“We tend to think of the matrix as the most basic composition of spells we craft and the runes we etch. Convenient and replicable I say. However, we have barely scratched the surface. Have you ever seen what a tier 5 spell matrix looks like? No? You assume it has 5 values right? Perhaps. We all agree that the fourth value of a tier 4 spell is autonomy, however, the search for the fifth yet persists. What if I told you, the fifth value is a multiplier? That is what we would expect from spells that get stronger with tiers right? And that, ladies and gents, brings us to the new frontier of spell-craft…fractals.” Wysterl Weisermann, Xzerion Institute and Academy for Magecraft, The Independent Magocracy of Galdur.

The old man waiting in the foyer smelt of wet leather, mustiness and some sort of smoke. His high cheekbones and hawkish nose gave him a gaunt appearance as did the wrinkles beneath his eyes. His beard was bristly but not unkempt, and his greying hair that reached the nape of his neck was not shabby either; he also wore a brown beret. Arthur did not begrudge him for trailing water onto his carpet; the enchantments there would take care of that.

“Ah, Mister Crenshaw I presume,” Arthur went in with a handshake and a one-thousand-watt smile; first impressions and all that. Besides, the man was his senior. Mister Crenshaw saw the younger man coming and responded with a wry grin and a handshake of his own.

However—his sinewy grip was way too strong for a casual handshake; his grin turned into a scowl. Arthur pulled back in alarm thinking the man would do him ill but he held fast and pulled him into a headlock under his armpit.

“Hey! What’s the big idea?!”

“Master Sturmdrache huh? You and I will have some words about parenting,” The elder dragged him out through the front door as Nora watched on. He had the strength of a hunter dragging along his quarry after a successful takedown.

“What’s this about parenting huh? —” Arthur said, voice muffled by wheezes; the old man's dust coat smelt of tanning fluids that made nose crinkle in irritation as his eyes started to water. “I’m not sure you notice but I do not have children…” he added as they exited the mansion.

“Ho! Trying to skimp on your duties as a father ain’tcha? What kind of deadbeat father lets their kid run in the rain? And from the town guard no less?!” Crenshaw crowed.

“Wait what?!”

“There she is—,” the senior pointed to a girl whose face was covered by the hood of her poncho. She pulled it back and blue eyes the color of the clear sky stared back at Arthur. The young man’s eyes went wide as saucers and his retort died in his throat. “Well?— don’t you have anything to say to your daughter?”

“And why in Vesper’s darkest pits are you so selfish that you didn’t even give your little one a name huh?” he throttled Arthur as his anger boiled over.

“Wait wait… you don’t understand,” Arthur choked. “I can explain.”

“Heeh?! Not trying to own up are you?” the old man rebuked. He made it as if to grab at Arthur’s belt and throw him as he would a stray—.

“Stop! Leave Papa alone,”the child cried out, distressed. That was not [Host-Mind]’s doing. Nonetheless it did not mean that the entity was idle; on the contrary it was running computations on the number of scenarios that would happen in that encounter.

After what had happened prior, it had to set new conditions. The human variable could not be expunged from the equation and it too had forgotten, was part human, or used to be.

“Ah—sorry little one.” The shoemaker schooled his voice as he addressed the girl. “Even though your father is an alley rascal you still have love for him don’t you? What a heart of gold.”

The girl’s eyes darted from the old man to Arthur who was turning red in the face with anger.

“Right then. I might have overdone it.” Crenshaw released the younger man. “Away with you then,” he shoved Arthur towards the child. As he turned away to go into the rain, he warned, “Next time I’ll make you eat your own shoes boy! Don’t ever let me catch you absconding.”

Arthur opened and closed his mouth like a fish as he looked from the nameless girl to the old man. But the shoemaker had already left the shelter of the porch and gone into the rain. He watched the man’s back get smaller and smaller; he hadn’t even managed to get a word in.

“Well, hello again?” Arthur smiled wryly. He looked pretty embarrassed about the ordeal and thought that dragging out their interaction would get awkward. Truly, what did you say to a child you’d left at the equivalent of a shelter? Then there was the question of the old man, who was he? He had been stronger than he looked despite his age. Maybe he was a veteran adventurer who retired to pursue what he loved?

‘What were the guards thinking of leaving her unsupervised?’ Arthur thought. He waited until the creak of the gate announced that the shoemaker was out of earshot, then his face turned grim.

“So you can talk huh?” Arthur regarded the child, the girl who was barely reached below his chest. She nodded in an affirmative. “Why did you run away?”

