Chapter 312

  The GYBIU Bug

  “Okay, now that the easy part is over.”

  The worst eight words in the English language. Just combining them all but seems to tempt fate. That, or worse is the prelude to a direct backlash of karma.

  There is a certain Karma to actions, and I’m learning more and more that there is karma in words and phrases.

  Things like the five-word karmic challenge, how bad can it get?

  That is one example of words almost immediately having instant karma associated with them. Then there is the six word with a conjunction, what’s the worst that can happen?

  Both seem to be challenges that I might have been responsible for unleashing on myself a time or two.

  That said, when your boss hits you with the eight worder, “okay, now that the easy part is over.” Particularly after you just got back from any form of vacation, you know that you will not like what comes next.

  I mean the words themselves are a warning to prepare for what is about to be unleashed next. Almost like telling someone to brace themselves when a tsunami is already barreling down upon them. By that point it is already too late and you should have used the moment to try to jump or something, but instead you were distracted by the words that all but told you the easy part was over.

  In my case, I was hit with quite possibly the fastest acting form of karma there was, for Mallory’s next words were, “where should we let your husband stay?”

  Hearing those words, I feel instant bile rise in my throat, and I realize that no good deed goes unpunished. Here I am, getting back from having to go through captivity. Learning how to escape, then planning a master escape plan, with Zero no less, all to get back and be forced to retrieve the lout. And now I need to work on logistics of where he should stay?

  That’s when I provide what seems to be the most obvious answer.

  “I mean, aren’t there still some homeless shelters we have available from all the refugees that we took in?” I ask, referring to the ongoing war with the Legrand Empire.

  That is still a thing, right? The war?

  I want to ask, but I have an odd feeling that if I somehow bring that up, I might get hit by the GYBIU bug. That is the Glad You brought It Up, another five word instant karma slap caused by your own words.

  Thus, I avoid that comment, and instead focus on the hopefully free housing available. Though I don’t know how many people are still homeless after a month.

  It is also likely a good thing that I keep quiet as Mallory just crosses her arms and gives me a disapproving lip bite and frown. That is the look of, I expected better from you?

  Again, my first impulse is to protest, but instead I just grit my own teeth, not wanting to ruin her impression of me any further.

  After a moment of it being clear that I will not talk, Mallory unclenches her jaw, and while never stating she is disappointed, lets her words and body posture all but scream her opinion as she gives me what she clearly sees as the best solution to the problem at hand.

  “Gwen said we should just put him up in your room,” Mallory noted.

  Yep, what I feared. The two conspirators working together for one common goal, of somehow making Rob my problem once more.

  Hearing that, I want to protest. But then a different thought hits me, one where I might be able to shift the focus away from me.

  “Isn’t she afraid that the Kujos will eat him?”

  Mallory pauses for a moment, before asking, “wait, you don’t think the Kujo Caverns is your official Guild lodging, do you?”

  Hearing her, I also pause.

  “Wait, that isn’t mine?” I ask.

  “No, well I guess you’ve kind of made it your own, but no that is not your Guild room.” Mallory clarifies.

  I pause for a moment, and nod, but then try to think about what other places I have been granted and realize.

  “Wait, he can’t be in my office, all of my books are there?” I respond. Not that I am afraid of him hurting the books, quite the contrary. With their now beefed up levels it is clear that those books would easily eat any part of him that made unwanted advances, particularly if he got too handsy.

  Once again Mallory just pauses and looks at me like I am daft.

  “No, that is your school office building. There is no way we would put anything in there that would make you want to stay away.”

  Hearing her, I let out a slight sigh of relief, realizing that he won’t contaminate my books with his dirty fingers like he used to during out time together. Instantly I remember times where Cheetos fingers, Greece stains, and dog eared pages afflicted many of my books that Rob tried to read to get closer to me.

  That was quite possibly one of the worst ways to show interest in my hobbies he could.

  Almost the same thing as trying to get closer to someone by taking up swimming, only to fill the Olympic sized pool with red Kool-Aid packages, because you wanted the water to taste better when you inadvertently got some in your mouth. Not realizing that such an act would ruin the pool for the next person who tried to use it for its actual purpose.

  Worse, suddenly I was the bad person for explaining his poor reading habits to him like that.

  Stolen story; please report.

  “They are just books...” he’d snipe back.

  Even now I can feel those painful words haunting me even now.

  Snap, snap.

  Mallory snaps her fingers trying to get my attention.

  I shake my head, suddenly forgetting those old arguments and am back in the present and respond honestly.

  “Good, I didn’t want him messing with my books, again.”

