"Respice post te; Hominem te memento."

How do you know if you have made a name of yourself?

Fame and being talking about by a lot of people is definitely up there. Regardless of your personal achievements and your actual skill, being recognizable just from either your face or your name alone is a good bar to set. It’s why the term ‘household name’ is a very good measurement threshold. Tim definitely knew people personally who have businesses and personal successes to their name, yet never reached the status of being a household name. Edna and Dr. Schwartz were very influential people in Hargeon, yet the company’s name—with its scope and impact in the region—would turn heads more than them personally. Tim knew they didn’t mind that, but it bothered him slightly when he learned that fact years ago.

That being said, the opposite would also be true. There are people with little to no actual skill nor power, but had a reputation for the most miniscule of things they did. There was an old story of Hargeon town about a slaver wizard who pretended to be a Fairy Tail member, and they did it in front of the one they were supposed to be impersonating to! It would always be the first semi-anecdotal story Tim would remember and tell whenever people would ask about the town. It might have been an old wives’ tale, the story span over a century ago so there wasn’t really a concrete method to prove that it happened. But Tim now had a more recent—more personal—example of fame horribly catching up to someone.

And this example was swinging its blade for the umpteenth time, trying to cut off Tim’s limbs!

This was the first time Tim had someone actively tried to assassinate him outside of an official guild job. He was walking back to Full-Beard’s house carrying souvenirs he bought from the Halloween celebration booth when an honest to goodness assassin yelled ‘DIE!’ and tried to cleave his head. As Tim dodged his assailant’s blades his only thought was it was a good thing he let Heba and the others go back home first. Whoever this guy was, they at least waited to strike at night and over to the street where its street lights had been recently vandalized. Thinking about it, it wouldn’t be entirely inaccurate to blame it on them now and assume they might have sabotaged it so Tim couldn’t rely on its light to use his magic. If that was the case, they took time to research him. Usually when Tim used his magic, it would generally materialize as crystalized light. Any onlooked that had every intention of studying him would’ve gotten the conclusion of him having glass magic, or something close. Then again, Tim was sloppy when it came to keeping ‘his tricks underneath his sleeves’ or so the saying goes.

“Who sent you?” Tim already asked as many times as the attacker swiped their weapon, but on the off chance they might actually be cooperative later was tempting.

But the burly Joyan-looking assassin just huffed, not unlike how Wolf does, and finally took a step back. Speed wise, they were outmatched. Tim wasn’t even using his spells; he was just outclassing them physically. While the wizard wasn’t too worried about his assailant succeeding, he did note the fact they knew he stayed in Hargeon. They already might have an idea of the place he frequented!

Then the assailant smiled.

Tim flinched as he finally noticed their eyes looking over his shoulder. Before he could step aside, he felt a rubbery balloon hovered over his back. And when Tim slid back, dodging another strike, he felt heavy. The damned balloon was stuck over his back! Worse, when he tried to use his magic, the balloon bloated tenfold and became heavier. This wasn’t the assailant’s spell, was it?

“Like a shark making a home in a shoal infested with nothing but smaller fishes, you are easy to pin down.” His mystery assassin finally talked, and their voice sounded like they were swallowing marbles. “But taking your life entirely? Well, father did say ‘twas not an easy task.”

“And your father would be?” Tim summoned a glass ball of light and threw it over his shoulder, when he felt it bounce on top of the bloated balloon Tim detonated it sending shards of crystalized light bursting the bubble.

That was when Tim realized his mistake.

The explosion was big enough to shatter the all windows within the two rows of houses that made up the sides of the street! Tim was thrown across to one side, slamming himself into a large tree by the front yard of a larger looking house. He could hear people screaming from inside the house, it was either that or this was still the ringing in his ear from how loud that damned bubble was when it exploded.

“He will personally tell you after you have perished.”

“Whuzzat—?! G’me a sec, I can’t hear…anything…” Tim groaned, shaking his head as he sat keeping himself from throwing up. His back was seething, and on top of that, another balloon was somehow already stuck over half of his head.

What the hell? Was this some spell? But he didn’t even see the assailant cast anything!

“I said, he will personally tell you after you have perished.”

“Your father, you mean? Who is he again exactly? You didn’t really elaborate.” Tim was still sitting over the side of the house; he could feel the faint magic signature of the people inside. At least they knew not to play hero and try driving them off.

“Are you really that naïve? You have already asked about that, how many times now—yet still expect me to answer?”

“Yes, surprisingly.” Tim sighed. “About your father and this thing.”

He wiggled his head and let the balloon flail around, still completely stuck over the corner of his face.

“I truly wanted to tell you what these ‘bubbles’ are, if for nothing but to boast it.” They growled. “But it has been proven time and time again how so little information can lead to flips of a battle’s tide.”

‘Who the hell is this?’ Tim hissed from the pain. On top of his other eye being covered now, everything was already dark when he was attacked. If he could ride light somehow, he might be able to keep things at a distance while he observes what other tricks this bastard might have. But before that, he needed to stand back up. Unfortunately, his assailant did it for him. The wolf-looking prick stabbed Tim by the gut with a single stroke of his blade and lifted him up using nothing but the lodged horizontal weapon.

“Argh! You f—!” Tim gasped when he felt the blade cut his diaphragm. Each breath hurt!

“Feel it. Every breath you take is mercy from me.” The wolf-human looking hybrid sneered. “Each moment—”

Tim spat in his face, shooting a bloodied and crooked smile at the assailant’s reaction. In response they pulled the sword down, pointing its blade tip above to let Tim slide down the blade like a kebab. For the few seconds Tim slowly slid down his mouth was open, but no sound left it. He could barely breathe, let alone scream. He needed to do something, quick!

“When I was told you were an insolent excuse for a mortal, I did not expect this. You are out of your depth.”

Letting the clueless assassin monologue, Tim quickly concentrated his focus and breathed in as much as he could despite the broken diaphragm and let his magic burn up and get absorbed by the balloon.

“A last attempt of escape?” The hybrid scoffed.

