Chapter 29

  Arthur groaned as he plummeted into his chair. The welcoming leather made a noise, much as his throat had, while its owner sank into its plush depths. Leaning backwards as far as he was able with the intent to simply sit and—relax…

  It earnestly felt like this had been the first time in days that he'd actually sat down. Actually stopped racing about like a chicken with its head cut off…

  Idly, he allowed his eyes to close, body just melting into a puddle of exhausted muscles and borderline insomnia…

  "Lord?"

  "Benny—please stop with that honorific already! For god's sake, just call me Arthur…"

  "Thematically, I thought it fit rather well!"

  "Maybe… but at this point, I'm all lorded out… I think I've heard that word at least a dozen times an hour, every hour, for the past two months!"

  "Beg your pardon, but it does feel—wrong absent the proper title… What if I go back to calling you Sir?"

  Arthur cracked one of his eyes, his gaze landing on the butler's hologram as the AI stood to his side, ever the picture of prim and proper confidence. "I guess… I mean, it's better than the alternative… No offence, but I'd really just like to avoid all the associated aspects of being a king, at least while in my own home…"

  The emphasis he put on his supposed royal title would let anyone know to what degree he was enthused about its existence… Which was, of course, to say that he was not very excited about it…

  He'd really thought he might be able to get away with shirking that little detail going forward… Believed he could just continue on being as he already had been! Sadly, as Dianna really seemed to be hammering her new position home, there was quite a bit of trickle-down that affected him as well.

  It wasn't so much the concept nor the word itself that bothered him so much as all the associated issues that arose with it. As king—or, king consort or, Lord Wizzard or however else people had referred to him, Arthur had become one of the primary problem sovlers in the community.

  The thing was, so said community was rapidly expanding in an exponential explosion of growth! One that had, admittedly, been somewhat spurred on, encouraged, and maybe even just a little pushed along by his truly…

  It wasn't all his fault! Honestly, Arthur couldn't help it! The absolute rush that he felt in seeing the baffled, hopeful and desperate faces of those they released as he directed them to their new lives was—hard to replicate nor ignore… Or, for that matter, give up.

  Arthur felt like a freaking gambling addict that couldn't help himself but feed his addictions! Forever lost in the false promises with which he assured himself that whatever latest batch of villagers he purchased would be the last ones for the month!

  Guaranteeing himself that he could hold off on travelling back to the slave markets if only to give himself a chance to actively work through the myriad slog of duties that all revolved around a growing obsession…

  Evidently, he had a saviour complex the size of old Manhattan! One that had reared its now ugly head when first encountering his daughter, which wasn't something he'd ever want to change… However, as of late, it was like he simply couldn't control his urges! Acting on whims and intrusive thoughts alike to the point that the village had positively swelled with new arrivals!

  Arthur wasn't exactly sure why he found it so addicting a prospect when he'd never really known himself to be so charitable… But he thought it was actually a good deal more complex than that…

  While he was perfectly happy helping those they indoctrinated into their growing community, there was indeed an observable point in which doing so became what he'd name as work.

  And, at this stage, he really did push himself to keep up the small charade of continuing to give a shit… However, the crack ball that he was truly after and couldn't seem to get enough of chasing as it rolled down the street lay somewhere between breaking the chains and pushing people into their beautiful new homes.

  He wasn't a busybody; he didn't try and forcibly direct those he saved or how they used those lives… But, he did have the propensity to categorize people, place them where he initially wanted, and outright drooled over the somewhat fanatical blueprint he'd made that, likewise, got the lion's share of his attention.

  No matter how busy he was, Arthur always seemed to find excuses to make time for the things that he really enjoyed. Building new parts of the settlement, adjusting those that already existed, housing the many vacant buildings with busy little workers that all fed into a slightly concerning and egomaniacal grand plan for their kingdom. One that was starting to border a problematic fixation… Astounding, given how he was acting, he was genuinely wondering if he had a budding deity disorder…

  Arthur could absolutely see himself in the position of some magnanimous man in the clouds! One that had a luxurious Greek beard and that could hurl lightning from his fingertips! Actually, when he stopped to think about it, if he were to give himself god powers, Zeus would probably be from where he drew inspiration…

  He'd always been somewhat enamoured by the old pantheons. Egypt, Norse, Greek and the Sumerian, of course. That had all been when he was younger and utterly enthralled by all the zany stories, but… of them all, Zeus had been something of a favourite.

