now, getting the instinct's nagging out of her system.

Val aged up alright, got his wings out, chucked a few energy blasts and Filia suffered through two fearful deja vu's without anyone else noticing.

Ah, trauma. A useless thing. It smelled truly foul, though. She shut her channels tightly and refrained from dismissing it outright as a triviality. Filia put clear effort into pretending she was fine when her son was around, yet it was something that demanded expression to get out of the system.

Ragradia linked to Filia's mind, her subconscious provided a clue : the particular trigger was his face when he got really caught up in what he did. Looked like a warrior. Had been that face behind which lived the person who had tried ripping apart the world and made her hand start it all. Claire concluded she would find trauma annoying to be around, but could not imagine what actually experiencing that foul emotion was like.

When Val laughed in a way that would be described as somewhat fanatic in Amelia's novels, that did it for Filia. She lost composure. She took a rasping breath, two steps back and trembled. Just briefly before she got it under control. The fear had been seen, however.

"Mom?" Val asked. "Mom, don't cry."

"I'm not crying," she said, raising her head so he could see she told the truth. "I was just a little startled, that's all."

She sounded too nervous. Claire decided to change the mood, or at least tried.

"You're getting better at controlling it, Val!" Claire said, clapping her hands together. "You'll get better yet!"

He turned to her. "How? It doesn't make sense that I can do this, right? I saw the training of the Sailoon armies ... I recognized the ideas behind it. What am I controlling, Claire?"

"He figured out he knows too much. You tell him?" she asked Filia.

Filia and Zelgadis exchanged a look before Filia slowly started, "Probably ... well, we think you're acting on the memories of someone named Valteira. Val, you were not magically frozen as an egg. You saw the start and the end of the genocide of the Ancients ... and ... "

Zelgadis took over when he noticed Filia stopped. "You survived because you were turned into a chimera. When you were purified of other part, you regressed into the state of an egg."

Val's miasma was edging into poison, the bitterness of sorrow and sting of fearful confusion. It cut short the gratitude Filia felt for Zelgadis a moment before.

"What was the other half?" Val asked.

"A devil," Zelgadis said. "You weren't a pleasant person."

"Did I hurt mom?"

There was no right answer. The silence alone told Val something was up. His telltale weakness, his right arm started twitching into draconic form. "Tell me!"

Zelgadis sighed and said, "Yes. More than once."

Ragradia tried very hard to not pay attention to the miasma, but found that even if she didn't swallow, she couldn't get away from knowing it was there. By the Lord of Nightmares, if any mental structure of Valgarv sensory meridian responses remained in the boy, it was the capacity for misery.

Val jumped up and ran for the door, a choice Claire recognized as incredibly typical of certain novels Amelia favored. Just run away from the source of guilt. At least it was guilt. Valgarv had a lack of it, from what she had heard. People with guilt were easier to keep in line for her goals, as long as the chinks were worked out.

"Absolutely not!" Filia teleported before him, braced both hands on the door frame and gave him the look of a mother who would tolerate no disobedience. A little of the effect was lost as he was taller than her, but but he stopped. "Val ul Copt, you are not running off to sulk somewhere!"

He hesitated, then he picked her up and set her aside. "Sorry," he muttered. "I need to think."

And off he was, running and tripping.

Zelgadis stepped aside of a dejected Filia. "You're going to have to tell him some time what he did."

"He didn't do that. Val is not Valgarv. You shouldn't have told him that!"

Claire decided to pipe up, "There is the possibility Valteira's identity structures remain, but not necessarily Valgarv."

Filia wasn't listening anymore, she was out the door already.

"Identity structures? What's your opinion, Ragradia?" Zelgadis asked.

"You mortals have a much too glorious idea of identity, as if it were a constant singular unit like the soul. Memories of Valteira are easier to drag up and he can use them, but that means nothing. I contain memories of Ragradia, yet Ragradia would scoff at what I have become and see no point in pursuing my path," she said.

"If you had the choice to become like that first Ragradia again, would you take it?" Zelgadis asked.

This stumped Claire. Of all the opinions she needed to form, this was one that she couldn't draw on her brain for. "I don't know."

Zelgadis sighed again, almost like it was a quirk rather than a lung function. "You might want to tell Filia about the Valteira thing."

"Why?"

"Because you've landed in the river of doom for asocial people. You will be assimilated by the Lina friendship circle, whether you like it or not. You're in Lina's shadow now, the humiliation has only just begun."

Claire tilted her head, confused. "Xelloss said similar things."

Zelgadis gave a wry smile and walked out the room. Claire stayed put and focused on sending Filia a vocal vision.

"Your son acted like Valteira. Why do you think Garv singled him out? Valteira had a reputation of rejecting the pacifism for the Ancient Dragons and was one of the few to fight. Garv knew him by name because everyone did. Xelloss has different ideas about your son, and I hope he doesn't act on them. Valgarv defied the Lord of Nightmares and that's something Xelloss cannot let go."

Ragradia realized a second later that was a bad thing to say to someone whom she needed to get along with Xelloss.

Well then. She was right to suspect her drive to ensure the long life of everyone would cause compulsive stupidity.

Filia responded very blasé, though. In fact, she might be insulted. Said she already knew Xelloss was dangerous, thank you very much. And her soul's window closed again.