“Something like that.” Tim materialized his chains, quickly wrapping it around the hybrid’s sword wielding arm and hooked it over his attacker’s neck. The chain was strong enough to hold a good grip forcing the wolf hybrid to raise his sword to the sky. Tim grunted as blood dripped down over the sword, but he wasn’t done! He then lowered his head, putting the bubble between him and his assailant, and smiled. “See you.”

Tim pointed a finger gun over the balloon and shot a beam of light causing an even bigger explosion!

Even if Tim’s arms were shielding his face, he felt his body flew up. When Tim finally felt his body stop at the apex of his explosion-aided flight, he materialized a ball of light and—looking at the brightest location he saw—threw it and detonated a beam of light towards him. Tim then rode the beam of light and used the momentum to land over the town park. He landed with a loud thud, ramming through a poor stone bench and into the fountain.

“Holy—! What was that?!”

“Tim?”

He could hear people from a bit further back. Tim didn’t waste his time and stood up despite the seething pain that didn’t seem to alleviate despite his attempts at healing it with his ‘Aid’ spell. If the tissues themselves wouldn’t repair, that meant there was a lingering magical energy from that bubble. Even with the advantage of being able to use the bright park lights, Tim’s recovery was horribly slow!

“Oy, Tim!” He heard one of the people hold him by his shoulders. “What happened?”

“Wolf—”

“Wolf, that large bugger y’always walk round town with?”

“No—” Tim coughed and swallowed his saliva. “Wolfman assassin… It tried to kill me.”

“Wolfman? Like a Joyan?” The man who carried him rested Tim over to one of the other stone benches. Taking a good look of the man, it looked like he was one of the workers who jump shifts around working in a ship and over the docks. Tim saw him a few times, but never really went pub crawling with the man. The other person with him was a woman in a pretty blue-white sundress.

“Bigger.” Tim hissed. “Get away from here, that guy’s still after me.”

“Right, and leave you here?” He scoffed. “We’ll take you to the town guards, they can—”

The woman cut him off. “He’s an S-wizard, right? If he couldn’t take on whoever this guy is, how can a few guards make any difference?”

“It’s a lot better than just doing noth—”

“Get down!” Tim jumped over them and landed on the opposite side, materializing a crystalized wall of light as quickly as he could!

The wall exploded from the shockwave of whatever landed, sending the shards over to all three of them! Tim was completely unharmed by the shards of light, only reabsorbing his spell. But the two behind him had their body lacerated by the broken spell. Their screams echoed as Tim saw his assailant, bloodied and bruised. Tim wanted to prioritize getting the two to safety, but he knew he couldn’t afford it while he was keeping himself from getting gutted any more than he already was by this persistent prick.

“Looks like someone isn’t as durable as they seem, huh.” Tim didn’t dial down his insults, however. At this point, anything that can throw off his attacker’s game was a victory in and of itself.

“You are quite resourceful.” They growled. “I will honor you with my name before I kill you.”

Tim huffed out a laugh, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Let’s hear it.”

“I am the one who chases the Sun. The son of the God whose material form you humiliated and forced back into the halls of Valhalla!” He howled and his already towering body morphed. From his humanoid form, the wolfman went all fours and quite literally molded his flesh into the spitting image of the Wolf God Tim had beaten in the Lycan Woods! “Skǫll! Hear my name! I am mockery incarnate!”

Tim’s face fell, this was the last place he wanted a deity to come and stomp around!

The Wolf demigod then howled, crushing the stone pathways of the park with nothing more than just the force of the sound! Tim was blown away along with the two innocents, but he managed to ride light from the park’s lights and catch them. When he then tried to look for a better place to hide them a large paw swatted Tim like a fly, slamming him into the ground. Tim saw the two also slam alongside him. Tim could survive a fall from a building, if his rough estimate of his progress on his magic was to be believed. The two others who were dragged thanks to his attempt at escaping to a light abundant area, however?

“I don’t hunt for the sake of sport, do not be alarmed.” Skǫll placed his paw over Tim’s body, leaving only the wizard’s head and arm sticking out. “Not unless they have made a mockery of my kin.”

Tim cursed under his breath as he tried to wriggle out of the gigantic wolf’s limb to no avail. He even tried slamming his free arm overhead, but the wolf only applied pressure over Tim and the ground crushed beneath him. Not even a second later Tim felt a pop over his body and he couldn’t breathe properly! Tim gasped evenly, trying to make sense what happened inside him. Then the distinct sound of crushed fresh and bone—not unlike what Tim would hear in slaughterhouses—reached his ears. It continued for a few seconds along with the wolf licking his chops echoing which made Tim’s nose flare.

“You’re dead to me.” Tim growled.

He could see a large figure overshadow the park’s light behind him. Tim knew it was the wolf’s head peering down. The wolf demigod huffed at Tim, followed by him not even moving. Tim’s pained breathing slowed. What the hell was this thing trying to do now? Then it hit him. Literally. A drop of liquid laned over his head and ran from Tim’s hair whorl down his forehead, and when the wizard caught a whiff and smelled the distinct smell of metal, he screamed.

“You’re fucking dead to me—!”

“They were slightly older, but still quite delicious.” The wolf demigod promptly stomped Tim. Again. And again. And again.

“Chaining my arm so you could escape was a very clever—albeit cowardly—tactic.”

Tim, looking up, was now facing the humungous deity. The Wolf demigod materialized his weapon and, biting the blade with his mouth, aimed it against Tim's free arm. With a quick swipe, Tim saw his limb fly off himself! It handed clumsily against the stone path.

“Arrrrrgh—!”

“You didn’t defeat him, did you?” He heard the prick’s voice echo as Tim’s consciousness was slipping. “You did something. And this something? I want you to use it, so I can promptly make a mockery of your attempt at trying to play ‘God-slayer.’”

This was the time when a power-up of sorts would suddenly come and rescue Tim from his situation. It happened once when he faced this wolf demigod’s father. He never really gotten to looking up what exactly happened to him, it hasn’t happened again since then so he brushed the whole thing off. The rest of the times he was saved by an otherworldly-slash-divine magic was when Erebus did his thing, tempting Tim to give in to his family’s ‘domain’ and succeed him. It was either that or the former, that was Tim’s life as a wizard. He’d always get a free pass for screwing situations over so long as he had his heart in the right place.