  Giving himself lightning powers, godly magic, shapshifting abilities and limited control over time itself were all things that did spark a degree of interest. And, as it all was thematically attractive, it also prickled at his desires much more than being—wonder woman, only, with facial hair and wedding tackle…

  Sadly, while the concept as a whole was just amusing enough for him to give it genuine consideration, it didn't exactly fall in line with his prior nor current prototypes. Of which had all been meant to bridge the gap between his wife's biology and his own.

  Arthur hadn't had any luck thus far in actually giving Dianna a child. And lord only knew how hard they'd been trying! He never thought he'd be having this much sex at—any point in his life… But he somewhat now understood what some of those lucky bastards online had complained about when admitting that their significant other was almost—too much…

  Though he absolutely loved it, Dianna was utterly insatiable. Honestly, it was getting so bad that most, if not all, their private time together was spent indulging in each other's bodies…

  With how much work they were both taking on and as they were always trying to ensure Tulla got time with each of them at family dinners and the like, they each were now at a point where, as soon as they were alone, they all but tackled each other with fervent desperation.

  Obviously, that didn't leave a whole lot of time to do what other couples might… Dates, movie nights, simply cuddling on the couch or going out to a party… It was just—dinner and sex most evenings… which he did love! But, there was also something more that he desired, something that he'd begun hunting after in lieu of sleep…

  Many mornings, rather than trying to get a few hours of rest, Arthur instead snuggled up into the furnace of Dianna's body with naught in his heart but love and the desire to simply—talk.

  They could spend hours like that, simply holding each other and speaking after their problems or concerns, sharing thoughts and ideas and whatever else might arise… Not spending time in a more traditional way with one another, but rather, wrapped in each other's limbs while whispering like teenagers until the rootlight shone with daybreak…

  For Dianna, who seemed able to somehow subsist on only a handful of hours of sleep every few days, it was nothing. But for Arthur, her really was burning the candle at both ends…

  Sleep had become something that had gotten kicked off the pedestal of priority. His habits getting so bad that now people were beginning to make comments after how haggard he was looking…

  No, his daughter had been right. It was time that Arthur took his physical shortcomings with a degree more seriousness. He knew that his wife had been giving him something of a free pass, if for no greater reason than that she had other things to focus on. Yet, Arthur was—not at his best… And if gaining more hours of lucid activity during a day cost him part of his humanity, wasn't it worth pursuing?

  He hadn't actually told anyone about this, but the truth was, Arthur was somewhat terrified by the prospect. Despite one of his primary goals involving ways to change his own genome to be compatible with Dia's, a large part of his psyche had balked at the idea he'd be throwing away what he was…

  At some point, Arthur had made the mental determination that his issues revolving around creating a generalized crossbreeding power had something to do with what had happened with Tulla's metamorphosis. Ever since that point, Arthur had felt as though his abilities were garnering more scrutiny…

  The thing was, he could and had created a soul card that would allow him to interbreed as he currently was. However, the drawbacks of such a thing had been concerning… Not only had its base form implied that the odds of success were laughable, but the implications behind the warnings as to abomination chances and defects had made the 'Captain Kirk' something of a throwaway… Add in the fact it would have bound itself to his soul and been a permanent fixture in his deck, and Arthur hadn't dared to actually pursue the idea further.

  In effect, he came back to the concept that being all-powerful in all area's was something of a hard ask of whatever force governed such things. And much like the translation experiments, when he narrowed down his wishlist to simply include human-bal compatibility, the result had been much less problematic.

  Still, he hadn't felt as though he'd been delving down the right rabbit hole… So, he'd put a pin on simply creating something that would allow him to make a bal-human offshoot and, instead, set his mind towards an idea that shared much in concept with Tulla's own alterations.

  If making a hybrid child was difficult for their species, then what would happen between a pre-existing hybrid and a fully purebred bal? Well, as it turned out, much like his apprehensions stemming from creating an army of soulless poultry, playing god with genetics had been a slippery slope that he'd not wanted to immediately slide down…

  Now, however, he was at a crossroads. He really hadn't been lying to Tulla; if Arthur was going to do this, he was going to do it once, and he was going to do it right. And while creating a Zues soul might allow for some cheeky pregnancy shenanigans, he found himself less interested in shapeshifting and more within a mindset that he'd like to choose a form and simply stick with it. Assuming he could make it work.

