Chapter 124: Back Home (Patreon)

Melia woke up with a croaking yawn and something resembling a magical hangover. It worried her a little that, even with her draconically enhanced memory, her recollection of the last few relative hours was fuzzy. Perhaps knowledge of the realm of the gods was not meant for mortal minds, but as Melia was slowly coming to understand, she was decidedly not mortal.

Normally, stabbing oneself with a poisoned dagger usually didn’t allow a person to wake up after they closed their eyes, but here Melia was. And after playing back Celestara’s words, it didn’t sound like the goddess of resurrection was entirely responsible for bringing Melia back. Given enough time, she would have regenerated and recovered.

Nice to know she could essentially walk it off. To anything.

“L’menia, quit playing around,” Melia heard Lethia chastise her other [Retainer]. “Lady Meliastraza is stirring. We must welcome her back.”

Melia opened a bleary eye and stared down at the ground. She’d obviously reverted into her dragon form, which…somebody had told her. Was it Celestara or Chaos? The divine haze wanted to waft it away from her mind like the remnants of a fading dream, but her draconic memory was much stronger than that. Still, it was jarring to wake up to a much different perspective than she expected, even if the location of her [Retainer]’s voice told her whatever people were around were far below her ears.

“Lady Meliastraza, welcome back,” Lethia said, leading the 3 huge maids while they bowed in unison. Her giant eye swiveled around to each of them in turn, drinking them in. How blessed was she to have such wonderful, devoted servants? Such a caring family? Truly, she didn’t deserve their devotion.

“You seem remarkably calm addressing someone who’s supposed to be dead,” Melia drawled. “To be honest, I don’t know if I’m supposed to be surprised or not.”

“You gave us quite a scare!” L’menia mewled honestly. That was one of the things Melia really liked about her tigerkin; she always wore her emotions on her sleeve. It made her words so much more…genuine.

“I don’t like feeling powerless,” Layalee admitted. “But there was nothing we could do.”

“At first, Lady Brandywine tried healing you,” Lethia said, bowing her head. “Never have I heard someone curse the gods so vehemently as the [Saint]. But even her healing, as miraculous as it is, could not counteract the poison of your blades.”

That was why Melia chose that particular dagger. She had a hunch Brandy wouldn’t let her go quietly, not since she had to watch Melia waste away in her past life too. But there was no other way to send her back, even if they spent the next 50 years training tirelessly to beat the Demon King on their own terms. He was not, as it turned out, the Dark Lord. Melia would have had to die regardless if Brandy ever wanted to go home, and Melia didn’t want to cause her friend a lifetime of anguish.

Melia could only smile wryly at her [Retainers] and prayed someday they might forgive her. That someday Brandy might forgive her. Melia wouldn’t be surprised if, after all Brandy went through, the pain she must have gone through losing a loved one twice, she never wanted to return to Ebonvale again.

But at the same time, Brandy wouldn’t be Brandy if she didn’t do everything in her power to at least try to save Melia.

“I hope she didn’t strain herself too much,” Melia sighed, “Trying to bring me back.”

“She got [Mana Exhaustion],” Lethia said grimly. Melia cringed; that was a state dreaded by all magic users. The debuff reduced one’s magical stats (on top of giving them a killer migraine) for pushing their body past its natural limits far after they ran out of mana. It wasn’t something that could be done by accident either; it required a remarkably powerful will to force a body to generate mana from its own life reserves.

“And when that failed,” Lethia continued, piling on the guilt (even though she wasn’t intending to), “She got [Potion Sickness] from drinking every [Mana Potion] she had.”

Ouch. Melia let out an audible groan, a deep, rumbling sound that made the ground tremble. Brandy was not going to be pleased with her the next time they met up.

“And that’s with Queen Moeldywn funneling her reserves into the [Saint] through magical transfer,” Layalee added.

Melia’s eyes widened. She should have expected it, but her friends really pulled out all the stops, didn’t they? Moeldywn was the strongest magical being (besides herself) that Melia had met in this world. Her mana pool was deep.