This time, he didn’t hear Erebus.

“That exiled Primordial and his family are out of their depth.” Skǫll’s mocking tone echoed.

Tim’s magic wasn’t swelling, that fluke of a power-up wasn’t coming to rescue him for a second time as well.

Should he call Wolf?

No.

She was already safe.

“A little ward my siblings maintained around this town as I surgically assassinated you was all I needed! They cannot even see unless they materialize into this realm.” His low-growl slowly turned into bellowed laughter. “What a farce!”

Tim felt it for the first time in his life:

This was it.

He was going to die.

“Any last words?”

Tim let out a breath and a frown.

“If an afterlife exists, I’ll find you from there and kill you.”

---

Hargeon—in its entirety—woke up in the dead break of dawn when an unearthly howl in the corners of the town reverberated instead of the belltower’s distinct chimes! Residents, tourists, vagabonds, tradesmen, and the town guards still in a half-drunken stupor from the celebration all scrambled to make sense of the situation. Two of the guards, per order of their chief, were sent to a particular home in the town’s residential area, where a particular wizard of Silver Wolf apparently stayed frequently.

‘He’s a friend of the Thatch family,’ the chief said with the biggest smile on his face. ‘He really has gotten far up in t’world, that boy. He worked at Miss Rollins’ before switchin to a proper guild wizard, you know? I just knew he had the chops when I found him fighting with them Brimsby boys over a—’

The two were thinking the same thing when they listened to the chief’s stories. The town already knew this guy! He was the one who brought back the lot that was taken and sold off to the Desiertans. It became a not-so-small deal in town, especially after the ones taken told them they were deep in the kingdom’s seedy underbelly, and the man just went in and grabbed the lot of them all the while destroying the trafficking ring from the inside! Before the two guards had gotten bored to death by the mayor’s further ramblings, they gave prompt ‘Yes, Chief’ and went off to the Thatch residence when they found the two-story home quite awake like the rest of the town. The lights indoors were on and people were definitely clattering around when they called from outside the fence.

“Guards?” It was Mr. Thatch who answered. “Is this about what happened in the illusion booth?”

The pair quickly asked for the wizard in question, it was concerning the wolf howl.

“If you’re asking if it was his Wolf who did it, she ain’t here.” Thatch opened the door for them to check inside. “Tim’s out for a while now too, said he’d get some souvenirs for people at his guild.”

“Must’ve gone straight to the pub, if you ask me.” Mr. Thatch’s son, Junior, scoffed with a smile.

“Probably,” His father shook his head, but the smile plastered over his face didn’t disagree.

“Well, that was only one of the reasons we were sent here, sir.” The first guard promptly said. “There were disturbances over third street and the park. And in addition to the howls and reports of wizards fighting. We were sent so he could help out—”

No one else were able to say anything else when both the main doors of the house swung open with a crash!

“Junior! Old Thatch!” A blonde man barged inside; his face completely pale. “I…the church…”

“Hey, deep breaths, man.” Junior helped him. “What is it you’re gonna tell us?”

“It’s Tim—!”

The town ordered the guards to keep a perimeter around the church, keeping people away from the place. The children, especially, were ordered to stay at their homes. Though, the people who first noticed it would never be able to get rid of the scene they saw for the rest of their lives.

The blonde man who guided the Thatch family and the guards to the church didn’t have the heart to tell them what happened, he could only tell them. He insisted for the Missus to stay, but she refused. It proved to be a horrible decision when they finally turned to the streetcorner of the church’s view when the Missus passed out just from the sight of the body on top of the church. Thatch caught his wife in his arms. Junior and Thatch stood in silence; they felt their blood drain from their faces.

They knew who it was.

It was the boy the town came to know as Tim Watt, then admitted to falsifying his name in shame of being son to one of the most prominent Oligarchs in the Neutral Grounds. The people who already knew him didn’t resent him of such a secret. How could they? He was the boy who, after joining a wizard’s guild, still helped the town through thick and thin. The residents knew him as the young man who washed up to their town one day after stowing a ship from the neutral grounds, along with numerous children who went their separate ways. The workers knew him from the times he went out drinking with them, some even saw his fights in the cages. Thatch and his family knew him as the seemingly stoic, who turned out to be very passionate, boy that became their son’s older brother he never had.

That very boy was hanging, his back facing everyone and his single arm wide apart forming half a cross with his body over golden chains with hooked tips that seemingly materialized from nowhere that keeping his cadaver afloat and shining brightly. Yet, no amount of golden glow could wash away the bright red opening of his back. And that was the picture the people of Hargeon would never forget: Tim’s back flesh was completely opened, his ribs cut up from the backbone creating a centipede-like opening of his ribs paving way to let his muscles and lungs hang down while the rest of his opened skin were hooked to sprawl between his spread-out arm and his torso forming wings. One of his legs were being held together with nothing but ripped sinew, and when it finally fell off the people around gasped. The others who were splattered by the leg and its blood scrambled away from below.

The guards were already clamoring with the clergy from the inside of the church to get him down. But by the time they were able to set him down, the sun had already risen.

A few hours had passed.

Asena was splayed across one of the Silver Wolf guildhalls’ many rooms. Her usually ethereal fur abandoned its spiritual properties and rubbed against the tatami mat, earning another lazy yawn from the luna-wolf. Her head was leaning by the floor, one eye half open as she tried her hardest to stave off another hour of sleep creeping over her. Her lone open eye landed its fading gaze around the room; she noticed the short table in the middle with a thick blanket busting from its edges into the comfy cushions on its sides, she looked over the single hardwood wardrobe on one of the room’s corners, her eye landed on the empty rolled up white mattress over another corner, and— there was nothing else. Asena was bored. At least when he was here, he would half-mutter the things he thinks about and ask her rhetorically with a ‘was that right?’ or a ‘what do you think, Wolf?’. Or, when it was an especially slow day he would just call ‘Wolf’ and stuff his head over her ethereal fur. She didn’t like it, at first, but the way he ended up sleeping over her every time was a habit she had never gotten used to.

