“Here she is,” Jiroh’s father said. His tone wasn’t disapproving, nor was it enthusiastic. Rather, it was as if he was discussing a cat walking in through the window.

Dallion could feel a deep sense of apathy in the room. It was coming from everyone, even those who were glad that she had returned. This had to be what it was like living on the ground.

Why did you sacrifice your life in the awakened world for this? Dallion asked, incapable of understanding.

“Yes, I am here,” Jiroh replied, keeping her calm. “These are the—"

Before she could finish, one of the clouds lumps in the room leapt up and darted at Dallion. The speed was incredible—faster than more enemies he had fought. Even with his layer vision, Dallion was only able to catch several frames of the thing. In those few moments he glimpsed a silhouette appear, as well as a large mouth full of alarmingly sharp and pointed teeth.

Instinct made him try to split into instances. Reality quickly let him know that was impossible. As Nil had warned him back in the awakened world, while any awakened power presented a considerable advantage, over-relying on it was a weakness.

“Stop!” Dallion ordered, combining his zoology and writing skills. His gamble was that the creature was similar to a dog, and would probably understand an order given to it in the language of a cutling.

He never got to learn if he was right, for Jiroh used her air currents to entangle the cloud mid-air, a step away from Dallion. The action was close to instantaneous, making several of the furies at the table look in her direction. Even the cloud—which now had acquired a semi-feline form—glanced at her with a sad expression and an innocent meow.

Cat, Dallion thought. Typical cat.

“No,” Jiroh said in a firm tone.

The cloud struggled a bit, then seeing that the fury meant business curled back up into a pure cloud form. That seemed to be good enough, for it earned the creature its release.

“What happened to no pets in the dining room?” Jiroh looked at her father.

The old fury, like all the rest, presented a visual paradox that Dallion was still having trouble with. Like everyone round the table, he had the clear majestic appearance of an ageless elf. He had perfect facial features, perfect skin, long white hair, and unnaturally clear green eyes. At the same time, he was dressed in what could only be described as a pair of baggy jeans and a loose shirt, all made of cloud fabric. One didn’t have to be a fury to tell that the material was old, cheap, and worn.

“Skye’s usually well behaved,” Jiroh’s father said, barely given her a glance. “She’s just forgotten you since you ran off for four years.”

“Three,” Jiroh corrected, making her way to the table.

A noticeable frown appeared on her mother’s face. From what Dallion could tell thanks to his music skill, everyone was surprised that she spoke back. That suggested that the thunder fury had been a lot meeker in the past. To an extent, there was even pride and envy, mostly among the older members of the family. The young ones—sisters and brothers, from what Jiroh had told Dallion—were nearly awestruck even if they wouldn’t be caught dead showing it.

“As I was saying, these are some friends of mine.”

“Some friends of mine,” one of the young furies mimicked, trying to keep from chuckling. “Funny accent, sis.”

Reading the atmosphere in the room, Dallion decided that now was the right time for him and Katka to take their seats. This was going to be one of the more challenging parts of the introduction. From what Jiroh had assured them, they would spend most of the time in one of the rooms freed by Jiroh’s sisters. However, it was expected that during the first introduction that any potential guests joined the host family for dinner.

Slowly, Dallion approached the cloud furniture. If there was anything that could go wrong, it would be now.

Reciting the names of the Moons out of habit, Dallion reached for the back of the cloud chair, all the time making sure that the sleeve of the robe he was on covered his hand completely.

“Stop!” Jiroh’s father said before Dallion could touch it. Silence filled the room. All eyes were on Dallion or the head of the family.

“Ati,” the fury said. “Bring the stone chairs.”

Dallion’s pulse quickened. Were they uncovered? That wasn’t good. In his mind, he started calculating the odds of him and Katka being sold off to a lab or local government. Given their level of poverty, one might suspect they’d do anything to get out of it.

“I almost joined a moon cult when I was young,” Jiroh’s father said as the chairs were brought it. They were massive enough that even an awakened would have a difficult time carrying it. Thanks to air currents, though, it was done by a child of ten. “Please,” he invited them, moving the cloud chairs out of the way.

“You honor us,” Dallion said, the first thing that came to mind.

“Ji got your accent from you,” her father noted. “What was she doing in your order?”

The funny thing was that it had happened the other way around. Dallion had copied Jiroh’s accent, which she had likely picked up on the cloud citadel.

“I thought you weren’t interested in such things,” Jiroh intervened.

“The day you vanished, you stopped pulling your weight. The money that was supposed to come didn’t, so we had to adjust.”

“Three marriages? You’re probably heartbroken.”

“Stupidity doesn’t break the heart.”

This was potentially the most passively-aggressive raw Dallion had seen in his life. Given that he knew what furies were capable of, a real fight could easily destroy the entire building and everything in it. Back in the awakened world, nearly all furies Dallion had come across had been highly subservient, due to unfortunate world circumstances. As mercenaries, though, he had heard they were highly sought after. Here, the society was a lot more civilized, so they had found new ways to express their temper.

“Guess they’ve taken from you.”

