The grandfather clock in the dressing room neared five o’clock. Shehuang smoothed the lapels of my wedding tuxedo, the deep blue fabric contrasting sharply with the frilly white shirt she had helped me button.
"Master, look here," Shehuang chimed, a mischievous glint in her golden eyes. She held out her palms, presenting three gleaming pieces of jewelry. "I used my Greater Metal Utility magic to carve your names onto these for the wives. Take a look, and make sure you put mine on me before you head out."
In the world of Myst, the Element Utility school of magic was legendary. It was the ultimate toolkit—just as handy for sweeping a floor as it was for surviving a battlefield. The spells scaled neatly by tier:
Lesser Element Utility: Limited only by imagination and the user's element. It allows for minor physical manipulations. Air mages whip up light breezes or stoke campfires. Fire mages heat up meals or warm chilly limbs. Earth and metal mages sharpen blades, etch stone, or draw wire from raw ore. Life mages accelerate natural healing, manipulate plants, and tame simple bugs or small beasts.
Greater Element Utility: Elevates the lesser effects and projects them at a distance of ten feet per Magic Circle level. Air mages can fly slowly or breathe underwater. Fire mages fuel industrial forges or melt enemy steel over time. Metal mages shape solid rock like soft clay or craft detailed weapons out of thin air. Life mages mend wounds like a dedicated healing spell, sprout full-grown trees in under a minute, and walk through dense briars unhindered.
Area Utility: Acts as a massive force multiplier, casting greater-tier effects across an entire battlefield—spanning ten feet per Circle level in every direction. Air mages clear toxic gasses or grant flight to entire squads. Fire mages instantly quench roaring conflagrations or melt iron walls. Earth mages raise massive fortresses from the dirt. Life mages purge environmental poisons and flash-grow lush gardens in seconds.
The actual mana cost of these spells always depended on the physical scale of the miracle being performed.
Turning back to Shehuang, I examined her handiwork. Two of the items were delicate, feminine bracelets forged of gold and silver. Etched proudly across the bands in Western Common script were the words: Husband, Loki Sky.
But instead of the dangling earrings I had purchased for her, Shehuang held up her own elegant neck-piece. Suspended from the chain was a heavy pendant, bearing the exact same inscription—except this one was written in Eastern Common.
Through our summoner bond, a wave of eager anticipation washed over me. She tilted her chin up, practically begging me to fasten it. Caught up in the warmth of the moment, I leaned forward.
Click.
The latch snapped shut around her throat. I froze. Up close, the elegant piece looked suspiciously like a high-end leather dog collar from Earth. It gave her the distinct aura of a very beautiful, very dangerous pet.
"Oh my! This makes me Master’s first official wife," Shehuang giggled, cutting off my sudden panic. "I was bad and cut right in line, haha! Mwah!"
Before my brain could process the trap, her arms locked around my neck. She pulled me down into a breathless, dizzying kiss, her agile tongue checking my dental work with terrifying speed. For an Air element mage, I came dangerously close to suffocating before I managed to gently break away.
"Hold on," I gasped, catching my breath. "We didn’t sign a marriage contract."
"Summoner contract!" she countered instantly.
"We didn't share a traditional cup of wine."
"We just shared spit."
"We haven't even shared a bed!"
Shehuang grinned, an expression of pure, unadulterated triumph. "Let’s see where I wake up in the morning."
"Wait a second," I stammered, looking down. "You didn't even buy me wedding jewelry!"
"Oh, really?" She leaned in, her voice dropping to a teasing purr. "Then what is that around your neck that I slipped on during our kiss, Maaaaaaaaaster?"
I looked down. Thanks to her terrifying sleight of hand, a thick gold chain adorned with ancient Eastern runes now rested heavily against my collarbone.
I looked into her smug golden eyes and sighed defeat. "Fine. You win. But Sylvia is still the first legal wife. I won't budge on that."
Shehuang stepped back, smoothing her dress. "Ha, legalities are just a noble headache. I am discreet. As long as you and I know the truth in our hearts, this mistress is perfectly happy."
Bracing myself for a chaotic future with my very first summon, I turned toward the heavy double doors. It was time for the reception.
The grand ballroom was a blur of silk, gold trim, and clinking crystal. Sylvia, breathtaking in her blue-and-white gown, locked her hand around my left arm and never let go. She paraded me through clusters of high-ranking Sky Duchy nobles and childhood friends, ensuring every soul in the room knew I was spoken for. Shade followed a few paces behind us like a silent, obsessive shadow, though she spent a large portion of the banquet speaking quietly with my mother.
The speed of it all made my head spin. We were actually married. The vows we had exchanged earlier echoed in my mind.
“Sylvia Sky,” I had said, raising my glass before the crowd. “I, Loki Sky, take this wine and gladly become your husband. I will share in your troubles and trials. But I have one condition for my beautiful wife... our child must take my last name.”
Most of the rigid nobles hadn't understood the joke, but Sylvia had simply suppressed the urge to smack my forehead in front of the court.
“Loki Sky,” she had responded, her eyes soft but fierce. “With this wine, I become your most willful and devoted wife in life and death. As for our child's last name... we will settle that later.”