“Honestly, they kept you on the brink far longer than should have been possible,” Lethia said, shaking her head. “But in the end, it was not meant to be. I suppose it was for the best, however, as the moment your health pool drained completely, Eluna’s necklace shattered. She was engulfed in a pillar of light as Celestara was released. Her holy avatar of an angel on high floated above us all and communed with the [Saint]. We couldn’t hear what they said, but it must have soothed Eluna’s rage marginally, because she no longer looked like she wanted to drag the goddess into the deepest hells. The [Saint] told us everything would work out in the end, and that you would eventually wake up in a few days once Celestara called you back. She said she needed to leave for a time, but she, too, would return soon. We have eagerly awaited the moment you wake up to see if you can make any sense of the goddess’ words.”

Melia nodded. That sounded like a very Moeldywn and Brandy thing to do. But…something didn’t add up.

“Didn’t I send you away?” Melia asked, tilting her head. “Didn’t you take [Sunrise] back to Horizon?”

“Do you really think so little of us that we wouldn’t know when our mistress is in dire peril?” Lethia asked, clearly wounded. Melia scrunched her head in on her body in shame. “The moment we felt your life force dip, we scrambled through your portal. We came across a scene none of us could have ever expected: your gnomish body with a dagger sticking out of your chest. Queen Moeldywn explained that you stabbed yourself to fulfill Eluna’s quest, and only once you passed away did your body revert to its draconic form.”

“And now that you have returned,” Layalee added far-too-cheerily in her bubbly voice, “I believe it’s time to summon the Queen. She demanded to be notified of any change in your condition immediately.”

Judging from Layalee’s savage smile, Melia knew she was about to receive some extreme comeuppance.

“Wait,” Melia hastily interjected. “Let’s talk about this. Can’t we pretend I’m still sleeping for a little while longer? Surely Melody doesn’t need to know immediately. Let’s give her a few more days to cool off.”

“As if that will lessen her annoyance with you,” Lethia denied ruthlessly. But it was already too late; L’menia had already stepped through the portal. Melia couldn’t actually see her walk through, since it wasn’t in her line of sight, but she felt her treasure sense detect a [Feather Toy] far, far away from the [Feather Dusters].

Within a minute, the [Feather Toy] returned, accompanied by a rather spectacular [Crown Jewel]. Just feeling the [Jewel] filled Melia with a sense of pride and contentment, but a wave of irritation quickly squashed that feeling.

“I’ve been told you’re awake,” Moeldywn said without preamble. Melia hastily closed her eyes in an attempt to appear asleep. “Don’t pretend with me, you lazy beast,” Moeldywn said with exasperation, kicking Melia on the chin. “I can tell when you’re playing around.”

“Really?” Melia asked despite her desire to hide away and prolong the inevitable scolding. Her curiosity always got the better of her. Her eye opened again, and she saw a tiny princess staring at her, full of sass, hands on her hips, and leaning forward aggressively.

“Yes,” Moeldywn said confidently. “If you’re actually asleep, you’re either drooling or doing that thing dogs do when they’re chasing food in their sleep. You didn’t have enough leg-twitch.”

That was…definitely something Melia was going to pretend she didn’t hear.

“I can only hope you caught all your dream meals,” Moeldywn sighed tiredly. “So that you never need to devour the world.”

“Oooh,” Melia grinned. “Maybe? I may have eaten part of a god. As it turns out, they taste divine. But Melody…are you not mad at me?”

“Ho ho ho,” Moeldywn laughed, covering her mouth arrogantly with the back of her hand. “I am absolutely furious with you. And no, before you say anything and try to bribe me with wonderful gifts, no amount of [Melii Bears] will quell my wrath.”

Melia wanted to test that theory. It might be her only way out of a monumental scolding.

Before Moeldywn could react, Melia brought out the first [Bear]. It was a chocolate-looking thing with vanilla-frosted paw-beans and ear tips. The buttons and eyes were made of rubies to resemble those crunchy cookies with jam dollops. Sadly, the bear wouldn’t taste as good as it looked.

Moeldywn was…not not impressed, Melia could tell. Her impressive scowl twitched momentarily as she adjusted her arms over her chest, refusing to retrieve the gift.

Melia knew she’d need at least 3 bears to pacify her princess. After all, didn’t Celestara say she was asleep for 3 days? It was simple math.

