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Graff was misbehaving.

Oh, compared to the sort of misbehaving he once got into, it was rather tame, but nonetheless, the fact remained that Graff was indeed misbehaving. He had left for the market rather early, thought not to work – Saljin had told him he could take the day after the rune settled off, but still.

The misbehaving part was the fact that he had left so early that no one really noticed him. He had taken not to the roof, but to the actual market itself. Not being twitchy when on ground level was still something he was getting used to, but it was a process. A slow one, but a process nonetheless.

He still prefered to jump roofs, of course, but trying to do so right at this moment would likely end badly. He body was still sore, for one, and the fact remained that he had no idea how to deal with the added height and bulk. Not that he was fat, quite the opposite – which was strange, given that he had been lanky, probably even too lanky, all his life.

There was some sense of wonder with being able to walk the market without anyone recognizing him. No one got on their guard while he approached, and no one followed his movements though half-glaring eyes. It was... refreshing, definitively so.

Maybe they were all right, after all. It was much better this way.

The only thing closely resembling a bad reaction was the face of the poor woman when he showed up at the hair dresser. She outright asked him if he had escaped a barn, and more or less shoved him in the chair, which had simply been amusing. Graff had indeed been aware that he looked like a mess, that was what he was there to begin with !

Eventually, the woman would stop her fussing and let him go. The bather had been an easy one, since all that was truly needed was to make the cut he'd made even and actually presentable. The next step was clothing – which was really a simple matter for him. Mian measured him, and then he was simply content with having some things fitted, rather than entirely new clothing. A few pairs of pants and some shirts would be enough to start with – he could get more as he needed later.

By the time that was done and that he had changed, the sun was well into the sky, and Graff decided it was time for some food. It was on the way to what had become his favorite place to eat that it happened.

Something glimmered in the corner of his vision, and he found himself drawn to it instantaneously, like a moth to a flame. It was a stand he had never really taken too much notice about before – jewelry wasn't his thing, not really – but what had caught his eye was not jewelry at all, no, but a stone laying on the table. It was quite large, a teardrop shape that looked like it would have substantial weight to it. The stone itself was a dark brown with lighter, nearly copper tones and golden veining.

And it was beautiful. It was beautiful, and it was his. He could not shake that, for some reason or another. ”Excuse me, sir ?”

The jeweler would look up from his work when spoken to, setting the stone he was wire-wrapping down on the table before giving Graff his complete attention. “Yes, can I help you ?”

”I was wondering... How much for that one ?” He pointed down at the teardrop-shaped stone.

“This one ? It isn't even wrapped yet.”

”I know, but I...” Oh, he wanted it. The sheer want seemed quite out of proportion, and it made him frown – it was just a freaking rock ! - but nonetheless, he could not seem to control himself. ”I would like it.”

“A collector, hm ?” The jeweler would seem amused. “Or a custom gift for someone, perhaps ?”

”Uh ? Well. A necklace with that stone would probably look quite good on Penney, actually... The darker tones would contrast with her red hair well. But yet, as quickly as the notion entered his mind, it was shot down. He could get something else for Penney later. This one was his.

“No need to be shy about it !” The man laughed – and only laughed more when Graff's embarrassment seeped though. “I don't usually sell lose stones, to be honest, but if you want it, I figure I could.” The teardrop stone was picked over and examined. This one, though... I've never seen a stone quite like that before. It would probably cost you quite a bit, to be honest.”

Quite a bit. Well, that was probably more than Graff could really barter for. But leaving it here wasn't exactly an option, really. He was not sure if he could walk away if he even tried... And trying to run off with it would only start the previous circle he'd been in anew. So, the man pondered his options for a moment. “I don't really have much, to be honest. But is there something you need help with ?”

“Well, I have this bags over there.” And it was one hell of a bag. “They're full of gems and various metals that I get in trades and they need to be sorted.” From the look on the man's face, sorting all this was not exactly his most favored activity in the world.

Well, that was his chance. Yes, those bags were stupidly big, and it was probably going to take him the rest of the day, but... But he could not leave without that stone. He simply couldn't. ”What do you sort them by, color ?”

