David

  I lay on my back, looking up at the ceiling in the dimly lit cabin. The soft vibration of the airship’s engines was the only sound in the room, steady, constant, and almost calming. Even Allira’s breathing was too quiet to hear beneath it.

  Almost twenty-four weeks. That’s how long it’s been since I woke up in this world, Aerendor. One moment, I was a seventy-five-year-old professor heading into retirement; the next, I was twenty again, lying in a field with moss in my hair and a goblin charging at me with a knife. A goblin. Like something out of an old fantasy novel.

  I probably would have died that morning if Seraphina hadn’t found me. My first wife. Her smile still melts me every time she gives it to me.

  Now… now we’re on the airship, heading back from Eldros to Vaelthorn, and somehow I’ve accumulated more problems, responsibilities, and wives than I ever imagined possible. And sleep? It’s nowhere to be found.

  “Why aren’t you asleep?” Allira’s voice broke the silence, warm and soft in the dark.

  I felt her before I saw her, the heat of her body beneath the sheets, her arm draped across my chest, one leg tangled with mine. My Allira. My general. My second wife. Strong, sharp, deadly with a sword… and impossibly gentle when it was just the two of us.

  “I don’t know. Too much on my mind,” I murmured. “Maybe too much tea before bed.”

  Her hand slid across my cheek, warm and reassuring. I lifted my own to cover it as she shifted, climbing over me, lowering herself until her lips met mine. The kiss was slow and deep, her breath warm, her presence grounding. I wrapped my arm around her waist and held her close.

  When she finally pulled back just a bit, I let my hand drift along her back to her thigh and then up again. Her skin was warm beneath my fingers, smooth and soft. Allira smiled at me through the dim light, amused and knowing.

  “What am I going to do with you?” I muttered, taking in the curve of her body above me.

  “I can think of several things,” she whispered, her fingers brushing lower. “One of them comes to mind immediately.”

  “You’re trouble,” I said, right before she kissed me again, slow and sure, her smile pressed against my lips.

  “Your trouble,” she corrected. My bad, bad sweetheart.

  I opened my eyes again, not sure how long I’d been asleep. For a moment, I just lay there, listening. The only sound was the steady hum of the airship’s engines, my airship, the Enterprise. Yes, that Enterprise. Star Trek might not be high literature, but I’ve always liked the name. And James T. Kirk? A legend. I have an ongoing debate with some deities about Kirk and Picard. I know I will win, but that’s for later.

  The bed next to me was empty. Allira probably slipped out at some point. I swung my legs over the side and sat there, letting my mind catch up with my body. The room was silent. Too silent, considering my recent life.

  The door opened softly, and Allira stepped inside.

  “You’re awake,” she said, moving to sit beside me.

  “How long was I out?” I asked, rubbing my face.

  “Almost lunchtime. You needed the rest.” She tilted her head. “What do you want to do today?”

  “I don’t know. Read, maybe. I’d like to take another look at Veronica’s markings…” I paused, thinking. “Honestly, I’m not sure.”

  She smiled and stood. “Well, you’re mine today. First things first: get dressed. I’ll bring you to the lounge for lunch.”

  My wives made a schedule without consulting me, assigning one of them to stay with me each day to ensure I ate, slept, stayed sane, and didn’t accidentally create something world-ending. Yesterday was Seraphina’s day. Today is Allira’s. They mean well. Mostly.

  That’s the problem with Engineers. Legendary class, and dangerous… and apparently incapable of behaving unsupervised. And yes, I’m one of them. Actually, I’m the only one. Lucky me.

  It didn’t take long before I was dressed and following Allira out to the lounge. On the way, I noticed she was barefoot, wearing only a light robe as she walked ahead of me. Allira usually dressed with strict military precision, so the sight was… distracting. She really does have great legs.

  In the lounge, I sat and watched the landscape blur past the windows. The engines had a different tone today, sharper, higher, a little hungrier. We were definitely moving faster than we had on the way to Eldros. No idea why. Maybe Allyson tuned something while I was unconscious. Again.

  A maid brought me tea, and I thanked her. She dipped into a curtsy, another subtle shift I didn’t quite understand. Had things changed while I was asleep? Hard to say. The maids were constructs, but unless you got close enough to notice the perfectly even breaths and the faint glow in the eyes, they were indistinguishable from people. Sometimes too indistinguishable.

