Living in this regrowing city really is pretty stressful.

During the day, there are starting to be people everywhere he looks. People to the left, people to the right. When the sun is out, you can’t take five steps outside without running into another person, and each and every one of them seems to be living such a rich and fulfilling life, as far as he can tell. It certainly always looks that way, at least when they’re marching down past their home in groups composed entirely of laughing friends. Some of the adventurers are adorned with ornate, intimidating metal armor, while others are more sparsely prepared for close confrontations, wearing thin robes and carrying staves. But the one thing that they all have in common is that they all pass by far down below his window together, always in groups.

Noisy, noisy groups.

That’s how it usually goes. People never really went to the new dungeon here by themselves. The newly birthed dungeon had appeared two years ago all by itself. It’s too… easy, too simple to beat. It’s more fun to go together.

The man sighs, staring out of the large, polished window of the towering room, inside which he sits together with his wife once again with a mug in his hand, and a book laid out atop the booth-table that he sits at. But he doesn’t read the book, despite it lying open to some page, the number of which he has long since forgotten. This is because it is a picture book. It’s not really to his taste. Instead, he simply holds onto his full mug and he stares out through the window with a longing in his eyes - a longing for even more of this rare peace and quiet.

The world really looks so quiet out there when it's dark.

“It is very peaceful, yes?” asks her voice across from him.

Hineni feels a leg rubbing against his ankle and turns his gaze to look across the table by the window, inside of their home in the world-tree. Obscura is sitting there, half-down below the table so her leg can reach his, her fingers holding onto the edge of the table so that she doesn’t slip down. Her disheveled, feathered, and short hair could use a wash, just like his.

“Favorite time of the day,” he says, taking a sip of his drink and looking at her.

It’s dark outside — very dark. It’s beyond early in the morning, and most of the world is asleep, thankfully.

It’s in these weak hours of the day that the two of them find time for one-another. Sometimes to go on walks together, or to cook, or to share a book. Sometimes for romantic inclinations, and sometimes to just… sit in quiet bliss.

“How long do we have left?” he asks, knowing the answer.

The once-owl-god, now inhabiting a fully human body, slides back up slowly to sit properly on the bench again with a little difficulty. “Three,” she replies, resting her elbows on the table and then her head in her palms. “- Minutes.”

Hineni sighs, sliding the mug over to her. She looks down at its steaming contents, deciding if she feels like it today or not, making a series of clicking noises with her mouth as she thinks.

“Wanna run away and start a new life together in another city?” he asks, straightening his back and stretching now that their quiet phase is about to come to an end, as happens every day.

Obscura takes the mug, the steam rising up past her tired eyes as she looks at him. “The Hineni-man has never lost his cruelty,” she says, swaying with her head from side to side. The woman takes a tender sip of the tea, watching him. “She had hoped that this soft life would temper his wicked ways.”

“You know me,” he replies, stretching his leg out to touch her ankle. The two of them kick at each other lightly below the table. “Had a rough childhood, you know?” he asks, tapping his head. “Abandonment issues. It was a whole thing.”

Obscura shakes her head and slides the mug back toward him over the table, and he reaches out to grab it, his hands wrapping over hers instead of the mug itself, however, as she has yet to let go.

The two of them stare at one another, the war beneath the table continuing as always as four legs kick beneath the table.

“No talons, remember?” he asks, as her foot slides down along his shin.

She tsks, hissing at him. “This form is inferior,” she says, looking down at their hands holding the mug together. “How does one hunt soft things in such a state?” she asks.

Hineni shrugs. “Well, what worked for me was hooting at her,” replies the man.

“WHO~!” hoots the not-owl-god at him, both offended and pleased at his vile charms.

— The room shakes.

The two of them, locked in a battle of fumbling hands and legs, turn to look at the door. “It is time,” says Obscura, slowly rising to her feet.

Hineni nods, listening to the wood groan and creak from all around them as the world-tree house is filled with movement.

“You ready?” asks the man, getting up before his much slower wife. He walks around the table, letting her take his hand as she steps out over the bench at a meandering pace.

“Can one ever be so?” she asks, escaping from the bench. The two of them look down together at the large swelling of her stomach, indicating that she is with child.

— Again.

Screaming, shrieking voices come from the hallway, and the house comes to life as its other inhabitants make themselves known.

“Still not too late to run away together,” says Hineni, raising an eyebrow.

“FOOL!” hoots Obscura at him, snapping her teeth his way like they were a beak as the door to the kitchen slams open violently, the handle striking into the well-indented bump in the wooden wall where it had struck a hundred times over already. “It is far too late. We are doomed.”

It has been over five years since the end of the Horse-God’s complot. A lot has happened since then.

“It’s MINE!” yells a shrill voice, a girl’s, coming from the body of a small child pressed against the door, her face smushing a little. She jumps backward, throwing her weight onto the boy behind her; the two of them fall to the floor.