‘No wait, aren't I forgetting that she happened to be around the same place my things went missing?’

“ No—, don't answer that.” Arthur threw up his hands. “ Who…or what are you and what do you want?” Arthur said as he approached the girl. She barely shied away from him.

His voice was low enough that if someone came from behind him, they wouldn't hear what he was saying. The door behind him had also fortunately shut close, and above the din of the party inside, Arthur was sure no one would hear them.

But the girl looked past him to the door leading into the mansion; the wingside gardens and their flora bowing under the cloudburst and regarded the man. Then she tilted her head like a small animal

“Home,” she murmured. “ What am I? What do I want? I don't know” she added, scrunching her face in visible confusion. Arthur almost missed a step. The intelligence behind the child’s eyes was unmistakable. Those were not the eyes of a six year old even, they were of something more primal.

In a turn of events, [Host-Mind] had taken over. The only explanation why that was, was because it had gotten close to the source of the tether. Two storeys below the ground, the tellusphere was active inside of its container; the two men in the lab were too busy to notice.

Nonetheless, something else drew Arthur and the child’s attention. There was activity at the gate. The old man was shouting at the top of his voice at the guards who’d come calling. Arthur quirked a brow at the commotion.

Initially the town guardsmen had tried best to feign being passersby. They were terrible at it. Arthur knew that this part of the town rarely had that much foot traffic. And in this weather? Where would people be going in the downpour? Arthur frowned; that was a problem.

The child must have intuited the same because when she turned to regard him, she looked pointedly at the door to the mansion. Arthur started, following her gaze..

“ No no, I am not taking you in until I know what you are” he kept his distance. Man and child regarded one another, silence stretching by the casions. The girl didn't even blink.

‘Feck it, this feels like remonstrating a neighbour's child. But this is no child isn't she. She is way too intelligent, I can see she’s more than she lets on.’

“ Who are you really?” he whispered, lacing his tone with a warning that if she didn't answer. Well, Arthur’s severe expression was all she needed to know. And yet, she did not shy away from his gaze. Silence.

“ You’re not a normal child are you; scratch that, are you even a child?” he smiled; the smile did not reach his eyes.

As he took cautious steps towards the girl. His six foot two should have intimidated her, when she was barely five. No, actually she was closer to four seven. Even more silence. Her stares were getting into several levels of creepy.

“ Did the dwarves send you?” ‘Some kind of golem who apes little girls and kidnaps enchanters who’ve been blacklisted perhaps? Arthur looked around the front yard. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, leaving the after scent of wet soil.

Downspouts conveyed the rest of the runoff as it flowed into the stone gutters. Some of it was going to replenish the fountain’s underground tank and the rest of it ran off into the sewers.

It was too quiet, discounting the rain petering out of course. Arthur expected the dwarves to start rappelling from the building in whatever passed for their special troops.

‘Spellcrafted Weapons and Armored Troops perhaps?’ Arthur chuckled to himself. He still remained cautious, ready to draw his dagger from inventory. But the dwarves didn't come. Arthur remained a ball of nerves, half expecting them to strike when he thought it was a fluke.

Behind those two cerulean irises [Host-Mind] was sizing him up as well. Unfortunately, [Host-Mind] did not know how to act like an actual girl, so their expression came off as stiff.

The entity looked at the man. It analyzed his posture, the minute twitches of his eyes, the microexpressions on his face and the overall countenance. It’s conclusion, the man was averse to harming [Spirit-Body].

Nonetheless, they were conflicted about what to do with them. There was distrust in his eyes. [Spirit-Body]wasn't doing anything and if they did not respond in the next 5 or so casions, [Host-Mind] extrapolated unfavorable outcomes.

Thus [Host-Mind] scoured its memory matrices for tidbits of information which would have maximum impact for the minimum of deliveries. In its analysis it came upon one thing that was guaranteed to unsettle the man.

The first thing [Host-Mind] would do was use blackmail. [Host-Mind] was not beneath using such underhanded means if it meant the collective's self-preservation was secured.

Blackmail had a proven record of success and that was based on [Host-Mind]'s analysis of human to human relations between members of the Guard. It involved using implied threats.

”8 Gigabytes of RAM, 265GB of Msce type internal storage, Kirin 1070m chipset, Kernel ver—”

The girl blurted out with a straight face. The man's eyes went wide. If [Host-Mind] had a face, they would've been sporting a shit-eating grin right about then. Yet that was not what had surprised him most of all.

