Page 3870 -- CCCXIII.

That seemed like a pretty good counterpoint, Hector thought, but Garovel wasn’t done, either.

‘Be that as it may,’ said the reaper, ‘the essence of why the Sandlords don’t worship Azai anymore remains unaffected. The core ideas that she promulgated and made central to Lyzakki culture are still utterly repugnant. Such as the Aglazaiya. Among other things, it minimized the role of honest work like agriculture--which, apparently, she herself introduced to them--and made it so that seizing wealth via martial might was regarded as a more noble and higher-status pursuit. That doctrine, alone, was enough to turn the Lyzakki culture into a force for great suffering and evil in the world. And worship for her was at the heart of it.’

“A fair point. You are more knowledgeable about the subject than I expected. Perhaps even more so than myself, in some respect, hmm? Perhaps you have some personal experience there?”

Garovel made no response.

Caster moved on. “In any case, I will not make the claim that Azai was faultless with her ideology. I am only saying that there is... room for interpretation. On both sides. As I said, I can understand why the Void came to the conclusions that he ultimately did. But perhaps it is also not as black-and-white as you are thinking. The subject of ‘abuse of power’ is one that requires considerable context and nuance in order to judge correctly, no?”

The guy was leaving an opening for Hector to answer. He didn’t necessarily disagree with what the man was saying, but this was also a lot of words without much in the way of clarification. When it came to a subject with such potentially heavy consequences for the future, Hector didn’t want to let him weasel out of talking about it in more detail.

How to articulate that, though? Hmm.

“...Anyway,” said Caster, apparently attempting to move on, “have I answered to your satisfaction?”

“No.” And Hector was getting the distinct impression that this conversation was going to last for a quite while longer yet.


Chapter Three Hundred Thirteen: ‘Where the dark stream meets the ocean...’
Click to display entire chapter at once -- (mobile link)

Raul Blackburn had never seen such devastation. In his young life, this was certainly a new milestone. One he doubted he would ever forget.

The Vantalayan coastline had changed completely. Beaches, gone. Forests, swept away. Entire towns, wiped off the map.

Page 3869

Before continuing, Caster took another pause, either for dramatic effect or simply because he was considering what next to say. “With her leading the way, they began to strike back at those who had been subjugating them for generations. They even learned to cross the sea, both to the north and to the east, where they took the fight to the heartlands of their oppressors. And they conquered them. Absorbed them into their growing horde.”

‘Hence the “Reputation” part of her moniker,’ said Garovel.

“Indeed. You are familiar with the tales of her, no doubt. Perhaps that explanation was unnecessary, but my point was that she built them up from nothing. Granted them a way out of their misery. To my mind, that was not an abuse of power on her part, but perhaps to the Void, it was. Perhaps he thought that she ultimately created more misery than she averted. Unfortunately, these things--like the Void’s mind--are unknowable.”

Hmm. That was a lot to chew on. Hector decided to consult Garovel. ‘What do you think?’

‘You know I have little love for the Lyzakks,’ the reaper said privately. ‘And there’s good reason for that. They were barbaric monsters, even by the low moral standards of the Second Age. If the tales of Azai really are true like this guy is saying they are, then that means she’s to blame for... all of that. Countless millions, slaughtered and enslaved.’

Well, shit.

Garovel didn’t bother keeping his next words to himself. ‘You say these things are unknowable, but is that truly so? The amount of suffering that was spread by the Lyzakki sword was almost unfathomable. If she was real and not just a mythical figurehead used for political gain by religious leaders, then it is difficult for me to imagine how her intervention could possibly be considered a “net positive,” no matter how creative you want to be with your interpretation of events.’

“Ah, but much of the suffering you are referring to actually happened after the Void rent us all asunder. You see? With her no longer there to guide them, what did this barbaric horde do? It went wild. Of course it did. And I do not know if Azai can rightly be faulted for that--and even if she can be, then the Void deserves just as much admonishment, in my estimation.”

