Aclysia’s early classes passed by the usual way. She spent the Cooking lesson on creating tasty treats, as she did not want to fill her stomach that morning. After that came a class in which she barely listened. Her thoughts circled around what she would say to her father.

During lunch, when she would have normally made the effort to head out into the city to see Karitas and Esther during their shift in the Café Served, she walked towards the heart of the campus.

The elevator that her Karitas had needed to use, Aclysia ignored. There was a staircase, tucked away behind a locked, heavy door, that she had the key to. Automatically, the mechanism snapped back close behind her, making sure no one without the proper access could enter the Taurus’ family home without permission.

As per usual, the enormous complex that her parents and their Anomalia occupied was filled with distant noises. At least one of her honoured Anolias was always working on a task. They kept themselves busy, throughout their long lives.

The gothic halls were filled with the smell of home. Aclysia smiled softly at the mixture of cleaning agents, peppermint and wooden furniture. 

“I take it your home still finds your approval?” Gregory asked. The head butler of the household awaited her in the usual spot, right next to an indoor fountain. It was an enormous thing, constantly bubbling with fresh water that streamed down in decorative waterfalls. His long dark hair handsomely framed his long face. “You arrive on time.”

“I aim to cause no inconvenience,” Aclysia stated and they respectfully bowed towards one another. The half-devil’s tail curved mischievously behind his back. “Is everything in order?” the maidly woman asked, as she followed Gregory down a path she knew all too well.

“Your father has been recently displeased by the overreach of a minor god aiming to encroach on the surrounding void, expect this to come up at the table,” Gregory reported. With a smirk unbefitting of a loyal butler, he added, “Of course, you will be the talk of the day, milady. You and your chosen King’s progress – or lack thereof.” Aclysia pressed her lips together and stared grimly ahead. Gregory giggled. “I see it was wise of me to recommend soup for today.”

Aclysia did not understand how that factored into anything else he said. Eventually, the butler pushed open the ancient wooden doors that led to the Taurus’ family dinner table. In other estates, so Aclysia had heard and recently experienced, what she categorized as a regular dining room was more akin to a banquet hall. To know one lived wealthily and to see it was the difference between trying to be humble and being humbled.

The enormous table was easily capable of holding 50 people. A necessity, when the family unit began at 10, before children were even considered. Her father, in all of his impressive bulk, sat at the point of the oval table, casually holding his Ashod and reading something, while bouncing a comparatively tiny three-year-old on his thigh.

Taurus had a content smile on his face, just sitting there, while his Queen presented spoons of easily digested food to the kid. Derilea was doing her work diligently, albeit Aclysia recognized the slight curve to her lips as the carefree happiness her mother only seldomly got to enjoy. The mother of the child, Velma, the 6 of the Anomalia, stood behind the Anomalia’s King and played with his horns, while the father and the anolia of the child cared for it.

Children were a constant presence in the household, although not as many of them as one may expect. When asked about it, her mother had told Aclysia that there was a precarious balance to having several pregnant women and newborn simultaneously under the same roof. The screams, the stress, the mood swings, they were not conducive to a stable home life. After long years of trying to reach a working solution, they had abandoned the approach of being pregnant when they individually desired. Instead, there was a balance, a steady discussion of who desired another child next. They all cared together for the little ones. Aclysia knew it no other way.

That approach meant that Aclysia was the current third youngest in the family. There was the little Manar currently getting cared for and a sister four years her junior, currently attending a school in another world. Aclysia herself had been sent off-world as well for her middle education. The Anomalia deemed it necessary for the children to gain life experience.

Beyond the group of three at the head of the dark oak table, the dinner room’s many purple-cushioned chairs were filled with the entirety of her father’s Anomalia. Left of her King was Merliona, her pale skin shining as gold as the buildings she had designed. Even with the white wings hidden and halo hidden, her angelic radiance surrounded her, particularly the blonde head. The Jack of the Anomalia was keeping herself busy reading up on her latest obsession – fishing, apparently.

One seat down was the 8 of the Anomalia, a curvaceous woman of deep blue skin, covered only in semi-liquid latex. Her light grey hair was short. Two jagged horns extended from her temples, curving backwards, as the horns of the female species of the universe tended to do. Valia gave Aclysia a cheerful wave, as she approached.

