Chapter 63 – Unnecessary Additions
Orestis stepped through the gate and into the courtyard of Lyse’s temple.
Before they had left the temple earlier in the day, he had asked one of the priestesses about a suitable gating location. Apparently, the courtyard’s eastern alcove had been designated for exactly that purpose.
Convenient.
At least one perk of being Lyse’s Chosen now, was that he would no longer need to walk from outside the city every time.
Not that the convenience was a worthwhile payoff for everything else. But he’d take what he could get.
He walked out of the temple to check the usual spot. Maxim was not there.
Is he out chasing women again?
Orestis had no desire to run around the city looking for a man who may or may not even be on the streets. Fortunately, he had a much easier solution.
Where is the idiot, by the way? he sent through the link to Lyse.
The reply came immediately: He is still in the sanctum.
Still? Wait, that’s right. Now that he thought about it, it hadn’t really been that long since he’d left. It just felt longer because of everything that had happened.
Orestis made his way through the temple corridors, nodding to a priestess who inclined her head as he passed. The temple was quieter at this hour; the evening services had concluded and most of the clergy had withdrawn.
And perhaps it was because the idiot wasn’t around to flash his smile at every single woman—making it seem like there were more of them—but Orestis now noted that the temple’s staff was fairly evenly split between men and women.
Knowing Lyse’s tendencies, she probably hires them in pairs.
Orestis decided not to ask—he was probably happier not knowing.
He walked into the sanctum and found Maxim inside, exactly as Lyse had said he would be. Although, he was standing next to the far wall. And he was standing perfectly still, facing said wall.
Orestis stopped in the doorway and watched for a few seconds. Maxim did not turn or acknowledge his presence. The idiot just stood there like a statue.
“What are you doing?” Orestis asked.
“My Goddess decided that I should reflect on my actions by staring at this wall,” Maxim replied with sorrowful acceptance.
Oh. Right. I did give her that idea, didn’t I?
Looking at it objectively, standing still and staring at a wall was hardly something that would qualify as a punishment. Not by any normal standard, anyway. Then again, with his curse, the boredom could be considered as the punishment.
Orestis smiled. It was also somewhat funny, seeing Maxim being punished like a misbehaving child.
That thought made him pause.
Wait, I’m in no position to be making fun of him. I’m also here because my mother told me to.
He suppressed a sigh.
Might as well get this over with.
“I discussed the gathering idea with Eirene’s mother. And with mine” Orestis said. “They both thought a lunch was a good idea.”
“Of course it was,” Maxim said. “Was there ever any doubt?”
Ignoring his gloating, Orestis said, “Unfortunately, my mother also told me to invite you.”
Maxim nodded. “That makes sense. I’d liven the place up. Your energy tends to be somewhat dreary.”
“My mother doesn’t even know you.”
“Good point.” A pause. “So why did she invite me? Did you tell her I gave you the idea?”
“No. She seems to have decided we are friends,” Orestis sighed.
Maxim’s head jerked to the side, almost breaking his wall-facing stance—but then he caught himself. “That’s absurd.”
“Right?”
“Whatever gave her that idea?” Maxim asked.
“I told her we fight all the time. She chose to interpret it generously.”
“Yeah, that wasn’t exactly the best choice of words.”
“In hindsight, no.” Orestis folded his arms. “Anyway, you’re invited. And make sure you don’t make a mess while you’re there.”
Maxim sounded offended. “Do you think I’m you?”
“And don’t hit on anyone.” Orestis paused for emphasis. “You make a pass at my mother, and I’m throwing you into a latrine pit, and locking you there.”
Maxim let out a short laugh. “As if you could, now.”
“You’re right. I can’t physically overpower you at the moment. But I am perfectly capable of cursing you to smell the most foul odours imaginable. Constantly. Even with your curse blocking sensation, smells would still register.”
Of course, the curse will eventually adapt so that he’ll no longer be bothered by it. But he doesn’t know that.
Maxim was quiet for a moment. Then said, “You actually know something that petty? That barely even qualifies as a curse.”
