[A Day in the Life of Aelryinth] - 2300 hours

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            Aethra’s Salute was long over and all the kids were all down, except for Angel and Earl. Those two were in Meditation with Diana. They’d be coming out at midnight to the Pavilion, too, while the other kids could sleep.

            But I was halfway across the island of Michigan, walking down a long-disintegrated asphalt road there, lifting up stone and earth from underground and rebuilding a brand-new trail, aligning the ditches, and putting in a decent road in the night after hours. The farmers and haulers would wake up in the morning to find a crumbling road that was little more than a footpath replaced by a long, smooth brick road that could last for centuries, with straight ditches and regular intervals and bridges replaced and restored fully.

            I made a lot of roads. Weirdboy was doing the same, during the day, getting in more miles than me now, as there were always more roads to make, and labor was focused more on food than the roads.

            We did pretty good, but there was always more need for roads.

            I had more attention on my two eldest than I did the roads, actually. The Marks meant I was always in contact with them, a situation I had to be careful about not to overwhelm them with who and what I was, but at times, it was necessary.

            For them, it was in Meditation, where they were slowly burning the fuck out of the Dragonhearts from the two Hoar Dragons that had killed their little sister, which had fled into them. 

            The Dragonhearts were slowly turning my two adopted kids into half-dragons. For a lot of people, this was a huge gift, as it explicitly made them Powered and able to use Arcane magic, automatically qualifying as Dragon-blood Sorcerers. It also came with a lot of physical benefits, such as great strength, tough skin, expanded senses, and several immunities, including an immunity to cold, in their case.

            All of that, and the cold savagery of a Hoar Dragon influencing their minds and bodies as it was their souls.

            We always purged Dragonhearts clean before administering them, no remnants or residues of the dragon it came from allowed to persist before someone took them in, for exactly the reasons my kids were having to deal with.

            Hoar dragons were predatory, savage, malicious, territorial, and violent, prone to fits of icy rage and almost berserker tendencies to fly into combat when challenged. Even if many of their memories didn’t survive, their instincts were in the Dragonhearts and constantly pushing at Earl and Angel.

            They’d been forced to grow up quickly, learning true Chi Meditation from their mother and following Diana’s likewise cold and ruthless instructions as they slowly cut apart and whittled down the remnants of the mind and soul of the Dragons inside them after the fact, a feat no one but them could do without killing them first.

            We could help, and in particular the Auras of Diana and I were very good at intimidating the Dragonhearts, having slain the Dragons and having the auras of Dragonslayers ourselves, complete with our own Dragon Names being given to us for what we’d done to them.

            So our kids had to Meditate, every night, using their small amounts of chi to slowly grind and cut away at the Dragonhearts inside them, slowly eliminating the dragon remnants and reducing the Hearts to nexi of cold, clear Draconic power, empty of any bias but elemental purity.

            There would be no embracing and improving the power of the Dragonheart until it was clean, which was likely going to take years.

            One of us, or our personal friends and Tens, was with the children at all times. It was a brutal and unkind necessity for the world we lived in. There were always at least four Tens watching over all the kids on the way to school, and one of every married pair was always, always at home with the kids, if the other had business off and away with the unrelenting demand for combat time.

            The duty was swapped off between the families according to schedules, nobody allowed to complain. It became time to pursue downtime activities, like Infusing and Investing things, tasks that could be broken in an instant if it became necessary to act.

            I was the only one who didn’t have to participate in that schedule, given the nature of my work. Regardless, when the kids were at home, Diana or I were always there.

            There had been nine attempts on my family over the years. One of them had been the one that killed my firstborn, little Melinda, at the hands of those two Hoar Dragons, things empowered by the Winter Court of the Fey and Hell itself to deal True Death, to punish me for my effrontery and foiling of their plans.

            Dragons, the Winter Court, and Hell. They were all going to pay for murdering my little girl, and infecting my adopted kids with those damn Dragonhearts, enforcing years of miserable discipline and mental strain dealing with the fucking things and having to throttle and grind down and slay something so slowly and intimately, even as it was trying to bend and twist them into embracing the power it had to give them and enjoy wielding it for themselves.

            It wasn’t working well, as both of my kids had inherited a loathing of dragons that would have been a bit unsettling, if they hadn’t watched their little sister get eaten right in front of them.

            Dragons of the Empire of Cold Blood, Fey of the Winter Court, and Hell. They were all going to pay...

            Sometimes it really sucked to have mental Stats so high. It wasn’t just my Intellect that was juiced to the gills, driving my analytical ability, calculating capabilities, information retention, pattern recognition, comprehension, higher orders of thought, and processing speed to simply superhuman levels.

            No, I had Wisdom and Charisma up the kazoo, too. The 40’s were rarefied territory, shared by very, very few people on the planet even now, and by nobody else in three Stats.

            Wisdom was understanding, experience, acceptance, emotional control, tolerance, empathy, mental resilience, and most importantly, spirituality. Among other things, it made me incredibly aware of the profound forces moving through the world and about it, the scale of them, and just how small we really were in relation to some of them.

