Jadis blinked rapidly as she took in her sudden new surroundings. The transition between reality and the… unreality? Abstractness? Existentialism? The whatever it was that D lived in was always a hard thing to get used to. This time, however, Jadis felt somewhat different from the last.
Looking down at herself, she found that she was no longer an incorporeal soul as she had been every other time she had visited D in his domain. Well, she was still kind of see-through and indistinct, but there was far more detail to her metaphysical self than before. For one thing, she was definitely the same height as she was normally when she was in her Nephilim bodies on Oros. That was new. She was also wearing clothing of some kind. She couldn’t tell what kind of clothing as it was similarly indistinct and conceptual in the way the rest of D’s home was, but she was definitely clothed in something casual and comfortable. She could tell she was pale, strong, and nicely proportioned, just like in real life, and she had long hair that came down past her shoulders. But the finer details of her appearance were still fuzzy.
Having finished inspecting herself, Jadis took a moment to examine D’s neighborhood to see if there were any changes. It didn’t take long to recognize that there were a few differences from her last visit.
D’s house, a pleasant yet indistinct American-style home with a picket fence, was now situated on a street at the end of a cul-de-sac. There were other houses around on the street, all of them giving off the impression of being tidy and well-kept, but otherwise uninteresting and blandly suburban. Snow had fallen, covering the yards in a cozy blanket of white, and the sidewalks had all been freshly shoveled.
The walkway before Jadis that led up to D’s front door was decorated with lights and ornaments on either side. None of them gave the impression of being for any particular holiday or religion, only that they were representative of a festive winter holiday. The house was similarly decorated, and Jadis could see a wreath hanging on the door that had been purposefully twisted into the shape of a large letter D.
“Thematic, I guess,” Jadis muttered as she walked up to the door.
She found that she had to bend down a little as she was far taller than the house had been designed for; imperial architecture allowed for taller people a little better since orcs tended to be bigger than the average human, but the American-style house wasn’t as accommodating. Nevertheless, Jadis knocked on the door and waited to see if D would come to greet her wearing a Santa suit or some other silly nonsense.
A moment later, the door swung open and Jadis was greeted by a complete stranger.
“Jadis! Hello Hunny, it’s so good to see you!” a matronly woman with a strong southern accent said around a brilliant smile. “I’m so glad you could make it! Come right in, Sugar!”
The older woman had none of the indistinct conceptuality that D and his domicile existed as. She was somewhere in her sixties, or maybe even early seventies, and was pleasantly plump with age. Her face was sweet and slightly wrinkled, and she wore a pair of half-moon glasses perched on the end of her nose. Her gray hair had been done up in a messy bun and her warm blue dress was patterned with all sorts of cats in various poses.
Without waiting for Jadis’ response, the grandmotherly woman took Jadis’ hand and pulled her into the house with a gentle yet firm tug, forcing her to duck her head to avoid hitting the doorframe.
“Uh, I’m sorry, but who are you?”
Jadis’ confused question was met with a hearty laugh.
“Oh, I’m sorry Hun, I might have gotten ahead of myself! I’m just so excited for you and that dear little Alex!”
The woman turned and, without Jadis realizing how she managed it, pulled her down so that she was on eyelevel with the smiling stranger.
“Congratulations, Jadis! You’re going to be a mother! I’m so happy for you! My name is Ulya, but you can call me Granny. Everyone does.”
Ulya? Jadis froze in dumbfounded shock as the Goddess of the Hearth planted a kiss on her cheek before gently patting that same cheek with a warm hand.
“Now come along, Sugar, everyone else is waiting for you!”
Still confused but at least having a name to put to the woman, Jadis followed the goddess further inside of the metaphysical homestead. Just beyond the space that represented a foyer was the concept of a large dining room. The platonic ideal of a table was placed in the middle of the space and the imagined perfect holiday meal had been laid out across the top. Several individuals that Jadis immediately recognized were sitting around said table, and as soon as she and Ulya entered the room there was a discordant chorus of greetings launched their way.
“Hello, my child,” Lyssandria smiled brilliantly at Jadis, her overwhelming beauty making Jadis’ tongue feel thick in her mouth, temporarily rendering her speechless. “Congratulations!”
The Goddess of Beauty was wearing a flowing green and white gown that reminded Jadis of holly and snow. Her scintillating eyes were mesmerizing, though Jadis had the wits to recognize when the goddess put a drink in her hand and so avoided dropping the glass and making a mess.
“Now, I’m still waiting for you to make me some Nephilim grandchildren,” Lyssandria tutted at Jadis before giving her a wink. “But I know you’re putting in your best efforts.”
“Don’t forget to greet my dragon,” a scratchy voice rasped at her. “And try some slippery elm with peppermint. Good for the nausea.”
The man talking at her was Villthyrial, God of the Wild. He was, just as before, in the guise of a bedraggled man who looked like he hadn’t had a bath in several decades. He was also naked. The only thing that stopped Jadis from seeing the god’s junk was the potted plant he had in his lap that he was idly inspecting the leaves of.