He rolls, both of them scrambling in their early-morning tussle. “GET OFF ME! MOUSE BREATH!” yells the boy.

“YOU HAVE MOUSE BREATH!” she shrieks at him, the two of them pulling at each others' darkening hair. It was much brighter when they were born, but it changed to their respective darker tones as they got older. “- DAD!”

Hineni sighs, bending down and grabbing the both of them, lifting them both into the air and apart from one another. “He stole my doll!” she yells, her golden hawthorne eyes boring into him.

“As if I’d want your ugly, stupid doll!” barks the boy back at her, causing the girl to swing out, trying to hit him, but to no avail. He’s more on Hineni’s side of the blood, taking after Nekyia’s green eyes and pale complexion.

“Settle down, both of you,” says Hineni, the two of them falling silent immediately. He looks at them. “First of all, both of you have mouse breath,” he says, getting pinched from behind for his trouble. “Go to the washroom and clean up,” he instructs. “Second, don’t stress your poor mother like this every day.”

“But Daaad~!” whines the girl, widening her eyes and staring up at him.

Damn.

He averts his gaze, doing his best to avoid the cruel spell. She knows that he has trouble with that look — the little demon. Children are quick to pick up on these things. She saw her mother do it once, and after that, it was a lost battle for him. Now he has to fight against the two of them. At least the boy hasn’t picked up on it.

A voice comes from the side as hands wrap themselves around his stomach. “Thirdly. You will listen to your father, yes?” asks Obscura, placing her head down beneath his lifted arm to stare at them. “Or you will both be devoured by the shadows that crawl in the darkness of the forest floors.”

The two of them fall pale and silent at this vague threat.

“- HEY!” snaps a loud, shrill voice. The two of them turn their heads, looking up at a crevice in the wooden rafters. “Some of us are trying to sleep here!” barks Eilig, her face popping out of the gap between the wall and the ceiling.

“Now you did it,” sighs Hineni, looking back at them. “Say ‘sorry’ to your Aunt Eilig.”

The two of them lower their heads as he sets them down, speaking at the same time in a monotone droll. “…Sorry Aunt Eilig…” chant the two of them at once, well practiced in this routine.

“Not you two,” buzzes the fairy, flying out of her hole and yanking on Hineni’s ear. “Get out of here!” she barks at the two children, who take their chance to escape. “I meant you,” she snaps, yanking on him. “Go sit in some other room every morning, you weirdos!” she snaps, looking at him and then at Obscura. “Every day it’s the same thing.”

Hineni lifts a hand, pressing his palm down under her legs to let her land on it. “Breakfast, Eilig?” asks Hineni, looking down at the toy mouse that both of the kids forgot, still lying on the ground. It’s oddly wet and covered in chew marks. One of the bead eyes was nibbled off.

— As tends to happen.

She sighs, letting go of his ear. “You’re gonna spoil them.”

Hineni shrugs. “I guess I don’t have it in me to be a hard dad,” explains Hineni. “Childhood trauma, you know?”

“Really?” she asks, incredulously. “How many times are you gonna use that one?”

“It is true,” replies Obscura, slowly shuffling away toward the stove to get it fired. “He is as soft to his brood as the underbelly of damp frogs,” says the once-owl-god. She looks his way contentedly. “But at least he is well practiced, after years of the river-boy.”

Eilig groans, rolling her eyes at the mention of Rhine. The two of them are somewhat at odds these days because she thinks that he’s a bad influence on the kids. But what this really means is that her position as their favorite is in danger, because while she’s the fun Aunt, they just think big brother Rhine is cooler and emulate him often when he’s around.

“What can I say?” asks Hineni, setting Eilig onto his shoulder, and then getting to work. “I was always meant to be a family-man. Anyway, as if you aren’t always sneaking them candy, Eilig.”

“No idea what you mean,” replies the fairy, crossing her arms and lifting her nose.

Hineni holds down a laugh. “Seems unfair, you know?” he asks, looking at her. “I never got any candy from you.”

The fairy opens an eye, looking his way. “That’s because I like them more than you,” she says. “They’re less annoying.”

“Fair enough,” replies Hineni, shrugging. “Eggs?” he asks, looking over at Obscura, who stares in a strange, ever-repeating dilemma as they decide on today's breakfast.

“Obscura will devour the young of the weak,” replies his waddling wife, getting a pan out of the cabinet.

Nekyia, sitting on the floor, holds up four fingers.

“One. Two. Three…” counts Hineni’s son, looking at them. “…uh…” He closes his eyes, trying to think.

“You are almost there,” says Nekyia.

Someone grabs her from the side. “I want pretty hair like you, Aunt Nini,” says the young girl, Hineni’s daughter. Nekyia turns her head, looking at the girl who is pulling on her own tawny strands, displeasure on her face.