Half day had already passed like it was nothing.

Asena was still splayed across the room of one of Silver Wolf’s wizards. She never realized how awfully prudish—borderline empty—this room had been until she had the opportunity to pay careful attention to the aesthetics of the places she had the pleasure of visiting in her misadventures. From the foreign exotic furnishings of Desierto’s buildings, to the humble yet sturdy wooden tables and chairs of a Minstrelian frontier town, and the busy interiors of a Fiorean household laden with souvenirs, not from the places the residents had been, but from their personal experiences—an old trophy from a town cook-off, a bright red toolbox bursting from the different sized wrenches and screwdrivers, and a framed photograph of a happy family. Those were the snippets of character to a place and their residents.

But Tim’s room? Asena could only roll her eyes at the complete lack of personalization the young man had actually given to the room he had ‘officially’ taken residence for months now! The low-table, the wardrobe, the mattress, and a small three-tiered bookshelf she failed to notice because it was behind her wasting away from the lack of reading material being put by the room’s owner. These things were the only things inside the midi-themed room. Besides the furnishings there was only a bowl of fruits, a pen knife, and a book titled ‘Be the Pack Leader’ written by a man named Millanius. Asena would scoff at the sheer silliness of the book, and her partner’s attempt at using it to ‘housetrain’ her.

This was the fifth time she cycled through thinking about how plain boring Tim’s room was—that was already five too many and she already saw the sunset beam its orange ray over his room! Where was he?

Tim does this all the time. Whenever he did not take any jobs from the guild, he usually takes two random places within the guildhalls, makes a coin flip for whichever one he would end up doing odd jobs for the day. This was their routine. But Tim, for whatever reason, did not take Asena for a guild job which took place in the capital. Admittedly, he did the same when he last went into the capital to take his passport. Asena didn’t understand what that exactly meant, but she did understand when he said the city was too high profile for someone like him to bring someone like her. But not accepting her help when it was an official guild job? It left the wolf to wonder.

That job was already some time ago. Since then, Tim had taken back to his usual routine. Asena, however, didn’t like his newfound independence. Especially when he came home with torn clothing, including the new dress shirt the young man had just been gifted by Miss Rollins and little Heba.

The last thing Tim told her was he going to visit Thatch and his family over at Hargeon. So long as it wasn’t a proper job, she didn’t want to intrude his time with them.

Riiiiiiiiinnng!!!

Over by the corner of the room was a rectangular lacrima designed to be a two-way communications device with the guildhouse’s fornt desk. Asena knew how to answer it, but wondered why. After herself, the front desk would the be second place Tim would give anyone a heads up where he would be going. He was the last person to neglect potential work. They knew he was away, so who was this for?

Asena nudged a button over the lacrima with her nose and waited for the other line to say anything.

“I can only hear faint breathing. Edna…? Ah, I see. This would be her then?” A coarse voice was produced by the device. “This might be very sudden, but I am Arthur Schwartz. I am one of Tim’s former bosses. If you are the spirit wolf he partnered with in his guild, I must ask for you to visit me in my laboratory. I already informed Mr. Thatch. I hope to see you soon.”

With a clack the lacrima deactivated.

Asena didn’t know what that was about. She had heard about this person from Tim’s absentminded ramblings, but calling the guild instead of making Tim call her instead? He was in Hargeon, after all. Unless something happened there? Asena then thought about the time when he went off-world into a ‘space ship’, or so he told her afterwards. By the heavens, this boy must really have a penchant for unplanned adventures! The she-wolf looked around the room. There was nothing else to do, she supposed.

---

It took Asena half a day to make it to the Thatch residence. The sun had already set when she arrived, and all she had been doing inside the house was sit with an empty gaze. Time felt slower than usual.

Everyone he knew was here: Mrs. Thatch was with Junior by the back trying to help prepare lunch while Heba was with Edna by the couch. The little girl was fast asleep, her head resting over the older woman’s lap as Edna also leaned her body back to take a quick nap. Both of their cheeks were still damp. People were entering and exiting the house, giving a quiet nod at Asena when they went past her and stepped in front of the closed casket.

There was no other creatures Asena found more meticulous in immortalizing than people. They often put their betters in a pedestal, almost a form of idolatry, as they keep their memories of them close. She understood, but never emphasized such behavior.

Having been carrying the soul of the she-wolf she was molded by, she could recall a lifetime of said wolf in the Phoenix Mountains before it died. When it did, its soul was held by the Ley Line's influence and molded a spirit in its image. That wolf's lifetime was the closest she could to personally experiencing the joys and cruelties of living. Before meeting Tim, she was no different than the other thousands of spirit wolves guarding the Ley Line since antiquity. Her life as a guardian was nothing more than a blur, hazy moments of fending off enemies, fragments of memories of the people that came and went. It wasn’t until that fateful time when she and multitude of wolves could see a light that shone brighter than the Ley Line came in one of the usual transport sleighs towards the guild house. Being the most curious among the ones that were drawn by the light, she was the one who made contact with the boy who could dip his flesh into a domain of such a divine light.

Her tasting that light, in turn, tasted the soul which brought that divine light in the material realm. Such an act awakened the memory of the soul she was molded by again and bound her new self to that old soul giving her life. It was then her life as Asena properly started. She was no longer just a dime-a-dozen fragment of a natural force. It was all thanks to him.

I never thanked you for it, have I?

Asena let out a sound between a choke and a whine, a sound she never thought she could make. Everyone who was inside the house at that moment went silent and looked at her, but she was too startled by what she just did to notice. She shook her head, trying to get a hold of what was happening. But then her pained sound became a full-blown sob.

“Oh my—” It was Edna who first broke the silence. “Come here, dear.”

The woman didn’t know Asena was a couple hundred generations older than her, but the she-wolf was too addled to even give her usual indignant huff. Instead, she went to her and closed her eyes as the woman’s hands stroked her ethereal fur. She sat beside the couch and let her head rest beside Heba’s sleeping form.

“I miss him too.” Edna said.