Opposite of the Nightstalker demon was the chilling presence of Aurora. The 7 of the harem had pale skin and blue hair. She was one of two in the room that wore an oriental garb – a kimono to be exact. The white dress was covered in the patterns of snow crystals. The ice woman gave Aclysia a courtly bow of the head, then turned her gaze back to the child in the room. Her pale blue eyes had a warmth inside them that belied her nature.

The 5 of the Anomalia, Anna, was almost too big for her chair. Like Aclysia’s father, she was a minotaur, which put her head and shoulders above everyone else besides her King. She wore practical clothes that were one thick overall away from making her fit for the forge. Her toned arms were on full display. Her tiny horns pointed upwards, her brown hair was confined in a high ponytail. Even if she appeared like she could bend steel rods with her bare hands, she was still beautiful. She was also too distracted with a small toy in her hands to note Aclysia’s arrival.

That was until Sybille, 4 and Ace of the Anomalia, spoke up, “There you are, Sia,” greeted the seamstress. The tall and mildly muscular lady grinned broadly at the maid and got up. In the typical manner, the blue-eyed human placed kisses swiftly on Aclysia’s cheeks. Then she took a step back and looked at her. “Maybe I should get you something more to wear…”

“The offer is appreciated, but it would be unbecoming of my task to prove myself,” Aclysia reminded her.

Sybille sighed and shook her head. “Always so serious, your mother and her children,” she said and then smirked again.

“Maybe you’re not serious enough?” suggested the blonde, fox-eared woman who sat just a few metres away. Tomoe was the smallest of the Anomalia, standing at a mere 1,60 metres. Her figure was slender and alluring, with medium-sized breasts and thighs that were on almost full display beyond the exceedingly short skirt of her own kimono. Her nine tails were currently fused into one, for ease of sitting. She was the 3 of the Anomalia.

“Not sure if I can take that from you, you little trickster,” Sybille responded immediately. “How many pockets did you want for your next dress again?”

“All of them,” Tomoe responded and licked her lips, green eyes reflecting schemes that were as inconsequential as they were brilliant.

Opposite of the conversation, a woman with nearly black, blueish skin sighed. Zemerina ran a hand through her silky, white hair. The drow, 2 and therefore weakest of the Anomalia, wore her hair much in the same fashion as Derilea did, albeit that was where the likeness stopped. Zemerina had longer, pointier ears than the half elf or any of her children. Her eyes were the silver of spider thread and her lips were as black as the night. Busty and with long, slender legs, she was a different kind of looker. Her arms were crossed. “If you rearrange my records again, Tomoe, I’ll be mad.”

“Like you don’t appreciate an afternoon of sorting your records for the fiftieth time this year,” the fox-eared woman joked.

Aclysia let the conversation continue. Her family was as it always was: lively. Some of her anolias she got along with splendidly, others she felt like she barely knew, but they were all her family. One after the other, she greeted all of them, whether that was verbally or not. For a little bit, she played with her youngest sibling. Some people she had talked to expressed that they found it weird that Aclysia had a brother 18 years her junior. As one who had full-blooded sisters 200 years her senior, the half elf did not share such thoughts. This was the only family she had ever known.

The laughter around the table let her know it was a good one.

“Everyone is here,” Taurus said and handed his son over to the child’s mother. Velma carried him back to her seat, where a smaller, higher chair had been placed to allow them to sit together. Aclysia was afforded a place next to her mother.

That placement alone made her nervous. Typically, the Anomalia seated itself in the ranking of the power, with the older children sitting away from their mothers. To be placed among the Anomalia was either a sign of concern or disapproval. In either case, it was an awkward position to be in.

Aclysia surrendered to the position and awaited the inevitable. Her father made eye contact with Gregory and the butler hurried off into a side room. “What did you prepare today?” Aurustius asked his Queen. Even though Gregory was the head butler, Derilea was still the lead cook in the household. Her obligations were many and cleaning was simply not in her time budget, but her mother refused to let go of this aspect of her duties.

