After dinner on the day the children departed for the Demon Kingdom’s Royal Capital, a group of us gathered in the guest room. The assembly included Dose, Raimeiren, Giral, Guronde, Mark, Suiren, Draim, Graffaloon, Hakuren, Rusty, and myself. We were there for a formal naming conference for the second child Rusty had recently brought into the world.
We had actually settled on names for both a boy and a girl long before the birth, but Rusty had raised an objection the moment the child arrived. "I feel a special power within this boy," she had explained. "I believe he deserves a name that reflects that."
Dose and the others had immediately agreed. We should have come up with a replacement right away, but with the parade and everything else going on, the matter had been pushed back until now. It wasn't that I had forgotten, by any means. Still, since everyone was calling him "Rusty’s son" or "Draim’s grandson" in the interim, I was eager to get it settled.
After a discussion that lasted until nearly midnight, we reached a decision: Kukulkan. Apparently, it was the name of a legendary dragon who possessed immense power but was a lover of peace. As long as Rusty was happy with it, I had no complaints. And I truly meant that—provided they didn't try to lengthen it into Hinokukulkan or Hinolukan later. The simple version, Kukulkan, was perfectly fine.
The next morning, breakfast felt lonely without Urza, Alfred, and Tiselle. However, Isree was still at the table. I didn't ask her why she was still lingering, as there was a legitimate reason she hadn't returned to the Academy with the others. It wasn't because I'd forgotten about her, either; I’m certain she would have spoken up if I had.
The reason she stayed behind was to settle her accounts with the dragons. I had assumed they settled their Mahjong debts after every game, but it seemed the arrangement had shifted to a deferred payment system without my realizing it. Actually, it was more of an exchange. The dragons had wagered various assets that Isree now technically owned, and they needed to swap those prizes for things of actual value to her.
It made sense; being handed a mountain range or a castle you’d never even heard of is more of a headache than a reward, especially when one considers the administrative responsibility. It was noble of her to be so considerate of the dragons’ circumstances, though I really wanted to tell the dragons to stop betting such things in the first place. Isree, for her part, hadn't intended to lose anything herself. Gambling is truly a terrifying thing.
After breakfast, the settlement began, and I was pulled into the negotiations. Or rather, the village was. I purchased the various assets Isree had won from the dragons, paying her in village produce. She didn't want the payment all at once, requesting instead that we send reasonable amounts at the start of each season. In practice, it just felt like the list of people I send seasonal gifts to had grown by one.
As for the items I bought from her, the dragons had no intention of buying them back. They suggested that if the properties were in the way, I could simply give them to Hiichiro, Lananon, Hikaru, Himiko, or Kukulkan once they grew up. I had my doubts about saddling the children with "clutter," but the dragons insisted that these prizes carried honor and titles that would be well-received.
"I'll keep them for now, then," I said. "But please, stop wagering things like that."
I turned back to Isree. "What should we do about that barrel of gold coins I'm holding for you? I don't mind keeping it here, but..."
We decided to move it to the village storehouse. I offered to write her a receipt, but Lu pointed out that paper is easily lost or forged. Instead, I searched the storehouse for something to serve as collateral and found a slender, elegant bracelet with a focus on design. Lu confirmed it was of similar value to the deposit. As it turned out, the piece was actually a magic tool, so I asked Lu to teach Isree how to use it. Isree was set to head back to the Royal Capital that evening when Beezel arrived to pick her up. I made sure to warn the dragons not to lure her into any more Mahjong games before then.
Around noon, Versa returned from Village Five. She usually came back every day, but she had been so focused on her writing lately that she’d set up a workshop there and practically barricaded herself inside. That was why she’d missed the parade. Again, it wasn't that I'd forgotten to invite her—I’d been sending her updates almost daily, and the Civil Official Girls had visited her multiple times for consultations. I wasn't about to let her complain about missing out.
She was startled to see the Giant Crow, the White Swan, the Black Swan, and the Peacock Couple, but she confirmed she didn't know them personally—though she was well aware of the White Swan's reputation for having a "bad habit with men." I asked if there was any way to handle the bird, and she told me to just treat her like a natural disaster and give up.
Later that afternoon, the Peacock Couple performed a graceful flight display. There was something about the way they moved that made the onlookers feel auspicious, as if we should be offering prayers of thanks. I had to tell the Angel Race not to get competitive about it, and I had to stop the Giant Crow from trying to outdo them. I also had to order the White Swan to sit back down. Meanwhile, the Eagle and Aegis stayed perfectly quiet.
It occurred to me then that Malbit, Ruincia, and Suarlou had been here for quite some time since the parade was delayed. When I brought it up, they pointedly looked away. Ruincia has really settled into village life; I knew she’d become close with her grandson, but I warned her that people would stop liking her if she didn't do her job. Mark and Suiren were leaving soon, so I suggested the angels catch a ride with them.
That was when they mentioned there was an internal "battle" to decide who would get to stay behind. I had thought it was already decided that Razmaria and Reginleiv would stay, but apparently, the matter was still up in the air. I told them to let me know the result, but warned them not to damage the fields during their struggle. And no, I wasn't going to let them have any of the horns from Kuro’s children.
Progenitor-san arrived that night looking exhausted. It had been a while since we’d seen him. He lamented missing the parade, but I reminded him that his primary duties were important. He had managed to finish the major parts of his work, but he still couldn't truly relax and had to head back right after dinner. I suggested he spend his time with Versa instead of me. She was watching us from behind a pillar, likely too shy to approach. Then I remembered—I had to maintain a respectful distance from him when she was around. I made my escape.