The nearest sandwich shop wasn’t Arthur’s favorite, but it was good enough. He ordered a couple things, resigning himself to the idea that he probably wasn’t going to have a standard dinner in the normal family way that evening. He let Euth make his own order, hoping he’d get some more useful data out of the kid that way. He didn’t.


    “Sandwich,” Euth said. “However you make them.”


    The wind elemental running the stand went to work without a word of complaint about the lack of direction.


    “No soup?” Arthur asked.


    Euth grimaced. “No. The soup isn’t very good here.”


    “I thought this stand did a pretty good job.”


    “I mean… here. This world. It has bad soup.”


    Arthur looked at his own soup, which was a masterpiece by Earth standards. “Do you just not like soup?”


    “No. I like soup. Just not here.”


    “And the sandwich is fine?”


    “It’s fine.” Euth got frustrated. “You’ve had that soup! You know it’s not very good.”


    Arthur glanced at the air elemental running the stand, who seemed to understand that something weird was happening and motioned in a way that probably meant he wasn’t offended.


    “You need to be more careful than that,” Arthur said, a bit more sternly than before. “Whether or not you think the soup is good, the person running this stand is a person. They probably don’t like to hear that it’s bad.”


    For a second, Arthur thought that bit of advice was going to take. Then the boy scoffed.


    “Soft,” Euth spat. “Just like the rest of the people here.”


    By the time Arthur got Euth into the heart of the city, he had managed to crowbar a few more facts out of him. The walls in Euth’s world were to keep demons away, and the war against those demons had been going on for centuries.


    “Did you see the old man?” Arthur asked, once they got back to his house and settled into chairs. It was already arranged that Euth would be there for a week, and Arthur had the room all set out for him. “Between places. The one with the tea, and the very soft sheets.”


    “Tea? No. I had an old man between places, though.” Euth held his hands out, wide. “A big, strong-looking guy. Wide as a barn. With a huge sword. He said I had to choose a place to go, but only gave me a single word to do it.”


    “Oh. Huh.” Arthur thought about whether or not he should share his word, then decided it was probably better to be honest than safe. “Mine was nice.”


    Euth snorted.


    “Yeah, yeah. Soft. What was yours?” Arthur asked.


    Euth’s eyes suddenly burned like fire.


    “Demons.”


    It was clear he hadn’t wanted the demons for calm reasons.


    —


    Arthur and Euth only talked for a bit longer before the younger man asked for his room and some time alone. Arthur gladly gave it to him. He was getting pretty exhausted of the conversation too.


    From what he could gather, Euth’s death hadn’t been a happy thing. The boy wouldn’t talk about it, but the particular way he shied away held an informational value all its own. And the way he said the word demon carried its own messaging, too.


    Putting two and two together, Arthur was more or less confident why he had found his way here. The man-between-places was pretty good, but he couldn’t choose your word for you. This was likely the planet with the most demons in it, and so Euth ended up here, with a heart full of anger and nothing good to point it at.


    I can’t let that boy become a warrior, Arthur thought. Not like he is now, anyway. He’d hurt himself eventually even if he didn’t hurt anyone else.


    And that was a problem because…


    “You are thinking too hard.” Arthur felt a familiar pair of lips brush past his forehead. “Much too hard. He’s here, I take it?”


    “Yeah.” Arthur scowled. “He’s in the upstairs room. He shouldn’t be able to hear us.”


    “Why does that matter? Do you have bad things to say?” Mizu asked.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    “Not bad things, exactly. He’s a smart kid. He’s strong. He’s… I think he’s been through a lot,” Arthur said, trying to find the right words. “And it seems like he ended up in kind of the wrong place.”


    “Oh?” Mizu slipped her shoes off, sat across from Arthur, and waggled her feet at him until he started rubbing them. “What makes you so sure?”


    “He wants to do a bunch of violence. But it’s not like there isn’t any violence to do around here. I’m going to take him to the dungeon tomorrow, with Onna. Just to see how he reacts to it, firsthand.”


    Mizu sighed as Arthur worked his thumbs across the swollen soles of her feet. “But you don’t think that will work? I’m not following the problem.”


    “The problem is… hmm.” Arthur was just putting these thoughts together when Mizu came in. They didn’t assemble easily now. “Think of Karbo. He’s big, he’s strong, he loves fighting. But he loves fighting like it’s a game. Once he’s done playing for the day, he’s done. Then he goes and eats, kisses Itela, whatever he does on his off hours. He takes full advantage of the Demon World.”


    “And you don’t think Euth would?” Mizu asked.


    “I don’t. I think he’s expecting war to break out any second. And because of that, I don’t think he’s noticing any of the good stuff. I don’t think he’s even seen it.”


    “Ah. That sounds hard for you.”


    “For him. I have a pretty blue girlfriend.”


    “A pretty blue wife,” Mizu said, shifting uncomfortably in her chair. “A very pregnant pretty blue wife. Who is very tired.”