  He wasn't interested in polygamy after all, nor would he ever find himself in a position of wanting somebody else. He felt he'd already found his soulmate. As strange and different as they were from one another, Arthur had nevertheless come to terms with the notion that Dianna was his—everything… Not literally, of course, but from a relationship viewpoint, he really couldn't ask for anything else!

  He was enamoured by her and didn't much care about any perceived flaws. If anything, they just made her more—human to him… more attractive and relatable and… well, he loved her…

  Thus, Arthur had began working on a means to further immerse himself in both her life, culture, and universe. He wasn't sure if humans exited in the Lacunae, beyond his own presence that was. And, offhandedly, had even pondered if they even belonged here.

  Everything about his existence felt somewhat ad-hoc. From that initial phase where he'd gotten the opportunity to pick the power of his own soul to the means by which he'd arrived, and all the way to how the universe seemed to want to deal with his abilities.

  As it happened, Arthur had even gone through a brief existential crisis wherein he contemplated the reality that he might very well not be—real…

  It had been a concept that the man had been warring over for some time as his mind chipped away at it in the back of his head.

  What if he wasn't the real Arthur?

  To begin with, how did portals work? Were they all a simple flattening of reality between two points? Did they open up a gateway? Or did they do as they did in science fiction? Deconstructing the body to its very foundations before rebuilding it on the other side…

  Arthur hadn't stepped through a portal to get here. He'd been—summoned. Possibly teleported, possibly copied… What was easier for a god to do? Take a snapshot of himself and everything around him and recreate it using magic, or open a trans-dimensional laneway between this realm and his own?

  And why had he crash-landed? Thus far, when taking portals, Arthur hadn't ever fallen, no matter where he went… He always, without fail, appeared on the ground.

  It truly made him wonder if, somewhere out there, amidst the endless—everything that was existence, if there was another Arthur Ashfield who was still living out his life in the forest…

  Worse, he wasn't sure how to really parse the notion that his soul hadn't already had a power associated with it. Was it because such a thing simply didn't exist back home? Or was it because his soul had been raw? Fresh and new, a blank slate that had only just been created, perhaps in association with a brand new person that had been cooked up by a sinister entity…

  It wasn't lost on Arthur as to who had summoned him. And, as it happened, when the young man really thought about it, if the Tricen's god had, for whatever reason, brought him here, why would it have chosen to do so in the first place?

  He wasn't special… Yet despite this belief and objectively speaking, it could be said that Arthur was actively working to undermine the Tricen's mortal foes… Not on an individual level but on a much grander scale.

  At this point, he'd successfully convinced several of the bal to see things his way in regard to certain practices that their people conducted. His village, already growing larger with each passing day, would now stand in direct opposition to any further attempts at bal Imperialism on the continent. More, now his wife was evidently actively looking for ways to further erode her people's foothold by apparently seeking to headhunt the talent.

  Given what he knew about their empire, they wouldn't at all consider what they were trying to do as friendly. Rather, they'd demand they cede their independence; they'd try to take it by force if they could. And, at no point would Arthur ever consider accepting such demands given the path they now travelled.

  By contrast, potential dark god aside, Arthur somewhat suspected he'd be amenable to the possibility of Tricen settling in their community… He didn't hate their people, and while what few interactions he'd shared with them weren't positive nor diplomatic, there was no possible way that everyone from an entire species could be considered terrible…

  It earnestly made him wonder what kind of game he was involved with… And, more, how he might very well be a pawn in some greater scheme, he simply couldn't see… It made him annoyed, it made him concerned… And above all, it gave him a desire to somehow break away from it all by doing something—drastic.

  Hence, his concept that was hybridization.

  If the human couldn't impregnate his wife to create a child of shared lineages, then what might happen if a crossbreed attempted to do the same?

  Peer pressure to fit in aside, he didn't want to give up his humanity. But was turning himself into a genetic hybrid truly giving that up? Or was it further embracing his new life, new family, new friends and even world?