“A pity that’s the only thing they took.”

“No need to look at the path twice treaded.” Dallion pointed up at the ceiling in an attempt to put an end to the rather uncomfortable dinner conversation. The phrase in itself was the most stupid, jumbled combination of words he could find. However, he also used his music skills to add some calm in it.

The effect was marginal at best. At the same time, in his attempt to appear more mystical, Dallion had accidentally revealed part of his hand while pointing. In itself, that wasn’t terribly significant: the hand of a human was essentially the same as that of a fury; the iron metal gauntlet, on the other hand, wasn’t.

“Metal?” Jiroh’s father asked, astonished.

“I’m a forge apprentice.” Dallion immediately took advantage. “Only a notice. That is why we keep ourselves hidden from the world.”

Everyone stared at the metal fingertips visible beneath the sleeve. From their perspective, he had just transformed from a weird peddler with weird views of the world, to a rich eccentric wishing for a simpler life. With the local industry only lately starting to focus on metal and glass, only certain people could have it in large quantities, let alone use it for luxuries such as gauntlets. Even the cloud-cat changed form, curious of the shining metal.

“Let’s finish our food. The moon followers would like to rest,” Jiroh’s father said after a while. “Ati, Siri, you’ll be sharing a room with your sister.”

It was quite clear who he was referring to. To Dallion’s surprise, there were no arguments, even internal. Jiroh’s younger sisters accepted it as normal. If anything, they were even enthusiastic that their room had been chosen/

“And Ji, just because you’ve become a thunder doesn’t mean a thing,” her father continued. “While you’re here you’ll pull your weight.”

The rest of the meal continued in silence. The only point of interest was the cat creature. Extremely hostile moments ago, it was now acting like a perfect pet.

You can sense emotions too, can’t you? Dallion wondered, venturing to pet the creature on the head. As expected, it let him. There was a slight concern that it might attempt to rub itself into him, thus revealing that he wasn’t a fury, but Jiroh used a few air threads to keep it away. For everyone else, it looked like she was doing her best to keep the creature from being annoying.

The moment dinner was over, half of the furies disappeared along with the “dishes.” Jiroh remained for long enough to get the nod from her father, then took Dallion and Katka to their room on the second floor. From this moment, their stay had officially begun.

“You’ll have to be very quiet,” Jiroh whispered after she closed the door. “Furies’ hearing is almost as good as yours.”

For non-awakened, that was outright impressive.

Ignoring the cloud elements, the room resembled more the undersection of a bridge than an actual room. One door led in from the inside of the building, and at the same time, the exterior wall was missing altogether.

“I’ll make sure you aren’t cold,” Jiroh said.

“Breaking the fourth wall,” Katka noted, staring at the open space. “So, what now?”

“Now you two remain here while I try to figure this out.”

“How exactly? There was no indication the awakened world existed back in our world. Why should here be any different?”

“I don’t know about your world, but there was an extensive mythology selection of literature. I used to read a lot at my previous job. Now I’ll just have to read the slightly more specialized section.”

Not a bad plan. Of course, everyone could see the obvious problem. While it would be impossible for Dallion or Katka to get a job in any capacity, the same could almost be said for Jiroh herself. As far as the world was concerned, she wasn’t particularly educated, didn’t have any special skills or talents, and didn’t come from an important family. If only this world knew how wrong it was.

“Will you get your old job back?” Dallion asked.

“There’s no point. They don’t like timewasters. Not to mention, they can’t tolerate employees with an attitude. It was pretty bad before, and now I doubt I’ll be able to take it for half a week.”

“I see your point.” Dallion nodded.

With her current character, she’d probably drive management crazy.

“What about a research lab?” the mage asked. ”You have those, right? There’s a better chance they to find something we might use than books about ancient fairytales.”

“They’ll never let anyone like me near.”

“None of them?” Katka turned towards Jiroh, an annoying smirk on her face. “Don’t you have any confidential projects or secret societies you can impress with a piece of metal?”

Several threads of air gently formed around the mage’s neck, reminding her that the fury was in control.

“A piece of metal won’t be enough,” Jiroh replied. “Anyone with enough power can get their hands on metal.”

“But how many can forge it?” Dallion asked. “You can. Eury must have taught you at some point. Even without awakened skills you have the know-how and we’ll help you make the initial load of ingots to “give about.”

“You will,” Katka said. Both Dallion and Jiroh stared at her. “I don’t know forging.” The woman shrugged. “Learning it was a waste of time. I focused on spellcraft, and if there’s one thing that’s ideal for is finding links and patterns. Get me all the information this world has and if there’s a way out, I’ll find it without spending decades on it.”

That sounded like a good idea. The only reason Dallion was hesitant was because of the person who had suggested it. As far as he could tell, she wasn’t lying, but it was almost certain she had some other agenda in mind as well.

“Then we find a way into a library.”

“It’ll be a waste of time.” Katka looked out of the room at the clouds in the distance. “That’s the thing about secret societies. They have many names, do different things, but there are two constants: they always form in places where there are advanced societies, and they’re always the ones best informed.”