Unlike proper wolves, ethereal ones barely ever show vulnerability. There was a sense of regality in it. Asena, personally, had never cried once in her life.

Until now.

She felt her face flush as she cried herself to sleep as she heard the people started praying, keeping their vigil, as time finally felt like it was moving as it should.

---

A few hours had passed; Asena was still in deep sleep.

She was jolted awake when she felt a familiar presence wash over her. The she-wolf craned her head around, trying to look for Tim. After a moment of waiting for her partner's voice calling her the heavy, drowsy feeling of her stupor was slowly replaced with the sinking realization of finally remembering where she was, and what happened to him. She looked at Tim's casket one last time before she went out of the house. After she cried herself to sleep she felt no better than when she first found out about the news, the helplessness she felt was amplified by the fact the reason she was not summoned by him when he was attacked was very likely because Tim knew she wouldn't have made a difference being there. He was counting on her being safe.

Don't make me a promise when you know you can't keep it!

The shops below the Thatch residence’s two-story building were closed and instead catered the guests who had just finished praying. They were keeping a vigil while playing cards, talking, and drinking the night away. It was a strange tradition, but listening to the people gathered, they were all talking about their time with him.

“Wolf.”

Asena snapped her neck to whoever said the word, but it was only Junior standing beside her. He was also listening in to the others.

“Pops hasn’t come back since this morning.” The bags under his eyes were very pronounced, she hadn’t seen him as much earlier but she could empathize what he was feeling. “I have his towel here; would you mind tracking him down and bring him back? I don’t think Tim would want him to bottle himself up somewhere.”

Asena sniffed the towel once and nodded.

“Thanks.”

When the young man went back inside leaving her alone, Asena huffed.

Wolf, huh?

Only he was stubborn enough to keep calling herself that. Junior picked the same habit, but he started calling her Asena more often, like the others. Only her endlessly annoying partner never bothered to remember calling her other than her actual name. When Junior called her ‘Wolf’ earlier, she only heard her partner’s voice. Even in death his habit was slowly driving her insane!

The she-wolf huffed at the thought then went off to find Thatch.

She found the man in question further away from the main town and into the point where the coast ended and the cliff face towards the edges of the Neural Grounds began. He was sitting by a large driftwood sinking in the sand, beside him was a small crate of beer. Half of the bottles were already empty. Thatch turned when Asena’s feet scraped against the sand, but when he noticed it was her, he gave her a look and went back to looking straight back into the darkness of the night sea. Having been close enough she heard him talk.

“Did you know when he was ambushed, his sword wasn’t with him?”

Asena continued to walk, only stopping when she was beside the man.

“‘Why would I bring a sword to a festival?’ That’s what he said.” Thatch sniffled. “And I just shrugged it off and told him to put in over my bed.”

“Now I know what you’re thinking, it might not have changed things— but, see, even before Tim told me about you, I already noticed you’re way smarter than he thought you were. Crows, they’ve got smarts too, and I could see it in their eyes. But you? You’ve got eyes that understand things better than people ever could. Now, back on topic—”

While Asena appreciated how he talked to her like he would when he talked to other people, this was nothing more than his drunken ravings. Now then, how can she tell this man to return home?

“Good evening, Mr. Thatch.”

Before the voice reached her ears, Asena couldn’t feel any presence from around them! She grabbed Thatch by the scruff and jumped away from the driftwood. When the she-wolf finally looked around, she found a woman in black standing over the dried-up wood. She had ginger locks that draped down to her hips, her soft expression ever present. It was the same look of genuine concern this goddess had when she often talked with Asena’s partner. The she-wolf let Thatch go gently, the man yelping a ‘why’d you jump all of a sudden?’ as he landed feet first. Asena ignored the question and kept staring at the goddess.

She knew the extent of Tim’s powers. How he was usually saved by tapping into the domain of this deity, either that or letting himself loose and let Erebus’s influence wash over him. But with how Tim died and this goddess looking too confused for someone who was supposed to be there it seemed she and Asena were in the same situation. The question, then, would be 'where was she when it all went down?'

“Good evening, Madame.” Thatch walked back towards the drift wood and leaned for another beer off the wooden crate. He gestured for her to take a seat.

She nodded and sat gracefully beside him. “Please, Sir Thatch. Call me Hemera.”

“Sure.”

The pregnant silence that followed felt heavy. Only the slowly rising tide was the source of any noise around. Its crashing waves crawled up to try and pull the drift wood again. With a heavy sigh, Thatch was the first to break the silence.

“I know I’m going to regret this…” He took a few swigs off the bottle. “But who did it?”

Hemera was still silent. Asena was looking at both of them.

“Who killed Tim?”

A single tear rolled down the goddess’ cheek. “Sköll, an aspect of Mockery. He is a son of Vánagandr.”

Upon mentioning the killer’s father, Asena flinched.

“Hey, Asena. You alright?” Thatch noticed her reaction, he turned back to Hemera. “She knows these names—are they people Tim pissed off when he was on a job?”

“Yes. They are deities, some call them demi-gods. Though monsters would be a title that fits them more.” Even with her moistened eyes, there was an unbridled rage bubbling. “They have chased after me on a whim long ago. ‘For sport,’ they said. I promised Tim not to endanger myself, but knowing what they did to him? I don’t know if I could keep any of our promises anymore.”

Thatch didn’t seem to know what promises she meant. “It’s one thing to kill someone, but—”

Asena looked at them cluelessly.

“They didn’t tell you?” Thatch looked at the she-wolf, there was a pain in his eyes she understood could only mean he was there when Tim’s body was recovered. “They didn’t just kill him, Wolf. They…”

Asena then felt a pulse of magical power that resonated through her. This magic signature was Tim’s! Looking over Hemera confirmed it too, she looked directly where the she-wolf also felt the source. Asena howled, much to Thatch’s surprise. The goddess nodded and waved her hand and without ceremony the three of them was engulfed by a magical force as the world around them warped, space itself folded as they were transported to Asena assumed where she felt Tim’s presence.

But before the feeling of everything warping subsided, she was surprised the place they were going wasn’t the Thatch residence.