  Ava and Allyson arrived moments later and took their usual places beside me, my silent left and right flanks. They were constructs, too, but they were so much more than that. Allyson was the voice of Tower Six, my anchor to the awakening engineer network. There were supposed to be eight towers in total, and so far I’d only found two. Six more still slept somewhere in the world.

  Ava was from the vaults, ancient, delicate, and frighteningly capable. Melissa, the voice of Tower One, remained in Eldros, maintaining everything I’d somehow become responsible for. Only the gods knew how this had become my life.

  “Master, you look well rested,” Ava said, offering me the shielding manual I’d forgotten on the bridge.

  “Thank you,” I said, setting it on the table. “I forgot all about this.”

  Allira arrived a heartbeat later, still wrapped in her robe, and sat beside me. Even half asleep, she carried that soldier’s grace—controlled, precise, softened by the warmth she only showed behind closed doors.

  I reached to brush her robe aside, but she caught my hand, stopping me. When I looked up, she was already watching me with that slow, knowing smile.

  “That’s for later,” she said, a devilish glint in her eyes. She released my hand and leaned in just enough to let the promise linger. She knew exactly what she was doing. And she knew exactly what it did to me.

  Veronica slipped into the lounge sometime after lunch, quiet enough that I didn’t notice her until she was nearly beside us. Her footsteps were always soft, half habit, half instinct from a childhood spent trying not to be noticed. She paused just inside the doorway, hands folded in front of her, eyes flicking between Allira and me.

  My sixth wife. My sweet fire mage, who used to pose as a maid just to avoid drawing attention while protecting Princess Theresa. I met her on the road north to the Vaults, and from the moment I saw her, something pulled at me, some small detail my mind kept looping back to. She let me look, let me figure out why she caught my eye… and then the gods themselves stepped in. The next thing either of us knew, a divine bureaucratic stamp declared us married.

  To this day, my family calls moments like that “engineering magic.” Something I do that shouldn’t be possible, either by magic or logic. In a world where spells and miracles are everyday reality, apparently, I’m the one doing things that don’t make sense.

  She is a dedicated officer, but when she’s out of her uniform, she retreats into herself. She is slowly breaking free; just yesterday, she brought me tea while wearing only a maid’s uniform. No undergarments to be found. Oh, what a perfect sight to behold, and that devilish smile.

  Allira noticed Veronica before I did. She shifted, stood, and made space on the low table in front of me, giving Veronica a reassuring nod. Veronica approached, drawing her robe closer across her front, her movements small and delicate, a habit, not lack of courage.

  “David,” she murmured, her voice no louder than the hum of the engines, “you… wanted to see my class markings now?”

  That tone, soft, nervous, hopeful, pulled me forward instantly. I set aside my tea and gave her my full attention.

  “Only if you’re ready, Veronica,” I said gently.

  Her fingers tightened on the robe’s edge. She nodded once, slow but sure, and stepped closer.

  She positioned herself at the table right in front of me, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from her, close enough that I could hear her tiny, shaky breaths as she tried to steady them. After one long inhale, she loosened her grip on the robe and parted it slightly to reveal the center of her chest.

  Her fire-mage core glowed beneath her skin, a soft ember-red swirl that brightened with each beat of her heart. It was always beautiful, but today it pulsed brighter, responding to nerves she couldn’t quite hide.

  Bit by bit, she slipped the robe off her shoulders. It slid down her arms and pooled around her waist in a whisper of fabric, and then I realized she wasn’t entirely bare. A pair of black panties contrasted sharply with her pale skin, elegant enough to look almost ceremonial.

  I blinked. “Aria?”

  Veronica flushed instantly, the color rising all the way to her ears. “Yes…” she mumbled.

  Aria. Of course. My fourth wife, royal high earth mage, warm-hearted troublemaker, and the walking embodiment of Marilyn Monroe, thanks to one very questionable burst of engineering magic. Sweet, stunning, and absolutely meddlesome when it came to lingerie.

  “What do you think?” Veronica murmured, eyes downturned. “She said you would… love them.”

  I scooted a little closer, keeping my movements slow so she wouldn’t startle. “I think,” I said gently, “that you’re beautiful, Veronica.”

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  She exhaled, some of the tension draining from her shoulders, and gave me a small, shy smile that made my chest tighten.

