“Five?” I ask. “So… one should be filled already, right?”
“Actually… two,” Shaq’Rai says, smug as ever. Her voice cuts like a blade.
A frown creeps onto my face. “Two? I’ve only adopted Ember.”
She clicks her tongue—loud, deliberate, full of fake disappointment. “Tsk. Already neglecting your duties. You’ve left one child behind… waiting at your estate.”
My chest tightens. Confusion hits first, then something heavier, sharper. “What estate? I just got here.”
Before she can answer, something cold sinks into my ribs. My chest feels like it’s caving in. The vambrace flares red, a streak of light slicing through the dark—
A groan builds in my throat. I drag a hand over my face, as if I could rub the frustration out of my skin. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
Shaq’Rai hums, her voice slick with amusement. She’s enjoying this. “New Quest Added: The Estranged Father. Objective—find your other daughter’s name and history. Good luck, Deadbeat Daddy.”
A soft sound rises through the quiet—a snort. Then a giggle. Faint but clear. I swear I can hear Ishtar and Zen laughing somewhere out there in the void, like the gods themselves are watching and cracking jokes at my expense.
I exhale slow, my thoughts racing. A quest. A title. And yet it feels… real. Heavier than it should. The fire crackles again, but it doesn’t warm me anymore. It just flickers—distant and cold, like the silence that follows a storm.
The weight of being the last human presses down harder every day. And now, with another daughter out there—one I didn’t even know about—how long before this world asks more of me than I’m ready to give?
I sit still, watching the fire spit embers into the dark—each spark rising, fading, gone. Like memories. Like chances.
The last human.
A father—twice over, apparently.
And now I’m supposed to build a dynasty?
This world doesn’t understand the concept of slowing down. Everything has strings attached. Nothing’s ever just what it seems. No breaks. No mercy. Just this endless push forward, whether I’m ready or not.
Lately? Yeah, it’s been a lot. Died. Woke up in some wild new world. Ended up adopting a demon daughter with a temper like dry lightning. And now I find out there’s another one—another kid out there. One I don’t even remember.
Shaq’Rai clears her nonexistent throat, full of self-importance. I can picture her, smug and ghostly, straightening her shoulders like she’s about to deliver a royal decree instead of stirring up more chaos.
“Quest Alert!” she declares, practically glowing with pride. “Updated: A Bond Forged in Legacy!”
The words echo. Heavy.
Legacy.
Bond.
Family.
Things I thought I’d left behind a long time ago. Things I wasn’t supposed to deal with again—especially not here, not like this. But now… I’m two for two in the fatherhood department, and the world seems hell-bent on making me face it.
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The fire crackles, its flames twisting like they’re trying to climb higher, reach farther.
The heat doesn’t comfort me.
It just reminds me: this place isn’t slowing down. Not for me. Not for anyone.
And somewhere out there, beyond the edge of the firelight, it feels like the world is watching—waiting—to see what I’ll do next.
I groan and rub my temples, the weight of everything pressing down like a storm cloud. “Oh, great. Another cryptic mission.”
Shaq’Rai doesn’t miss a beat. Her voice flows on—cool, detached, like she’s reading lines from a play only she finds amusing.
“Modified Quest Details as follows,” she announces, ignoring the sarcasm bleeding from my tone. “Quest Giver: Unknown. Location: The Whispering Glade—an oh-so-tranquil little paradise, just a hop away from Enchanted Lake.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Yeah, that doesn’t sound suspicious at all.”
She presses on, unbothered. That smooth, too-perfect voice of hers doesn’t so much as twitch.
“Objective: Strengthen your bond with Ember… and uncover the hidden link to your estranged daughter.”
The words land like a punch. No warning. No buildup. Just impact.
My breath catches. The air feels thinner somehow, and my chest—
It hurts. Not sharp. Not sudden. Just this deep, hollow ache, like something got carved out of me when I wasn’t looking.
The vambrace on my arm hums—a low, steady thrum that feels almost… knowing. A faint warmth pulses across my skin. A reminder.
This isn’t some twisted game.
This is real. All of it.
“…Estranged daughter?”
My voice barely comes out. It’s rough, quiet.
Not confused.
Not anymore.
It sounds like guilt.
She starts her tale with all the drama of a bard spinning legends by firelight.
“Legends whisper of a bond between you and a spirit of flames—a Kindred Spirit,” she says, her voice shifting into that smooth, storybook rhythm. “This spirit mirrors your potential. A companion through your trials. But before you can truly connect, you must face another spirit—one tied to your forgotten past. She holds the key to bonds yet forged… and secrets long buried.”
I lean back, eyes drifting up to the sky. It’s too perfect. The stars don’t twinkle—they gleam, like polished glass pinned to velvet. Sharp. Unnatural. Like someone designed the whole thing with careful hands and too much time.
The air feels thin, like I’m breathing in something less than real. A stage set too clean.
“…Why does that sound more like a prophecy than a quest update?”
Shaq’Rai perks up, way too pleased with herself.
“Oh, you’re catching on! How delightful.”
Then comes the chime. That bright, cheery ping that rings out in the back of my mind—like a notification in some cosmic game menu. Loud. Out of place. Almost mocking.
I drag a hand down my face. Trying to make sense of this mess. Another spirit? Another bond? Every step forward in this world feels like walking deeper into a maze someone built just to mess with me.
But her words won’t leave me alone.
A spirit linked to my forgotten past.
What the hell is that supposed to mean?
And why does it feel like I’m the last person in the world who’s allowed to forget?
I scowl, the muscles in my forehead tightening.
“I swore I asked you to cut that out?”
The chime fades—sudden, like someone let out a breath and slammed a door shut behind it. But I know better. Shaq'Rai doesn’t leave. She lingers. Even when she’s “done,” her presence clings like smoke.
A pause. Then her voice floats in again, way too cheerful.
“Quest Steps: The Whispers of the Spirit. Elder Willow of the Whispers has sensed your Kindred Spirit stirring. Find her. Only she can reveal the truth about your lost bond… and where it leads.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, already feeling the headache creeping in behind my eyes.
Another riddle. Another wild goose chase wrapped in vague clues and fancy names.
“Great. More riddles.”
Shaq'Rai’s tone shifts into something close to a hum. Light, sing-songy. She’s enjoying this.
“Oh, don’t be so grumpy, Grant. You’re making history! Or... remaking it. Kinda blurry.”
I shake my head and let out a short, dry laugh before I can stop myself.
She always knows how to get under my skin—just enough to keep me off balance without pushing me over. But she’s not wrong.
There’s something old and important about this whole thing. Ancient, even. Like I’ve stepped into a story that was already in motion long before I showed up.
A smirk tugs at my mouth, against my better judgment.
“Fine. I accept the quest,” I mutter, the words heavy with reluctant surrender.
They hang in the air like the click of a locked door. Another step forward. Another point of no return.