A Null'ed

Free time. An odd concept, for the more you say it while you have it, the less you have of it. Even thinking about it technically is a waste of it, as a natural resource. Which is why I make sure to spend my "Free Time" productively, and by productively, I mean all things reading.

Everything from reading new stories, to pestering my favorite writers to write faster, to even volunteering to narrate any and all new series that might be coming. Any series but GlitterBright, namely because it is a fictional story about a nasally sounding Lich trying to romance me, well a glittering pixie stuck in human form. I could almost get into it, had I not actually met Rahul, the Lich who the character was based after. Thus, the idea of narrating a story about that Rahul trying to seduce me makes me vomit in my mouth, quite a lot.

Of course, Susan Whittle, the writer of such a story is also a member of the Alchemist Guild, so maybe she wants pixie vomit for some type of coagulant or other type of alchemical reagent.

Still, we have a guild hall set up that is the most magical place on all of World's End. Nope, not the SVC campus where I have to teach hundreds of students a day to not be robotic with the casting of spells, or when utilizing their Qi. Nor is it the dungeons that lead down to the neighboring Deolarian lands of the dead. Not the Kujo Kaverns, a place that started off as my own personal reading nook, but has since been taken over by shedding dogs, their pack of killer pups, and one time saving cleaning room that has the place designated as a sacrificial altar.

Nope, none of those buildings can compare to this building, my only wish that I've ever asked for as a high ranking guild member. What's the point of having all this power and prestige if you don't use it, which is exactly what I did.

Seventh Life Writers' Club

Dedicated by: Dr. Cassiopeia Spiritlight

There it is the building plaque that declares I can come here uninhibited like a haunting apparition seeking some long-lost lover. The lover in this case would be books, new books to be precise.

However, there is just one catch. One minor problem to this whole process.

These writers are lazy.

Some claim they have PTSD, others get lost by the apparent beauty and majesty of the area we live in, and are thus too lost to write. Others just not understanding about the number of resources that were apparently taken from my accounts to fund this place. A building that served as both a housing unit, complete with twenty-four hour food services, fresh coffee all day long, and as much space and comfort as possible, all to inspire people to write.

This hasn't worked, so I've gone one step further, and begun offering up my own ideas for how to help these writers get out of their own lethargy. I mean, what's the point of saving the world from destruction, if there aren't going to be new stories being created to enjoy the survival with.

Thus, why I began my contribution, by offering up story ideas that these authors could freely steal, claim as their own, so long as they stole it in the form of a story no less than five hundred thousand words.

"Anyone ever think about writing an Isekai that was started by a massive twenty car pile up that killed dozens of people?" I ask, wondering if my idea of getting dozens of different people from the modern world to an Isekai utopia had been tried before.

"You know that characters don't have to die by vehicular manslaughter to get Isekai'd, right? That there are other ways this can be performed?" Gwen cuts in on my power story session. Hearing her, I know she is right, but I can't help but roll my eyes at the comment.

"Come on, you know the old Isekai saying," I protest.

"What old Isekai saying?"

"Only getting hit by a grill, makes it real." I reply.

Groan.

My daughter and the other esteemed members of the Seventh Life Writers Club all groan. My only saving grace was the look of Susan Whittle who had a contemplative look to her as she stroked her chin.

"Hmm," Susan Whittle let out, stopping the groans from everyone as all eyes turned to her. "You know this would be kind of interesting, maybe have a Final Objective meets Isekai moment?"

Groan.

This time, I was the one who inwardly groaned. Yes, my worst nightmare, the only writer who liked my idea, was the worst of the writers we somehow managed to save. Not Mr. Raynes, nor Mr. Sanders, nor any of the other writers. Heck not even the editors seemed to like the idea, just Susan Whittle, my nemesis and author of GlitterBright, among other angsty teenage stories.

"Never mind, I think you all have proven your point, it's bad." I conclude, willing to give in on this idea. I have more to offer, so this is not the worst.