  I reached into storage, pulled out my sketchbook and a pencil, and flipped to a clean page. The two guards, Rebecca Davies and Lydia Woods, both stiffened a little at the sight. People tended to react that way whenever I accessed the extra-dimensional space. Ancient engineers once used it casually, but after centuries of their absence, even the idea of it had drifted into myth. Now that I had it, everyone treated it like a miracle they weren’t sure they should be witnessing.

  Rebecca and Lydia kept glancing over as they stood at ease near the lounge entrance. They were the two who’d survived, not just passed, the grueling selection process to become Princess Theresa’s personal guards. Living proof that the polite version of the story was only half true.

  “Just relax, sweetie,” I murmured to Veronica, setting my book on my knee. “You’ve seen me do this before.”

  I reached out and placed my fingers gently on her skin, right above the soft glow of her fire-mage core. At my touch, the blue sigils along my arms flared to life, swirling patterns of light pulsing beneath my skin like awakened circuits. Slowly, I traced the glowing red lines that radiated from her core between her breasts and swept over her collarbones, spiraled down her torso, and followed the path of her mana gates along her arms and legs.

  My other hand moved steadily across the paper, sketching what I saw and felt. The first time my glyphs awakened like this was when I touched Allira’s markings. She wasn’t a full mage, just a magic swordsman with a fire attribute, but even then, my sigils reacted. Veronica was different. She was a full fire mage, like Aria with earth and Marlena with water. And yet, unlike any of them.

  I leaned in closer, examining the intricate spirals. Hidden within the curves were shapes that were not just mage-script, words, in coiling fragments, like ancient calligraphy smoldering beneath her skin. None of the others had markings like these. As I transcribed the script into my sketchbook, the air shifted. A subtle warmth at first. Then more. And more.

  The temperature around us rose rapidly. Veronica’s skin grew hot under my fingers, hot enough that even Allira straightened beside me in concern. Beads of sweat formed at Veronica’s temples as she clenched her teeth, trying not to pull away while I traced the lines along her abdomen.

  “Easy, sweetheart,” I whispered. The heat kept building.

  I set my sketchbook aside immediately and reached out, pulling Veronica gently into my lap. She folded into me without hesitation, arms slipping around my neck as if she’d been holding herself together for too long.

  Her whole body shook. Then, finally, she broke, her breath hitching as she began to cry.

  The heat didn’t bother me. Years in a forge had baked fire resistance into my bones long before I woke up in this world. So I just held her, feeling the burning warmth of her skin and the hot tears soaking into my shirt.

  Rebecca and Lydia tensed, unsure whether to intervene.

  Allira and Ava stayed close, watchful.

  But Veronica just wept quietly against me, and I wrapped my arms around her.

  I slid my sketchbook and the shielding treatise back into storage and tightened my arms around Veronica. She clung to me with both hands, trembling, heat still rolling off her skin in waves. When I stood, she stood with me, because she refused to let go.

  I carried her down the short hall to the stateroom I’d used the night before. She was still crying softly, face buried against my chest. When I tried to lower her to the bed, her fingers curled into my shirt with desperate strength.

  “Please… don’t go,” she whispered, voice raw.

  I paused, glancing over my shoulder. Allira had followed us inside and gently closed the door behind her. Her robe was gone; she still wore the deep red lingerie, confidence wrapped around her like armor. She met my eyes with a calm nod.

  “Are you sure?” I asked her quietly. I didn’t want to make assumptions, not with Veronica in this state.

  Allira stepped closer and put her hand on Veronica’s shoulder. “She needs both of us,” she said. “We stay.”

  I reached out to her with my free hand, drawing her in. She sat on the edge of the bed while I eased Veronica back against the pillows. Then I stripped off my clothes, and Allira removed her top, and we slipped beneath the covers with Veronica.

  Veronica immediately curled up next to me, holding on as if she feared the world outside the blanket might swallow her whole. Allira settled on my other side, warm and steady, her body fitting naturally against mine.

  “Veronica… sweet girl,” I murmured, brushing my lips against her damp forehead. “We’re not going anywhere.”

  Her breath hitched, then steadied. The iron grip she’d kept on me loosened just enough for her lungs to work properly. I pulled Allira closer with my other arm, and the three of us settled into a single quiet, tangled shape beneath the dim cabin light.

  It didn’t take long before Veronica slipped into a soft sleep, her tiny whistle-snore filling the stillness between the hum of the engines.