“On… recommendation of Gregory, I went with a soup,” Aclysia’s mother responded with an annoyed undertone.

“No knives, I see,” Merliona remarked passively and closed the book with a loud thud, placing it on the ample space of the table. “Soup is a good choice.”

‘Why is there such a fixation on the meal today?’ Aclysia wondered, but stayed silent while Gregory and two additional butlers brought in the lunch. Quietly she sorted her thoughts. All the things she wanted to say to her father had been swept away by the moment. They slowly trickled back in, while the meal began and conversation around them took a casual tone.

“What will our response to Malodictus be?” Merliona asked, between perfectionist movements. The angel refused to sit in any way other than perfectly straight, moving the spoon up and down, without letting a single drop pearl off her utensil.

“Annihilate him,” Derilea responded immediately, her voice as sharp as a freshly whet dagger. “How dare he provide such a headache for Master?”

“What did he do?” Aclysia investigated. “I have been informed he’s a minor god who has been invading the surrounding void.”

“An apt summary, daughter, and an outright violation of the agreements that keep the Cosmic Universities safe from the meddling of creatures our students are not ready for,” Derilea responded. “To destroy this annoyance completely will send the necessary message.”

“An overreaction,” Arustius responded in his rumbling voice. “He’s a young god, not wise to the way the universe works yet. Follow the diplomatic path.”

Derilea took two breaths to get her rage under control. “Fine,” she said, releasing her remaining distaste through that one word. “Merliona, can I continue to lean on you in this endeavour?”

“I am the most suited for it,” the angel responded in her usual calm demeanour.

“Besides, you might end up annihilating him after all, if he says the wrong thing,” Valia, the demon, added in an amused tone.

Derilea did not honour that with a response. Everyone knew there was a risk of this. Aclysia had never seen a more dangerous or beautiful woman than her mother. Someone that badmouthed her father was someone in danger. Such affronts to her Master could not be abided and as the 10 and Queen of the Anomalia, she had the power to obliterate most obstacles. 

Aclysia fully agreed to her mother’s approach, which gave her the surge of urgency to address the topic weighing most heavily on her mind.

“Father, you made my Karitas bleed.” The hissed words caused the chatter around the table to stop and be replaced with silence. Aclysia caught an amused undercurrent, especially in the way her anolias exchanged glances and gave her mother barely suppressed smirks. The anger inside her was whipped up further and she clenched the spoon in her hand, wondering how well it would serve as a throwing weapon.

“I did,” her father responded sternly.

Before Aclysia knew it, she had rammed the head of the spoon into the tabletop. The metal bent, leaving the wood with only a mild scratch. It joined the hundreds others that the long usage had caused. “Why do you take it upon yourself to hurt my darling?” the half elf demanded to know. “Why impose your ridiculous test?!”

“Aclysia, you will address your father with respect!” Derilea responded in the exact same, maidly infuriated tone.

“Alright, alright, settle down,” Sybille raised her voice immediately. “Deri, be quiet for a moment, you know how this ends otherwise.”

On recommendation of the Anomalia’s Ace, the Queen pressed her lips together until the last bit of pink had been drained from them. Aclysia forcefully relaxed her jaw when she realized she had been grinding her teeth. Her eyes were focused entirely on her father, until Sybille entered her field of vision.

The human woman fished the bend spoon from Aclysia’s hand and put it out of the reach of the maid. “It is admirable that you and your sisters get this protective of your chosen Masters,” the seamstress said softly. “Truth be told, you all come after your mother to a scary degree when it comes to these things.”

“They learn by example,” Tomoe weighed in. “What other choice do they have?”

Velma laughed, while whipping some soup off her child’s face. “Did all of your kids turn out tricksters?”

“Fair point,” the nine-tailed fox woman surrendered.

“Cease your distractions, anolias,” Aclysia hissed, fingers drumming on the tabletop. “I have not been provided a response as to why an inconvenience of my Master is either justified or required. My choice has been made, his choice has been made, what right do you have to interfere?”

“The right of the family,” Sybille responded plainly. “You got it wrong. Arustius has not placed an absolute condition on you joining Karitas’ Anomalia.”