The old warrior gazed down into the scrying pool, his golden eye strained as he scoured for something—someone—who remained hidden. A frown carved itself into his brow, his beard hiding his slanted downward mouth as displeasure filled him.
It only increased when a screen popped up in front of his eye, ruining his scrying.
[ Limit for Mythical-grade artifact { Mímisbrunnr } reached. ]
'This dismal timer... an hour is too little to produce the results I desire, though it is inevitable that an item so great and omniscient would be restricted...'
He sighed, rubbing his remaining eye soothingly as it ached from overuse. His desire to understand the world of this game which the System had proffered had so far been met with only greater loss than gains, and he found little joy in the exhausting job as a faction head.
Of course, studying the system that the System had created was fascinating, but such tediousness still rubbed his patience sorely.
'I can't even find my seer anymore...'
The image that had enchanted him that day stayed with him, a beautiful woman of pale blond hair and searching, knowing eyes staring back at him with her mischief apparent, a knowledge of the future which she withheld from him tantalizing, yet torturous.
The years had passed, and then he recalled the last he had seen her; though greatly aged, and now blind, she carried an elegant beauty that was carved into her very bones.
'"My apologies, my lord. I seem to have found someone I love more than even yourself—and I cannot bear for my sweet child to be subjected to the future you wish to establish."'
That was the last thing she said before overdosing on her medication, the causality out of his control, as with and without his descent, she would be unable to survive.
It vexed him to no end to witness the death of such a useful pawn, with whom he had fostered much affection and care towards.
"Ah, my Belle... if only you weren't such a sentimental fool..."
A scramble of footsteps alerted him of a human supervisors presence, with the man hovering near to whisper his report.
A smile finally greeted Odin's lips.
'So, this was how classes were determined... how delightful...'
With an aura befitting a king, he went to visit the human who had achieved a class, and the method to attain the class—an invaluable piece of information if he wished to strengthen his forces quickly.
He only paused a moment to wave the scrying tool into his personal vault—a place called an "Inventory" by the insufferable System god.
'It seems that my plans and vision will run smoothly, Belle. A shame you are no longer present to see it through the mind you once had...'
———
"Is that so?"
The man's voice was indifferent while he mixed a solution of pure mana with a poisonous-looking substance, his hair a mess and his already darker skin stained with soot. A cigarette was placed at his lips, and after taking in a puff, he used his divinity on the mana, turning the blue a gold color, and the assumed poison darkened before exploding in the man's face.
The informant—a newer one, by the looks of it—flinched back, but the older assistant merely waved the smoke away as a trail of cigarette smoke was released by the god. The bright blue eyes that were as swift moving as the river of their culture and as fathomless as the sky remained unperturbed at the 'failure'.
Well, that was the assumption of his assistant. It was hard to tell, considering her Patron's eyes were covered with work goggles that she insisted he wear.
"Scorpion lady's venom doesn't mix huh... would the jackal's saliva work better... maybe the cat's blood—no, tried that... Would a polar opposite work? Then, the snake... but how to convince... Hey, Pinky."
The assistant, dubbed 'Pinky' due to the permanent change brought about to her hair and skin by one of Thoth's earlier failures, stepped forward, her gaze disinterested at his name calling.
"Yes, sir."
"Can you get the serpent's scale—"
"And how in Osiris's name am I supposed to do that? Die and hope compensation is provided? Pray? Wag a toy in front of him to steal a scale?"
The god took off his goggles, the unwavering yet terribly unhinged eyes blank as he replied, "Those are all a possibility. I'd have to find another Pinky for all of them, but it's still doable."
The woman rolled her eyes, grabbing her Patron's glasses before shoving them on his face. All at once, the world became not only clearer, but riddled with various hieroglyphics denoting the structures of various beings and materials.
"Thanks."
She snatched the cigarette from his lips, unwrapping and shoving a lollipop in his mouth before turning him around to face his chemistry equipment.
"You ought to stop that horrid habit of yours."
"Which one."
"The name deletion and smoking."
"But one's entertaining and the other is essential for keeping vital memory and brain functional for important things—"
"Shut up and work. I'll figure out a way to get your requested materials."
The informant awkwardly stood behind them, his dark, almost feline eyes confused at the pair's dynamic as he fixed his fluffy teal hair—the explosion had messed with the styling, and it was annoying to discover soot within his hair.
'Another bath, then.'
"So, the old Jackal's still with those people, huh? Has he made any sign of whether they are an enemy or ally?"
He straightened at the assistant's questioning, and replied with a prompt, "He seems to like them, but it appears he wishes to study them longer, due to a certain soul being interesting for him. Should I inform his Priestess of his location? The Conference of Relations will be gathering soon..."
The three people went silent, and save for the fluid motions and tinkling's of equipment and mixtures, there was no movement.
Thoth suddenly paused, his eyes gleaming as he stared at the young Priest of the cat.
"Tell her, and then report to your Patron your findings—she'll tell the old lune. Then, follow the group to send reliable updates; the beard guy will be stalking him via his eye, but it would be best to have an in person account to analyze in-depth information. I'll need scryers to keep a tab on the wise one's—I don't trust them."
The young man bowed before a glow covered his body, and a teal colored cat with fluffy and styled, but singed hair appeared before running off, disappearing into the statue of a cat.
The god resumed work before mumbling, "What was your name again?"
A small smile came onto her face, a helpless expression in response to her Patron's hopelessness with names.
"I'm Fuchsia, remember?"
"...I'm not gonna remember that."
"I know."
The problem was, what he was asking for was not her alias, but her real name; the name she was given before birth, the one carved into her soul that determined her to be his Priestess and assistant.
Her true name.
As she left to surmount yet another impossible task for his needs, he sighed, halting his experiment while rolling the sweet in his mouth thoughtfully, insufferably curious about the person who was meant to be closest to him.
"What a troublesome assistant I have."
Comparable to even himself.
Another day, another chapter, and another conflict. Sometimes I wonder what this story will end up as, and whether I'll see the end of it.
I hope so.