“And yet,” Orestis said, just a bit too pleasantly, “it is perfect to use against you.”
“You do have a point,” Maxim conceded after a moment. Then he added, “You know, I’m surprised you didn’t simply refuse to invite me.”
“I did. But then she used her…” He searched for the right words. “You know that tone that mothers use—the one that makes arguments irrelevant and unwise?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Maxim said. “I was an orphan.”
Right. Makes sense—it had been quite a war-torn era.
“Anyway,” Orestis said, “talking to you while you’re talking to a wall is annoying. I’ve given the invite. Up to you whether you come or not.”
“Sure. We’ll see what My Goddess decides.”
Orestis nodded and turned to leave.
If I’m lucky, Lyse will just keep him here for the rest of the month.
Unlikely—but one can hope.
***
Orestis teleported back to his room—the one in his house in Orthessa. He stepped out and heard someone moving downstairs.
Sounds like Eirene has been back for a while.
He went downstairs and paused. Something was different.
The sitting room—which that morning had contained a table, four chairs, and nothing else—now had cushions on the chairs. There was also a woven rug beneath the table.
Orestis noted the tea set on the counter was not the old ceramic one he’d been using. And there were new curtains—ones that matched the rug—on the windows.
Eirene was in the kitchen, unwrapping what appeared to be a set of cooking implements from cloth packaging. Several other parcels sat on the counter beside her, still wrapped.
She looked up when he entered. “Welcome back.”
“What happened to my house?” he asked.
Actually, he could see what happened—he was asking why she bothered getting all the unnecessary stuff. That old tea set had been perfectly fine, for example.
“It was bare,” she replied.
“It was functional.”
“Those aren’t mutually exclusive.” She set down a ladle and gestured at the sitting room. “The rug was inexpensive. The cushions were on sale. And you needed a proper tea set; the old one had a small chip on the handle.”
It still poured tea. The handle was decorative.
He chose not to argue. Partly because she was right about the handle, and partly because the house did, objectively, look better.
He sat down on one of the newly cushioned chairs. It was more comfortable than he expected. And he liked how the rug and curtains matched.
I probably shouldn’t say anything. She’ll take that as permission to redecorate everything.
He glanced at her and saw that she was giving him a wry look.
“The house could use some renovating,” she said, likely reading his expression.
Orestis rubbed at his face, wondering if he should cast a spell on his face to look expressionless.
Eirene rolled her eyes and returned to her unpacking. “How was your day?”
“Productive. I met with the textile contact my father asked me to see. Terms are solid, they’ll correspond directly from now on.” Orestis smiled. “Dalani actually gave me one half of the new call nodes to hand over to my father.”
Eirene nodded. “Yes, commercialisation of the new design has been going well. We’re all making quite a profit.”
By all, he assumed she was talking about everyone involved in the development. The Consortium was quite practical about such things. They distributed a percentage of the profits to everyone involved—an incentive structure designed to reward innovation.
“Yes, it seems all of the merchants have started using them. When I went to see my father earlier, his table was cluttered with them.” The sight had given him an idea. “I’m thinking of making something to link all of those separate nodes so that he wouldn’t need waste so much space. Do you want to take the idea to the Consortium again?”
She shook her head. “No, you should take this one.”
Orestis made a sound of acknowledgement.
Makes sense, I suppose.
“What about you?” Orestis asked. “How was your day?”
Eirene’s expression shifted at that. Her expression softened into something lighter, almost eager, beneath the composure. “Eleuthera took me to see the cutest thing. Have you seen a mauthet before?”
So, Eleuthera made her move.
That was fine—so had he.
“Yes, I’ve seen a few,” Orestis replied.
Eirene actually set aside the unpacking to sit next to him to tell him all about her experiences with the shadow kitten.
She walked him through it from the beginning—where she first saw it, how it watched her, the way it moved through the shadows. Her hands came alive as she spoke, sketching out shapes in the air: the fallen log, the patch of shadow, the way the tendrils rose and shifted. Every detail mattered; none were omitted.