  Arthur wanted children. He already had Tulla, it was true… Yet, Arthur missed having a big family all around him! He'd started off with such a thing… then rejected it in pursuit of his own ambitions and a desire to be alone… But now that he had a taste of it again, he'd slowly realized just how much he missed it all…

  Imagining their dinner table filled with all his children sitting with them, talking about their days, fighting with each other, laughing and joking and complaining and just being—in his damned life was wonderful!

  He pictured Tulla taking all her little siblings by the hand and teaching them as her mother had… Pictured how much she'd probably adore so many of her own kindred, all looking up to her and seeking advice on life itself… How she'd show them all her favourite movies… Introduce them to naughty swear words, just to see her parent's reaction… Take them on trips and get into arguments and fight and make up and…

  Life was too short to spend it alone…

  But what would he be willing to give up for a future like that? One where he could hold Dianna's hands as he knelt and listened to the heartbeat of his child, still in her belly… One where he could hold a little girl or boy in his arms as they cried and sought comfort… Where he could teach and better himself, not just for his own benefit, but to ensure all those around him got the very best he could possibly offer?

  What would Arthur be willing to pay for it? To spend? And possibly even give up… Was being wholly human actually worth never allowing such a future to come to pass?

  Sadly for his pride as human, it was not…

  "Benny… can you bring up Project Lucifer again?"

  "Oh, have we made headway on a decision then?"

  "No…" Arthur sighed, clearing his throat before forcing both of his weary eyes to spring open, his gaze immediately falling upon a wide hologram depicting several—conceptual ideas… "I just want to go over what we have… I think I need to make a decision here, and we haven't made any real headway with anything for weeks now…"

  Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

  "Very good, Sir! I'm sure whatever you ultimately choose will be appropriate."

  Again, Arthur let out another sigh… unable to really help it as he stared at the array of variations of—himself. Each depiction of his person displayed an associated card he'd created with the express intent of mixing his genes with that of his wife's species.

  He had nine total tarots. Nine different benchmarks denoting how much or how little he'd mixed and matched things… Each card, in and along with his designs, displaying a mixed-race example of what the proposed creature might look like.

  And from there, Benny had analyzed them and created a mockup wherein he took the changes and created life-like representations of what Arthur might appear as should he take any one of the soul-binding cards into his deck.

  From the left was the most human-looking of them all. No real considerable changes to speak of… his DNA remaining at ninety percent his own…

  In this example, his irises were purple. His height was mostly the same, musculature almost identical. His teeth were a little more carnivorous, limbs slightly longer at the fingers and toes… nails starting to look slightly sharper and almost vampy, though the effect was relatively muted.

  If anything, Arthur still looked like himself, only there was a small degree of paranormal-like flare to him…

  Shoot up to thirty percent Bal, and Arthur looked much less like he could go outside in daylight without people thinking he was part demon…

  At fifty percent, Arthur had a tail. And whether its appearance was based on his own subconscious or otherwise, this representation was where the project name had arisen from.

  Here, the young man looked very much like a charismatic and incorrigible devil. Still human, but with softly glowing eyes, sharp teeth, small horns, a prehensile and spaded tail. The cadence of a creature appearing as one that lived to make bargains. As though he might snap his fingers and summon a contract for one's soul into existence, the paperwork manifesting in an acrid plume of sulphury smoke…

  At seventy percent, Arthur's theoretical self had wings. His horns were longer, claws vicious and sharp. Appearance much less roguish and magnetic and now entering the realm of the truly infernal.

  It wasn't grotesque, but most, if not all, the aspects of humanity were dwindling by a thread… And if he moved things to eighty percent, he had hooves, a tail much more like Tulla's before her changes, and began to enter the territory of bal rather than what he'd consider a devil.

  At the apex of what he was willing to consider, even if it wasn't with any great interest, was what would leave him as ten percent human. At that point, he almost couldn't distinguish any aspect of his species within himself. Arthur simply appearing as bal, and for all intents and purposes, would likely be one.

  In all honesty, he already had his favourite. Though it wouldn't give him wings, Arthur earnestly didn't exactly need them. He did look much like what he'd assume a bal and human child would eventually grow into… Half demon, half-mortal… though there was something to say regarding the somewhat sinister connotations revolving around turning himself into the visual approximation of a handsome anti-christ…

  "Am I making a mistake with all this?" Arthur eventually asked, still staring at the digital examples of his changed self with a degree of uncertainty… "I mean, I know the Captain Kirk card was going to permanently affix itself to me, but so will this!" He muttered, casting a hand to sweep over the array before them.