  “This is great, for we put him in your permanent housing apartment, particularly since you have yet to claim your room key.”

  “Who needs a key, when you can just Teleport?” I ask, only partially joking. Still, I can’t help but think that I am missing something here. “Wait, where exactly is this room? And how long have I had it available?”

  “Well, since you were made an officer in the Guild, you have always had a permanent lodging available. And it is always available, but we recommend it most for when you wish to sleep.” Mallory responds, placing particular emphasis on the word sleep.

  “Wait, why would I want to sleep now, knowing that Rob is there?” I ask, clearly imagining the source of nightmare fuel and aqua velvida aftershave lingering in what would likely be an all too small apartment building.

  “You don’t have to sleep,” Mallory quips and gives a slight smile and a suggestive eye raise that all but makes me want to vomit.

  “Eww,” I state, barely able to keep glittery pixie vomit from covering my guild leader.

  For a moment I wonder if that is part of her diabolical plan. Has she learned to use pixie vomit as an Alchemical agent that I am not aware of?

  Also, what type of monster would try to harvest the vomit of their best friends for potions, unless they were really good potions? At that thought, I almost feel like I remember something. Something very important, something that I should have likely taken care of already. It is right there, right at the tip of my brain ready to be remembered, but then Mallory keeps speaking.

  “This will hopefully be a temporary staging, while we work out details. But being in your room, he will have a few extra safeguards in place that should help us protect him, particularly as we nurse him back to heath,” Mallory adds, once again diverting me to realizing just how dangerously close to death his body was.

  Hearing that I nod in agreement.

  Then I have an aha moment, where I realize that we likely had this conversation before, or one very similar in relation to what my guild status allows me.

  I paused, wondering if that was what I was trying to remember, but for the life of me, I cannot think of anything else and realize that this tidbit of knowledge. The idea that I would have a permanent office building somewhere was likely to tell me. I remember thinking about having a room in one of the cities in the now occupied territories of the Legrand Empire before we all moved out west and converted these desert lands.

  Yeah, that must have been it, remembering that I possibly had a hotel room or a suite out where we met Rick the Prick troll for my real-life birthday party gone wrong.

  There is an awkward pause, as I see that Mallory is just staring at me and likely reading my expressions. Again, there almost feels like there was something else that I was missing, but I can’t remember. That’s when I say what I hope will end this odd conversation faster.

  “Yeah, I guess Gwen is right,” I finally replied.

  “Wait, what?”

  Mallory who looked like she was about to argue the point suddenly got floored by my response.

  “Rob, or Robi’dob squared, he can have the room,” I begin, but then continue, “well he can have them, so long as I don’t have to call him by either of his names.”

  Mallory just stares at me, and I can tell she wants to say something, but is clearly holding back.

  “Go on, say it.”

  “I’ll make the changes permanent, but know you will likely have to talk to him again.” Mallory explained.

  “Yeah, I know,” I hiss out, frustratedly.

  “You will especially have to talk to him, if you want to finally divorce him,” Mallory replies as she begins to walk away, but before she gets too far, she turns back and lets out one last jab.

  “That or if you just want to remain married to him, you could always continue doing what you are doing now,” Mallory quipped as she let a giant smirk fill her face before she took off like a flash.

  I almost want to chase her, only realizing that she is running straight back to the lecture hall. The one where all of the Bloodline Awakening students that didn’t awaken during my midterm class are now gathered.

  Seeing them all there, I want to go forward and tell Mallory that she is wrong, but I know it will just be a trap. One designed to get me to interject myself as a teacher while she tries to come up with an excuse to leave.

  Pausing for a moment, I just stare at her retreating form and wonder what else I should do. There is still a niggling thought that is trying to fill my mind, something related to Alchemy, likely pixie vomit and components.

  I can’t go to my room, wherever that is and see what it looks like. Almost like trying to look at my books in their pristine off-the-shelf look, before Rob would stain them with coffee, blood, dirt, sweat, or whatever other bodily secretion he could somehow find and get to permeate the pages.

  My thought is that if I don’t look at my room right now, then I will always assume it is a pigsty. Deep down I know that it can’t be true. There is no way Mallory would allow me or anyone in her guild to receive a dirty room upon awarding. At the very least the room would have to be empty and free of clutter.

  Then the moment of curiosity passes, as I know it is already past its pre-Rob shine and gleam. Nope, best to avoid it now and look in on a newly minted officer room that hasn’t been assigned yet.

  This is how I realized that going to, or trying to find my own Guild Apartment was off my current to-do list.