“Material, really, but you don't know much about stones, do you ?” Graff shook his head the negative. “Well, color would already be a huge help. Color and size, then. The big ones are cabochons. They're the ones I wrap in wire. The smaller ones I try to trade back for bigger stones, or whatever I need. I'll get you a chair so you can sit here and do that, the cases are over there.”

Once the chair was pulled over and all the drawers pulled out, Graff would get started on his task, and he and the man would talk along as they both worked – the jeweler on his design, and Graff on his sorting. They would talk about the stones, as Graff did ask names every now and then. They would also talk about each other, their lives, and how they seemed to miror – the man had lost his daughter and wife when things had gone wrong.

It felt... good to talk about the whole thing, for some reason. He'd never really told anyone about it before. It was a relief, in a way.

Yet his gaze would always return to the stone whenever he stopped. It sat there, almost taunting him in a way...

It would indeed take hours, not counting the time where he stopped to get them both something to eat. ”Well.” The bag was empty at his feet. ”I think im done.”

“Sure looks like it.” The man was pleased, that much was easy to see. “I think you've earned it, really. You've just saved me a ton of time.” The gem would be taken and put into Graff's hand. It was indeed quite weighty, but in a comfortable way. “What do you plan to do with it, if you don't mind me asking ?”

”Well... Im not really sure.” He hadn't exactly pondered that far.

“Well, come see me when you do, uh ?” The man grinned.

”I'll try to remember that.”

And with that, it was time to head... Well.

He supposed it was home, after all.

It would not take long at all for her host to surrender himself over to sleep once he had managed to stumble to the room that had become his. The implantation had sapped more energy from him that Taylor could have ever imagined possible – energy that she had needed to return to true awareness, and thus taken.

Eventually, as green eyes closed and awareness slipped away from him, his headache eased and the boy was at last able to drift into true sleep, away from the world and it's worries.

That was when Nuhava truly moved in, consciousness brushing against his own in the little shell they called a body – her own self a small flicker of a flame, his a bright fire that sparkled every hue that existed. All it took was for her will to press upon her host's mind to stop the images which were already planning to take over his subconscious.

Taylor had an hard life, but there would be no nightmares for him tonight, for perhaps the first night in years. It would do him a world of good, Nuhava was certain.

Some gods might have planned to stomp that other flame out completely, to extinguish it until nothing remained but their own. It was something she had considered when faced with the predicament she was in, and the choice she had to make. It had been her plan until awareness had returned to her in truth, when her gem had left Creation's hand and gotten started on the process that had led to this very moment. When she had found him, the perfect little diamond buried in dirt, and started calling him to her.

Then it had occurred to her. It was not so much a memory as an impression as an instinct. She could not remember the words and who spoke them, but their effect was still imprinted in her vast mind. They had been warned. Well, at least she had. She had been warned that things needed to be different, that things needed to change.

She had failed to adapt... obviously. Or else she would not be in this situation, now would she ? Strength could have felt sorry for herself and pitied her state, but such things were useless in the grand scheme of things. It would not get her any results, and there were much better things to put her yet limited energy to work on. Yet, with this realization – and with what had happened to her host before he had entered her true sphere of influence, her plans started to shift when she saw the potential she would hold in her hands, so to speak.

Now, Nuhava planned something completely different. Mystery had done very, very well, though if Kemetzefanya had known for certain how all of this would end up, or if it had been simply Fate having it's play, well, Strength might very well never know. The goddess had said the truth when her consciousness had first brushed his own like a butterfly's wing, like a bare whisper – a child's face did not fit him at all. It did not fit the things he had seen, the shadows he had fought with every ounce of determination his body could harness. Taylor was a sheer diamond in the rough, even if he did not notice it. Even if he did not know it.

Even if the wonderful things were hidden deep under anger, resentment, distrust and regret.

That would change. The body was changed, grown, but his mind – the most important thing, really, shells were so insubstantial in the end – was not. His mind was caught somewhere in between the younger teenager he would be for all the experiences he had not lived, the older teenager he should have been, and the young man he now looked to be.

In short, the man's mind was very, very malleable, if someone knew how to influence it. And oh, she knew quite a few things about how minds worked, and how to push them. She could have done so no matter what – her will would always overpower his own, and that was simply how things were. But with the sheer ease at her fingertips, how could she not ?