  "Sir, if you are unhappy with the appearance—"

  "No, it's not that… Honestly, if I were to just go with the original idea, our children would probably look something like this! It's earnestly not a problem for me… But, if I don't go at least halfsies on this, then our kids might not get wings! I just—feel like that's sort of important, you know? Again, not for me, but for them!"

  "There are ways to get around such a thing…"

  "Yeah, but it won't be the same… I don't want our kids to be—deformed by bal standards… I'd honestly love it if I could just keep the general look of the first picture and… I don't know, add in the wings? I personally don't really want them, but…"

  "I'm afraid I don't really have an answer for you, sir…" Benny intoned, not because he seemed uninterested in Arthur's dilemma, but more because he genuinely didn't have any substantial advice… He'd long since offered his opinions on the matter and, like Arthur himself, the man had little more to give him...

  The thing was, Arthur still wanted his children to have at least some of himself in there! Again, Tulla was different because he'd adopted her as his child… He didn't love her any less for it, but… in all honesty, she had her own sort of—thing going on in regards to her body…

  Part of him was reasonably sure that the girl wasn't wholly biological anymore… and as much as she seemed to embrace and even be excited about the prospect, Arthur himself struggled with the concerns that surrounded losing part of who he was…

  Speaking from the heart, he wasn't even convinced he wanted his children to look like some devil-hybrid… Quite emotionally torn over, wondering if he'd rather them all just look like Dianna… Was creating a new mixed species of people really his best play here? And yet, at the same time, would he be completely happy with seeing next to none of himself in his own offspring?

  It was god's blighted paradox that earnestly had him wanting to pound his forehead against the wall!

  Should he make all his kids human to try and continue the species? Should he make them all bal and simply turn himself into one so the rugrats never asked the question of why Dad looks so silly and weird? Should he consign his children to appear as something new and different, in effect alienating them from either species and potentially risk deformation as nature was allowed it's time to be a bully in the sandbox?

  What if he had kids that all looked different? Some with wings, some with tails, others with both and or neither…

  This was it. This right here. The whole reason why he'd been stuck on this particular project for so long while making absolutely zero progress! Arthur was stumped. What should he do? What would others do?

  Surely, he couldn't be the only reality-warping wizard to stumble upon this very same problem after falling in love with a member of a different species… Why wasn't there some sort of grand network of sorcerers who had come across this very conundrum? Either uploading what they'd done or offering their two cents into the hat in a long-winded and intellectually mudslinging debate?

  The thing was, he was pretty sure what Dianna would have to say on the matter, so he didn't want to ask her because he was afraid she'd say, make them look like me!

  She was a queen, after all, and desired a dynasty. So, it only made sense she'd want her heirs to look as she did!

  Tulla, on the other hand, probably wouldn't care… And further still, she might start offering all manner of goofy solutions like cloning or simply making everyone a transformer!

  Arthur lifted his hands so he could hold his head… the beginning of a headache forming… lack of sleep, and anxiety over the child problem, were wreaking havoc on his person…

  "Well, if nothing else, I'd like my kids to all be—normal… or at least all uniform with each other…"

  "That would mean a higher percentage of bal DNA, Sir."

  "Yes it would, Benny, yes it would…"

  Arthur swallowed at that. The understanding that he cared more about them than he did himself, even if they weren't yet alive, wasn't any surprise. He'd want whatever was best for his kids… And if that meant he had to change himself to do it—fine. Arthur could live with that.

  …However! There actually was something of a gnawing idea in the back of his head that might actually stand to circumvent a good deal of all of this… And though the idea wasn't perfect, and he'd already said shapeshifting wasn't his favourite concept, wasn't it sort of an observable best of both worlds?

  Arthur thought on that idea for a number of silent and dragging minutes. Slowly, the concept of it all emerged as something he felt to be growing on him with each subsequent breath. As it happened, the whole child problem, and as ridiculous as it sounded, might just require him to become a god…

  When the decision had been made, Arthur had something of a wishlist for what he wanted his card to accomplish—or even be. Obviously, simply transforming himself into a lore accurate approximation of the sky god wasn't what he wanted. No, he wanted the concept without the man himself. In effect, hoping to superimpose the idea of the deity, onto his own existence.