It was somewhere underground. There was a flight of stairs zigzagging upwards to a set of reinforced double doors that Asena had no idea where leads. The underground room, however, was well lit. The while solid walls along with the light wood-colored tiles were keeping a tidy façade of the place. But that was all that made it organized. The rest of the furniture and equipment were telling her the contrary. This was a laboratory, a spitting appearance to the ones she would see on the crime television programs she watched over the guild house’s lobby when her boredom went through its peak. And for a laboratory being kept in such a room, it was a very well supplied one. There were the usual apparatuses she recognized from the shows, but then there were entire couch sized machines that she had no idea how or what it was used for.

But even among the busy looking contraptions there was a single metal table-looking contraption which looked like the entire surface area was a sink of sorts which was angled to a proper sink looking part on one side of the surface. On the table was an opened black plastic bag.

“An embalming table?” Hemera asked.

“Huh? What happened? Everything was spinning—I didn’t drink too much again, did I?” Thatch was woozy, his legs were barely keeping himself together. “Hey, why are we in Dr. Schwartz’s lab?”

“Miss Asena and I felt Tim’s magical signature suddenly, Sir Thatch.” Hemera explained. “I transported us to its source. I kept us transmogrified in a state of a nonentity. Only individuals of exceptional magical power can even detect our presence.”

The man furrowed his brow. “Never mind all that. Shouldn’t his body be back home?”

A loud clatter echoed throughout the otherwise silent room. A man wearing a dress shirt and a pair of trousers—one not unlike what Tim usually wore—entered the room screaming.

“There has to be something here!” His baggy face betrayed his age, or was it the lack of sleep? Asena was too focused to what the man had been doing to think too deeply of either reason. “I’m half bloody done! Just…a little more…”

He fell on the floor, his body giving out. If his half-lidded eyes were any indication, it looked like he hadn’t slept for quite a while now. He was even talking to himself, again, not unlike how she would hear Tim absentmindedly mutter. Her partner really took in a lot of mannerisms from this man. “You foolish boy! I—we…we planned everything for you…”

He slowly stood up and walked towards a translucent glass pod.

“You were supposed to be the future. Our legacy.” He caressed the glass, leaning over as its translucency subsided revealing—

“Tim!” Thatch stepped forward, that warping sensation overwhelmed them again and after a fraction of a second, they felt the coldness of the room. They were now physically in the room. “Why is his body here, Dr. Schwartz?!”

A loud alarm sounded and red lights blinked. But with a flick of his finger, Dr. Schwartz disabled it.

“Good evening, Thatch.” His back was still against them. “I didn’t even notice you come in, nor the security measures until now, for that matter. Is this the she-wolf’s ability?”

“It would be mine.” Hemera stepped closer. “I am Hemera—”

“Welcome to my humble laboratory.” Asena, who was standing slightly angled on the doctor’s side, saw him grin. “I’ve never had a fully-fledged deity in the premises. I am honored by your presence, milady.”

His expression told her otherwise. There was an untold grudge in the good doctor’s eyes, one that Asena recognized was a spitting look Tim had when he first properly conversed with Erebus and when he faced the Wolf-God. Hemera must have noticed it as well, because when he finally turned to look at them the goddess looked back at him with pity. “Were you the one who filled him with unneeded hatred for our kind?”

“Yes, I was the one who helped Tim understand the nature of us mortals' relationship with the Gods.” He sneered. “Do not undersell the boy’s realizations, however. I could never do such a feat as using a deity’s domain as my own just from ‘feeling it’ alone. Even after Tim wanted me to do the same for the sake of our research, there was a set of fundamentals I could never understand—”

“Spare me your lecture, Doctor.” Hemera scoffed. “Why isn’t Tim laid to rest?”

“He is.” He took a small step to his side, gesturing them to have a loo. “See for yourself.”

“Why isn’t he properly laid to rest?!”

“So, what, they could bury him where his body would well and truly be dead?!” He slammed his hand over to the glass, but it didn’t leave so much as a scratch. “I did what I had to do so he could be kept within arm’s reach for so long, but those vipers in that guild wrapped their fangs over him—you lot led him to death!”

Thatch tried to say something edgewise. “He was—”

“Wasn’t he already well and satisfied with his work, Thatch?!” He snarled at the older man. “Didn’t I confide in you how he would eventually inherit what Edna and I built?! His death…this is also in your hands.”

“And did you know what he said when I told him? He said your work and Edna's wouldn’t be something he earned.” Thatch fell on his knees, tears along his cheeks. “I know what I did, Arthur.”

“Your tears can’t bring him back, you misled fool.” Despite his insult, the doctor’s face softened looking at Thatch. “Even I couldn’t do such a miraculous thing. I could only keep his body alive.”

Asena couldn’t even see the other two’s reaction from how fast she dashed towards the glass pod. She shoved the doctor aside and looked at Tim’s body.

The she-wolf’s ethereal tears fell on the glass, running down the pod’s sides as she finally realized what they meant when her partner wasn’t just killed: Tim’s body was completely naked on the inside of the pod, dimly lit on all sides with lights from inside the pod. Everything around him was littered with blackish sutures. One large surgical scar ran from the side of his torso, across his hips, and around his back where she couldn’t see the rest of it. His right arm and left leg were missing; everything past his right shoulder and everything below the lower half of his thigh was gone. These wounds inflicted together would kill any mortal, and Tim never considered himself to be anything other than one. Yet despite everything, his bronze skin was not any paler, his chest rose and fell exactly when she saw him sleep just a few nights prior.

Asena softly whined, calling to her partner.

“You can tell…” She heard the doctor talk. She looked back at Dr. Schwartz and found him standing slightly beside her.

“I kept what remained of him alive, as much as I could. It was a surgical miracle.” He muttered. “But what good is it? His soul hasn’t come back.”

“This shouldn’t be,” Hemera said softly. “How come Tim soul isn’t here? There’s no one that could’ve claimed it!”

Dr. Schwartz turned back at her. “I don’t know the extent of the domain between Gods, especially among pantheons that outnumber mortals in this world. But if you don’t even know, then my way truly is the only way to retrieve him.”

