《The Heroes' Story After Saving the World》How It All Began - Part 4

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“The multiverse theory? What is that?” Zenia asked Jeanne.

“Simply put, there may or may not be other...worlds so to speak, that at times might be incredibly familiar to ours.” Jeanne circled around me and now also squatted next to me, propping her chin onto her folded hands. “Like for example, there might be another world, in which humans exist, albeit with a frankly repulsive fashion sense.”

“Oh no, I only look like this because within hours, I crashed through a building twice, and then fell of a wall.”

Jeanne ignored that comment and continued to explain with a stern voice.

“That’s the gist of it anyway. Now. It has been proposed that depending on the attributes of a world, including ours it may be possible to establish a connection with another world and tap into its resources. Resources including other people.” Jeanne rose up again.

“You mean, someone deliberately brought him here?” Zenia asked.

“Not just someone. You remember why I brought this all up?”

Without missing a beat, Zenia answered: “Because my father sent you to the library.” She too stood up, glancing between me and floor.

“I don’t know what to make of this.”

Having been freed from the immediate presence of these two women, I crawled backwards until my back hit the bed. I pulled myself onto the mattress and looked between the two of them. If she didn’t know what to make of this, then I sure as heck didn’t.

“Do you think my father succeeded in bringing someone from another world to ours? What would he gain from that?” Zenia asked some of the obvious questions.

“Well, if anyone besides him knew, I figured it would have been you. I am... honestly surprised he kept you in the dark,” Jeanne commented.

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“Well, he doesn’t even consider me fit for combat, which is why I’ve barely left the mansion, let alone the city for the past couple of months,” Zenia muttered.

“I think a certain shed would beg to disagree,” I said under my breath.

Zenia let out a small chuckle at that comment. My heart seemed to skip a beat and my breathing got heavy for a moment. I cautiously turned my gaze upwards, to see her smiling down at me. Or was it a smirk? I couldn’t properly tell.

Now, in hindsight, I am fairly confident that she did in fact find what I said funny. Only now, writing it down, I realize how warped some of my thoughts were. Would it be realistic to think of someone smiling at me, after I said something that was supposed to be funny, as them looking down on me?

My prior experience told me yes.

But I realize I am getting too hung up on this.

Let’s continue.

Her smile turned into a frown, as she averted her gaze.

“Sirius ...” She whispered.

“Your brother,” Jeanne added, tilting her head sideways, quizzically.

“I think he knows.” Zenia turned her gaze back to me. “I think he knows what you are. That’s why he tried to gaslight me into killing you.”

That sounded like some soap-opera level drama I didn’t want to get involved in.

“So, he pretended that guy was an Incubus?” Jeanne sighed in exasperation, as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. “You know, something about your brother always rubbed me wrong. I thought he’d make a great leader, but the way he manipulated you tells me he’d make a much better dictator.”

“We need to get this mess sorted,” Zenia announced. “But I have no idea how. I couldn’t possibly go against my father and my brother. What would we gain from that? It would just be a meaningless confrontation that would resolve nothing.”

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As Zenia pondered so, I tried to draw my own conclusions.

“We could use his own methods against him...” I finally said. Some semblance of a plan was forming in my head, though I didn’t know what the intended end result would be.

“What do you mean?” Zenia said in a cold voice. No doubt, she didn’t know what to expect from me either.

I stood up from the bed to be on eye-level with them.

“Your brother. As you said, earlier he tried to gaslight you. Why not get a bit of good old-fashioned revenge?” At the mention of that word Zenia raised an eyebrow. “As far as we know, your brother thinks I’m dead. So, what do you think how he’d react if he saw me with you? Though honestly, I don’t know him well enough to know if it would elicit a response from him at all ...”

“He’d probably try to kill you again,” Zenia proffered.

“Right...but! You mentioned something about a masquerade ball earlier, didn’t you? He wouldn’t kill me in front of all those guests, now, would he?”

“And a masquerade ball would allow you to remain here unnoticed...for the moment,” Zenia added.

“I could use just a tiny bit of magic to mess with him,” Jeanne suggested. “I’m thinking...a few dozen undead humans among the guests would be quite fun, wouldn’t they?”

“You could do that?” I asked her. I got that there was magic now, but I still didn’t know to which extent it could be used.

“Oh, trust me, I’ve conjured up bigger illusions.”

“But what would the point of that be?” Zenia questioned. “Make my brother look insane among all the guests, alright, but then what? How do I explain your presence to my father?”

“You want your father to take you seriously, to be allowed to fight. Use me as leverage. Lie to him if need be.”

Jeanne snapped her fingers and added: “Pretend that he was the one to conjure up that illusion. No-one knows I’m here, right?”

“Great!” I exclaimed. “Tell him, you have managed to summon a powerful mage from another world, and that there are many more, where I came from. He wouldn’t want to risk getting invaded by another dimension, would he?”

Without meaning to, I had gotten eerily close to Zenia. She squinted and looked me in the eye as if to test my resolve not to look away in embarrassment.

She then sighed and replied: “What’s the damage? I have already let in an intruder. If the plan fails, then I’ll at least go out with a bang.”

She turned on her heel, and I let out the oft-quoted breath I didn’t know I was holding.

To my right I noticed Jeanne smiling. To anyone else it might have been a charming smile. Coming from any other woman, it might have as well.

“Can I count on you?”

Zenia’s words ripped my gaze away from the witch. I stuttered and insecurely pointed a finger at myself.

“Of course, when worse comes to worst, you can count on me,” Jeanne replied. “Your father wouldn’t even realize my meddling. I hope. Would be a shame having to cut ties with one of my best clients ...”

Zenia rolled her eyes at that comment, but then came back to me.

“Alright. I suppose you’re not in possession of evening attire?”

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