  Arthur desired the godly powers, the lightning and thunder, the strength and shapeshifting and, according to some stories, time manipulation and all the other good aspects behind the myth.

  What he didn't desire was the adultery and fetish for animals, anger issues, or marital struggles. Nor was he interested in becoming the legend's doppelganger…

  Was it hubris to go into this whole affair, asking the universe for a way to make himself a deity? Well, the answer to that question was actually somewhat complicated.

  What constituted a god?

  There certainly wasn't any way it could merely come down to the title… there undoubtedly had to be some grit involved, something to back up such a lofty claim; otherwise, what would be the point?

  So, then the question became, was it merely about how strong a person was? The concept of immortality and mortals little more than a shifting scale of power? An obtainable threshold? A clearly defined point at which an individual would, just like that, qualify to be considered a living legend?

  Certainly, Arthur had been doing some very god-like things… And yet, he was, on his own, weak as most any other mortal could be… Sure, he had his tricks and one-offs, but it still didn't encompass the same level of gravitas that the phrase entailed.

  If simply performing grand magical feats or extreme acts of valour were all it took, then both he and his wife could, in theory, be considered for elevation into the realm of immortals. Both of them for presumably different reasons.

  So far as he was concerned, what he had done would definitely count, assuming he was looking at things from his worlds perspective. And, so far as Dia went… Well, given her claims that she could level a city all her own, Arthur thought that she too somewhat fit the bill… again, by the standards of his own world.

  Granted, there was some definite town-foolery going on vis a vis his ability to make the ideal tarots for a combat-oriented individual, but the fact remained that, for a single person to hold that much destructive potential all their own… There simply was no way to view such an individual as merely—mortal anymore.

  So, using that logic, what was the actual difference between a god and somebody like Dianna, one who had both skill, power and a mind to use both? Was it merely how much brute strength was involved? Was it about age? Well, at least in regards to the latter, Dianna would already be long-lived, the power of her soul apparently changing her, much in a similar way to what might be observed as a demi-god in her own right…

  He knew the woman hadn't been slacking off… Whenever she could get time, she was actively moving to improve herself… And, though Arthur wasn't sure how far she'd pushed things, his wife very much was—changing…

  It was the little things… Her body's flaws, few as they had been, were disappearing. She was getting taller, somehow more enchanting than she already was… Her voice, when it was spoken, seemed to enrapture people nearby, almost enthralling them…

  She was becoming something that Arthur might name as idealized. Hell, she didn't even seem to smell anymore, no matter how much of a sweat she worked up! And Arthur just so happened to note that she was using their marital home's facilities less and less.

  Grease rarely formed on her hair. Morning breath was practically non-existent! Her teeth were getting whiter, minor defects correcting themselves, as though all on their own… No, somehow, Dianna truly seemed to be in the budding stages of some form of ascension… Slow and ponderous as it was…

  Looking at her was like imagining what it might have been like to stand near Napoleon, Alexander the Great or Ghengas Khan! Simply a being that seemed larger than life itself, unassailable and somewhat—beyond what any could expect of somebody more normal…

  He didn't want to outright say his wife seemed to be leaving the realm of… well, mortals… However, looking at her, all but resplendent in little more than leather and a braid, was to liken her to some norse goddess of war… the woman all but radiating an aura that he found hard to really nail down…

  Thus, Arthur extrapolated that, in a very real sense, his wife was becoming something more than biological, just as their daughter… And while the differences between the two might be observable, the only thing that Arthur could really pinpoint for it all was that the two were transcending the flesh and becoming—magical…

  The changes for Tulla stemmed through the process of his very own bullshit sci-fi nonsense that very much derived from a magical foundation, while his wife's progress was clearly a much more intended and natural process…

  Given he knew that neither woman had asked for nor been given any form of tarot to simply improve theyre beauty or how they were perceived or anything else along those general lines. Despite both clearly being amidst the process of positive change that affected them in such ways, Arthur likewise hypothesized that the raw power of their souls was the primary driving factor.

  Unless their metamorphosis included such changes, Arthur was now of a mind that increasing the tier of their cards was somehow directly linked to baseline physical improvement.