Page 3868

“Aha. You are quite knowledgeable, then. I’m a bit surprised the Sandlords shared that with you. Last I knew, they had all but disavowed her.”

It wasn’t quite Hector’s first time hearing of her, but the man did have a point. Despite how well Hector had gotten to know the Sandlords lately, he had barely heard Azai’s name mentioned. Compared to the Rainlords and Lhutwë, the difference was notable. The Rainlords didn’t appear to be avid believers, either--apart from Axiolis and a few others--but at least they still talked about him a fair amount.

In fact, there was even a certain degree of fondness that Hector detected when they did so. Like they were wishing for a simpler time, when they were all more unified and devout.

Not terribly surprising, given all they’d suffered through, of late.

Azai, though. Hector had been meaning to learn more about her. Perhaps now was a good opportunity, but he apparently should’ve just asked Garovel. He might’ve grown a bit reluctant to ask the reaper about anything regarding religion or “gods,” but now that he was thinking about it again in a background thought process, it seemed obvious that Garovel would know all about her, given his Lyzakki heritage.

Not that Garovel was going to bring that up in front of Caster here. Hector would’ve been shocked if he did. Instead, the reaper merely remained silent and let the Marauder continue.

“There was once a time when the Sandlords, as you know them today, were called the Lyzakks. I’m certain you know that much, at least. But before they were Lyzakks, they were just a disparate assortment of nomadic tribes. They were as poor a people as you could possibly imagine. Living in squalor. Battling the elements constantly. Barely surviving. Being preyed upon by powerful kingdoms who viewed them as nothing more than godless savages. Which, in fairness, was not entirely inaccurate.

“Then came along Azai, who took pity upon them. As the Goddess of Sand, she granted to them a great desert and taught them its secrets. Not just how to survive in it but how to thrive. How to use it to their advantage against their adversaries. How to build structures that would endure. How to conduct agriculture in the harsh environment. How to become settlers. And soon enough, they began coming together as one people, a grand unification of tribes under her guidance.”

Page 3867

More memories from the Candle were tickling the back of his mind, wanting his attention, and yet, somehow, Hector could already tell that there wasn’t much of substance there. Rumors and mentions of the name. People hypothesizing. But nothing concrete. Nothing like this meeting here, right now, with Zirat.

Garovel took the opening in the conversation to interject again. ‘You and the Void are enemies, then?’

At that, Zirat actually took a long pause. His gaze drifted toward the ground, and he clicked his tongue. Or Caster did.

Agh, this was confusing.

“...As much as I wish for it not to be so,” said Caster, “yes. I do not think I can formulate an argument wherein the Void might be considered our ally.”

‘So the tales about him rending you from existence...?’

“Ah. Largely true, yes. And I say ‘largely’ only because I’ve heard a few that grew to be quite outlandish.”

‘Why did he do it?’ said Garovel. ‘It’s said that he used to be one of you. That he had quite a warm relationship with all of you, even.’

“A good question,” said Caster. “He was always an enigma among enigmas. Truly, only he would be able to tell you what he was thinking--and even that might be debatable.”

That sounded like bullshit, too, Hector felt.

And perhaps Caster could read that feeling in his aura, because after a moment, he kept going. “...However, I believe he thought that we were abusing our power over this world.”

Hector saw the opportunity and took it. “Were you?”

A heavy silence arrived.

Hector just waited, though. Calm. Attentive. How were you going to answer, Primordial?

“...Perhaps,” said Caster.

“Or perhaps not?” said Hector.

Caster chortled. “Just so, yes.”

“I’m afraid that’s not good enough this time,” said Hector. “Answer clearly and honestly, please. Were you guys abusing your power back in those days?”

Caster sighed. “Let me put it this way: I do not think we were abusing our power, but I can also understand why he thought that we were.”

Hmm. Still not enough. “Why do you say that?” said Hector. “Give me an example.”