Melia brought out the second [Bear]. Melia liked to think of this one as the “hippy bear”. It featured a tie-dye shirt (not to be confused with the [Melii Bear] that was actually tie-dyed), a flower headband, and round glasses with rose-tinted lenses.

Melia could sense Moeldywn’s resolve faltering, but she held firm.

For the third [Bear], Melia brought out an absolute banger of a classic. This one was the [Scout]. Not the class tied to [Rogues] good for creeping around corners in dungeons and preventing party wipes due to ambushes, but the long and storied Girl Scouts with their famous cookies. This was a golden-brown bear the color of a perfectly baked cookie, featuring a green vest and a sash. Of course, the sash had (not-so-) miniature badges sewn onto it proudly proclaiming the bear’s triumphs. If the sash was to be believed, this [Melii Bear] was an accomplished [Artist], [Athlete], [Cook], [First Aid] provider, and [Naturalist].

Moeldywn stared at the third bear in disbelief. Melia distinctly heard her mutter something about “this silly bear having more classes than the average citizen.”

But she still held strong! After an agonizing minute, her frown returned and she stared at Melia with the overwhelming patronization of a disappointed parent.

“Are we really doing this?” Moeldywn asked, exasperated.

“Name your price,” Melia countered. “I can do this all day.”

Moeldywn held the giant eye in her relentless gaze for several more painful seconds before eventually easing up.

“Meliastraza, even you must realize that not every wound may be healed with a gift.”

“I know,” Melia sighed sadly. “I know I put you and Brandy in a tough spot, and I’m sorry. But you have to understand where I’m coming from. Brandy’s quest was never going away. It didn’t matter what she did or how she did it; no matter how many Demon Kings she ended up killing. At the end of the day, the Quest would only be complete when the Dark Lord was slain…and, due to a lucky twist of fate, that turned out to be me.”

“Luck?” Moeldywn scoffed. “Do you find the gods considering you the epitome of evil to be especially lucky?”

“No,” Melia shook her head. “But I did what I had to do. Celestara needed to be freed from her prison, Brandy needed to be released from the shackles of her quest, and you needed to be free from decades of guaranteed war. I found that it was worth the cost. I’d rather sacrifice myself for the good of my friends than watch them slowly agonize in misery.”

Moeldywn looked like she sucked down the world’s sourest lemon, but eventually she nodded. When she next spoke, it was in a low, vulnerable voice.

“Do you have any idea of the trauma you inflicted upon us? From my own experience, I relived a particularly nasty hell I pray to the gods I never need to think about again. I’ve watched my family die once; I did not need to witness it a second time. And even that grief pales in comparison to what I witnessed from the [Saint]. Meliastraza, did you know? Did you know how far Eluna would go to keep you alive? What she’d put her body through for the sake of healing you? I can’t remember the last time I was mana-drained, and we exhausted both our pools. She also invented a series of very creative swear words. Do not make the gods smite a [Saint] for irreverence; don’t ever do that again.”

Melia let Moeldywn’s words sink in, taking the proper time to digest and internalize them. But seeing her princess sigh in relief after she finished the rant filled Melia with hope.

“Don’t worry,” Melia tried to sound reassuring. “I won’t have to–”

“Why do I feel more nervous after hearing that?” Moeldywn sighed.

“–because I ate the god responsible for putting us in this mess. He’s not likely to repeat the mistake.”

Moeldywn stared at Melia in disbelief before slowly lowering her head into her hands.

“You ate a god,” Moeldywn groaned. “Because of course you did. Since you said he was responsible, I assume you encountered Letharion? How does one even eat the god of war? Fighting is literally his domain. You shouldn’t be able to win in a fight.”

“It turns out…my domain beats his,” Melia said with a frown. Moeldywn processed those words and turned a shade paler.

“You had to exercise your right as divine executioner?”

Melia tilted her head. She wouldn’t classify herself exactly like that…but it wasn’t wrong.

“Yes,” Melia nodded, sending up a cloud of dust as her chin impacted the ground. “Letharion’s schemes grew too conceited. He risked more than he had any right to wager. He wanted to continue summoning souls from the Visitors’ realm to endlessly supply his conflicts between the nations. While I don’t approve of manufacturing war, I understand that war is his domain. The god of war has sovereignty over wars in this world. His rule does not stretch to other worlds. I could not allow his ambition to grow any further, and I made him sever his pact.”