  So, what was then happening under the hood of it all? Were their genetics being fussed with? Their own bodies evolving with the potential within themselves? Or was there a much more mystic explanation for it all?

  Not for the first time, Arthur oh so desired for there to be some form of magic-land Wikipedia! And, mentally resolved himself to actually create such a thing one of these days and when he, of course, had time to do so…

  However, given that this universe held magic as its core principle that all other things were built upon, Arthur was at least reasonably sure that all the various alterations to the girls were, in point of fact, based wholly on magic.

  Whether it was changing their DNA or simply replacing meat with something more in line with traditionally fay creatures from his own homeland, it didn't really matter. Magic was, and would always be, the lone driving force in his new home…

  Which, perhaps inevitably, drove Arthur to answer his question regarding divinity with a kind of genuine certainty.

  It all came down to magic. Thus, if he desired to achieve his goal of a loving family, a body that would not tire, and a mechanism by which to further submerge himself in this universe, the methodology by which Arthur would achieve as such was not an answer found within the sciences.

  What he needed to do was make himself magical.

  Not give himself magic, not learn how to manipulate magic or how it worked or anything else in that line of reasoning. No, Arthur needed to be magic.

  He needed to give up his DNA. This—body that was made out of flesh and cellular structures… He needed to turn his back on humanity and evolution and genetics all altogether. He needed to become something that could mimic what he already was but would, at its very core, be a being of a wholly alternate existence.

  He needed to become a god. And, what was a god, if not a creature solely created from magic itself? Skin, bones and blood, but only because that was how he wanted to be interpreted. A heart that was little more than a vestigial reminder meant to maintain the illusion. A brain that would theoretically function as it already did, but where the information could process right along no matter if he was decapitated or shot through the head!

  After all, magic didn't play by his rules. Magic didn't care two shits after what biology had to say. Magic could and would and had already proved to do as it so pleased in whatever manner it saw fit!

  Arthur needed to become, in a very vague but somehow appropriate way, a zues…

  "Why does mommy have a tail?" He muttered, standing before his workshop desk, his gaze simply staring down at the lone creation that he'd lost hours to in its inception…

  If Arthur were to write a book, perhaps some autobiography to follow in and along his whacky and potentially nonsensical life and its eventual elevation to godhood. That line alone would stand as the reinforcing pillar behind why he'd done as he had.

  It wasn't because Arthur wanted to be strong. It wasn't because Arthur desired power or the adoration of a loyal subject butchering deer upon the altar of his temple. Arthur didn't desire glory or accolades or anything else within that realm beyond seeing the fruition of his designs come to life and flourish.

  No, the reason he'd created something he felt to be somewhat auspicious, all things considered, was because he didn't want his future children to gaze upon either of their parent's eyes and wonder why they weren't the same as mom or dad…

  Thus, his solution! A card that would presumably allow for both himself and his future kids to—bridge the gap, as it were… Since biology clearly hadn't been the answer, he'd abandoned all other notions and embraced the concept he had put forward to whatever force out there butted heads against him and his designs. Potentially, if his own soul card could be interpreted as such, creating a fork in the road of his soon-to-be offshoot species that was guided by a hand filled with all the hubris of immortals that left the wake he now followed in.

  The tarot resting before him was white. Eerily reminiscent of his own in that yet undisclosed regard… It would be soul-bound to him the moment he took it in. A permanent fixture in his deck, from which there would be no coming back…

  And, as a gesture of goodwill considering what had been asked, Arthur had even taken his yet sole time card and used it as the basis for the ensuing and silent argument that had followed.

  There were several things that he understood about this card, even without allowing it to bond with him. The first being that, much like his own soul, Arthur suspected that this tarot would react in much the same way.

  His power that allowed him to change souls was—strange. Not only because it did as it did, but because he'd not yet actually been able to improve it. Despite what somewhat paltry attempts had been made, his soul remained at its base state, that singular star never changing, no matter how much power he'd fed it.

  While he still wasn't sure what its deviation from the somewhat more familiar pattern of tiers truly meant, he had a working theory that they were either somehow beyond even gold and, thus, abhorrent difficult to improve. A concept he wasn't entirely sold on given how much it clashed with how he understood the power to work…

  Alternatively, it could possibly mean that the card just wasn't—improvable… at least, not in the standard sense. Either taking power from other souls around it or, somehow, working with an entirely different set of rules… But, regardless, he supposed he'd be figuring it all out sooner than later at this point.