            It also gave me the tolerance I really, really needed to have when directing so many people who didn’t understand why I ordered things thus and so, prioritized this instead of that, and had to put up with delays and other things that happened to upset what we were trying to do. I could and would explain what and why I did things, and if they didn’t like my reasoning, they at least had to accept that I had almost always considered whatever they wanted done and ruled it out as an option for a reason.

            In contrast, Charisma was force of will, personality reinforcement, and emotional depth.

            Lots of emotional depth.

            This walk alone in the night was when I let the stress out.

            “Truth,” I said to myself, and it all played out before me.

            Annoyance with fools who kept second-guessing my decisions, when I so obviously knew better and had thought through so much more than them.

            Anger at those who couldn’t take the step to have some faith and loyalty and belief in one another.

            Fury whenever I thought of my toddler of a daughter being eaten in front of me, and the glee in the pale blue eyes of that Dragon as it did so, the Hellrune on its chest flaring brightly in the presence of my Hellmark, and I knew, knew so precisely what Evils were responsible for her death.

            Disappointment in the Neutrals who couldn’t get past their own self-interests, unable to rise above their limited world-view and lack of care beyond their shortsightedness, their envy of those who were doing better because they were working together, blaming us and not themselves, which fell so easily to…

            The Evil. Not caring about others, totally willing to sacrifice others for their own benefit, to lie, cheat, steal, betray, or murder. The instinct to just come down and sweep them out of existence and rid everyone of their foul urges and damned souls, sending them down to the places they were going and getting them out of the lives of Good people…

            Defiance against so many Evil forces reaching for our world, seeing a ripe plum to be plucked.

            Scorn for the uncaring Neutral forces who moved without consideration for us, advancing agendas before which we were just gnats and dust in the ides of time.

            Recognition and awe of the sheer immensity of the tasks before us, fighting off fear, despair…

            Grief at the losses that had come before, and would continue in the future, no way to stop them. We had to fight or die.

            Sorrow for the way of life lost that would never come again.

            Self-doubt at the decisions I’d made, that others had made, knowing that some would fail, that some other choice might be better…  especially when it came to matters of justice and law and having to pass them on to people who never learned their lessons on what it really meant to Sin. Reviewing them, especially ones that led to deaths or bodymorphing or other punishments.

            No hiding from it all. I was faced with everything, had to look at it and judge it in the searing light of Truth.

            And hold the course.

            “Hope,” I whispered to myself, because I had to.

            We were doing better, every single day. Gradual, incremental improvement. 

            People were rising to see the light of Good. To embrace the Allegiance and what it meant to truly belong to and work for something greater than themselves.

            Loyalty was rising to those who had earned it. Duty was given to those needing leadership and direction growing.

            Basic needs were being met ever more solidly, allowing us to expand and grow. Sources of goldweight were increasing. Levels were rising and skills with them, filling needs, not just wants.

            The population was growing, kids were getting older, rising to fill the needs of our people and world. Another short decade, and they’d be taking up the jobs of their parents and solidifying our position in the world.

            Heaven had our backs. The Gods of Good were not the self-centered jerks of countless stories. They were actually Good, and acted like it, not petty narcissists of our old legends. They were doing their best to protect against us against those Divine forces that wanted to exploit this world for its souls and open lands, returning to us our Faith as miracles and giving us advice and guidance on a truly difficult path. There was a World-Angel and its cohort up there under the Rings, making sure nothing came in from the void or even our own hostile moons to test us at this point.

            We were getting stronger, and if not truly taking back the world, at least defending it, wrapping a wall of magic and will about our homes. The corruption within, the Evil gnawing at the weak of will and the hungry for power, was being uncovered and fought, if only at horrendous costs paid by the innocent and the foolish.

            People were dying, and children were being born. We were growing.

            “Valor,” I whispered as I clenched my fist, gliding forward. A new road, new pipes, and a new short bridge came into existence underneath me. Every step rebuilding in the face of the violence of the world.

            It was a war that could not be won, only battles fought and victory found at the end of each of them, knowing that there would be more battles in the future, and they would never, ever go away, never cease entirely, only wait for another time and place. They only earned us short periods of peace, during which time we had to prepare for more war.

            But by Heaven, if they wanted to bring us battles and war, we would build, optimize, power-game, and cheat if we could, all on the way to victory!

            They brought us into this grand game of Alignments, and they were going to rue the day they did!

            My fist slowly unclenched as I glared at two Dragonhearts in the minds and souls of my adopted children, and they quailed before the Wrath of a dragon-slayer all too ready to add more to my totals.

            The things had only bought themselves more time, not a stay of execution!

---

            My emotions were calmed down, channeled, fuel for the day ahead instead of worries, doubts, and desires gnawing at me and threatening to derail me and my thoughts.

            It was time to Teleport home, back to the Ringsong Pavilion.

            Time to Meditate, and Sing to the magic and Heaven again.

----------

0001 Hours…

            The Sublime Chord rang out in the Ringsong Pavilion again. Diana had brought all the children out to experience it one more time, especially Earl and Angel, battling the cold and predatory spirits that were faltering, but still alive within them.

            In time, all in time. Grind away, along with my friends and neighbors who had once again shown up with their own children, one day at a time...

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