Illius could only imagine how sore he’d be tomorrow as the three shuffled back into the little, carved-out house. He felt it in his shoulders the most, but even the spark inside of him seemed subdued. Hireth had him pulling it, out only to push it back down. She’d made him adjust its brightness until his spark barely whispered out its light. It was easier than he’d thought, but he hadn’t quite adjusted to the strain.

Hireth spoke once she had secured the door behind them. “Well, I promised you dinner and a story, so what do you want?”

“Ham sandwich,” Eric requested.

“Are you serious?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Illius? What about you?”

“I’ll take a bean sandwich.” His eyes twinkled as he glanced over at Eric.

“That’s not a thing,” she groaned.

“Clearly it is,” Eric said, planting his hands on his hips. “Maybe it just comes from the more refined parts of life. I bet all the aristocrats eat bean sandwiches.”

“I’m really sure they don’t.” She opened the icebox.

“How would you know?”

She muttered under her breath as she pulled the food out. “Get cleaned up; I’ll make dinner.”

“Okay.” Eric subtly grabbed Illius’ hand and led him toward the back of the house.

Illius felt his heart speed up as they reached the bedroom, and Eric closed the door.

“Bean sandwich, huh?” Eric smirked at him, getting closer and closer.

“Yeah, someone made me one once, and…” I fell in love with him.

“And what?”

“It was good.” Illius took a deep breath, his finger brushing against Eric’s shirt as he stared wide-eyed.

“May I?” Eric asked, brushing his thumb over Illius’ lips.

Illius swallowed thickly and nodded. Eric surprised him, slowly moving closer, touching their noses together. Then, Illius reached up for Eric’s lips and received a gentle kiss, and then another, and another. Odd—he’d expected Eric to move bold and brashly, like he did for just about everything. This was soft, though. Curious and tender. It felt—it felt like Illius mattered.

“You okay?” Eric pulled away.

“Um…” He shuddered, not even sure how to explain, but he couldn’t break down here.

“Did I do something wrong?” Panic laced Eric’s words.

“No.” He shook his head. “No, I just… it’s just nice.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” He bit his lip. “I don’t—I never—I’ve always been alone. I thought I’d always be alone.”

“You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

“I know.” He nuzzled into the palm of Eric’s hand. “It’s… weird.”

“Good, I hope?”

He nodded.

“Alright, here’s the plan.” Eric gently touched where Illius’ shoulder and neck met. “We kiss for five minutes; we clean ourselves up for five minutes. Hireth never suspects a thing.”

“I like it.” He blushed. “One caveat—we clean up first.”

“Fair.”

~

“Looks delicious.” Eric sat down at the table.

“It’s not the normal ham,” Hireth cautioned. She handed Illius a plate with a sandwich on it, and she took her own and sat in between them.

“This is really a bean sandwich?” He examined the filling.

“Yes.” She rolled her eyes. “A proper bean sandwich.”

“Mine was proper,” Eric retorted.

The witch just stared down her nose at him.

“Sooo, Auntie,” Eric started. “Although, I probably can’t call you that anymore, can I?”

“It hasn’t stopped you yet.”

“True.” He lifted up his sandwich. “So, who are you?”

“Well, I’m not really your aunt,” Hireth stated, looking closely at Eric’s face.

Eric nodded. “I didn’t think the Witch of Dotric would somehow marry my broke-ass uncle. I guess… that’s why you never wanted me to call you ‘Auntie?’”

“No!” she exclaimed, “I never let you call me ‘Auntie’ because it makes me feel old!”

“You are old.” Eric smirked. “The Witch of Dotric must be like eighty-two or something, right?”

Hireth groaned. “For the record, I’m twenty-eight, not eighty-two—even though I look older than I am. War... kinda ages a person.”

“Why are you here?” Eric asked. “This is Patria. Why aren’t you in Noviad?”

Hireth’s face fell. “I… had a disagreement with Enix.”

“Who’s Enix?”

“The Demon Lord. His name is Enixiel, but we call him Enix.”

“Ah. I should have put that together before,” Eric said. “That makes a lot of sense. Must have been some fight to convince you to leave Noviad for the patriarchal pile of shit that is Patria?”

She nodded but didn’t give an explanation.

Eric looked at her, and for an instant, Illius saw the confusion and pain he usually hid. “Why me, Hireth? I’ve thought about it every which way and I can’t for the life of me figure out why you picked me.”

“Why not?” She shrugged.

“You… You didn’t even know me. Why bail me out of jail?”

“Wait what?” Illius’ head snapped up.

“Oh, yeah.” Eric smirked. “She bailed me out of jail. That’s how we met.”

“Why were you in jail?”

“Uh… may have painted a giant penis on a priest’s house?”

“Sweet Aion!” Illius buried his face in his hands. Already, his face was heating up from secondhand embarrassment. “Why would you do that?”

“Honestly, I don’t remember,” Eric said, “but it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“I thought it was hilarious, but that wasn’t the first time we met,” Hireth told them.

“It wasn’t?” Eric cocked his head.

“No,” she said softly. “I knew you from one of the underground gatherings I ran for…” she glanced briefly at Illius and then back at Eric. “… troubled teens.”

“I love that your replacement for ‘gay’ is ‘troubled.’” Eric raised an eyebrow at her.

“Look!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t want to out you if Illius didn’t know yet.”

“Clearly he does.”

Very clearly.

Eric continued, “The better question is why you were involved in those meetings?”

She bit her lip. “Um… I give no shits what bits and bobs a person has, and I’m attracted to just about everybody. At the same time, I detest humanity.”

Eric pinched the bridge of his nose, “Allfather, you’re such a mess sometimes. That does explain a lot, though.”

“Right?” she exclaimed.

“Yep.”

“So, I knew you from there, and when your brother got taken and you got thrown in jail… I had to do something. I just told them I was your aunt and yelled at the enforcers a bunch, and they let you go.”

“So, let me get this straight. Hehe—straight.” Eric giggled and Hireth joined in.

“Gah, we’re awful,” Hireth laughed. “It’s terrifying that Illius is somehow the most normal of us.”

Uhhhhh, I guess I am probably, most definitely gay too? And I’m the only one with literal horns on their head.

Eric laughed. “Duh. Illius has always been the most normal, but he is friends with us, so… Can’t be that normal. Anyway, can I call you Auntie, now?”

“No!” she exclaimed, “Besides, it’s even weirder now.”

“Why?” he asked. “You never claimed to be actually related to me by blood.”

“I lied,” she said. “I’m so sorry. I never really intended… for any of this to happen. I just wanted to help you, and I understand if you felt betrayed or frustrated or…”

“Hireth… that’s not even your real name, is it?”

“It’s the name I chose,” she said. “It’s… who I want to be.”

Eric thought for a moment. “That still doesn’t tell me who you are, though. Obviously, the Witch of Dotric, but what does that even mean? There are hundreds of stories about her, but none of them really sound like you. Kaz… mentioned your magic was implanted? How does all of this fit together?”

She nodded, taking a sip of her water. “Yeah, it’s probably best to start at the beginning.”