"I know what you're trying to do," Cyrus said.

"What is that?" The lady of the night asked innocently.

"You're hoping," he said. "That if I accept the offer, I become inclined to come here and visit again, thus generating more income for the restaurant. It's a rather cheap tactic. It can easily backfire as well. I already said I'm not interested. What if I were the type of person who'd become furious because of you pushing after that? What would happen if I complained to your manager about that?"

He saw the hesitation in her eyes. It was clear to him that she had considered that possibility and assumed she could handle whatever her boss did in response to it.

"Anyone who comes here," she responded. "Is assumed to be willing, even if they say they aren't. That is why we employees are encouraged to push a little. We have a limit to the number of no's we're supposed to take before accepting it because of that. You only need to reject me one more time to hit that limit. Once you do, I'll move on to my next target."

Cyrus opened his mouth to reject her again, then hesitated. She was right, and he knew that. He lacked a care for any actual relationship because he had to constantly deal with his brothers' antics and hobbies. If she knew what they had done just the week before, she would understand even more why he avoided connections.

Because of that, he knew that he would be unlikely to ever have a meaningful relationship ever again. Especially since his brothers would just steal his lover, just like they had the first and only one, back in high school. They dated for six months, then Cyrus introduced them to his brothers. He was single ten minutes later.

"I have no experience with sex," Cyrus told her. "Unfortunately, I wouldn't be able to meet your satisfaction as a result, even if I did accept. You're no doubt someone who's dealt with regulars quite often, especially considering that you are quite beautiful."

He could see in her eyes and expression that she was trying to determine if that was a rejection or not.

"Actually," she said. "I prefer the guys with no experience over the guys with some. They might be amateurs in bed, but not being expertly treated has its perks. I rarely sleep with a guy who's slept with someone more than twice."

"So your experience is with people who finish fast," he snorted. "I doubt they have much stamina, either. It's unlikely I'll ever be here again, which means you'd be using up your free night on someone who likely won't bring another Note to this place ever again. I only came to town to buy these dics, and only came here because it's where he wanted to meet up. I guess he was planning on getting with someone, since he quickly moved to hooking up after he left us."

"Well," she said. "If you're not going to be here ever again, then there's no connection, no commitment. Right?"

"Are you sure you can handle a god?" He asked.

"I'm sure I can handle you," she smiled.

Cyrus decided to give in to his sexual desires. He doubted the restaurant would employ someone with something, but even if they did, he was immune. A perk of being him.

"Lead the way, then."

He followed her upstairs and past several doors with screens beside them, each bordered with red light. When they reached a room with a green border around the screen, the lady swiped a card along its side, then tapped in a few things.

"There we go," she said as the light turned orange. "Go ahead and enter. I've already told it you're sleeping free."

Cyrus entered the room, and she followed him inside. It was small, with only walking space between the queen-sized bed and the walls. Red light barely illuminated the room from strips fixed to the ceiling, though they turned to a soft orange after a moment. He looked at the lady to find her messing with their controls, the lights shifting from orange to yellow, before paling to a normal light's coloration. Then, the lights dimmed again, granting just enough light to see by.

"There we go," the lady told him. "We can make it brighter if you want."

"No," he pulled off his shirt, revealing a lean, defined build devoid of hair. "This is fine."

"Are we undressing ourselves, then?" She asked as he began undoing his belt.

Cyrus gave her a confused look, before realizing she was meaning to ask if they weren't going to undress each other. He'd forgotten that people did that in the movies he watched, as well as in a few of the stories.

"I don't like being touched," he told her. "If we make too much contact before actually having sex, there's a good chance I'll decide against it and leave. As it is, there's a good chance I won't do much and still end it, even while we're in the middle."

"You don't like being touched?" She asked as he dropped his belt to the floor, then sat on the edge of the bed. "At all?"

"Ever," he answered.

"Were you… beaten a child?" She asked, and he gave her a curious look. "I mean, I know there are the occasional Autistic folks out there, but they aren't as common as they were before the Great Collapse. Most of the people I've met who didn't like being touched had been abused pretty bad. Your parents didn't-"

"No," he interrupted as he began to remove his boots.

"Your brothers?"

"I didn't get beaten as a child," he snorted. "I've just never liked being touched. It's pretty unlike my brothers, they love physical contact. Their first time having sex was as soon as they were legally old enough, and I think they've had a lover in their bed every night since."