  Next was that the new tarot did as it had been envisioned. Though there had been no inconsiderable amount of pushback before it had manifested. As well as a somewhat concerning degree of time involved to go along with a kind of cloying, searching sensation in his head, as if something were routing around his memories for it all… The soul promised precisely as he'd envisioned it.

  It wasn't named 'the zues.' However, the designation that the universe had decided to give it had sent a slight shiver down Arthur's spine.

  'The forefather.'

  Considering what had been attempted here and that he'd fought tooth and nail for this power to be inheritable, the title could be as fitting as it was ambiguous absent context.

  From his point of view, it was clear that he would indeed be shifting the future destiny of any progeny he might have. With all the gleaming sheen to the picture, which depicted marble pillars and fluffy clouds, a brilliant kaleidoscopic stars in the background, the whole affair did possess a semblance of a conceptual home to a pantheon when first gazing upon it.

  Objectively, he really wasn't sure exactly what to initially expect from the soul… Obviously, there wasn't any way he'd suddenly be some all-mighty entity resting amidst the clouds… And yet, all the stipulated powers were there.

  Control of thunder and lightning, shapeshifting, time and space, a promise that he would become a being defined not by logic but by magic… A deific existence in name and description that—probably wouldn't translate in practicality.

  His goal here had been to allow his children to have the best of all worlds. To allow them an inheritance from him that would indeed create something outside the boundaries of how things typically worked. Perhaps, if he had truly achieved his goal, Dia and his own future children together would be able to decide whichever form they so desired, no matter how they might initially turn out. In effect, making them magical beings right from the start…

  Coincidently, the card would theoretically solve a few of his own and more physical limitations as well. Which, of course, had him naturally worried after both its potency and exactly what expense he would be taking on…

  There was a curious—phenomenon about his person that he hadn't yet been able to explain.

  Strip away all the strange inventions and ideas. Take his ability to make soul cards and look past his alien ideas and accomplishments to date. Take everything that surrounded him until there was nothing left but a lone cooking tarot meant to enhance a simple endeavour inside the kitchen. Now, give him a hundred souls. Silver, gold, iron and bronze, it didn't matter.

  Were Arthur to pile each and every other tarot into his lone card, it would unquestionably improve. However, the young man had also discovered that were somebody to be standing next to him, the exact same scenario also transpiring. They would see their cooking card increased to a capability in excess of his own.

  Yes, Arthur had long since discerned that some cards were harder to improve than others. Yet, that wasn't what he'd been referring to. No, give him a base cooking card, and another person the same, then both of them the exact same tiers and ranks of voracious grazers up to a total of ten. And, strangely enough, Arthur wouldn't see his card reach the same heights as his nearby volunteer.

  It was a quandary that he hadn't put much thought into. Mostly because it didn't bother him but also because he hadn't even really noticed it until a bunch of small details had slowly crunched at the back of his mind.

  Again, take all the cooking cards he'd given out to the villagers. At first, Arthur had simply assumed that everyone laughing over how quickly they'd improved the things to be a simple discrepancy of expectation.

  Arthur assuming that they were just wise to the fact some cards were more temperamental! And that they themselves already had such souls and thus weren't at all surprised!

  Yet, in the recesses of his subconscious, he had continued to grind against the notion as a whole… And as more and more of his cards found their way to the hands of others after, of course, he'd tested them. A sort of noteworthy pattern had emerged to solidify his bizarre findings.

  Again, Arthur simply didn't understand the powers he was playing with. And though he felt to be seeking out little snippets of understanding as he went… A minor epiphany here, a humble eureka there… By in large, he was still out of his depth…

  All the same, he had spent many nights unable to really focus while his thoughts whirled after what exactly it could be that made him different. Why was it harder for him to improve his souls? Was it because his own was artificial? Created rather than natural? Was it because he came from another world? Was there a god that was simply fucking with him? Or did it all have a much more observable but not very forthcoming answer that existed under his nose all along…

  Ultimately, Arthur sighed. If there was to be an additional cost for all this that went beyond the card itself, then he would bear it. He'd do it for his wife. He'd do it for his daughter. And he'd do it for any future children he might help bring into this world. After all, what was the point of life if it was too easy?