"No, no, I mean it. I think this idea has potential," Susan states, trying to make me understand that she isn't trying to patronize me for some reason, which only makes this worse.

"I know you think it has potential, and that's what makes me worried." I state.

"Oh, come on, you can trust me, I won't ruin such a great inspirational idea." Susan begins.

Hearing her, I just shake my head. "Can you just make me one promise?"

"For you, anything," Susan says, and apparently truly means it as her hands are clenched tightly as she seems to be fangirling over the sight of me here. Which shouldn't be a surprise, I am always here, but generally my time here always happens to coincide with the times when she is either late, has just left, or otherwise preoccupied.

In fact, had I not been trying to pitch my idea so fervently to the real writers, I might have been aware of her seeming want to stalk me. Normally, when I feel her presence, I vanish or find an excuse to leave, but I was otherwise preoccupied with stressing this idea.

Thus, it was just me and my nemesis, someone trying to make it so I could possibly fall for a nasally talking Lecherous Lich, no thank you. Yet, desperate times call for desperate measures.

"Can you please make it so they are not glittery?" I ask.

"But, how will the audience emotionally bond to them?" Susan asks.

"I don't know, the same way normal people can emotionally bond to people who aren't strippers in their spare time, they just talk and do things worth empathizing with." I reply.

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

There is a long moment of silence that stretches out between the two of us, before Susan regains her composure and replies, "but you glitter?"

Stunned.

I pause for a moment, being blind I can't really see myself.

"I do?"

At that, all of the other writers, and Gwen who was here with not one but all three first editions of Susan Whittle's newest series GlitterBright, all stare at me.

Then pausing, "I guess you mean the pixie dust?"

"No mom, you truly sparkle," Gwen replies opening up her third eye which can apparently see the world normally.

"Blah, that sounds disgusting," I say, and realize that the pixie dust that I constantly secrete, which is really just ephemeral energy particles that crystalize into wafer thin flakes, is probably distracting for people. I've also been told that the pixie dust does have a hallucinogenic effect, at least at first. Those who are around me a lot can build up an immunity. "Anyways, back to not being glittery."

Huff.

"Fine, they don't have to be glittery, but can one be about your girlfriend?" Susan asks.

"My what now?" I ask, totally confused by this question. I don't have a girlfriend, at least I don't think I do? Do it? No, last I checked I was still married.

Actually, let me check.

Name: (Cassie Cruise)

Dr. Cassiopeia Spiritlight

Age:

15

Race (Quintessence Ethereal Colossal Pixie):

Cosmic-Purple Eyed Mythical Quintessence Ethereal Colossal Pixie (Progenitor)

Primary Class:

Quintessence Ethereal Healer (Unique-Personal-Non-Trainable-Non-Transferable Class)

Secondary Class

Quintessence Ethereal Simulacrum Masters (Unique-Personal-Non-Trainable-Non-Transferable Class)

Tertiary Class

Divinely Akashic Qi Master (Unique-Personal-Non-Trainable-Non-Transferable Class)

level:

773 / 555 / 536

Marital Status:

Null

Pausing for a moment, I looked and saw the indicator and felt my heart lighten just a bit.

Null?

The word hits me, and for whatever reason it takes a moment for the full ramifications to truly sink in. Then pausing, I turn scanning the room for someone that I can share this momentous occasion with, only to find Gwen.

I pause, realizing that she might not be as happy with this decree as I am, so I do a mental scan of the area, and yes, there she is, the one person whom I want to talk about this with.

I am about to leave, when I realize Susan is apparently waiting for me to respond some way?

Trying to think back before this all happened, I paused then wave her off.

"Sure, go ahead with whatever you want, I don't . . ." I was about to say care but then seeing that Gwen is right there and a huge Susan Whittle fan, for lord knows why, I try to be amicable. Thus, I change my wording from care, what I really wanted to say, to something more benign. "To get in the way of your creativity."