"So you just don't like it?" She asked as he unbuttoned his pants, then began to push them down. "There's not something wrong with your brain or some beating or something?"

"Yeah," he answered. "Some people enjoy things others don't, and some people dislike things others don't."

He kicked off his pants, remaining in just his dark blue boxer-briefs as he thought over his dislike of physical contact.

"There's nothing I can think of," he shrugged. "So I suppose that it's just a quirk of mine."

He lifted his hips up as he removed his underwear, then kicked them off once they dropped down to his feet, and he appraised her as she observed the hairless body before her.

"I've never slept with a straight guy as bald as you," she said, and Cyrus ran his fingers through hair, confusion clear on his face. She laughed in response to that. "I meant down low, Cyrus. Usually, only the gay or bisexual men shave or wax it all off."

"Oh," he said. "I don't. Downside of being a god, we don't have body hair. Or facial. I don't really care, though my brothers say they wish they at least had a bush, since it's a turn-off to some for a guy to be hairless around the crotch."

"Well," she removed her own underwear as Cyrus assessed his crotch. "It doesn't bother me either way, it just surprised me. I inherited good genes like yours. Some of the other ladies complain about shaving down there, while I've never had to, yet there's not a hair to be seen."

Cyrus turned his gaze to her, then nodded. She was as smooth as he was. He felt like he was supposed to compliment her, since she was naked before him. From what he remembered of the books and movies he had seen, that was normal to do.

"You have a nice body."

"Thanks," she smiled. "I noticed you didn't comment about my boobs. Most guys usually mention them specifically."

"They're around average," he said. "Not extraordinary. Should I have complimented them?"

He realized only at her shocked expression that he had likely just insulted her, but he didn't care too much. At the moment, he was starting to feel anxiety over the prospect of having not just slight physical contact with someone, but full-on intimate physical contact.

"Just me commenting another difference between you and other guys I've been with," she said. "You should be a little more confident when it comes to sex, by the way. That's definitely a pleasure tool down there."

"Can we just get started?" He asked. "And stop this chatter?"

"Sure," she climbed onto the bed. "How do you want this?"

"I know positions," he said. "What do you want?"

She lay on her back, and Cyrus climbed on top of her, pushing into her. He gasped at the unexpected feeling of pleasure and tightness around his erection, noticing her gasping at the same time. As he began to just do the basics and fuck, Cyrus stared into her green eyes, breathing heavily quickly from the feelings, his inexperienced body unable to fully handle it.

Cyrus quickly reached his climax, though he didn't stop, continuing until his second. Only then did he pull out and lay on the bed beside the lady, keeping a small distance between them as he thought over it. It wasn't as good as he'd been led to expect through books and movies, but still felt nice to him. He was tense, though, and knew he had been throughout the act.

Physical contact really wasn't his thing.

After a few minutes, Cyrus asked something he knew she had probably heard many times before. Despite that, he couldn't resist asking the question.

"How do I compare?"

"Most amateurs," she said. "Either try to emulate what they've seen in porn or read in erotica, which results in my own amusement at their stupidity, or they go with the basics. You did the latter, and in comparison to others who do, I was impressed that you kept going. Most guys stop immediately."

"I was still horny," and he still was, but he was done with contact for the night, possibly the year.

"I figured," she turned onto her side and noticed his eyes drifting closed. "Sleepy?"

"It's almost two in the morning," he responded, his voice barely a mutter. "And I haven't slept in two days."

"Well, we have the room for the night," she told him. "And don't have to vacate it until one."

By the time she finished speaking, Cyrus had already fell asleep, and he slept until nearly noon without stirring once. Feeling refreshed, he looked at the lady of the night, who was awake and had been watching him sleep, a slight smile on her face.

"That expression always on your face," she told him. "Didn't leave as you slept. Most people, their expressions relax while sleeping, or they turn happy or fearful. Yours remained the same."

"I don't change much, even when sleeping."

"I figured," she told him as he sat up. "Do you want to go for another round?"

"No," he answered as he climbed off the bed, then began to dress. Once was enough for him, even if he was horny. "I'm leaving town. Thank you, for at least convincing me to give it a try."

"You're welcome," she sat up, not bothering to use the blanket to cover her chest like she would most guys who rejected her after waking up. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Asking is free in most cases."

"If you could meet Rynovar," she said. "What would you do?"

"You're talking about the quest?" He asked.

"Yes," she answered. "You'd mentioned it last night, when we were at the bar."