What had, was the language she’d been using. Whether by fate or otherwise, Arthur had happened to watch the movements of the child’s mouth when she’d started speaking.

The man had been trying to reconcile the image of the child he had in his head and the little girl in front of him. Even as she spouted the details of what could possibly come from the about phone tab of the settings app.

“—sion—” the rest of the words were never heard. Arthur had already moved to muffle the girl’s speech using his hands.

“ Arthur!”Arthur whirled; he’d barely heard the door open. His stomach suddenly dropped from beneath him before he realized it was just Nora peeking out.

However, how would he explain the situation in which he’d been caught with his hands over the girl’s mouth? Nonetheless, thanks to [Eye of the Storm] he was of the presence of mind to arrest the conversation before it headed that way.

“ Ah, hello Miss Nora, look who came back,” He said with a grin. “ We’re adopting her, isn’t she cute?” However inconsistent his strained voice was from the words he’d uttered there was a modicum of truth to his statements. It was plenty enough to misdirect the dhampir who smelt lies like someone woke up to smell the coffee.

Thankfully, his heartbeat could’ve been misconstrued to mean he was excited. As for his cold sweat, well, that was easily explained; a certain Mister Crenshaw had worn wet rain gear after all.

The facade was a resounding success because the dhampir squealed. Totally, uncalled for.

For one reason or another, Elena’s recovery party turned into an impromptu adoption announcement. There were so many holes in the story though, because there was no documentation for it. Hopefully, Arthur could get that sorted later; the Guard had implied he could take guardianship after all. It wasn't going to be that hard right?

Under the excuse that Arthur had to get his new daughter into her new clothes, the foster and child duo stole away from the party. His explicit instructions to Nora were, unless the dwarves had come knocking with an armada of aerships, then they were not to be disturbed.

Arthur was also anxious that the girl who’d suddenly gone quiet and regressed an innocent demeanor would suddenly blurt out things he didn't want aired. Fortunately, he needn’t have worried because [ Host-Mind] was still firmly in control.

In silence, the foster father- adopted daughter duo went up the first floor, for therein, lay the bedroom wing. However, their destination was the lab below, where Arthur hoped his heavily shielded lab would prevent them from being eavesdropped, magically or otherwise. They crossed with the two older gentlemen, the [Alchemist] and the dragonkin on their way up.

“Oh, Arthur? You’re back…What happened?” the alchemist enquired. Then seeing the girl, “I never knew you—”

“Not my daughter,” Arthur replied offhandedly. “If you’ll excuse me gentlemen, I seem to have an urgent matter. Perhaps we’ll catch up some other time?”

Orhill must have gotten the intended message because before Edel could get another word in, he was bodily dragged out of the study.

Arthur sighed, he would have to apologize to the alchemist; the man was too enthusiastic for his own good. It was then that the two went down to the lab below.

When it came to ice breaking , Arthur was absurdly bad at it. It wasn’t that his charisma was bad. On the contrary it was that, try as he might, he could not find a way to broach the conversation starter. The subject being how strange it was that the other person in front of him spoke english.

Thus, a par’quart passed in silence. Arthur was knuckling his temple while the child was staring around the lab. And the stare was not that of a curious child but that of a knowing individual who was scrutinizing everything with an analytical eye.

‘How am I going to approach this?’ Arthur mulled.’ Of all the things Eryth decided to throw my way—If it had been just another child appearing in the same circumstances as me, the language would’ve been a tell. But it's not, because no child memorizes and reads the kernel version of a phone OS like a kindergarten recital.’ he exhaled.

“Observation—” a girlish voice startled him from his thoughts. “ You are distressed.”

‘Oh, really?! Smart of you to point that out’ he wanted to yell.

“ And whose fault do you think it is?” Arthur retorted, voice low and strained.

Blue eyes turned to regard him. If he looked closely, he could see that the gold motes in the cerulean irises never remained static. They looked like miniature spiral galaxies swirling around.

“ Unsure; we do not know…”

“ We?” Arthur sputtered. “ How many of you are there? What are you?”

“ Unknown; however, pattern analysis suggests we are a collective entity known as Girl, otherwise designated as Child.” the child tilted their head to the side. “ Is that not correct? We have no appellation with which to call ourselves.”

The apathetic, straightforward delivery might have been the delusions of a child playing pretend, but they were too real to look choreographed.

“ A collective,” Arthur hissed through his teeth as he got up with a start. “ Are there more of you out there? What’s your motivation? Did the dwarves send you?”