    “Oh, I bet.” Arthur slid off his chair and knelt near Mizu’s stomach. His powers meant that he could vaguely tell that someone inside there didn’t have a good concept of what type of tea they wanted. But otherwise, he was just like any other normal dad. “Did mom do a good job fixing the river, fella? Did she divert it, or undivert it as needed?”


    “I unblocked it. And fixed a little bit of the bed. With lots of help.” Mizu winced as she sat up a little straighter in her chair. “And I’m still like this. Also, Arthur, I am going to point out that once again you have no idea whether it’s a fella in there or not.”


    “Which is annoying. There’s really no way to tell?”


    “No! Why would there be?” Mizu said. “Just wait like a normal person. The baby will just be who they are. It’s not like you won’t love them.”


    “It’s not like I don’t love them. When is he coming out, though?” Arthur asked.


    “Tomorrow. For sure.”


    “Really? Promise?”


    “No, Arthur.” She rolled her eyes. “I don’t. Now help me out of this chair. I need bed.”


    “I can help with that,” Arthur said. “I’ve spent a lot of money on our bed.”


    “I know you have. It’s part of why I love you.”


    —


    The next morning, Arthur was up bright and early brewing not just one but two pots of tea. Mizu, in her extreme pregnancy, was not supposed to have pep. Arthur subbed in some sweetness for her to try to make up for it, heavily juicing her drink with sweetberry syrup and hoping she could find some energy there.


    For his and Euth’s tea, Arthur went with the strongest, most pepped void-black tea he had on hand. If Euth was going to spend all his time playing the part of the hardened warrior, Arthur was going to give him a drink to match.


    “Here.” Arthur handed off Mizu’s drink as she came down the stairs in a loose-fitting dress and slippers. “For you.”


    “Thanks.” Mizu kissed him. “Is Euth up yet?”


    “I am.” Euth was bleary-eyed, even after what must have been ten hours of sleep. Arthur reminded himself that Euth did not have a class yet, and as such, was running on a stock, near-human body. One that had, at this point, seen the better part of a half-dozen towns as people tried to find a place for him. He had to be worn out from that. It wasn’t even just that he couldn’t sleep in his own bed. He didn’t even have a bed of his own to sleep in. “Is that… Tea?”


    “Yup,” Arthur said. He handed over the tea, which he had gone ahead and dumped the entirety of his majicka into. It did everything, taking advantage of every level he had gained in the last five years or so. It would make the drinker stronger and faster, more calm while at the same time having more control of their mood if a situation called for something different. He took a sip himself, recognizing the jumble of effects as they hit him all at once. It was a mess, in a good way. “Try it. It’s good.”


    Euth ended up drinking the entire pot, even after Arthur explained that more tea wasn’t better in this case. After that, it was off to the races. Arthur couldn’t have held the kid still even if he wanted to. He was wired to the gills.


    “Hey, Onna,” Arthur said. “You want breakfast before we do this, or after?”


    “I’m a fan of after.” Mizu’s oldest and best friend, discounting Arthur, stood up and stretched. “Hunger keeps you alert.”


    Euth nodded. He had heard things like that before. They made sense to him, it seemed. Arthur had found that almost anything that sounded kind of badass did. But that knowledge was wasted on Arthur. There were only so many dark, gritty ways to talk about boba or one’s pregnant wife.


    They walked a good six miles to get to the dungeon Onna had in mind. Arthur watched as Onna started the walk at a slow, non-stat-augmented pace, let Euth get frustrated at the slowness of it, then fed him just enough rope in terms of walk-pacing to let him wear himself out a bit. By the time they got to the dungeon, the kid was huffing. To his credit, he hadn’t given up.


    “Let’s get in there,” Euth said, patting a Milo-provided dagger at his waist. “I’ll show you I can do this.”


    “It’s not about whether or not you can. You know that, right?” Onna pointed at Arthur. “He could have been a warrior. He shouldn’t do it, but he could have. Karbo himself thought so, once upon a time.”


    “Him?” Euth arched his eyebrows. “He’s a cook.”


    “He’s a very good cook. One of the most important cooks to have ever lived, I think,” Onna said. “You might consider what kind of fighter he would have been if he did that instead.”


    “Sure.” The kid still didn’t believe Arthur was a potential warrior-king, just as Arthur wasn’t sure he believed he was that important of a cook. But the child had also lost interest in talking about it anymore. “Anyway, I just want to get in there. Earn my class.”


    “You don’t earn them here,” Arthur explained. “I get that you did back on your old world. But it’s different enough that…”


    “That blah, blah,” Euth said, his voice rising a couple of decibels. “I’ve listened to you talk for a day, okay? And I’ve been polite. Now it’s time for what I get out of this.”


    The deal that had been struck, at least as far as Euth was concerned, was that he’d allow himself to be carted all across the demon territory, and that he’d allow people to choose his hosts for him. But in return, he would be allowed to spend a certain amount of time in dungeons, fighting. He was convinced, no matter how much he was told otherwise, that sufficient fighting would get him his class sooner.


    “Fine,” Onna said. “Let’s see what you can do, kid.”