"I have a question for him," he answered. "One I've had since I was little."

"Does it relate to your father?" She asked, and he raised an eyebrow. "You mentioned last night that you were in an orphanage. I figured there's a story there, and you might want answers about it from the god who oversees all."

"Maybe I do," he answered. "The question is for me to know."

"So are your parents dead?" She asked.

"My parents are gods," he scoffed. "They're quite alive."

"They left you at an orphanage, then?" She asked. "You must have feelings about that, especially with the anger I heard in that scoff. Have you ever met them?"

"If I ever meet my father," he growled as he yanked his shirt on, then walked to the door. "I'm going to punch him in the face."

"That sounds like a lot of hate," she said.

"He deserves it."

"And your mother?"

"She contacts me regularly," he reached for the knob, then looked at her. "It's only fair to answer the same question."

"About the quest?" She asked. "I'm hoping I can save up enough money to perform the quest. My request would be to grant me more magical power. I'm a Tier One Circle. I can barely manipulate a candle's flame, and that's the extent of my magical talent. I'm better than I was when I awakened two years ago, but I'm sure it would take me a full fifty years just to progress to Tier Four, and that's my potential, after all. I actually doubt I'd hit Tier Two in my life."

"You want to meet Rynovar," he said. "And ask for increased power?"

"Yes," she answered. "And more affinities. I know no one knows if that's actually within his power, but he is the god who rules the world. If anyone could do it, he could. He carved out an island from the land and raised it into the sky, keeping it sustained in the sky through unknown means. His powers go far beyond what we mortals can do. I want to have more affinities and be stronger because it would open up more possibilities for me. Careers I would actually like to be in long-term."

"It was actually Kylnar who lifted the island," Cyrus told her. "Through a feat of enchantments that surpass current mortal ability on nearly every world with intelligent life. It's powered through an enchanted orb which generates mana regularly."

As he spoke, he tapped his fingers on the handle to the door, thinking at the same time.

"Rynovar might be able to grant that request," Cyrus told her. "At least for elemental affinities. I doubt he'd turn someone into a Jewel. It's definitely not something a mortal could do, though."

He frowned.

"How do you plan on doing the quest?" He asked. "Your magic is quite insufficient for it to do it alone, and you're working as a prostitute for a brothel restaurant."

"I make a decent cut," she told him. "Though I'll admit it might take me awhile to properly save up enough to hire a party to delve into one of the deeper dungeons and retrieve the token, and finding the Silver Oracle won't be easy, either. The other parts of it would be just as difficult."

"Even if you made a hundred a night," he told her. "Every night, and for thirty years, you'd still not have enough to match what some have spent on trying to accomplish the quest. None have ever succeeded."

"No one even knows where to find the Silver Oracle," she said. "It's rumored to be a way for him to tell people it's possible while it's really impossible. That she doesn't actually exist at all, but is said to just to give people hope of a wish being granted by our godking."

"She exists," Cyrus said. "I've met her before."

The lady stared at him, eyes wide with shock, and he shrugged.

"If you know what to look for and who to ask," he said. "The clues to her location exist."

"You're doing the quest?" She asked him.

"No," he answered. "I got curious when I was ten because of the theory that she didn't actually exist. So I decided to look into it and found her."

"When you were ten?"

"I'm a god," he shrugged. "It wasn't that advanced for me. Most ten-year-old mortals probably wouldn't manage finding her."

"What do you think the odds are of me finding her?" She asked.

"Nonexistent," he answered, fingers tapping on the handle again. "At least, not without a massive hint. Not just any mortal could convince me to have sex. What's your name?"

"Lyda," she answered.

"Lyda," he fixed his gaze on hers. "If you're able to leave here, I would be more than willing to take you to meet her. There's something special about you. That's the only explanation for how you were able to convince me to sleep with you. Trust me, far more skilled silvertongues have tried."

He had a partially selfish reason for his decision to take her to the Silver Oracle. The Silver Oracle would likely be able to explain how she succeeded when all others failed. He'd had those thoughts before, yet never gave in to them. Why would she be different?

"Take me to her?" Lyda asked. "You are offering to take me to the Silver Oracle?"

"Yes," he answered. "Would you like to accept the offer? I'll cover the cost of the trip there and back for you, but it would require you to be able to make the trip."

"I just need to tell Madam Mara I'm going on a trip," she told him. "And I'll be fine. They employ me, but they don't own me."

"Okay," he said. "Is that a 'yes', then?"