Asteria

We kept our chat casual as the hotel staff arrived with dinner. I’d asked them to place all the dishes on the table and a sideboard so we could serve ourselves and have some privacy. When the hotel people left, I asked Uriel to explain what the EL did in our world while we ate.

“Incredible,” said this world’s Sariel. I couldn’t get used to how normal he looked compared to the weird fashions the Sariel I was used to always wear. This Sariel looked like he belonged on the cover of a military recruitment poster with his dress uniform, buzz cut, and an overabundance of weapons.

Elsa, Magnus, and the three ELs from this world were all armed to the teeth with knives, guns, wands, tasers, and who knew what else. I’d bet that the cane Magnus used had a few surprises built into it, too.

“But why did the continent sink? What about the shield?” asked Magnus.

Magnus…

Physically, he looked the same as the Magnus I knew, except for his limp. His personality was seemingly more honest and open compared to the Kraej scion I was familiar with, but that could just be a front.

Elsa told me they’d met at the battlefield when she’d dragged him to safety and healed him when he was wounded.

I couldn’t imagine the spoiled rich boy Magnus Kraej in my world, with his manicured nails and expensive suits, hunkering down in the trenches with the common soldiers, but in this strange alternate universe, it was expected for the Kraej to lead his men in the frontlines.

“I’ve heard about the Eatuhean shield. That’s what stops you from bringing the war to them, right? I suspect the shield was never built in our world, hence the entire continent sank beneath the waves,” I said.

“Unbelievable,” said Kraej.

The Sariel of this world shook his head and said, “Let me get this straight… Not only is there no war and no Eatuhea in your world, but ELs are also not soldiers at all. You’re monster hunters and everyone respects and idolizes you.”

“Yes,” said Sariel to his counterpart in this world.

A shiver ran down my spine. It was so weird whenever the two Sariels talked to each other because they looked so different, but their voices sounded the same.

“It sounds like heaven. I can’t believe how lucky you guys are,” said this world’s Sariel.

The others from this world muttered similar thoughts. I let the men talk it over while turned my attention to dinner because I was starving. I drank some water while I waited for the plate of food that Seraphiel was preparing for me.

To my surprise, Elsa glared at Seraphiel and said, “Why did you put the food on a plate for her? Are you monitoring her food intake?”

“Huh?” I said. What was she on about?

Seraphiel ignored her.

“I can’t believe you cut her steak into little pieces. Are you going to spoon-feed her, too?” asked Elsa.

“Nooooooo! Why did you say that? Please don’t give him any weird ideas,” I said. Sure enough, with a mischievous look on his face, Seraphiel started trying to spoon-feed me. Not many people knew, but he was a real joker sometimes. I leaned away from Seraphiel and tried to push his hand away.

“Oh, good goddess, you two are disgusting,” said Sariel. “Get a room and do your lovey-dovey stuff away from us.”

“Stop it, Ely! Besides, you know that’s way too big to even fit in my mouth. Look.” I took the spoon from him, dumped the food on my plate, then held it in front of my open mouth to demonstrate that it was too big for me to use.

I didn’t understand why everyone except Seraphiel started laughing.

“Sorry. I’ll get the smaller cutlery for you,” said Seraphiel. He went to the suite’s kitchen and returned with the items.

The others were still at it and some of them were even clutching their stomachs because of how hard they were laughing.

“What’s so funny?” I asked Seraphiel.

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it,” he said.

Uriel patted Seraphiel on the shoulder and gave him a commiserating look.

“Guys?” I asked. Everyone except for Sariel stopped laughing, but no one answered me. I held up the original spoon and said, “I don’t think it’s my imagination that the spoons are way bigger than they should be. The furniture here is also gigantic.”

“It must be a cultural difference between our worlds,” said Magnus. His lips were still twitching, and his voice was unsteady as he seemed to be holding back more laughter. “The hotel staff used a formal table setting for us which, now that I think about it, was probably derived from Eatuhean customs. High-end and formal occasions tend to use oversized items since they are considered better.”

Gosh, had they been laughing because I’d made a faux pas when I’d complained about the size of the cutlery? But why would Sariel and Uriel, who were from my world, find it funny, too?”

Elsa cleared her throat and said, “Alright, jokes aside, why can’t you get your own food? You have proper, functioning arms and legs, don’t you?”

“Eh? What are you talking about?” I didn’t get what she was saying at all.

“You shouldn’t let him treat you like a child! Get your own food, and don’t let him do everything for you,” said Elsa. Then she turned to Seraphiel and said to him, “Don’t baby her, it makes both of you look bad. You don’t want her to grow up to be a useless adult, do you?”

“I’m already an adult!” My goodness, did Elsa also think I was underaged? This world’s Sariel had acted as though I was a child, but he was ten or more years older than me. On the other hand, Elsa and I were close to the same age.

Uriel said, “That’s just another cultural difference. It’s customary for men to serve their partners in our world.”

I shot him a grateful look. Seraphiel and Sariel nodded to express their agreement. I could tell from the way that the corners of Seraphiel’s mouth turned down that he was irritated, but he didn’t say anything.

“Hmph,” said Elsa. She did stop scolding me about it.

I had the distinct impression that she disapproved of my relationship with Seraphiel, but that was none of her business.

After that, we all focused more on eating. Magnus said he would need a few days to get the safe house ready for us. I asked for tips about where to shop for clothes and shoes, and the talk around the dinner table became more casual and relaxed.

As we were eating dessert, I leaned closer to Elsa. The goddess had tasked the others with my safety, but as for me, my only mission was to teach Elsa how to save her world. I said in a low voice, “Take the time that you need to settle whatever business you have, but don’t dawdle. When you join us for your training, I need you to be focused on learning to heal the world.”

“I might need a few weeks, not days,” she said.

“That’s fine,” I said. “But if it’s going to take that long, I’ll have to cure the others tomorrow.”

We hashed out the details over dinner. Elsa couldn’t even enter the spiritual plane yet, so I would need to teach her everything.

How was I supposed to know then that training her would also entail getting entangled in the centuries-long war?