Read and wander around the house. That’s my life now.

This, plus a few more video games, might have been Ethel’s dream life a few short years ago. But she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t developed aspirations.

Nightfall Castle had given her ample time and space to roam for almost a month now. The place was surprisingly huge and, even now, partly unexplored. What lay in the rainforest depths of the greenhouse? How to get to the furnace? Ethel reached whatever corners she could whenever she was both truly bored and tired of straining her eyes at A History of Lillifalian Metaphysics.

It wasn’t that she wanted to get outside—the greenhouse was a decent simulation of daylight and fresh oxygen. It was just that she needed to be truly active—to have an excuse to be active.

If she didn’t get out and start fighting fast, all her mental blocks would just endure...all the questions now floating around in her brainspace would do nothing but keep announcing themselves.

What exactly is a soul gem?

What are the third ways?

What is your ideal future, and how can you get there?

And another one, the one that seemed most important: How can you make Nyx happy?

If anything seemed clear to Ethel, it was that Nyx would never find peace.

For five days now, after the strange mess at the auction, Ethel had been serving Nyx breakfast in bed, then watching as their zombie-like form poked and pecked at the meals for hours. Nyx had barely spoken since that day, not from trauma or even from bone-deep exhaustion, but because of some mental toll. If Ethel had to guess, it was the depressive flipside of those pills.

Meanwhile, the demon servants barely interacted with them. For one, the kindest servant of the lot, Dodd, remained frozen, thawing ever so slowly. Apparently the rest were larding the castle walls with hex upon hex—whatever Agi could carry in from his travels. It gave the impression that Nyx was an elder on their deathbed, attended by nobody but the most faithful.

All along in this castle, Ethel had felt an obligation not only to serve them, but to please them. The former was natural, the latter a strange bend in their friendship. They still had nights, here and there, of fooling around with each other, eating sloppy food by the fireplace, curling up in blankets, and, with excessive shyness, rubbing each other spasmodically with the edges of their feet.

But Ethel knew she was the “lesser being” in the room.

Once upon a time, Nyx and Ethel had been each others’ sole comrades. (There was also Spencer, at some point in Arkadia, a well-meaning third weel.) Now Nyx had a whole other world to watch—and even a new third wheel!

Many, many times as a small-town deputy and eccentric inventor, Ethel had told herself that she didn’t need any loved ones to keep her own integrity. Others could come and go, but she would be the rock.

Now, though, it was beyond obvious that she was adrift, and the rock...

***

On the sixth day, Ethel, carrying a tray table of crispy pancakes, an omelette, rat tears (what’s with Nyx and rat torment?), and a slender vase of flowers, opened the door to Nyx’s room and found nobody there.

Though rattled at first—feeling as if she’d seen a ghost—common sense got the better of her and led her away. She closed the door.

Thirty minutes later, Ethel finally found them. She caught them in the act of sharpening the Hellrazor against a whirling wheel, scattering sparks across their goggles. This tiny room was a kind of work shed, although the walls of tools were as limited as if the place had been ransacked. The only light came from the sparks and a single hanging lamp, which, being fire and not electric, was a definite hazard. (Ethel made a note to self: replace castle lighting with safer, more efficient lightbulbs.)

“Nyx?”

The demon lord brought their sharpening wheel to a halt, though not in a hurry. They lifted the goggles from their face, but didn’t turn.

“I’m just here to bring you food. If you’re hungry... I’m so glad you’re feeling better.”

“...Yeah,” said Nyx. Their voice came slow. Ethel didn’t know if she should read that as a recovering voice, an antisocial voice, or both. But she was curious enough to push.

She came closer and set the tray down by Nyx’s feet. The Hellrazor, which was almost as long as this room, sat on the wheel’s edge, balanced by Nyx’s arm. Its ridges felt deadly close to Ethel now.

“If you’re feeling better now,” she said, “and if it’s okay with you...can we talk?”

“Will it be you asking questions,” said Nyx, their voice level, “or an actual conversation?”

“I hope it can be both.”

“Alright, then.” Nyx pulled the sword off the wheel and tossed it against the wall behind themself. They turned to Ethel and gestured to another stool -- Ethel pulled it over. Nyx said, “Talking. What about?”

Ethel hadn’t felt intimidated by Nyx since the night they reconnected in Hanalagula. Spending any amount of time with them reawakened the old familiarity, reminded her that Nyx was just another regular kid from Earth. No amount of shapeshifting, demon business, or mystery seemed able to change that. It was only when they’d drifted apart...

Talking to them now, Ethel didn’t even feel like she was conversing with her boss. She had the implacable feeling of talking to a behemoth, condensed in human form.

If Ethel felt unnerved, it didn’t show on her face, which only twitched in all the usual ways.

“Is it time to leave the underworld?” said Ethel.

“Yes,” said Nyx without hesitation.

Half a minute of silence passed.

Ethel lifted a bewildered hand to her forehead saying, “Wow... I was beginning to think that all the questions in my mind were unsolvable, but...I feel relieved already. That was just what I needed. Thank you.”

“I am...glad to hear that?” said Nyx.