  The room was warm, dark, and peaceful. I lay there, listening to the steady rhythm of their breathing. My hand rested on Allira’s stomach, her skin smooth beneath my fingertips, heat radiating from her as if she carried a tiny sun inside.

  She shifted slightly, covering my hand with hers. A gentle squeeze. No words, just presence.

  “So…” I whispered, careful not to disturb Veronica, still curled against my chest, “do you want the blessing done in Vaelthorn… or Brakenreach?”

  Since coming to this world of magic and gods, I’d learned that some things worked differently than back on Earth. One of them was this: if you wanted a child, you sought a god’s blessing first. Not permission, just a blessing. A distinction everyone here seemed to understand instinctively.

  I wasn’t going to fight it. You don’t argue with gods; you learn the rules and work within them. Still, it bothered me that the only sanctioned way to receive such a blessing was through a church. It put an unnecessary weight on those who could least afford it, and that truth sat poorly with me.

  Allira shifted, her voice low, thoughtful. “Will we even have time before Brakenreach?”

  I nodded, pressing my forehead lightly against her shoulder. “Will you be wearing this again?” I asked, letting my hand trace the edge of the fabric right below her stomach, more teasing than anything.

  She let out a soft chuckle. “No. I already have a white set picked out. For the blessing.”

  “You could wear anything, sweetheart,” I murmured. “I’d still love it.”

  “You’re impossible,” she whispered, nudging me with her elbow. “Go to sleep. I asked Ava to wake us in three hours.”

  I exhaled, closed my eyes, and nestled in behind her, the steady hum of the Enterprise carrying us all into a quiet, shared warmth.

  I lay in the quiet, dim cabin, listening to the steady hum of the airship’s engines. The room remained dark, illuminated only by the faint glow coming from the corridor beneath the door.

  A moment later, the door just barely opened for a slim figure to slip inside. It quietly closed behind her. Soft footsteps drew near, and then a gentle hand touched my shoulder.

  “Master, it’s time to get up. I’ll turn on the lights.”

  I exhaled and sat up, motioning for her to sit beside me on the edge of the bed.

  “How are you doing since we left the vaults?” I asked.

  “I am fully operational, Master. The additional energy you supplied to our core has stabilized all systems.”

  “Hm.” I studied her expression. “And… with all that, how’s Ava been?”

  She blinked once. “I don’t understand.”

  “I mean emotionally,” I said, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “Are you feeling alright? Overwhelmed? Off balance? Anything like that?”

  Real concern must have bled into my voice, because she looked down at the hand I placed over hers, as if the gesture didn’t quite fit her expectations.

  After pausing, she answered, “Yes. I am doing well. Is that what you were asking?”

  “Yes,” I said with a small smile, letting her hand go so I could reach for my clothes. While I dressed, she stayed perfectly still, watching me with that attentive, analytical gaze she always had when trying to understand something unfamiliar.

  I tugged on my boots and sat back. “So where can I find my sweet wives this morning?”

  “In the stateroom,” she replied.

  I stood and offered her my hand. She accepted it without hesitation, and I gently pulled her to her feet.

  “If you ever have questions,” I said softly, “or want to talk, you can come to me. Anytime. You just went through some big changes.”

  I pulled her into a light hug. For a heartbeat, she didn’t move… then her arms came up, slowly, deliberately, curling around me. Her head rested against my chest.

  “Thank you,” she murmured. No Master this time. Interesting.

  “Well,” I said, brushing a hand over Ava’s shoulder as I opened the door for her, “let’s go see what kind of trouble I’m in. Otherwise, they’ll start thinking you and I were making out in here.”

  Ava paused mid-step. “What is making out?”

  “Oh…just an old phrase from my world. It means a couple is kissing and… enjoying each other’s company.”

  “I see. I do appreciate your company, master.” She took that as seriously as she would combat protocols.

  We walked together down the corridor, and when we reached the stateroom, I opened the door for her again. Inside, all six of my wives looked up at once like a coordinated ambush.

  “There he is,” Theresa announced, smiling smugly from her seat.

  “What were you doing, David?” Aria asked, lifting her eyes from her book.

  Before I could answer, Ava stepped inside and stated in her perfectly calm, literal tone: “We were not making out.” Every head in the room turned toward her.

  “Making out?” Seraphina repeated, brows drawing together. “What is that supposed to mean?” I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose.

  “It’s going to be one of those days, isn’t it?”