“What do you mean?” Thatch looked up at them. “Can we really revive Tim?”

“Revive is not entirely accurate. His body isn’t dead, not anymore.” Dr. Schwartz mused. “It’s more along the lines of spiritually suturing his soul back to his body.”

“Semantics.” Thatch shrugged.

“For once, Thatch, it isn’t just me being clever.” The doctor produced a crystal pearl the size of his thumb. It had an ominous aura surrounding it while a green foggy light swirled around from the inside. “This is a siren’s gem.”

“Ones they use to rip a man heart off his body?” Thatch looked at the gem with suspicion.

Asena and Hemera, however, were clueless.

The older man frowned. “How did you procure that, Arthur?”

“I synthesized it using lacrima.” There was a hint of pride in his voice. “But I already tried it twice, yet it wouldn’t stabilize with Tim’s lacrima.”

“I wouldn’t know if just forging it would make it as effective as the genuine article.” Thatch slowly stood up. “These sirens strengthen their gems with the souls they steal. I don’t think Tim would want anyone killed on his behalf.”

“Which is why I am tasking Asena to get one.”

The three of them looked at Schwartz.

“There are gems from Sirens that call themselves ‘Queen’ have endured more than thousands of souls tempering their quality.” The doctor began. “Fortunately for us—though not as much for the ones victimized—there were reports of people’s souls in the river village being stolen. The matter had been solved already, but a siren queen and her gem were now out of souls that strengthened her. We both know sirens can weave gems from magic, Thatch. I suggest stealing this stronger gem—without killing the siren, should you lot wish—and bring it to me so I can have an opportunity to return Tim to us.”

There was nothing but the beeping of Tim’s pod that kept the room from a deafening silence. Asena leaned her head close to the pod, feeling Tim’s warmth from the glass, before standing straight up and walking up into the staircase.

“I can transport us to the River village in to time, Miss Asena.” Hemera stopped the she-wolf. “Please look after Tim for us, Sir Thatch.”

Before the two men could say anything edgewise the goddess and the ethereal wolf were already gone.

For the past weeks, the Cloud Sea’s eponymous cumulonimbuses were rougher than usual. Even the usual grayish clumps would often leave heavy rain and little wind. But since the day a Siren Queen was defeated and lost her precious gem’s souls, she had taken hold of the seas and summoned supercells upon supercells to bend the winds and the seas, dissuading any creatures from trying to conquer her in her most vulnerable state. From the beaches of Motor City until the shores of the Holy Castle in northern Fiore, the people could see the horrible spiraling storm clouds. Adding to the horror were reports of giant tentacles crushing ships that were trying to get away from the Cloud Sea when the storms started.

Alma was regaining her lost vitality. Up above, her Leviathan was keeping the seas safe with his storms and her Kraken were sinking as many ships as they could. She had so much power, only for it to be taken away by a tar monster! In the many occasions she had taken souls from the northern River Village, such a creature had never existed until her latest foray. Was it a creature that found itself in the area? It seemed to be sentient when she fought it. Regardless, she was left to recover in isolation. Without her supply of souls, her magic was far from its strongest.

She had been recuperating. For the first week, she healed her body. The later ones were her trying to concentrate the rest of her power into her gem. The Siren Queen had no illusions about her situation; this was about survival. She can worry about pride after she could gather more souls.

Then a magical pressure could be felt from the sea’s surface.

Alma opened her glowing golden eyes and swam by the opening of the underwater cave she hid in. Her pets were guarding her; she trusted them. But the sheer power under that magical pressure that appeared was alarming.

---

In the middle of the unnatural storms converging around the Cloud Sea was a single ship. It was a decade old Ca-Elumian Vortishire class Corvette that was bought by the Fiorean Coast Guard and had been used to patrol the area. That is, until the recent attacks by a Siren Queen that left most of the patrolling ships to protect the affected areas rather than trying to push into the storm.

This vessel in particular, however, braved into the eye of this barrage of heavy rain and wailing winds at the request of the River Village. The mayor called for a cry for help when her village was raided by the same Siren Queen that was rampaging, but the coast guard came too late. It was only because of a villager who apparently stopped the Queen and forced her into retreat.

“Yer askin’ for a suicide mission, Ma’am.” The Captain could only look at the woman with a frown.

But all she asked was to bring two individuals into the heart of the storms: a woman wearing a short black dress and a wolf whose fur looked like it was wreathed in a purplish flame.

Is she a wizard then? Was the question he never gotten to ask the mayor because after a half hour attempt of convincing the woman it was a bad idea he received orders from a superior officer to, and he quoted, ‘do whatever the lady asks.’

This led him to hours more of inflicting endless torture over his crew and his ship.

This broad better be giving results soon! He grit his teeth as the ship creaked across a large wave. He then picked up a radio and screamed. “Are we close enough yet?!”

The answer was nothing but static.

“Cap’n! This is a bloody circus, sir!” His helmsman looked like he was running his thoughts across every ounce of skill and experience he had just to keep the vessel from breaking itself from the waves it was going against.

“We have our orders, lad.”

“The largest supercell is too far. Sir, I don’t think she’ll make it.” The helmsman was a brave young man, the Captain only ever heard of him nervous twice. The first time was when he heard he had a baby boy waiting for him back home, the second was his comment just then.

Thud!

The Captain and the Helmsman was thrown into the bridge’s front consoles with a hard crash. The older man stood up first, feeling like he had one of the worst hangovers of his life! He kept his legs together, groggily walking towards the younger man and checked if he was still, yes, he was alive. Thank the Gods for small miracles.

The northern islands of Ca-Elum were still a few hours away, so what on Earthland did we hit?

The Captain heard loud howl and a bright light engulfed the bridge. He squinted from how bright the light was. It was only until his eyes finally adjusted he was able to see from the bridge’s windows that the storm was no longer there. It was completely gone!

“By the Gods, the storm is gone?” The Captain heard his helmsman mutter.

His radio then went lively with the static and a singsong voice echoed in the bridge. “Are you all alright, Captain?”