“She’s not the one pregnant, Villy,” Ulya said as she bustled past him and towards an open door that led into a hypothetical kitchen. “The Demon that rejected Sammy is.”
“Oh. Then tell her to use silver root instead of slippery elm. Peppermint is still fine.”
“Yes, yes, thank you for your sage wisdom,” a man said in a perfectly sarcastic tone. “I’m sure the anti-nausea advice will be extremely useful.”
The last person seated at the table was, as Jadis had expected, D. He was no different from all the other times she had visited the God of Chance; he was still just a conceptual entity with no true details, just the idealized thought of what an average man might be. However, there was one detail that she could see that stood out like a sore thumb on the unpredictable god. He was wearing a Christmas sweater.
Not just the idea of a warm, holiday piece of clothing. This was an actual Christmas sweater with the image of Santa stuck in a chimney on it, with a classic superhero attempting to shove the jolly old elf down the brick chimney. It was the exact same horrible sweater that Jadis remembered her brother wearing last year.
“Why are you wearing that—wait, that’s not one of my questions. Never mind.” she caught herself before she asked D an unnecessary question.
“Because I quite like the design,” D grumbled an answer anyway as he slouched in his chair. “And if I’m going to have to put up with all this holiday cheer your actions have dragged into my home, you have to put up with me wearing this.”
“Don’t be such a Grinch, dear,” Lyssandria told D as she took her seat at the table. “It’s not as though we intrude on you every day. You can put up with a little family gathering every once in a while.”
“Family gatherings…” D scoffed as he pulled out his tablet and began rapidly typing away on it. “Bah humbug.”
“Have a seat, Sugar,” Ulya said as she came out of the kitchen carrying the most perfectly roasted turkey on a platter Jadis had ever seen. “I know you won’t be here long, but you should have a bite to eat while you’re with us.”
Following Ulya’s direction, Jadis took a seat at the table. Despite the fact that she knew she was too tall for the table and chair, somehow, she sat in the seat without any trouble at all. When she tried to think about the fact that either her legs should be pushing up through the table or the chair should be a couple of feet lower than the floor would allow, her brain sort of slid off of the idea.
There really wasn’t much point in trying to analyze the physics of D’s house. It did what it would do.
“You have been a royal pain in my ass, do you know that?”
Jadis stared at D, taken aback by the accusation in his tone. She almost asked what he meant by that, but caught herself before she could say anything. She knew that she only got three questions and if she used them on trivial, inconsequential questions, D would answer them and kick her out of his house regardless of how useful the answers might be to her.
Shit. She had asked Ulya who she was, hadn’t she? Jadis hoped that wouldn’t count since she hadn’t been speaking to D directly.
“No, I’m not counting you asking Ulya for her name as one of your questions,” D groused.
Jadis was almost surprised when D answered her unvoiced question, but then she remembered she was talking to a literal god. Reading minds probably wasn’t that big of a feat for deities who created worlds.
“She would harp on me endlessly if I did,” D continued as he begrudgingly held out a plate for Ulya to put a turkey leg on it. “I already have enough trouble with all these interlopers as is! I mean, look at that! All day with the offended staring! And don’t get me started on the calls and the unscheduled visits. Vill hasn’t left my backyard in over a month!”
As D loudly voiced his complaints, he motioned wildly with one hand towards the wall behind Jadis. Turning to look, she saw that there was a curtained window. The wall was close enough that with her increased size, she was able to easily reach over and pull the curtain aside.
“Holy fuck!”
The all-seeing, unblinking Eye of the Void gazed into her soul from the other side of the dining room window. Samleos, God of Death, stared with such intensity that she could feel the edges of her being tearing away from her core like mist in a storm.
Quickly shutting the curtain, Jadis turned back to look at D with open-mouthed offense.
“I didn’t tell you to open that curtain,” he cut her off with a wave of a turkey leg. “Don’t blame that on me.”
“Here, eat some of this,” Ulya said kindly as she put some kind of healthy green vegetable on Jadis’ plate, next to several slices of turkey that had appeared there while her back was turned. “You’ll feel better.”
“Ah, thanks,” Jadis replied. When Ulya gave her a cross look, she quickly amended her response. “Thank you, Granny.”
“You’re welcome, Hunny,” Ulya grinned before turning to ladle the conceptually perfect spoonful of mashed potatoes onto Villthyrial’s plate.
“Okay, just, wait a second,” Jadis took a breath before turning a reproachful gaze onto her patron. “D, you told me to shake things up. You can’t get mad at me for doing what you asked me to do.”
“Yes, I can,” D corrected her. “There is nothing to stop me from feeling any kind of emotion that I want to about your success. I am delighted. I am entertained. I am proud of what you have done so far. Good job. But look at this! They like it! They like what you’re doing so much, these old hags and that old buzzard are trying to sponsor you, too! And they will not give me a moment of peace about it!”