“Hmph. Quite disagreeable, aren’t you? Fine.” He paused for a moment, apparently thinking. “Ah. Here’s one that should feel quite relevant. You are familiar with Azai, I assume?”

‘Of course,’ said Garovel. ‘Goddess of Sand.’

“Do you know her other two titles?” said Caster.

‘Reputation and Thirst.’

Page 3866

“Soul division,” said Caster. “One becoming two. Or three. Or ten, even. Though that would be quite extreme. And then those can go off, blend and merge, twist and change. In fact, I would say it is even more likely for them to do so, once they’ve diminished the first time. They need to amass new strength. Or at least, that is my limited understanding of the rather opaque process.”

“...Did you ever go through that?”

“Me? No, of course not. I am an unchangeable monolith. Eternal.”

More bullshit.

“...Okay, fine. In truth, I do not know. Do you remember anything from before you were born?”

“I’m not sure that’s a fair comparison when you’re an ancient, reincarnating entity.”

“Perhaps.”

Hector waited.

“Or perhaps not.”

There it was. “Alright,” said Hector. “Let’s move on. You mentioned something about a monstrous wolf earlier.”

“Yes. The Eternal Hunter. As I understand, he has been dormant for many years, but as ever, he has returned. Reborn just the other day in the midst of the storm which has caused devastation around the world. That should tell you something about how dangerous he is.”

“And you think he’s coming after you?”

“Oh, I know he is.”

“What’s his problem with you, exactly?”

“Problem? As in, morally? I doubt he harbors such thoughts. He is a beast of instinct. And we simply have opposing natures. He was created for the Hunt. That is his life’s purpose; and as far as I know, none have ever swayed him from it.”

“It’s what he was created for?” said Hector. “How do you know that? And who created him?”

“We have been studying him for millennia, trying to discover a method of dealing with him permanently. In the beginning, it was just mayhem. No understanding or reasoning. Just war. Blood and death. But over time, we came to connect dots. The nature of his power, for example, has striking similarities to our own. It is quite likely, therefore, that he sources it from a similar place. Meaning his creator would also be one who is familiar to us: the God of All That is Not. The antithesis of not just us, but of existence itself.”

Damn, that was a lot to take in. Hector was trying to not get lost in the weeds here, but that name. The God of All That is Not. He recognized that one well enough.

That was another name for the Void. One of many.

Page 3865

Maybe all this stuff was just what Zirat wanted people to believe.

Or maybe just some of it was. Key parts. Stuff that would be difficult to pinpoint as false. Things that would swing the overall narrative in a more favorable direction for him while still allowing for deniability.

Yeah.

That seemed likely. And as much as Hector wanted to be able to trust these new aura reading senses of his, he didn’t think they guaranteed anything, especially with this guy’s own fortress-like aura around him.

But he supposed they could move on to another pressing topic. There was only one more line of questioning that Hector was curious about before they did. “...Is Skapa still alive?”

“I don’t believe so, no.”

“You don’t sound certain.”

“When it comes to him, I never have been.”

“How did he die?”

“My peers hunted him down. It took quite a long time, as I’ve heard the story told.”

“And you don’t think he... could’ve reincarnated, like you?”

“No. But as I said, with him, I’m never sure. Perhaps he secretly stole that from us, as well.” Caster’s expression twitched. “Excuse me. Replicated.”

Hmm. “...So if servant powers come from you guys, then where do your powers come from?”

“We are simply born with them.”

That sounded like bullshit.

“Heh. You doubt me?”

Hector didn’t feel like dancing around it. “Yeah. I do.”

Caster breathed half a laugh. “Fair enough. And while I was not lying, I will admit to being somewhat... loose with terms, perhaps. A very old habit, you see. Difficult to stop doing.”

“Loose how?”

“Well, after all, what actually constitutes one of us being ‘born?’ That is a rather murky concept, even for us.”

Hector also noticed that the man was still not using the term ‘Primordial,’ either, even though he was sure that’s what was being continually referred to here. Maybe that just wasn’t how they referred to themselves. A question for later, he supposed. “You don’t know how you’re born?”

