Chapter 455

Misha’s first thought upon regaining consciousness was just how much more relaxing than expected her nap had been. With the twins beginning to move a lot more now, she had a hard time sleeping lately, and even a few hours at a time was a blessing.

But today it felt like she had gotten a full night all at once, and nowhere on her body ached or complained when she rolled onto her other side to look out the window and check the time.

“Vala, what time is it?” She asked, not quite willing to open her eyes just yet.

“It’s the third hour past sunrise Miss, but Lady Vala is not here, my name is Nyarla, and I have volunteered as your nurse for the day.” A gentle and pleasant voice informed her, making Misha open her eyes slowly.

The first thing she noticed was the eyes. The girl’s eyes are gloss black with little gold floating specks in them, and absolutely stunning contrasted against her alabaster skin.

The second thing Misha noticed was that this girl was an Ancient. Barely a meter and a half tall, but with large pale wings, and a half dozen tentacles where each arm should be. Somehow the tentacles where her mouth should be looked charming and pleasant, whereas Cain’s always looked vaguely threatening, but that could be the way they twisted together, the way that Cyrene wrung her hands when she was nervous.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Nyarla.” Misha smiled, then looked past her at the ornately carved room and realized that she was not at home.

“Might I ask where I am and how I got here?”

Nyarla nodded rapidly, then waved her hand to project a three-dimensional image in the air above the bed.

“You are in the third Princess’s Palace, in the west wing of the imperial compound, which sits in the center of the city of Obscurus, which is a pocket dimension hidden within the Divine Plane. It is where the surviving Ancients escaped to after the war with the Gods.” The nurse informs her proudly.

None of those words helped clear up Misha’s confusion at all. Well, at least none after the name of the city. From the sound of it, she is not in the same world where she was transferred, and there are actual ancients here, not just one single one remade by the System.

“And how and why was I brought here?” Misha prompts when the nurse stops talking.

“Oh, that part. I was asleep for that part, but it seems that the collective decided that your children would be in too much danger and unable to grow properly in that world, so they took action to bring you here.”

So, she was abducted out of her bed? But for her own good? No, wait, this girl said that they only did it for the children. So she herself might not be safe here after all.

Nyarla frowns at Misha’s changing expressions before speaking again. “It’s really weird not to have a two-way mental link with you. Can I use telepathy to read your thoughts instead of waiting for you to speak?”

The question startles Misha but also makes her realize that Nyarla isn’t speaking out loud, the voice is entirely in her mind since the species has no vocal cords.

“That’s a bit strange to humans, but I suppose if it makes you happy it’s not hurting anything.” Misha allows and the tentacles on Nyarla’s face make a wriggling motion that she interprets as happiness.

“Oh, that’s what you were worried about. No need, the collective recognized you as the wife of the injured ancient in the ancestral world, so nobody would even dream of harming you. Unlike most species, we don’t have any infighting. We do have snarky comebacks, but no physical fighting is allowed.” The nurse giggles.

Misha realized right away that they had misinterpreted Cain’s status and identity, so she tried to close out the thought, but wasn’t fast enough to stop Nyarla from noticing.

“He wasn’t injured, he is a new Ancient, created by the Laughing God himself? That is amazing. Oh, I shouldn’t have thought about that, you still need your rest, but you are about to have a lot of visitors.”

The girl’s thoughts are a rapid stream of consciousness in Misha’s mind, overwhelming her own until Nyarla suddenly stops and stares at her.

“That explains why you only have one track of thoughts, he doesn’t know the spell yet, does he? I will fix that right away. If he was born an Ancient it would have come naturally, and he would have granted it to you anyhow, so I’m not breaking any rules at all, nope not me.”

The light and mischievous voice entered Misha’s mind seconds before a second stream of quiet conversation does, making Misha gasp at all the welcoming voices in her mind. Not one of them seems upset about her being here. Instead, the general consensus is that a pregnancy is to be celebrated.

“When was the last child born here? Everyone seems really excited to see babies?” Misha asks quietly, forgetting that anyone who cares to listen in can hear what she is saying.

“The last one? I suppose it was about eleven hundred years ago? Druv is the youngest, but most of that generation isn’t fully trained and ready to have children of their own yet, so it has been a while. That’s why everyone is so excited. Well, that and they thought there was another survivor, but they will be extra, extra excited to hear that the Laughing God made a new friend for us. I haven’t heard about that happening ever.”

Nyarla’s happiness is contagious, and Misha finds herself smiling, despite the fact that she has undeniably been abducted into a different world.

“Cain, my husband, for lack of a better term, does he know, or is he freaking out about how I’ve been taken?” Misha asks, wondering what exactly happened.

Nyarla’s tentacles pat Misha’s head gently and she shakes her head. “No worries, the elders left him a message letting him know what was going on and that you were safe here.”

In the second track of her consciousness, Misha can see the content of the letter as someone thinks about it and she has to stifle a laugh. No way did he take that abrupt little message well. He’s likely working hard right now to find a way to break into the city and take her back, even though it seems impossible.

“Time flows a bit differently between realms, so he might be here right away, or it might be a few centuries, but you must be hungry, you slept half a day, and growing children need food. Do you know any of the celestial beasts? Do you have a favorite flavor?” The dainty Ancient asks, opening a portal to somewhere that smells like smoked meat and spices.

“I don’t even know what a Celestial Beast is, but whatever that spice that smells like cinnamon and sunshine is, I wouldn’t mind trying that,” Misha suggests, getting a sudden craving for food that she doesn’t even know the name of.

“Coming right up. I took the liberty of going through your thoughts to see the foods that you do know and like, so I can try to emulate them with the things that we have here. The ancients above Immortal Realm don’t have to eat at all, they just do it because they enjoy it, so we have a really wide variety of flavors available, as well as all the things that the elders prepared once they knew that we would have children and an expectant mother coming.”

Misha rolls her eyes at the overwhelming sense of motherly concern in the collective thought, realizing that most of the ancients could be compared to excited potential grandparents with unlimited resources and way too much time on their hands.

There is a brief objection to her assertion by a few of the minds, but the consensus is that she isn’t wrong. Even if she isn’t quite right, she definitely isn’t wrong.

That is followed up by a very matronly Ancient entering the room with the two of them, looking down on Nyarla like a troublesome teenager.

“Good Morning Miss Misha. I am Eve, Elder of the Ancient Race. It is a pleasure to finally meet you, and I do hope that our customs haven’t offended you. I looked in on your planet after we transferred you here, and found that things are done very oddly there. Who would have thought that a young couple alone would be expected to raise children instead of bringing young mothers to the elders until the children are old enough for school?”

Even the Elder’s thoughts sound like a grandmother, giving off a sense of eternal wisdom and unfathomable experience.

“When did the Ancients start that practice?” Misha asked the elder, wondering if it is something they started to help regrow the species after the War with the Gods.

“I decided it with the first children born after the species took corporeal forms. I was far too busy for children of my own, but they’re just so adorable. Who wouldn’t want them around?” The ten-meter-tall monstrous-looking creature responded in a tone so happy that it was nearly impossible to be mad at her.

“And when might that have been?” Misha asks curiously.

“Let’s see, it was after we became solid, but before we started on the bipedal species, after the aquatic ones, so about 60 million years ago, give or take a few eons? Time is a bit strange like that, it flows differently depending where you are, and I traveled a lot during those years, looking for materials.” Eve answers and Misha can actually see the thoughts she was using for her mental math flow through the shared link.

“Questions can wait. First, it’s breakfast time.” Nyarla cheers, using her many tentacles to bring a feast in through the portal to the kitchen.