Moeldywn looked shaken, so Melia gave her another [Bear]. This one was a plain tan bear with a bow tie, but it was made with experimental materials. As such, it was closer to a really big bean bag than a stuffed animal, and it sat in a squashed lump as it settled in on itself. Moeldywn laughed and stored all the [Bears].

“But why?” Moeldywn muttered. “Why would the god of war risk exposing our world to the wrath of a different realm? Was that not how the Old Ones were summoned? And did the gods not beseech Heroes to force them back across the veil? Surely the gods would know better.”

Melia shook her head and sighed.

“From my understanding, the gods are all clamoring for Balance’s Favor in a bid for divine power plays and politics. It sounds…rather tedious and boring, if I’m honest, and I won’t pretend I understand what’s going on.

“But I do know this: Balance enjoys the unpredictability and randomness Visitors bring. Chaos and Order both want to try establishing a connection to the other realm to prevent things like Brandy’s quest happening again, though I can’t promise there won’t be different trials or tribulations.”

Moeldywn did not look reassured.

“So…you’re telling me…the Visitors are coming back? The gods will allow them to return?”

Moeldywn was one of the few humans alive who remembered the times from the game, or whatever this world’s version of it had turned into history. Melia could see old trauma resurfacing in the shadows of her eyes, yet at the same time, the thrill of adventure had returned. Princess Moeldywn could not resist a good tale, and she always had a soft spot for adventurers. Hence her function as the game’s lore-viewing mechanic in the form of travelers’ tales and bedtime stories.

“Yes,” Melia agreed. “But don’t worry; you’ll have time to prepare. It won’t happen overnight, and I’d be very surprised if we see any movement in the next couple of weeks. Chaos and Order want to make sure everything is perfect before we open the world to more Visitors, and Order specifically asked me to assist with his checks.”

“Please don’t destroy any more of the world,” Moeldywn blurted out before she could stop herself. “I mean, not that you have, but really, what were they thinking? Sending a dragon to do a fine, detailed job is just…they’d have a better time tapping a pin into a delicate sheet of paper with a sledgehammer.”

“Hey, I’m not that bad,” Melia pouted. Moedlywn merely shrugged.

“I apologize," she said, not sounding very sorry. “But how can you help with any checks? From a power perspective, you’re simply on another level. You can’t compare a Visitor, not even a legend like the [Saint] or any of the Heroes, to the likes of the [Destroyer]. What will you even do?”

“A lot of busywork, by the sound of it,” Melia said. “Though fortunately, some are things I already planned to do. Chaos, for example, wants some dungeons run. There’s a whole slew of dungeons that people don’t run anymore, and she wants to know why. Are they boring? Too challenging? Has the level discrepancy between the common adventurer these days and her monsters grown too great? It’s no secret that people today on average are much lower level than the Visitors of a hundred years ago.”

“Hmm,” Moeldywn said, intrigued. “You raise a good point. But my point still stands. You running through a dungeon, no matter how much you handicap yourself, will never be a good measuring stick for mortals.”

“Ah, but when we run dungeons, I’ll synchronize my level.”

“You can do that?” Moeldywn asked. She frowned and tilted her head in thought. “This is something I should know, isn’t it? But I admit, I’ve never entered a dungeon before. I’ve never had the opportunity to see the effects myself, nor any extras they add to my Status screen….”

“You should totally join us!” Melia cheered, going so far as to lift her head off the ground, though doing so reminded her that her body felt weak and tired, like she needed another long nap.

“Don’t tempt me, Meliastraza,” Moeldywn said in a strained, longing voice. She closed her eyes and grimaced, like she could envision the forbidden adventures she might have that she wasn’t allowed as a queen.

“Wellll,” Melia said impishly, “I make no promises. I’m sure we could sneak you out for a day trip to a local dungeon. It’ll be fine!”

“Nothing you’ve said in that voice has ever been fine, dragon,” Moeldywn accused. “Now, are you done loafing around like a fat lump? You’re blocking these poor demons’ courtyard, and I’m sure they’re wanting to clean it.”