“I don’t know how you did it, Lass. But you bloody stopped a disaster—”

“It was this creature that was causing the storms.”

The two ran towards the windows of the bridge to look at what she meant. To their unparalleled surprise, there was a titanic Sea Serpent’s length hanging over the deck at the bow of the ship! The vessel was leaning slightly forward, but it was able to hold the weight of the creature. The rest of the crew were already running outside trying to have a look. Between them and the creature itself were their two passengers. The woman looked like the storm added more to her beauty rather than the opposite. Even with her hair completely soaked, she only dried it with a few strokes off its entire length. She was utterly elegant; it completely caught the eye of the crew. The purple wolf, however, was staring at the sea creature with a solemn look in its face.

When the Captain and the helmsman joined up with the rest of the crew below the Sea Serpent ‘s length was still hung by the bow of the ship.

“Is it dead?” He asked the lady in black.

“No, we knocked it unconscious.” She hummed.

“Kill it.” One of his crewmates said out loud.

“Try it, and I will personally rip your soul off your body and put in the body of a dried-up starfish. ” An unknown voice echoed across the entire ship.

A large pillar of water shot up the air and transformed its peak into a throne. Sitting on top of the pillar was a siren. She had hair that flowed as if they were made of water and her eyes were enamoring every one of the Captain’s crew.

“If you had planned on killing my pet, you would have done so.” The Siren Queen locked her gaze over to the lady in black. “What plot have you in store?”

“I only seek your gem, Alma.” The lady curtsied.

“That is Queen Alma to you!” The Siren looked at them with disgust. “And why would I let you have a modicum of my magic which I spent centuries of perfecting?”

The Captain heard a single sound of metal being unsheathed. He looked back and saw the purplish wolf pulling an Iser sword from a scabbard harnessed around its back. The sword glinted under the sun’s glow showing runes that were hollowed out into the blade’s fuller.

“You are mountains away from your frozen home, Spirit Wolf.”

The wolf growled, tightening its maw as it gripped the sword.

“You do not want this fight, Alma .” The Lady took a step forward. “Not unless you want your pet’s head washing ashore in the beaches of Fiore.”

“You would dare—?!”

The Captain had no clue why this woman wanted the Siren Queen’s gem, but considering these were able to stop the storms he had no say on the matter. He wasn’t being controlled by the Siren’s magic, unlike his crew, but he was far from capable of taking the monster down.

His and the crew’s fate was in the hands of the how this negotiation would end.

---

Asena could see it in her eyes, there was an unseen desperation in the Siren Queen’s voice. Did the events she set in motion led to her own demise? Very much so. It was her fault to begin with, seeking power wherever she went. But then again, Asena understood how cutthroat nature was. Threatening her ‘pet’ was them being no different than how the Wolf God threatened her old partner back in the Lycan Woods. Motives were irrelevant when that someone’s life is hanging on the balance. But when Asena would think about what the Siren gem would be used for, she can muster to swallow her own morals. She wasn’t there when he died, she will not leave the possibility of reviving him to the wayside.

Fortunately, Hemera’s threat did well for both of them. The Siren Queen would rather give up her jewel rather than let the sea serpent die. Alma threw the golden pearl-like gem at Hemera, summoned a torrent of water to grab her companion and, with a last glare of complete hatred directed at them, dove back into the water leaving the ship with the still enamored crew.

Hemera flashed a bright light and the crew were left dumfounded, the spell finally broken.

“Let us go back, Miss Asena.” She told the she-wolf.

With another flash of light, the two disappeared.

---

It was already nighttime when Asena finally returned to the guild house. There were people, guests who were there for the hot springs, who looked at the large she-wolf walking casually inside the lobby. They would be right to notice the differences. Asena was unclad with the purplish magic she bore when she went outside which made her visually no different than the other guardian wolves by the grounds of the guild house. But she had A large duffle bag hung over her neck, and over her back was a harness housing a sheath and an Iser sword.

The she-wolf stopped when she was by the front desk.

“Is Mr. Timson still outside?” One of the front desk staff asked absentmindedly, scribbling over a ledge. “The coast guard reported a wizard with a wolf stopped a Siren Queen by the Cloud Sea earlier today. They said the river village mayor directed them to our line when they asked who to report.”

Asena unzipped the duffle bag with her maw and picked up a folder from inside and left it over to the desk.

“Ah, thanks.” The staff smiled at her as he shuffled through the contents of the folder. “He’ll be spending the night back in Hargeon, huh? Would be nice to have him call in advance and not just have you and this for confirmation—”

But as he kept reading on, his face went pale.

“What? He’s…”

The she-wolf looked at him as he kept on reading.

“I’m sorry,” He choked up. “I, this is all too sudden.”

But his brow curled when he read a particular part of the papers. “I can’t do this, Asena. Officially registering you as a guild wizard would be a better alternative. You can have his room.”

Asena howled softly, looking at the man.

“I can’t just register jobs you have done under his name! I…”

She huffed in response.

The man pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, I’ll try to write something up. But if anyone from up top says otherwise, I can’t do anything for you.”

Asena nodded and walked back to their room.

She wriggled out of the harness which housed the sword and left it beside the duffle bag on top of the table when she was finally back. But the she-wolf stopped when she was in full view of the room’s seemingly sparce furnishings.

She stared at them, hard, wanting to see something happen again. She wanted to see the room’s doors to slide open and have Tim walk inside and fall flat on the floor from overworking himself. She wanted to see Tim leaning his elbow with utter boredom over the low-table, whittling a piece of wood he picked up from the grounds and try to make a terrible wood carving, only for her to huff at his work with disapproval. She wanted to see Tim rolling around the mattress like a madman when he sleeps. Hell, she wanted to see him to try and use the self-help pet housetraining book! She swears she will indulge his attempt, this time. She’ll even pretend to laugh at some of his jokes if that meant he would come home. The she-wolf sat back over her spot in the room waiting for something, anything to happen.

She knew it wouldn’t happen for a while. And if Dr. Shwartz would fail in doing anything with the magic gem she and Hemera gave him?

It would never happen again.