Nearly half an hour later, Val returned, being dragged at his legs by Filia and Zelgadis. Mismatched wings stuck up, but were not in a panicked flutter. Claire assumed that despite his mood, he had given up the struggle. The moment Filia let go off his legs, she darted to the door and closed it. Zelgadis didn't let go till she had cast a sealing spell on it.

When Claire walked to his front, she couldn't see his face. It was buried below wild mint hair and black dragon arms.

Filia turned around, hands on hips and said, "Val, we are going to talk this out whether you like it or not!"

The mumbling from below the black and green didn't sound very interested. Filia pushed away a surge of irritation and hunched down before Val. She laid a hand on his head, just between the claws.

"Val, please," she said gently. "If there is any chance you went on a massacre because you took a cue from those memories, it needs to stop. I've forgiven you, you don't need to doubt that. But I didn't forget. You have a lot of power that you need to learn to use responsibly. A warrior's skills don't mean you have the mind to be a warrior just like that."

He finally looked up. Filia's hand rested where his horn would have been, had there still been devil in him.

"If I try more, maybe I grow up to be like Valteira. If he's so violent, I don't want to. I don't like seeing you sad."

This placated Filia, worried Zelgadis and confused Claire, at least until she figured out the catch. If Val did it only for Filia, not for himself ...

Zelgadis pushed her forward with his leg. "Be useful."

"Eh ... Val, you probably acted on muscle memory. Your former life is gone, but your dragon self is not, which includes neurological functions such as reflexes," Claire said. "You inherited that from Valteira, but not his strategic ability. You suck at being strategic. Valteira wouldn't have survived so long if he fought as stupid as you did. So now you've gotta learn that. You won't hurt Filia and the others unless you choose to."

"Okay ..." he said in a tiny voice that even Claire saw was ridiculous on him in this form. He sat up, crossing his legs. He might want to stay smaller than Filia.

"What about Claire? What's she here for?"

"She needs to learn to be a person better, just like you. Neither of you are properly dealing with your impulses and emotions, but in very different ways. You should help each other, okay? Claire's really pragmatic about everything and knows about memories and mind, and you know a lot about being alive. I'm going to oversee you, but it's from each other I want you to learn."

"I get it!" Claire said. "You are the actual teacher, but we're meant to bond so you frame it like that. I read about it in sage Ingu—" She got no further as Zelgadis knocked her on the head.

"Who gave you permission to go through my collection?"

"Your fiancé."

Zelgadis gritted his teeth, muttering something about not being officially engaged. Claire didn't get the difference, but he clearly wasn't into criticizing Amelia's kindness.

Filia whirled around, next thing Claire knew she had a finger pointed in her face. "And you. Don't psycho analyze my intentions when you hardly know yourself. You drift through life without any passion or taking notice of anything. Miss Sylphiel offered you healing when we arrived and miss Amelia had a lot of questions about Sailoon in the past. You barely acknowledged them."

Claire stared at the finger and knew she was about to give the wrong answer, but Filia wasn't dangerous, so she said it anyway. "It wasn't relevant."

"The people around you, especially those trying to help you, are not irrelevant. Yes, you've seen more details of the world than even the oldest and wisest dragon. But you haven't look through eyes. You see the clay of the pot, but not the concept of the art that made it that way. Maybe you won't need this as a god, but you're a mortal now. You can't survive this world if you don't understand it."

Claire frowned. "How would that make you a good teacher?"

"You don't go to the priest to learn how to stop drinking, you go to the guy who quit the bar," Zelgadis grumbled. "Believe me, Filia knows all about being a sanctimonious, condescending dragon with the emotional stability of a spring."

Filia threw him a look, pressed her lips to a thin line, and once more killed her oncoming rage (without magic). Somehow, she turned it into glee.

"Right. I'm an expert, so you're in good hands and ... what?"

Zelgadis was staring at the finger she'd stuck up as she spoke. "You've been hanging out too much with Xelloss."

Now she gave her finger a look, just briefly. She clenched her fists and looked elsewhere, unpleasantly embarrassed.

Claire was just a tad curious as to why, and a tiny bit amused.

Damnit. The way things were heading, sooner or later Xelloss was going to get what he had always wanted. She'd be curious and like all sorts of stupid little things ... damn, now she was calling things stupid.

Still, she did not have enough passion to be resentful to that development. It wouldn't hurt to develop a personality that could silly people. Happiness made for good food, and if Xelloss was to be believed it was an excellent experience as long as he didn't have to put it in his astral stomach. On top of that, it would allow for more natural interaction with mortals in the future. Especially if Val was going to spill anything about machines.

On top of that, it satisfied her instinct if she helped Val become a better warrior, for the sake of future lives he might otherwise take. She'd still do her nightly clean ups, but she'd have an easier time dealing with Val.

And maybe her own brain. Time to decide.

"Alright, Filia. I'll learn."

There'd never been any question about who she was, she had no crisis or doubt. But if more people would ask, she'd answer she would be the best of all versions. A more useful Ragradia, a livelier Granny Aqua, and she was a child called Claire who had a selfish reason to protect the world and knew it.

So, she transformed into an adult to match Val and lied, "Val, let's do this, I bet it's fun!"

Who knew, one day she might mean it.

· · · · · · ·