! Quest completed: Marriage

  He looked at the message in green without really seeing it.

  Benjera stood over the cooking pot in his drawers, completely zoned out. His body hadn't felt so relaxed in tesera. Warmth still lingered under his skin, a pleasant heaviness in his limbs. A little sweat cooled on his neck but he wasn't tired, just satisfied in a way that made the world feel softer around the edges.

  Steam rose from the pot in lazy curls, carrying the smell of root vegetables and herbs. Hardy stuff that stored well. He'd planned on being gone for a gleam and a half on the slayer quest. All his perishables were left with Jasreal and Rasha before heading out. The soup bubbled quietly, a comforting rhythm as he stirred.

  His passive [Resonance] made him aware of Noa still laying in bed. Naked. The sense of her came pressed into his head and distant at once, like seeing her from far away and feeling her weight in the next room simultaneously. He could even feel the shape of her smile.

  He looked down at the bubbling pot, trying to focus.

  He learned the hard way a long time ago that if he just focused on other things, he wouldn't freak Lost out with how he seemed to know what they were doing in the other room. Most Lost didn’t have sensory skills to start with. The information would filter differently if he stopped thinking about her.

  How was he supposed to do that?

  Light filtered through the skylight above, painting the sparse apartment in warm tones. The stone floor was cool under his bare feet. He ladled soup into a bowl, testing the temperature with the back of his hand near the steam.

  When he finished, he smiled before she even walked into the room.

  He turned to her, ladle still in hand. "That is my favorite shirt."

  She stood in the doorway, his shirt less falling over her body and seemed ready to burst around her chest and hips. The fabric ended half covering those supple thighs. It was a crime. He ought to arrest her.

  "It was the easiest to wiggle into with t-rex arms, you’re too skinny," she said with a smirk and a wiggle of her fingers. He ignored the blatant insult, her hands were a lot less red after sleeping. That was a surprise. Though, if she had that kind of mana pool, perhaps her mana regeneration was also absurd. Maybe she’d recover before Cycle Break. That gave him a thrill.

  "I don't know that word, t-rex," Benjera said. He looked pointedly at her chest. "You're going to stretch it out."

  "Maybe I will," she said haughtily and came to sit in the chair.

  Her hair was still messy, catching light in the tangles. Her eyes had a satisfied glitter to them that made his chest feel tight. He wanted the moment to last forever.

  "While you're stretching out my shirt," he said, setting the ladle down. "I have to go to the temple."

  Noa's brows came together with concern. "Oh. You're religious."

  It wasn't a question. Neither of them wanted him to go. He could feel that in the air between them, heavy and unspoken. But she also didn’t like what she was learning.

  "Noa,” he said seriously, drawing her name out. She smiled shyly in reply and warmth spread through him. "Everyone is religious."

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  "I'm not," she said defiantly.

  This was the conversation he didn't want to have. Maybe it was odd to her that religion wasn't optional. The Lost came from so many worlds, he never knew what to expect.

  "That doesn't matter. When you came to the maze, a god picked you," Benjera said. "I was born here. I'm a Lazilite like my father. Jasreal is, too."

  She made a face at Jay's name. That was bad. Jasreal was the one who needed to explain this stuff, and she already didn't like him. He added that to the list of complications in his life.

  "What am I?" she asked. That was a loaded question.

  He pulled up his Divine Integration System. Green concentric circles bloomed into view in front of him, familiar and comfortable. She gasped, seeing his DIS screen appear.

  "We finished our marital quest," Benjera said, nodding toward the bedroom. "We can see each other's DIS now."

  Noa's DIS appeared beside his and he scowled. Hers was square in shape. And yellow. He knew they weren't all the same, but squares?

  "Under faction," Benjera told her, his heart picking up as he grabbed a spoon and stirred the contents of the bowl to give his hands something to do. How was he supposed to talk about this?

  "Ch—" she began to read the name out loud. Chrosn.

  "Listen carefully," Benjera interrupted her. He put the ladel down again and looked at her confused expression as he cupped her beautiful face in his hands. "There are only two factions. You either get picked by Lazil or Gasus.”

  Noa searched his expression. He saw that sharp mine piecing things together. “How many gods are there?”

  “Three,” Benjera said. “But the death god doesn’t pick people.”

  Noa’s eyes widened with alarm.

  “And this isn't a conversation we can have here,” Benjera decided.

  She made an exasperated sound, "What?"

  Noa looked around the empty apartment, at the bare walls and floors. He never realized just how empty it was until she was there, looking at all the nothing. He let go of her, he needed to explain something.

  "I can run fast," Benjera said, and he was frustrated because it sounded stupid even as he said it. "It's my skill. Some skills let you see far distances. Some let you listen. It all depends on the psychic field and how you combine it."

  Noa blanched. "Benjera, we just had sex! People were listening?"

  "Babe, that doesn't matter. Jasreal's skill? He can hear a fart a block away. Most people aren't trying to listen but I just walked into the city with a silver bride." The term sat heavy on his tongue. She would find out how much of a pariah he was, he thought the silver was beautiful. He liked magic. Most didn’t. But Jasreal had been wrong to assume that was what all Benjera saw in Noa. "There is somewhere we can go to talk. This, I am not risking people hearing."

  Noa bit her lip. "I can respect that you're serious about this religious stuff."

  Benjera put a hand to his head. He wasn’t sure if she was misunderstanding or smart enough to keep her mouth shut. "Same with how much mana you have and your class."

  "And my magic?" Noa asked carefully.

  "Half the Lost have water magic, Noa," he said, and tested a drop against the back of his hand. It was cool enough. "You should eat."

  "Oh," she said, looking down at her burned hands. He found it cute because she was about to learn he was going to feed her. "I don't have water magic."

  Benjera hesitated. He put the bowl on the counter, wood meeting stone with a soft thud.

  If she didn't have water magic, how did she get him out of the void well?

  "Wind," he said. Guessing. Hoping.

  Noa shook her head, looking up at him nervously.

  "Show me," Benjera said, leaning over to look. She hesitantly navigated to a screen with two spells on it. The first one was hers, the second he guessed was a class magic.

  Lostwalk: move [1][stone] per [3] mana per target

  Fold: requirement [Chrosn Nexus] create fold for [10,000] mana

  The words settled into his understanding slowly, each one adding weight.

  "Don't tell anyone about your magic either," he said quietly.

  She had the mana of a construct. And the magic of a construct. And an error when he'd asked her to marry him. And the monsters had followed after her. And her god was the god of death.

  And Benjera was shaken.

  Not because of any of those facts were stacking one on top of another like bricks building a wall between them.

  But because he knew he should be afraid of her. Maybe even obligated to kill her as a member of the Watch. His training said so. The law said so!

  Benjera was shaken because all he could think about was how to protect her. His mind was already racing through how to explain things away.

  Because death champion, human or construct, he was keeping his wife.