“Destarious…”
“I’m sorry, sorry,” D apologized to his mother, the personification of beauty. Taking her hand in his, he gave it a kiss on the back. “I didn’t mean to offend. You’re the most beautiful hag in all of existence.”
Lyssandria sighed and shook her head but instead of responding to her son’s rudeness, turned her attention onto Jadis.
“He doesn’t like the idea of sharing his toys,” she told her. “You are his little pet project, so he’s feeling possessive.”
“I’m not a toy,” Jadis frowned at the implication.
“Yes, but you’re mine, Hunny Bunny Sugarbob,” D informed her. “And I don’t appreciate you dismissing my Champion of D class option so quickly. Do you think I offer that class to just anyone?”
Jadis felt a twinge of shame wash through her. D was her patron, after all. She literally wouldn’t exist without him. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so quick to dismiss the class he had offered her.
Then she remembered who she was talking about.
“You’d probably just use the class to screw with me,” Jadis said as she took a forkful of food off of her plate.
“Yes, I would. But that is hardly the point.”
Smirking at his candid admission, Jadis took a bite of the food. It was, predictably, the most delicious food she had ever tasted. Even the single mouthful had her feeling revitalized and full of energy.
A rumble came from outside of D’s home, the deep vibration shaking the plates on the table.
“Alright, alright,” D shouted at the wall. “We’ll get on with it! For someone who has no trouble bending the rules in his own favor, you are such a stickler!”
“What do you expect,” Villthyrial mumbled around a mouthful of food. “You can’t cheat death.”
The two goddesses at the table rolled their eyes at the pun, but D giggled like a crazed kookaburra.
“Cheat death! Haha, yes, ahem,” the mad god cleared his throat. “What are your questions, my lewd little lover girl?”
“Right,” Jadis glanced apprehensively at the curtained window behind her before taking one last bite of the ambrosia in turkey form that Ulya had cooked. “So. First question because I promised. Where are the Cultists of Samleos who were involved in the attack on Eldingholt two days ago based currently?”
Wilhelm had advised Jadis against asking questions about specific names, since the cultists could be using any number of aliases and the gods usually didn’t give those kinds of answers easily. Locations were usually the better way to go to get good responses. Asking about momentous events in the near future could work, but more often than not were met with extremely cryptic replies. Any question related to the future was generally a bad idea according to the wisdom of previous oracles, or so Jocelyn had explained, but a question about the current moment would generally be better received. Thus, asking where a group of people were or where they were based out of was generally a safe question to ask. Since a base of operations could get them a lot of useful records and such, that was the first question Jadis had been given to ask.
“Must you ask such a boring question?” D leaned towards Jadis, his indistinct face obviously mocking.
“Elbows off the table,” Ulya scolded.
D huffed, but leaned back in his seat, retracting his elbows.
“They have no base currently,” D answered her question with a vaguely malicious grin. “They have packed up and dispersed.”
That had been about what Jadis had feared the god would say. It wasn’t completely useless info, but it didn’t help them find the cultists or the location of their operation. Wilhelm and Jocelyn were used to Valtar, who was likely far more generous to his followers when it came to his answers. If D didn’t like the question, he was apt to give less helpful information. That meant she would have to use another question for clarification, much to her disappointment.
“Where can we find the largest gathering of the Cultists of Samleos who attacked Eldingholt two days ago at this moment?”
“In the cabin of a ship sailing west,” D told her with a bored frown. His distracted gaze was drawn to his tablet resting on the table by his dinner plate. “Better go fast if you want to catch up.”
That was somewhat better. It gave them a direction, at least. The third question that Wilhelm had given Jadis to ask if it came down to it was about the location of whoever was leading the cult. It was a precise question, which meant it could get them a precise answer, or it could backfire into something like D telling them that the guy was currently sitting on his toilet.
Jadis was interested in finding the cult leader, but not as much as she was interested in finding out info about her tertiary class options. The second question was enough for Wilhelm and his party to find cultists who could be interrogated for more info. Besides which, they had Alex. She could find out a lot from speaking with any Demons that the empire had captured. Jadis didn’t see a need to use the last question for state business. She had her own question to ask.
The only problem was, Jadis knew that no matter what she asked, D was going to be a cryptic bitch with his response. She wanted guidance, but now that she was sitting across the table from the mad god, she was reminded of how little she could trust his opinions. He had just openly admitted to the fact that he offered her Champion of D just so he could screw with her. Would anything he had to say about her other class options be helpful?
Looking at the rest of the deities gathered, Jadis wished that she could ask them questions. They probably would have been happy to do so, from what she could tell, but with Samleos looming over all their shoulders, she got the feeling that if she tried, the death god would put forward a far more strenuous objection than just a minor grumble.
Tossing aside the various class-related questions that Jadis and her companions had come up with before performing the ritual, Jadis went with one that made more sense to her in the moment.
“Who in Eldingholt today can give me the most information that can help me make an informed decision about my tertiary class choices?”
D smirked.
“Seek out the Lamb guided by the Moon. And remember, knowledge gifted is knowledge gained.”
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