“Eh?”

For the first time since waking up, Melia took the time to look around. Sure enough, as Moeldywn said, a whole crew of demons sulked in the shadows, casting them worried glances as they tried their best to go about their days. It suddenly occurred to Melia that, yes, she had been lying there for 3 days…in her dragon form, no less. And, thanks to a cursory glance from her weird senses that let her check in on things without actually seeing them, she could tell that somebody had been keeping her clean and presentable.

…Had her [Retainers] washed her while she was asleep? She was very grateful to them, since a good scrub-down of the scales was infinitely better than a soak in her gnome form, which she dearly loved. But it made her slightly embarrassed to envision her 3 huge maids toting around buckets and barrels, using mops and scrubbers on her like an industrial-sized truck wash.

And, of course, her [Retainers] would think nothing of it; in fact, they’d consider it a joy of a duty. But they also wouldn’t spare a single thought for what the palace inhabitants might think of them invading their home. The [Retainers] probably considered this courtyard part of Melia’s property now.

Thankfully for them (and to avoid any potential conflict of interest over international property disputes), Melia didn’t claim it as hers. She finally mustered the effort to stretch her long neck, yawning widely in the process and letting her wings flap open as far as the courtyard would allow.

That was how she also noticed the half-eaten body of the previous Demon King, Ol’ Darius Whatsisface, contender for the shortest reign in demonic history. There might have been others shorter; in fact, Melia would bet on it. Demons were a bloodthirsty people, after all.

“Did they…not clean that up?” Melia asked, returning to her dragon-kin form. Her laziness didn’t allow for a full gnomish transformation, since apparently this was her preferred sleeping form when she needed to be compact.

“It hasn’t been a month yet,” Moeldywn said with a wry smile. Melia tilted her head, so Moedlywn explained. “You know how Demon Kings work, yes? I believe you once told me. Demonic royalty has nothing to do with lineage; they only care about strength. The strongest demon is, by definition, the rightful heir to the throne. Any demon who considers themselves the strongest can challenge the current King and prove their worth. But perhaps you are unfamiliar with some of their lesser-known customs? Such as the fact that the body of the deposed king, or usually his head, will be displayed for a month as a sign of conquest? Since there was no obvious usurper to claim the throne, and you were, ah, indisposed, they left the body where it was. I’m sure if you give the word, they can give whatever final rites the demons have.”

“Yeah,” Melia grimaced, “He should probably be buried.”

Melia was thinking about sanitation and the many diseases originating from a corpse, but that was the furthest thing from Moeldywn’s mind.

“You are merciful,” she said, nodding in agreement. “A burial is more than he likely deserved. But!” She said, raising her voice. She clapped her hands loudly and several demons lurking in the shadows snapped to attention. “You heard her! Remove the body of the fallen!”

Several demons instantly obeyed, and within a few moments, the corpse was dragged away. Melia watched it all happen with a very conflicted expression. Eventually she turned to Moeldywn and gave her a look.

“...you seem very comfortable ordering demons around.”

“We had a few tussles,” Moeldywn said nonchalantly, tossing her hair back. “I have been visiting you for days, don’t you know? My power is recognized.”

“...what a bizarre way to rule a people,” Melia muttered.

“Tell me about it,” Moeldywn sighed. “There’s a contest being held currently to decide the next King. Since the current King wasn’t slain by a demon looking to take the throne and neither you nor I are demons, and thus ineligible to rule, a tournament is underway. I insisted it take place far away from here to ensure your peaceful rest. Gods know you may have rolled over in your sleep and eaten one of them, and then they’d have to start over.”

“You know, you were doing great until that last part,” Melia pouted.

“Deal with it,” Moeldywn said, back to her typical “I don’t get paid enough for this” tone. “You caused this mess by eating the last King; who’s to say you wouldn’t do the same to the next?”

“You know I like food, but I also like good food.”

“Well, how about you make me some of that ‘good food’?” Moeldywn proposed with a smirk. “I’ll be the judge of quality. [Grandmaster Chef] or no, I have standards. And I suppose you should make enough for [Sunrise] as well, since they’re getting anxious. Come along, Meliastraza; we have work to do.”