“So, why don’t you tell me what exactly you want while I eat breakfast?” Maggie asked, as she was pulling out a couple of things from different cupboards in her kitchen. The place was quite fascinating, set up with an intriguing mix of modern and middle-aged equipment. The cupboards, closets and general design were quite modern, with clean and clear straight lines and angles, nothing fancy but very utilitarian. The old stove and kettle stood out in stark contrast, just like the simple sink with the water tank hanging above it did.

  “Interesting design,” I complimented, after taking a closer look at the water reservoir and noticing the intricate Rune Magic carved into the sides. Anyone with a bit of Astral Power would be able to conjure water with the formation, making the water supply completely unproblematic. For a moment, I wondered why the tank was even necessary, why they didn’t just carve the runic formation above the sink so you could use it as if opening a tap, but there likely was a reason. Maybe to make it so children, or people with minuscule amounts of Astral Power, could get water, too.

  “Thanks,” Maggie replied, “We made that one standard, one of your pupils came up with it. Not everyone can just wave their hand and create water, let alone a mug to go with it,” she added, waving the mug I had conjured earlier a little. It was a combination of Earth and Crystal Magic, making it look remarkably like a glass mug, though there were some differences. But I doubted anyone would notice those without having a similarly shaped glass to compare the mug to.

  “I’m just awesome that way,” I bragged, a grin on my face, “Though I would think you would appreciate the subtle regeneration and healing spell I imbued into the water more than the water itself.”

  “And so humble,” Maggy snarked back, “Though, given that I’ve heard you’re able to bless people, maybe you have a justification for your…” she paused for a moment, searching for the right word, “for your confidence,” she finished, apparently unwilling to truly insult me.

  “Maybe,” I shrugged, not quite comfortable with the subtle change in her demeanour. My potential divinity and the entire process of apotheosis were a bit of an uncomfortable topic, as I had no idea how I would change as a result. Just earlier, the sensation of discomfort at the idea of terminating a pregnancy, or rather, preventing conception, was weird. I didn’t think I would feel like that. I couldn’t explain where it came from, other than the explanation that it clashed with the divine domain of the Mother. Or something like that, I would have to meditate and try to understand my own mind later. And that might be the crux of my discomfort, something I perceived as external was influencing my mind.

  “Anyway, you remember what I told you about the Blessed City?” I asked, effectively changing the topic. Maggie frowned for a moment before nodding as her mouth was full of breakfast.

  “By that, I meant the wards and the Mind Control they were accompanied by,” I clarified, just to make sure we were on the same page, “Thing is, what do you think happens if a group living under wards dedicated to a deity and primarily powering those wards decides to celebrate Christmas?”

  “I have no idea,” she admitted, though I could see a few theories form in her mind, “What happened? I doubt it’s good, given that you are here.”

  “It could be worse, I guess,” I shrugged, “The wards caused some backlash, or maybe the people themselves got incredibly drunk and overdid it by orders of magnitude. I got a glimpse last night, and it looked like their celebration turned into a massive party with some elements of an orgy thrown in. The only problem is that, drunk or otherwise intoxicated, people aren’t that safe. And the Blessed City didn’t have a Fire Department, so when some idiot started a bonfire, bad things happened. Or something like that, I only saw some of the aftermath, and it wasn’t pretty,” I shuddered, remembering far too many naked people. “Kinda similar to your situation earlier, just without the house, bed and bedding.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “Sounds cold,” Maggie replied, though I could see that her snark wasn’t fully engaged, as her face looked a little pale. “Facts here, how bad is it?”

  “Uncertain,” I admitted, “The issue isn’t just that their houses are burned, and likely some of their supplies, too. How would you feel if you woke up tomorrow and realised that you had been party to the torture and public execution of people for the horrible crime that is the creation of a public disturbance? Or whatever you want to call a public brawl?”

  “Fuck,” the profanity was Maggie’s immediate verbal response, though the slightly green tinge on her face was quite indicative of her thoughts.

  “If you had stood in the crowd, watching as people you likely knew were roasted alive while a stupid pony was preaching about the grace and power of the deity you prayed to every morning and evening?” I prodded, only realising a little too late that the image was making Maggie severely nauseous. Maybe because she was eating some roasted meat at that very moment, though I couldn’t be certain.

  Unwilling to let her waste food, I reached out, pushing a bit of Blood Magic into her system to help settle her stomach, while my Mind Magic was soothing her thoughts, blunting the horror she felt.

  “Apologies,” I added a moment later, “It wasn’t my intention to cause you this much distress; I just wanted to drive the situation’s severity home.”

  “It’s okay,” she assured me, after a few attempts at talking failed. But she didn’t lose her meal, though she did push the food away, looking as if she had very much lost her appetite.

  “What is it that you want? You didn’t just come here to tell me this,” she asked, the implication that she knew me better than to think I was merely here to gossip hanging thickly in the air.

  “Due to some issues between Lorgar, Sunna and me, I would like you to act as a go-between. To help the people who have just lost their homes in the middle of winter. They need some assistance to get back to their feet, but I’m not sure mine wouldn’t cause additional troubles,” I explained, unwilling to go into too much detail regarding the conflict between Sunna and me. It was another of those topics that would reveal a little too much detail regarding things I wanted to keep under wraps, so a bit of misdirection would have to suffice.

  “What happened to Lorgar anyway? He didn’t seem to be the type to appreciate a party. Bit dour and severe, you know, the kind of guy who could drain the fun from anything,” Maggie asked, avoiding a direct answer to my question.

  “I believe the anchors were partially anchored by him. Maybe him and his friends, maybe an alter, too, I’m uncertain. But whatever the case may be, when I got my eyes on him in the night, he looked rough,” I shrugged, not adding any additional information in an attempt to tempt her into continuing the original topic.

  “This isn’t something I can decide on my own,” she admits, after a moment of hesitation. “I’ll have to talk with the others, see if I can find volunteers. And it would be a lot easier to find those if you could give me some assurances that you are willing to assist. Not just give me some pretty ideas, but give me your word that you’ll help with your magic. We’ll need additional housing, and probably food as well. Even if I were willing, I doubt anyone else would just jump in with both feet, not when it means some of us will starve before spring rolls around.”

  For a moment, I just looked at her, weighing my options. Promising my help, at least with my magic, would be easy. The question is, how long would I need to assist before I could consider my promise fulfilled? And regarding food, that was a little troublesome, as that was Luna’s domain, not something I could make promises about.

  “As long as we can agree on reasonable boundaries, I would be willing to promise my magical assistance. Raising a few houses is easy, and I will talk with my daughter about helping you grow some food, but that’s not something I can give assurances about,” I cautiously offered, getting a chuckle in return.

  “So, we are both in the same boat. You talk to your family, I’ll talk to my people. Maybe you could also find out just how bad things are, and return later today? Not sure how long you need to travel, but if things at the Ruined City are as severe as you implied, waiting would be.. bad,” she suggested, and now it was my turn to nod. It sounded like a good compromise.