“Do not worry,” says Nekyia, lifting her up and setting her onto her lap. “It took me a long time,” says the pale woman, squishing her face against the girl’s cheek. “You’ll grow up to be pretty like me too.”

“- Four!” says the voice from next to her.

“Good boy!” says Nekyia, beaming and looking her way as he frowns at her praise.

“Dad says you’re not supposed to say that because ‘it’s weird’,” explains the oldest twin.

Nekyia reaches out, grabbing him, her face overshadowed as she looks at him from up close. “Guess what being in this family makes you?” she asks, her voice almost taking on a threatening tone.

“…Rich?” guesses the girl on her lap.

Nekyia beams, pulling back to look at them both with pride. “You’re both so precious!” she says excitedly. “I could just eat you up!”

“- Dad says you’re not allowed to eat us,” says the boy.

Nekyia looks at him. “Your father says a lot of nonsense,” she explains. “He didn’t get the family brains or the looks,” explains the once-frog-goddess, tapping her head. “When we were born, I kept it all for myself.”

Someone clears their throat on the other side of the room.

“Ahem.” The three of them turn to look. “If you’re all done interrupting…” says Seltsam. “Nekyia, thank you for your help,” says the librarian. “I can take it from here,” she explains. “We can count to one-hundred now, actually.”

The room is quiet.

Nekyia lifts her hand.

“…Yes?” asks Seltsam.

“Can they skip class today?” she asks, the children’s eyes widening in hope.

The librarian sighs. “No, Nekyia. They can not skip class today,” she replies immediately, resulting in a pair of sad groans.

“Sorry,” says Nekyia, getting up and shrugging. “I tried.”

“Stop making me look bad!” barks Seltsam. “The two of them receiving a formal education is very important!” explains the hooded woman. “It’s my job to teach them all of their valuable life skills, like arithmetic and geography!”

Seltsam is still bound by her nature as a supreme introvert; however, she’s adapted to family-life too, along with the rest of them. As for her nature as a gorgon, a monster that paralyzes people, well, that’s still in place. However, a little magical crafting has allowed her to avoid the nasty habit of petrifying people when they look at her.

— That being said, she still prefers to simply never be looked at. Old habits.

Nekyia lifts her hands, closing her eyes and shaking her head. “Okay, okay,” she relents, walking past the robed figure and up to a shelf. “Let me just grab this book here and I’ll -” Nekyia throws the book into the air. Seltsam lets out a quiet scream as she watches it fly, and in the second she’s distracted, Nekyia grabs her, wrapping her arms around the librarian. “- GO! RUN!” yells Nekyia, holding Seltsam.

The twins scramble, laughing as they escape the library just in time as a single book thuds against the floor.

It’s quiet.

“…Really…?” asks Seltsam, turning her head down to look at the book on the floor. “You’re going to get me in trouble,” she explains quietly. “I’m being counted on to fulfill my responsibility toward their further education!” argues the shy librarian.

“Sure, sure,” replies Nekyia. “Got any books on frogs around here?”

“— You know that I have several dozen books on frogs, Nekyia,” replies Seltsam, lifting her head slightly, the two of them staring at one another.

“I know,” replies Nekyia. “Just making small talk,” explains the former frog goddess, shrugging.

It’s quiet.

“…They’ll be back in a second…” says Seltsam.

“- I know,” says Nekyia, leaning in as the two of them kiss.

— The door crashes open violently, slamming against the shelves behind it.

“Ew…!” says a voice, the two of them turning to look at Rhine, who is walking in, lowering his head as he steps under through the door-frame, holding two escapees in either of his hands. “Always with the kissing. Gross, right?” he asks, both of the kids nodding.

“Mom and dad do that too!” says the girl.

“Don’t I know it?” replies Rhine, setting them down on their chairs. He plants his hands on their shoulders, preventing another escape. “Selty, they’re all yours,” he says, pointing at her and winking as he turns to leave.

“Ah… I… uh, wait!” calls Seltsam, still trapped.

“— It’s already handled,” replies Rhine, lifting a hand to wave back to her as he walks away, his very long, azure blue hair draping behind him. In the five years since, he’s grown considerably in height but not in width, giving him a very lean and elegant appearance, noble, hardened by his work in the forge. It’s a real problem because he’s become a bit of a heart-throb in the eyes of the general public whenever they go out.

Nekyia lets out a short, shrill scream as a gloved hand covers her mouth from behind, the other grabbing her arms and locking them behind her back. A tanned elf with dusty blonde hair, having crept from the shadows behind them, kidnaps Nekyia and drags her out of the door.

Seltsam waves as she ‘goes’, her other hand pulling the edge of her hood down tighter to hide her embarrassed face.

Through the oddity of all oddities, the two of them became a thing after the events of the horse-god’s complot. It turns out that having a history of being a shunned monster really connects people in some way.