With that minor crisis averted, I give my customary excuse.

"Now if you all will excuse me, I have some good news I need to tell someone." I reply.

Poof.

***

(Gwen)

Gwen's mother just left, there she was talking to the legend herself, Susan Whittle, a person who taught her how to deal with her own personal angst as a teenager. Seeing that her recent muse had left, Susan just looked momentarily confused for a moment, then slightly despondent.

"She's gone?" Susan asked, somewhat dejectedly.

"Yeah," Gwen responded watching her movements thanks to her own lesser version of Angel's Sight. While her version was technically inferior to the version her mother had, hers was the highest possible while still being able to use her third eye naturally.

"Do you think she will be back?" Susan asked, seemingly a bit dejected at the rejection by her muse.

"No, I think she will be distracted for hours at this rate," Gwen responded.

"Where did she go?"

"Where else, to talk to the Tailor and soon to be lead Mechanoid Enchanter." Gwen replied.

At that, Susan just nodded.

"Makes sense, those two do have a huge task before them," Susan replied.

"Task?"

"Yeah, together they are going to save the world," Susan replied excitedly.

"You really think so?" Gwen asked.

"We know so," Mr. Sanders replied, "it's a shame, honestly. Everyday that girl goes out, trains her hardest, letting us all know that she is beyond committed to preserving this," Sanders responded while gesturing around him, before continuing.

"Ensuring that everything we have is taken care of, knowing that she will do everything within her power to preserve us and our way of life. All she wants in return is to be able to read a few stories."

"The only problem is," Mr. Raynes cut in, "is that she reads so quickly that what took us weeks, she flies through in literal minutes. Also, I know I have the problem of thinking that nothing I write is worthy of her devotion."

Hearing that, Gwen paused, and tried to truly take in what the authors from the SLWC were saying. While she herself knew how much work her mother put in daily, she knew that the general population might not be aware of her efforts. Thus, hearing that even the authors heard of her efforts made her feel proud in a way she never thought possible. That was her mother that was inspiring not only hope, but inspiration in others, and ultimately a want to improve themselves and what they did in others. That in itself was commendable.

At that, there was a slight pause, before Susan looked around and saw that there were a stack of books in Gwen's hands.

"Wait, are those the hardback edition of my books?" Susan asked, a bit excitedly.

"Yeah, I had to special order them, but I think they came out nicely," Gwen replied happily as she pulled them up and displayed them. Not wanting to note that she was the one who crafted these leatherbound tomes herself, cutting apart soft back copies and then painstakingly attaching each sheet page by page with care and precision.

Had it not been for her mother's Enchanting + classes that were now available to almost everyone, she would have never been able to do such a task before. But now she could. Not only could she do this, but her mother had helped with the binding and teaching how to create a false sympathetic link between the old pages of a test book, and the pages on the spine of the new book.

While her mother had helped refine the process, everything after the first one was her own project. She didn't want her mother to say anything about these new stories, nor the fact that they were about her. Instead, she worked on them in secret, and only now after seeing Susan's face brighten at the display did all of her work finally mean something.

"Would you like a set?" Gwen asked, feeling giddy at the idea of sharing.

"YEAH!" Susan responded, as she delicately traced her fingers over the spines of the three books.

"Well, here you can take these, but in exchange I will ask you to sign my others?" Gwen asked.

"You have more?"

At that Gwen just awkwardly smiled, "yeah, apparently my mother isn't the only one who is OCD in the family. After I made one, I had to make more."

"Let me see those?" Mr. Raynes asked, curious as he too came over to view the books.

"They don't fly, or do anything magical like mother's books," Gwen responded as she let the other interested authors come to her and inspect her work.

"Nonsense, a book doesn't need to fly to be magical. It just needs to make you change your mindset. Even the slightest deviance, is a way to pull you out of your rut and get back to being productive," Mr. Sanders stated, seeing the embroidered book from all sides before handing it back. "Can I ask a favor?"