He listened with the patience of someone who knew interruption would only make it longer.
“… and then, it sank back into the shadow and retreated. The whole time it was watching me,” she finished with a smile.
At least, he assumed she was finished. That, or she’d finally remembered that breathing was still a necessity.
“Which god did you draw from?” he asked. She’d forgotten to mention it—because clearly it wasn’t all that important compared to the rest.
“Eleuthera said it was a god called Somnax.”
Right. The same one he usually drew from. As long as she used it only to feed the cat, she’d be fine. But it would be really bad if she were to draw too much.
So Orestis had to make sure she understood that. “He’s safe for domestic use. But never try to draw from his reservoir when you need to do any heavy lifting. If you disturb his sleep, things will get messy.”
“What do you mean? I haven’t had time to go to the Divinarium to read up on him yet.”
“Somnax sleeps all the time—enjoys it, apparently. So much so that, if anyone wakes him, he doesn’t bother to ask questions. He smites away the disturbance and goes straight back to sleep.”
Eirene frowned, then asked, “How much is too much?”
“I told you before; enough power to wipe out a city. Anything less and most won’t notice. Not everyone is like Lyse.”
Orestis paused and made a face. “That reminds me—did you know she is so stingy that she hadn’t even given me enough to open a gate?”
Eirene opened her mouth, stopped, then smiled. “Eleuthera says that badmouthing Lyse is liable to put your accounts in the negatives.”
As the same time, Lyse sent: It’s not there yet, but you did just lose a few points.
Orestis grimaced and said, “Wait, I can’t even complain?”
Lyse sent: You can complain all you want—to me. But criticising me in front of others is just bad manners. You’re lucky she’s my best friend’s Chosen; that’s the only reason you’re not in the negative.
“What’s this accounts thing she’s talking about?” Eirene asked, getting up and going back to unwrapping her packages.
Orestis explained the system Lyse had for her Chosen, as well as how that affected him. As in, how the goddess didn’t want him to use other reservoirs, how she had given him a loan to open gates, and that he now had to make up the difference.
By the time he was done, Orestis could see the corner of Eirene’s mouth twitch. She was trying not to smile.
“Just say whatever you want to say,” he said, rolling his eyes.
“I was going to say that Eleuthera has never restricted my power usage or asked me to bring anyone flowers.”
Orestis sighed. “I am aware. You don’t need to rub it in.”
The almost-smile became an actual smile, though she had the grace to direct it at the painting she was unwrapping rather than at him.
“There was something else,” she said, changing the subject. Probably in consideration for him. Not that it was necessary; he was not nearly as constrained as it appeared on the surface.
“I was also asking around about healers while we were shopping,” she continued. “It seems most of them aren’t even in the city. There’s a new illness spreading through villages to the north. No one had specifics—only that it resists conventional remedies and has been ongoing for weeks. Based on what you’ve told me about the Saintess, an unexplained illness in the villages would draw her.”
Orestis nodded. “It’s very likely. Do you want to go look for her in the villages?”
“Yes, but I’m not sure if that is a good idea. There’s a chance we could catch the illness.”
“You mean I could catch it,” he said.
Aura users rarely ever got sick. And anything that would affect them would have already killed off any normal villager. The fact that people were still discussing treatments, rather than plagues, meant the illness was not that serious.
When Eirene gave him a look confirming his assertion, he said, “No need to worry. I can shield myself to detect and eliminate all foreign substances. It’s easy.”
In fact, the healing enchantment on his coat already covered such things. But since he was going to walk into a disease-affected zone, he would obviously take extra precautions.
Eirene nodded. “We should ask at the Healer’s Guild for specifics tomorrow. Get a list of the villages affected; that would narrow our search.”
Orestis agreed and picked up a package, thinking he might as well help out. It happened to contain a pair of wooden serving spoons.
Why would we even need this?
He decided not to ask her. Some things were better left alone.
Orestis picked up another package.
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