That One Time I Married A Crazy Goddess

The chaos of the chase began, and Draeven was already on their heels. His body moved with a nervous energy, his smoke-wrapped form agile and unpredictable. He didn't stop to think—he hated thinking in moments like this. He hated talking, too, but he muttered under his breath now as the children darted ahead of him, their faint outlines shimmering with magic. 

"Why… why do they always run?" he grumbled, his voice barely audible, his tone filled with a kind of awkward frustration. "Why can't they just… just give it back?..I hate this." 

The children giggled as they turned sharply into a narrow street. One of them, the smallest, slapped a glowing hand against a nearby barrel, and it exploded into a burst of sharp, glittering shards. The shards hovered for a moment, then shot toward Draeven like a swarm of tiny, magical needles. 

'I can't go all out…I don't wanna attract too much attention. But I can't let them take what I had. It's valuable…'

 Draeven didn't falter. The smoke that wrapped around his body surged outward, swirling like a living storm. The needles were caught mid-air, spinning harmlessly in the vortex of smoke before dissolving into nothing. Without missing a step, Draeven twisted his body unnaturally, using the momentum to propel himself forward like a shadowy arrow. 

The children screamed in unison. 

"What?! He just—he didn't even stop!" 

"He's too fast!" 

"Shut up and run!" 

"He has like, smoke magic or somethin'!"

The streets of Svarthelm became ar rapid blur of movement, noise, and light. The children were smart—too smart for their own good. One of them waved their hands, conjuring a small, translucent wall of magical glass. It shimmered faintly, refracting the light around it to blend into the environment. A normal pursuer would have slammed face-first into it. But Draeven's smoke tendrils extended outward, brushing against the illusion like probing fingers. 

"Ah. I seen that before," Draeven muttered, his voice low and reluctant. He hated talking, even to himself, but frustration bled through. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the smoke forward in a sharp, cutting motion. The glass shattered into harmless fragments, and he leapt through the gap without breaking stride. 

The children were visibly panicking now, their giggles turning into frantic shouts. 

"He's not falling for anything!" 

"Okay, okay, Plan C!" the smallest one yelled. 

"What's Plan C?!" 

"Just do it!" 

The smallest child gestured wildly, and the cobblestones in front of Draeven seemed to ripple like water. Without warning, the ground turned into a shifting, slippery surface, as if coated in invisible oil. 

Draeven skidded slightly but recovered almost immediately, his smoke extending downward to anchor his feet. The tendrils acted like additional limbs, curling and gripping the ground to stabilize him as he continued forward. 

"Plan C sucks!" one of the kids shouted. 

"Shut up! Cammy came up with it!"

"So?!"

Before the children could try another trick, Kivorn appeared behind Draeven, finally catching up. His long strides were almost lazy, his staff casually balanced in his hand as he ran. 

"Draeven," Kivorn called in his slow, tired tone. "You're really gonna burn all your energy on this? They're just kids." 

Draeven didn't even glance back, his focus entirely on the chase. "They're little thieves," he muttered quickly, his voice strained. "It looks weird chasing after children, d-doesn't it?"

"It does, yeah."

"We're not perverts, are we?"

"Hell no. They stole, so we're getting it back." Kivorn yawned.

He twirled his staff once and slammed it lightly into the ground. A faint glow emanated from the staff's tip as vines sprouted upward, weaving themselves into a mask around his face. 

Moments later, a similar mask began to form over Draeven's head—thin, organic tendrils of wood wrapping around his face. 

Draeven groaned audibly, his voice muffled now. "Why… why wood? Why can't it be fire? Fire would be cooler…" 

Kivorn rolled his eyes, his tone slow and teasing. "Fire? Really? In the middle of a crowded city? You wanna light yourself up like a lantern?" 

"Yes," Draeven muttered under his breath, looking away.

"Huh? What was that?" 

"Nothing," Draeven said quickly, his voice rising in nervous frustration. 

Kivorn smirked, his tone dripping with lazy sarcasm. "Did they take what I think they took from you…?"

"Th-The stone..yes. I can't let anyone have it."

The children turned another corner, this time darting down a street filled with merchant stalls. The area was packed with nobles browsing expensive wares, automatons patrolling calmly among them. The children moved like ghosts, slipping between the stalls and blending into the crowd. 

Draeven slowed slightly, his smoke retracting as he surveyed the area. His sharp eyes darted from face to face, scanning for the faint shimmer of magic that betrayed the children's presence. 

"They're hiding," he muttered, his voice low and almost annoyed. "I hate hide-and-seek…" 

Kivorn strolled up beside him, his staff resting casually on his shoulder. "You're overthinking it. Just follow the noise." 

As if on cue, one of the children giggled from behind a nearby fruit cart. Draeven's head snapped in that direction, and without hesitating, he vaulted over the cart, his smoke tendrils snapping outward to push it aside gently without disturbing the merchant. 

"Damn it!" one of the kids shouted. "He's too fast!" 

"Split up!" the smallest child yelled. 

The group scattered, each one darting in a different direction. Draeven hesitated for a fraction of a second, his smoke swirling around him uncertainly. 

"Go left," Kivorn said lazily, pointing with his staff. "I'll handle the other two." 

Draeven nodded quickly, his focus narrowing again as he pursued the smallest child. The kid turned sharply into an alley, slapping a glowing sigil onto the wall as they passed. The sigil erupted into a burst of sticky, glowing threads that filled the narrow space like a spider's web. 