“Miss Seltsam?” asks a voice. Seltsam looks up, peeking out from under her hood, at the girl, who has lifted her hand. “What’s your favorite animal?” she asks.

— The door quietly closes as Nekyia is removed from the space.

“Well… now that you ask…” starts the mousy librarian, Seltsam.

“You think they’re gonna grow up weird?” asks Hineni, lying on his back.

It is dark, being the middle of the next night. Everyone is asleep. A warm summer’s air moves in around them, together with a cool breeze that wicks away sweat from their bodies.

Someone lets out a soft hooting noise. “The Hineni-man can still be so dire,” says Obscura, looking down at him with moonlight draping over her body. “Our young will be all strong hunters with keen eyes and sharp minds,” she explains. The once-owl-god holds her arms out to the sides, as if they were wings she were stretching outwardly in a display of power. “With my rare beauty and Hineni’s many gifts, they will not be ‘weird’,” finishes Obscura.

Hineni looks at her.

“— I mean, sure,” he replies, lifting a hand and holding it against the front of her torso. “But I meant because of, uh… all of the ‘influences’ they’re getting?”

Obscura grabs hold of his raised hand, holding it with both of hers where it rests. “Foolish creature,” she says, clicking with her mouth. “Both he and his Obscura grew up without family and became odd,” explains his wife, before then lifting his hand to kiss it. “One and one became two, and two became many, many more,” she says, shaking her head. “However, this is odd for the ones, us,” she says. Obscura looks down at him. “We live in a nest that we made, but do not come from.”

“You’re saying that we’re the weird ones here?” he asks.

“We are,” replies Obscura. “They will be fine, just as Hineni and I have become,” she explains. “Better, even. For they have what we did not.”

Both of their hands interlock as the soft wind from before moves through the room.

“They will grow with their family,” says Obscura. “As will we,” she finishes, her soft smile caught in the night that they share as their bodies move once more.

“Okay, so here’s the deal,” says Sockel. She pulls the knife from one side to the other in a single, quick motion across the monster’s slender throat. “- Fast and deep,” recites the elf.

The goblin gurgles, falling down into a heap. Black blood drips down her gloved fingers. “If you’re too slow, you won’t cut deep enough, and it’ll just make a big mess,” explains the elf, looking down at the dead goblin. “The last thing you want is someone acting like a wounded animal. That makes them dangerous.” The elf looks at the two children. “What did we learn yesterday?”

The two children look at one another before turning back to her. “Fast and deep, soon to sleep,” recite the twins. “Slow and shallow, back tomorrow.”

Sockel nods, smiling.

“Auntie Sockel. Are we allowed to be out here?” asks the boy.

“Ah-ah!” scolds Sockel, wagging a finger. “What did we say about asking questions?” asks the elf, leaning down and looking at them.

“…Don’t ask too many?” he replies.

Sockel nods. “Do you want to spend time with your Auntie Sockel or not?” she asks, taking off her gloves. Both of them eagerly nod. The elf smiles, rustling their hair. “You’re great kids. Gods, makes me want to have my own,” she says, turning her head to look away into the forest for a while.

“- Can I kill the next one?” asks a voice, the girl.

“Huh?! I want to kill the next one!” argues the boy.

“- Ah-ah!” reprimands Sockel, stopping them. The two of them look her way as she reaches into her bag, pulling out a stuffed toy mouse that has been gnawed and chewed on very often by sharp little teeth.

Immediately, their eyes go wide, focusing on it as she holds it in the air. As she moves her hand, they carefully move their gaze, tracking it everywhere it goes, watching it with a gaze that could be misconstrued as belonging to owls and not humans.

Funny how that works.

“You know the rules,” she says. “First one to find the mouse gets the next kill,” she says, before immediately spinning and throwing the mouse into the air.

The two children scramble, the girl moving through the trees, almost flapping her arms as if she were trying to fly, and the boy leaping from one forest mound to the next as if he were hopping. If she didn’t know their roots, she’d think they’re a bit of a mess in the head. But there’s more going on there than meets the eye.

Sockel stands there in the dark, hands on her hips, as she watches them vanish into the underbrush like a pair of wild killers.

Everyone else might be getting comfortable in their retirement, but she knows the game. Whenever a game-board is knocked over, all of the pieces are never lost. There’s always somebody, somewhere, who managed to cling on to the table. To not expect that to be the case would come back to bite them all in the ass one day.

She’s going to make sure this family is ready when it happens.

It would be a shame to end her retirement now. She’s enjoying it a lot. She’s really getting into the whole thing. Really.

Sockel wipes a strand of dusty blonde hair out of her face, walking after them and listening to their fight in the underbrush for dominance against one another — frog, four, against owl, three, fighting over a mouse, five.

The elf shakes her head.

The more things change, the more they stay the same.