  I sat down, rather hard, into the empty seat. Ava stepped into her usual spot behind me, hands folded neatly in front of her, while all six of my wives stared at me with varying degrees of suspicion, amusement, and impending judgment. A maid delivered a cup of tea, bowed, and slipped away.

  I hadn’t even lifted it when Seraphina asked again, “So… what exactly is making out, David?”

  I exhaled slowly. “All right. Where I’m from, some expressions don’t translate well. Making out is a term for when a couple sits together and… enjoys each other’s company. Informally.” I cleared my throat. “Passionate kissing, affectionate touching, can include touching, nothing more. And for the record, Ava and I were just talking about terminology. I was trying to figure out how you six would react if I walked in late with her and…” I felt myself rambling into disaster, and Seraphina’s growing smile confirmed it. She was positively enjoying my slow collapse.

  “Ava,” Seraphina said gently, “he can be stupid at times, but we love him.”

  “Yes, Lady Seraphina. I will remember that,” Ava replied.

  “Now, David.” Seraphina set her tea aside with purpose. “We’ve been discussing some… issues. Specifically, the problem of only one wife accompanying you each day.” Oh no. Where was this going?

  “Once we reach Vaelthorn, you’ll have two of us with you every day. No arguments. Allira will care for you for the rest of today. Marlena tomorrow. Aria the day after. Once we’re in Vaelthorn, we’ll start rotating pairs: Allira and me on the first day, you’re taking us to church for Allira’s blessing.” I tried to disappear into my teacup.

  “Next,” she continued, “Theresa will pair up with Veronica, and Marlena will be with Aria. This will be a permanent rotation, adjusted every couple of months. Otherwise, Allyson and Ava can handle you if needed.”

  She lifted her tea again. “Ava, can you care for him appropriately?”

  “Yes, Lady Seraphina. We are fully equipped to provide whatever is required and will be at Master David’s side for the rest of his life. We have done this for all masters,” Ava answered calmly.

  I lowered my face into my hands. If I stared hard enough, I could decipher the secrets of the universe in the tea swirls.

  “What do you mean by fully equipped?” Veronica asked. Of course, someone would ask. I had assumed Aria, but timid, blushing Veronica? That surprised me.

  Ava answered plainly, “Lady Veronica, past masters needed assistance eating, walking, bathing, and many things that would be considered private. We will remain with Master David for his entire lifetime.”

  “She’s asking about sex, Ava,” Aria said dryly from her seat.

  “Yes,” Ava replied without hesitation, “we are equipped for that as well. But such duties are reserved for the Master’s spouses.” I nearly choked on my tea.

  “Okay, David,” Seraphina said, shifting without missing a beat. “When are you retrieving our sons?”

  I looked up. “Me? Right after Allira’s blessing. I’m working on a plan, but it’s still in the theory stage. That’s why Mynia is coming with us. I need to speak with King Thorne and his wife first.”

  “Before we have dinner, what did you do to Veronica?” Allira asked, a sharp note in her voice. She wasn’t yelling, but the protective edge was unmistakable. “That was not normal.”

  “No, it wasn’t,” I admitted. “And I’m sorry, Veronica. Truly. I was tracing her markings, reading what was written in them, and that’s when everything started heating up. Literally. It seems to be some prophecy of some type.”

  I pulled my sketchbook out of storage, flipping through the pages until I reached the section I’d written earlier. When I looked up, I saw the moment Seraphina’s expression shifted, recognition. She remembered her own prophecy, the one we were still trying to figure out.

  “Here’s what I managed before she overheated,” I said, then read aloud:

  “When the Lost Child of Worlds awakens, and the broken towers stir…

  …She shall be the Ember-Bearer, first spark among the Ten…

  Through pain she endures; through endurance she rises…

  Her fire shall steady his path when the stars begin…

  …may bear the burden of the First Gate unleashed.

  Only the chosen may stand unburned at his side when the heavens…”

  I lowered the sketchbook. Six pairs of eyes stared back at me, concerned, thoughtful, unsettled.

  “That’s all I got before Veronica couldn’t continue,” I said softly. “There’s more, but I’m not pushing her again until we find a way to keep her from overheating. I was thinking… maybe our bath in the Vaelthorn Tower could help? Something to pull the excess heat out of both of us.”

  “That might help,” Marlena murmured, tapping a finger against her knee.

  “You have a bath?” Theresa said, brightening instantly. “Oh, that sounds wonderful. All of us in the same bath… how romantic.”