Draeven didn't slow down. The smoke around him condensed into sharp, blade-like edges that sliced through the threads as he barreled forward. 

The child glanced back, their eyes wide with disbelief. "You've gotta be kidding me!" 

Meanwhile, Kivorn pursued the other two children with an almost lazy grace. His staff glowed faintly as he summoned small bursts of wind, using them to propel himself forward with minimal effort. 

"Y'know," he called to the fleeing kids, his tone slow and almost bored, "if you just give up now, we can skip the whole dramatic chase thing." 

"Not a chance!" one of the kids yelled, conjuring a small ball of light and hurling it back at him. 

The children laughed together, clapping and giving each other high fives.

Kivorn sighed, twirling his staff to deflect the attack. "Kids these days…" 

Seeing the children happy and smiling with genuine joy, it made Kivorn stare at them blankly. He used to be like that as a child, until his joy was stolen. Anytime Kivorn would see people laughing or enjoying anything…hurt his heart. His goal of becoming joyful again a hair's breadth away…but always seemed so far.

'Not now, not now….man I miss it. But I can't express it. Fake laughs, fake smiling, feel like a machine. Like those automatons. Feel like a soulless piece of bread. What worth is there for something that's hollow? Like I am..?'

The chase finally came to a head in a narrow alleyway. The children skidded to a stop, their backs against a dead-end wall. Draeven and Kivorn arrived moments later, both masked and standing side by side. 

"Now what?" Draeven muttered, his voice muffled and awkward. "I hate… I hate cornering people. This feels weird. Cornering CHILDREN."

Before Kivorn could respond, glowing red eyes appeared above them. The group looked up to see automatons perched on the rooftops, their glowing eyes fixed on the children. 

"STAND DOWN FOR INVESTIGATION," the automatons intoned in unison, their voices flat but menacing, their engines within them humming and making their bodies jerk slightly every few seconds.

The children panicked, yelling back at the machines. "We didn't do anything!" 

"This isn't fair!" 

"You're just stupid tin cans!" 

Draeven shifted nervously, glancing at Kivorn. "Uh… this is bad, right? W-We can't fight here.."

Kivorn responded, "Uh huh. We're screwed."

'A fight happening now…these kids will die.'

Suddenly, a voice rang softly between Kivorn and Draeven. "Please, excuse them." 

The group turned sharply, their eyes widening as a figure appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Mother Faera, dressed in a black priest's robe, knelt in front of the children with an eerie calm. Her dark blue hair was tied into a neat bun, freckles on her face, and her deep purple eyes glimmered with an unsettling intensity. 

Draeven and Kivorn both stepped back instinctively, startled by her sudden appearance. 

"How—" Draeven started, but Kivorn cut him off with a low whisper. 

'She's fast!'

The automatons stared at Faera for a long, tense moment. The air felt heavy, as if a fight could break out at any second. 

Finally, the automatons' eyes flickered. "WARNING ISSUED. DISENGAGING." 

The children let out audible sighs of relief as the automatons climbed back onto the rooftops and disappeared. 

"Thank you, Mother Faera!" one of the children said excitedly. 

But Faera turned to them with a chillingly sweet smile. "Oh, don't thank me yet, dears." 

Before anyone could react, Faera grabbed the nearest child by the ear and bent them over her knee, delivering a loud smack!

"Ow!" the child cried. 

"Did I not tell you," Faera said calmly, spanking the next child, "to stop stealing from strangers?!" 

The children yelped and protested, but Faera kept spanking them, her tone never losing its unsettling sweetness. "And what do you have to say for yourselves? Hm?" 

"Sorry, Mother Faera!" one of them cried. 

Draeven turned away, his face red with embarrassment. "What do we do?"

Kivorn crossed his arms, watching the scene with a lazy smirk. This is entertaining." 

Faera finally stood, dusting off her hands as the children rubbed their sore behinds. "Now, apologize to these gentlemen," she said sternly, motioning to Draeven and Kivorn. 

The children muttered half-hearted apologies, avoiding eye contact. 

Draeven waved awkwardly. "Uh, it's… fine. Really." 

Kivorn said, "Thanks…I guess."

Draeven whispered to Kivorn, "She reminds me of Illyana."

"Me too."

'Earlier she appeared without a trace, she has to be strong.'

One of the children approached Draeven, and handed him a stone that resembled a gray rusty gate, saying, "Here you go, sorry."

Draeven took it softly, nodding, "Thanks."

Faera peacefully said, "My apologies once again for these children. These kids are a part of the orphanage I run. I have some influence here, which is why you were able to get a pass. Though I don't doubt you could take down a few automatons before dying brutally, yeah?"

Draeven asked, "Who are you? If you don't mind me asking. Sorry for asking so abruptly.."

"I am Mother Faera. Head of the Choir, orphanage for children who are without parents, and we strive to create a better future for these children. They do deserve a good future right? No matter what they do, right?"

Draeven and Jivorn nodded slowly, both of them confused and a little tense. This random woman was releasing an aura that basically said, "I could kill you both, but I'm too nice to do it." Well, that's what Kivorn thought about Faera.

Mother Faera continued, "Influence is everything here in Jörvaldr. The Choir was created by the old king of Jörvaldr. My ancestors kept it going as a way to help children to become better and help them secure a good life. Now about you two…"

Faera looked at Draeven and Kivorn with a straight face, asking, "You're here looking for someone, aren't you?"