“ Negative; we are a collective of two made of [Host-Mind] and [Spirit-Body,” the girl scrunched her cherub face in confusion. It looked comical with the cheeks that had yet to shed their baby fat. “ Primary motivation; survival and self-preservation of the collective entity known as girl-child. Query?”

“ Huh—”

“ Who are the dwarves?”

“ Cmon, now…do you expect me to buy that? That you somehow don’t know who the dwarves are?”

“ Affirmative” she droned in a motone. That her eyebrows were raised as if in comprehension was a stark departure from what she was intending to convey.

‘Now that I think about it, she’s a very bad actor. No, actually, she feels like two different people…but not a DID.’ Arthur shook his head; He was no psychologist. “How do I know I can trust your words? For all I know you might be a planted spy,” Arthur smiled thinly.

“ Correction,” the girl huffed as if talking was tiring her out, she lowered her eyes a little before bringing her face up again. Arthur was waiting for the latter part of the statement that would follow. He had seen a pattern to her replies, as if her responses were filtered, analyzed and then matched to what he’d said. “ There is a fatal flaw with your argument, first your suggestion we are a spy does not hold. “

“Why?”

“ Logical flaw,” she paused. “ Your insinuation that the dwarves sent me because of my stature—”

“ Ah, for a moment you almost had me there…” Arthur remarked. “ Look, this is going nowhere, just tell me one thing that’ll help me trust you. Because one thing's for sure, I cannot let you out of my sight after what you said on the porch.” Arthur threw his hands helplessly. “ Then again, it might just turn out to be a ruse and sooner or later you might just stab me in the back,”

The child seemed to go quiet for a moment. Arthur could almost hear the wheels and cogs in their mind turning. Then her face whirled around and their eyes glowed.

[ Unknown Progeny | Unknown Class Level 2]

The sudden intrusion of alien thoughts was a bombshell. His eyes went wide in astonishment as his mind whirled, picking and discarding assumptions.. The way the words were projected into his consciousness reminded him eerily of the missing dungeon shard when he’d been searching for his phone and Volemhir’s project.

However, there was no rational explanation for it. A dungeon shard did not suddenly turn into an unliving, talking, blinking and thinking girl who could project words into his consciousness. Or could it? So he asked one more question.

“ How’d did that even happen; there was barely enough mass in that shard to even form one of your li—” his train of thought came to a sudden halt as he got up with start.

They were sitting near the furthest of the island tables, in his line of sight, behind the girl were two almost empty barrels of crystals. Crystals that he’d presumed missing alongside his phone, the slates of mage stone and a telecry.

He started pacing, trying to rationalize the chaos. [Eye of the Storm] seemed to come through.

‘I was wrong to assume that the dungeon shard had been unaffected from the mana fall out, but that does not explain how, instead of a dungeon I am suddenly encountering a humanoid girl.’ He had to confirm it.

Turning to the girl he said,“ So, I should assume that some way or another, you young lady, just happened to be a fortunate accident. I should presume due to unexplainable circumstances a dungeon shard awoke from mana irradiation, ate some crystals and other components and suddenly I am saddled with a sapient girl?”

The girl, or a fascimile of a girl child turned around, unerringly and stared at the tellusphere. Then she spoke, despite her artificial voice, she sounded emotional, “ Observation;”

“ And please stop that…”

“ Apologies—”

“ You’re doing it again,” Arthur pointed out. “ Never mind, carry on.”

“ Apologies once more, it is not my wish my diction is the way it is. This pattern of speech is…peculiar—”

‘Oh, really? Then I'm an alien.’ a rueful smirk played at the corner of his lips

“We are a collective. However, as [Host-Mind], we do not command control over the emotional cognitive center, only logic and memory…” the girl almost seemed to sigh. “ [Spirit-Body], the template of this form is well versed in matters of human interaction. Despite their immature intelligence, they are the more natural of us at emulating human expressions,” she grimaced.

“ That we are an accident however, complicates matters. Tell us Arthur Sturmdrache, what do you seek to do with us?”

“ Nothing…” Arthur threw up his arms. “ It's not like I can get rid of you. Besides, you know too much.”

“ Correct Arthur Sturmdrache, or should we say…Papa?” She smiled. “ Pattern recognition implies that the male parent should always take responsibility for their accidents.”

Arthur’s eye twitched. Intending to do something was well and good, on the other hand being told to was another matter. Only it wasn’t the dirty dishes he was taking responsibility for.

‘Okay, what the hell?!