  I realized that I also don’t want to go to my office room, as I was just there. While I am curious about reading my new books, I know there is something there that is a quest that I must complete, in order to raise my maximum skill level proficiency. Again, it is likely something easy that should be no problem to solve at all, but I can’t think of it.

  The only real clue I have is that it has nothing to do with further evolving my bloodline, a fact that I am immensely grateful for.

  Gah! It is going to drive me nuts not being able to realize what quest I need to complete. To my defense, I have literally hundreds of quests. Well, I’ve assigned hundreds of quests to others. Fortunately, I am not at hundreds of quests left uncompleted like half started puzzles.

  That’s when I realize, I am going to drive myself crazy if I don’t do something. Yes, I just got back, but I need to go and move or do something. Maybe moving will help jog my mind and let me remember whatever it is I seem to feel that I am forgetting.

  It is with this thought in mind that I begin thinking, surely there is something that I need to do.

  Then as if karma heard my own thoughts and decided to cause me to have a near panic attack, I heard, or rather felt, my next task.

  “So, what should we do next?”

  STARTLE.

  Hearing Raygunnr, the quiet as lurking death Teleiotís come to life and suddenly ask a question as if he wasn’t an inanimate depiction of a murder bot just moments ago scared me. Particularly as the murder bot stood completely still, giving off no signs of breathing or other unnecessary movements.

  Seeing the giant machine, it was clear that one of my remaining fears, or ways to die, that is suffocation meant nothing to this murder machine.

  “Stop that, at least cause some form of whirring piston sounds before you move,” I respond.

  “Pistons? I don’t believe I have those,” he responded.

  Again, he showed that there was no sense of humor in his voice. I wonder if it was removed? That or maybe the Teleiotís language didn’t allow for such depths of humor. Regardless of the reason, he didn’t get the joke and the two of us were just standing out in the middle of a field.

  “Come on, let’s go to class,” I state, deciding to bring the murder bot to the perspective students.

  Let’s see if this will be a good enough incentive to attract other students wishing to learn how to speak to the Teleiotís.

  Thump, thud, silence.

  As Raygunnr moved, all I could hear were the distinct sounds of heavy feet making contact with the lush ground, before compacting the ground for a moment, before raising up their leg and moving.

  Each step taken by the massive Teleiotís was both loud and silent.

  Loud in the way the metal feet impacted the ground, but silent in the way that he was right, there were no whirring sounds of any form. Only the intensely bright glowing of mana particles expanding and contracting.

  The Teleiotís truly were amazing creatures.

  “So you are married?” Raygunnr asked, his mana sparks bursting out and causing me to almost jump at how unprepared I was at hearing him speak for a moment.

  I was almost going to ask how he knew, but then quickly realized that I had been speaking in the Mana Language the entire time. So even though my active mind dismissed the completely stationary murder bot, my passive mind still registered him there and continued to speak to him.

  “Yeah, somehow.” I replied.

  There was an awkward silence at that, as he no doubt tried to understand my comment. Finally after a few more paces, he began speaking again.

  “Can I ask what was he like?”

  Hearing that question, I almost pause mid-flap as I turn my body to face him. “Why do you ask?”

  “Well, he likely had to be impressive in some way to capture your attention,” Raygunnr answered in quite possibly the most romantic but not-romantic way possible. I could tell from his inflection that there was no emotion behind the words, not that Mana Language seemed to allow for such expressive behaviors. Instead, all that I could feel was his honest assessment and a definitive want to know.

  “You are too sweet,” I reply and then not wanting to even go down that road, I dismiss it and continue onward.

  Raygunnr just pauses for a moment, but after I get a half dozen flaps away from him, he once again begins moving.

  Thum-ump, thud-thump.

  He does go at a half jog and is able to catch up to me in two and a half quick steps. Gods it must be amazing to have long legs and be able to move like that.

  I am almost jealous of a moving mana factory, when I stop myself and realize that I’m getting jealous over long legs, when I can fly. My mind also goes through the Mana and Qi conversion ratios that would be required for me as a Teleiotís to be able to generate lift, or at least a zero gravity as I do now, and realize it would be prohibitively costly with energy.

  “So what do you…” Raygunnr begins, but I quickly have my attention drawn to the densely folding spatial anomaly next to me.

  Turning, I face the incoming disturbance with an odd sort of clarity.

  “That’s how you do it,” is all I can say, realizing that a mystery that had been slightly bothering me for a while was now solved. Then before I can get too caught up in my own deeper understanding of magics being used around me, life happens.

  Fwoosh!

  “I’ve got you now!” A blurring figure states, with what can only be considered a binding magical shackle of some kind barreling down on me.

  “What?” Is all I manage to get out, before the gravity of the situation hits me.