Hearing Mr. Sanders ask, Gwen was curious, "could I ask you to do the same for my work, when I finish my book?"

At this request, Gwen's eyes went wide, an action from her days back when she could still see normally, but the effect was still the same. "Yeah, I'd love to."

"Mine too?" Mr. Raynes asked, handing back Gwen's other example.

"Of course," Gwen replied, blushing slightly at the sudden praise. While none of these other writers could hold a candle to Susan, she knew that these writers finishing a work would be meaningful for her mother at the very least.

"Then it is decided, I'm going back to work," Mr. Sanders stated as he turned around.

"Me too," Mr. Raynes added as he also looked inspired.

As they left, Gwen just muttered to herself, "book covers, that's all it took to inspire mother's favorite writers. The idea of having their books made into elegant leatherbound editions."

Shaking her head, Gwen watched them leave, before turning back to face Susan.

Susan just stared at Gwen for a moment, their eyes locked and Gwen swore she could feel a weight between their shared gaze.

"So, where is she?"

"Where do you think?"

"With her . . ."

***

I arrived at the Kujo Caverns. Not my home, not the way it was before Kujo and his pack took the place as a secondary shelter, but with Penelope and a few magical modifications it felt like home.

Which in this case meant a place free of dog hair, viscera from hungry pups trying to devour defenseless monsters, and all types of accidents that can and will occur when you have new puppies who do not know what potty training is.

"I'm home!" I declare jokingly, but unlike most other times when I tell an untruth, or lie, I don't feel the need to correct myself. Realizing this, I pause and try to understand why, only after a few minutes do I realize what my apparent lack of reaction means. I had spoken the truth.

"Hey, welcome back!" Penelope chimes in excitedly, only to pause as she sees my face. "Everything okay?"

I paused, not ready to tell her that I thought of this place as home, I knew because I didn't receive magical backlash from the statement. Then shaking my head, I decided to go back to my real reason for being here. The fact that I needed to pass on a vital piece of information.

"Remember the other day, when Mallory noted that a number of people had gone on to other worlds?" I asked, trying to make sure she knew where this was coming from.

"Yeah, is everything okay?" Penelope asked, confused about my still confused look. Seeing her in such a way, I couldn't help but smile, trying to force myself to be happy, if only for her sake.

"Yeah, actually better than okay," I responded.

"Better than okay?"

"Yes, remember when we learned that Robi'dob'dob Usurper had gone to one of the Tier I Apron planets?" I responded.

"Yes, I do recall that. Was probably for the best as apparently, he had what three years to go while being digested by Zero?" Penelope asked.

"Exactly, he left, but at the time I was still noted as being married."

"I remember, what exactly is this about? Is he trying to pull you over there with him?" Penelope asked, suddenly concerned, as her mind went in a direction I hadn't even considered.

"No, no, and definitely no. Even if he did, I wouldn't leave here," I responded emphatically.

Hearing that response, Penelope relaxed, if only slightly.

"Okay, so what happened?" Hearing her question, I couldn't help but smile as I was ready with the perfect reply.

"I got, wait for it, my marriage a'null'ed." I reply, mouth spread wide with a smile as I know this is a banger of a reply.

"A what now?"

"Annulled. Well, technically the field next to Marriage status just states 'Null', but that is the same thing as saying I have a Null of a marriage. Which in past tense would make it a nulled marriage. Thus annulled."

At that Penelope just smiles with a slight cresting of her lips before shaking her head.

"Ah come on, it's never funny when you need to spell out the joke." I reply.

Chuckle.

At that Penelope breaks and smiles brightly before coming forward and embracing me with a hug. I am about to protest, but stop myself as I feel an indescribable sense of warmth emiating from her. Like a big comfy blanket, I hold her and let this moment sink in.

"Well congratulations, on having your marriage nullified," Penelope replied.

And like that, I was more determined than ever to save this world, it held my new home after all.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.