Nuhava had no want to give her newly recovered life to anyone else, much less so a mortal of all things. Taylor was the little spark she needed, but she could make him even better – Strength could turn her not only into her host, but into her champion – until the time came that they would stand as one. Until the time where he could teach her all he could about mortals and their whims.

Mortals were such strange creatures, really, so full of courage, of will, of love, pain, hate, everything else in between. They lived everything so strongly, so completely, in a way that fascinated the goddess. Their will burned in a way more befitting of beings that held endlessly more years that they held to their own names. Determination she knew, but the rest... Perhaps not as much as she should have. Perhaps that had been her error.

Perhaps.

Or maybe this was an even worse mistake. Maybe she would eventually look back and regret this moment. It was all possible at this point. Everything was possible.

The only way to know for sure... was try.

Taylor would fight her if he noticed what she was doing, Nuhava knew that. It was in his nature to fight – it was one of the few things he truly knew. But it was a fight he could not win, and precious things might be lost as he eroded his will against her own. Beside, direct confrontation was his forte, not her own.

There were ways to shape him without him noticing until the very moment where it no longer mattered if he did – and Nuhava planned to use them. She would not fail again. Strength disliked the thought of failure.

The past could not be changed, but the future could be shaped.

Her consciousness brushed against his own, like a tender kiss from mother to son, and while he was at his most vulnerable, his most unconscious state, she whispered to him. The things that made him strong. The things that had to be downplayed. The things that would have to go completely.

It would be a process, but hard work had never scared her.

Once Graff had taken off, it would take him an amusingly long time to stop, and Nuhava's passing frustration had been remplaced by amusement rather quickly. Spooked by a dragon ? Really ? That was kind of adorable. Also proof that there was more work to be done, but that was beyond the point.

Glorious. Truly. You can stop running now, honestly. She has not even moved an inch to follow you. Though seeing him finally shift was a treat in itself. A lovely creature her host could become.

That seemed to do it, however, and he stopped, shifting back – though thankfully it was much too early for either himself or Valerin to have freaked out anybody. That was just a dragon, darling. Now if that had been an angry dragon king, she could have understood. Or even just a dragon who clearly showed intent on eating him.

Valerin had been neither, to be honest.

She startled me, okay ?! Graff huffed, peeking out of the alleyway to make sure no one was there before coming out and walking along as if nothing had happened. No one told me she was a dragon !

And do you expect things on Azeroth to conveniently state their origins for you ? There was little reproach in Nuhava's voice – the goddess was simply stating a fact.

Well, no, but...

You've been doing better, though, but we still need to work on your reaction to the things you deem strange. The goddess seemed to ponder out loud.

...We ?

Well, it is not like I have anything else to do, now do I ? She could not even as much as will the body to twitch a finger yet, much less talk to others, but that would come. Every day she became a little stronger. It was not amazing improvement, but it was a steady one – which was really what mattered the most.

I know a lot of these things do not exist where you come from, Taylor. But you have to let go of the truth you know and realize that things like dragons, elves, fairies, and monsters... Exist here, and elsewhere as well. You have to stop being startled by such things. You knew Valerin would not harm you.

Graff pouted to himself much like a scolded child would, hands in his pockets as he walked. I know that ! I just didn't expect it ! It must have been easy for a goddess, to deal with everything that came her way.

I must assure you that if it was, we would likely not be having this conversation at the moment. Nuhava cut though her host's thoughts, a little irritated in spite of herself. And that was the end of that.

You have to condition yourself to not expect certain things as myth, or impossible. Exposure helps. It already has helped, weither you realize this or not.

They had exited the market, now, and the pantheon would only be a few minutes away. Uh ?

You have gotten used to a lot of things since coming to this world, have you not ? It is the same thing. Now that you conscious of the pattern, you can strengthen it. Same with a patten that you would rather break.

Really ? I had no idea someone could do that. Well, not to such an extreme, really.

It requires determination and discipline. You have plenty of the former. The latter she was still working on, as her host slept. It had already taken some root in his subconcious.

Just relax for now. I promise not to tell anyone that you have ran off like a scaredy cat.

Har har har. Funny.