“There is no set path to godhood,” said Caster. “Our origins are as varied as we ourselves are.”

“...How many of you are there?”

“Oh, I lost track long ago. Sometimes, we lose ourselves and blend together within the bowels of Chaos, and when we reemerge--if ever we do--it is as someone new. Not just a new incarnation like me, but an entirely new being with new values and motivations. And other times, the exact opposite occurs, instead. So a number can be quite difficult, you see.”

“What do you mean by the opposite occurring?”

Page 3864

‘What does that mean, exactly?’ said Garovel. ‘How does it come from you?’

“It was replicated from my abilities. Stolen, others might argue, but I’ve personally never felt that way. In fact, perhaps I would even be flattered, if the results hadn’t been bungled so miserably.”

‘How was it copied from you? And by whom?’

“How, you ask? Oh my, now that is indeed a question for the Ages. I have often wondered that myself. If you ever discover the answer, please be sure to inform me. As for who was responsible, that I do know. Perhaps it will be a familiar name to you: Skapa the Deceiver. Or Skapa the Savior, if you prefer.”

Welp.

‘Holy fucking shit times two,’ said Garovel, again privately.

And at that, Hector couldn’t help taking a moment aside with the reaper. ‘Garovel, I seem to recall you telling me that all these ancient, godlike beings never actually existed.’

‘Alright. Yeah. Well. Shut the fuck up. Have you thought about that?’

And despite the tense circumstances, Hector snickered under his breath.

‘Also, I never said Skapa didn’t exist. I’ve always thought he was a real dude.’

‘Yeah, okay.’

Caster was chortling again. “Yes, of course you recognize that name. Whenever I reincarnate, I think that perhaps he has finally been forgotten, but that never seems to be the case, no matter how many times someone tries to make it so.”

That made Hector curious, but he also wanted to be careful with his words here. Plenty of memories from the Candle were bubbling up in his mind at the mere mention of Skapa’s name, but there wasn’t time for that, right now. “Do you still hold a grudge against him?” asked Hector.

“Still? Oh, I never did. Unlike many of the others, I have always remained rather fond of the man.”

Hmm. “Really? Even though he ‘bungled’ the replication process, as you put it?”

“Heh. Yes, well, we all make mistakes.”

Difficult words to trust, Hector thought.

But man, now there were so many more questions coming to mind. And this guy, oddly enough, seemed like an open book, right now. It was almost overwhelming. Hector was more accustomed to dealing with cryptic and cagey dudes like Rasalased and Malast. This felt extremely strange, by comparison.

And it gave him pause, as well. Maybe this guy was being a little too forthcoming with these ancient secrets of the world that even old reapers like Garovel didn’t know about. Why might that be?

Page 3863

‘Holy fucking shit,’ said Garovel privately, which made Hector want to ask the reaper for details, but Caster wasn’t done.

“Every new incarnation requires a unique name,” the man said. “I am thinking that mine will be Casterat, though I am still deciding. Ziraster has a nice ring to it as well, I feel. As my soul continues to unify and evolve, my mind will eventually settle on one or the other. Hopefully.”

Huh. Hector wondered if Royo would have another new name when they met again. The guy had already used the alias “Eleyo” beforehand.

Still, Caster continued. “As for the power that allowed me to take and manipulate this ship: it was a combination of my servant ability, that of so-called ‘Destruction,’ and one of my nascent abilities as an incarnation. That being, my ability to mold, store, and reform geometry.”

Geometry? Hector felt compelled to ask something now. “How does Destruction combine with that in order to accomplish what you did?”

Caster chortled. “You are thoroughly intrigued, I see. It has been quite some time since I bothered to explain these things to anyone. I’d forgotten how enjoyable it can be to provide insight to attentive listeners.”

A man after Garovel’s own heart, Hector thought.