We had kissed, and I had slipped the gold bracelet onto her wrist. In return, she had presented me with a gold Space Ring, inset with deep blue sapphires and beautifully etched: First Wife, Sylvia Sky.
Then came Shade.
“Shade Winter,” I had repeated, lifting a second glass. “I, Loki Sky, take this wine and gladly become your husband to share in your troubles and trials. Looking at you now, I realize I was the smartest, bravest, and luckiest eight-year-old on Myst.”
The icy exterior of the deadly assassin had cracked, giving way to a genuine, breathtaking smile. Tears glistened in her eyes.
“Loki Sky,” she whispered. “With this wine, I become your most persistent and devoted wife in life and death. Thief Loki... I give you all of my treasures.”
After our kiss, I fastened her silver bracelet. She placed a matching, simple gold band onto my left wrist next to Sylvia's ring. And just like that, the ink was dry. I had two official wives, and one incredibly sneaky unofficial one.
"Excuse me, Duchess Sky. Do you have a moment?"
The voice broke my reverie. We turned to find a sharp-featured, blonde woman in a striking red dress. Her accent was different from our Norse-inflected Western Common; it carried the clipped, haughty cadence of Old English from the capital.
Beside me, Sylvia’s grip tightened on my arm until it bruised. A threat.
"Well, hello, Vice Principal Lisa Swallow," Sylvia said, her voice dropping to a polite, freezing temperature. "What brings you all the way from the capital?"
I recalled the gossip my mother had shared. Lisa Swallow hadn't been invited. She was a known lackey for Prince Vali Balder. She had hand-delivered the Royal Decree earlier that summer, lingering in the Northern Sky Duchy specifically to ambush Sylvia.
"Prince Vali Balder tasked me with awaiting your positive reply," Lisa said, her eyes flitting toward me with open disdain. "Though I must admit, this celebration was entirely unexpected."
My blood boiled. This woman is trying to steal my wife right in front of me. My brain tried to formulate a diplomatic insult, but my mouth overrode the controls entirely.
"I'm pretty sure the Duchess told your Prince to get lost because she fell in love with me," I announced, my voice booming across the immediate vicinity. "Right?"
The surrounding conversations died instantly. Dozens of eyes snapped to our group. Lisa Swallow flushed a deep, furious crimson. I realized immediately that I would probably regret making an enemy of a vice principal before school even started, but Sylvia didn't look angry at all.
Instead, she delivered the killing blow.
"I had to marry my husband, Mage-Knight Sir Sky," Sylvia announced to the quiet room, her voice carrying flawlessly. "My estate's healer confirmed my pregnancy at noon today. Please inform Prince Vali Balder that my heart, soul, body, duchy, and baby belong entirely to Sir Sky."
The room descended into a stunned, absolute silence.
On Myst, conception for high-circle mages was an mathematical nightmare. A woman’s fertility window lasted a mere eight to ten hours a month, and the odds plummeted further based on the father’s magic level. But unlike Earth, the specialized Diagnose spell could detect a fertilized egg within hours of conception.
Sylvia leaned in, her breath warm against my ear. "Your archery accuracy was one hundred percent with only a single shot, my dear. You’re amazing."
My jaw hung open. My rogue mouth fired off one last unscripted line. "Can Myst even handle my child?!"
A few scattered allies offered their congratulations, but judging by the glares from the noble bachelors in the room, most of the men present wanted me dead.
Later that night, the heavy oak doors of the master bedroom shut out the rest of the world. The grand scale of the day seemed to shrink down to the three of us.
"Hey, rules are rules, Loki, Shade," Sylvia said, propping her head up with one hand as she reclined sideways on the massive bed. Her silver hair spilled beautifully over her silk nightgown. "I have to sleep in the bed because of my condition, so just go ahead. I'll just watch."
I tried not to stare at the allure of the silk, my mind still reeling from the fact that a tiny life was already growing behind her flat belly.
Shade, however, had a very different plan.
With a sudden burst of speed that caught both Sylvia and me off guard, Shade mounted me right there on the mattress. In one swift motion, she yanked the heavy blue silk sheets completely over our heads, creating a dark, private tent.
"You can't watch," Shade called out to the voyeur on the other side of the fabric, her cheeks burning hot in the dim light. "Only listen... I want a baby too. Loki, help me do this. I'm inexperienced."
Outside our silk fortress, Sylvia simply shook her head with a fond smile. She reached for a book on her nightstand, settling in for a quiet evening. She stroked her belly, whispering softly to the quiet room, "Now that the future of the Northern Sky Duchy is secure, mother can spend all her time loving your father."
Beneath the sheets, I would love to report that my encounter with the deadly assassin was a masterclass in romance. But between her nerves and my own excitement, our first round ended far too quickly. The second attempt was a slight improvement, but as is the case with all beginners, I left the field feeling thoroughly unsatisfied and eager for more practice.
Eventually, exhaustion claimed the room. The three of us drifted off to sleep in the quiet dark—with me tucked securely, literally, under my Shade.
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