“Perhaps Avar had a point, after all. In any case, I digress. ‘Tis a little-known thing, but Destruction, as it is commonly known, is something of an incomplete ability. Granted, such a case might be made for all servant abilities, but Destruction is of particular note here, because it was originally conceived of as a means of building networks, and yet after all this time, it has not fulfilled that role in the slightest.”

What in the hell?

“I believe this was because it was sabotaged in its inception, rendering only the first half of its capabilities usable while the rest remained unrealized.”

Hector was blinking inside his helmet, trying to process all of this information. “...You’re saying that all Destruction users are supposed to be able to do what you did to this ship?”

Caster bobbed his head. “Well... yes. Exactly so. Given enough time to grow and learn, of course.”

Garovel decided to chime in now. ‘But you believe it was sabotaged. Why do you think that?’

“Because it comes from me,” said Caster. “I should know how it is meant to be.”

Page 3862

Banda Toro had done the same, although the context had obviously been quite different. This felt much more solid. Much more controlled.

It was also reminding Hector of Royo Raju, as well--or at least, it was reminding him of that brief window of time in which Royo had spoken to them after “merging” with Secho, the so-called God of Growth. In a background thought process, Hector found himself wishing that he’d spoken longer with Royo, if only so he could make a better comparison with this guy here.

There was definitely something eerily similar at play, but Hector couldn’t quite pinpoint it. With Royo, Hector’s knowledge of aura had been almost nonexistent, and the “blessing” of Domain that he’d received from Malast had only just been given.

Hmm. Royo had also offered to welcome him back into the Higher West Layer of the Undercrust, should he ever decide to go down there again. And now, after meeting this dude, maybe it was time to consider that. It might be a very useful learning opportunity. And an inevitable one, as well, if Warrenhold was ever to truly become a “hub” between the surface and the Undercrust, as its builder, Stasya Orlov, wished for it to be.

All of that was in the back of Hector’s mind, though. In the foremost part of it, he was still focused on how Caster was going to respond.

“...I did tell you that I am a new man,” said Mr. Egmond. “And it even seems as though you can tell that I am not lying about that, no?”

“New doesn’t necessarily mean better,” said Hector.

“Heh. An understandable point of concern, I suppose. I was quite the scoundrel before. If I am to be worse than that, then I would have to be truly wicked indeed.”

There was no utility in responding to that, Hector decided. His point was still lingering, and he was still waiting on Caster’s decision. Either the man would tell him about his mysterious new powers, or he wouldn’t. And Hector didn’t intend to compromise there, not unless Caster came up with something else to change his mind.

A few more moments of silence arrived, until at length, Caster exhaled heavily. “Very well. If you are going to be such a wall, then I will take the first step in building trust between us.” He glanced at Loren again before returning to Hector. “I am no longer Caster Egmond. You may continue to call me that if you wish, as will many others, I am sure, but in truth, I should take a new name, as I have merged souls with Zirat, the God of Sight, Shapes, and Stone.”

Page 3861

Hector didn’t know what that might mean, and he wasn’t liking the feeling that he was getting from it, either. “Why do you say that?” he decided to ask.

“Oh, because I will merely be keeping the Fellowship apprised of my actions. I do not need to seek permission.”

Hmm. That made sense. Something was still bothering him, but he couldn’t think of any justifiable way to say so. There were more pressing concerns, anyway. “Alright. Well, since it looks like we really might end up working together, I also want you to do what you mentioned earlier. Tell me about this new power of yours. How were you able to manipulate this ship the way you did?”

“Mm. Going straight for the trade secrets, huh? You ask much of me, right from the start.”

“You said you’d tell me if we became allies.”

“True. But have we? This all seems to be moving rather quickly, and despite having already offered some concessions of my own, I’ve yet to receive anything in kind. A partnership must go both ways, no? Are you willing to tell me about how your abilities function? I am certain you have some new ones of your own.”

Damn. Hard to argue with that. Hector still intended to try, though. “The reason you have to make more concessions than I do is because you have a lot of horrible things to make up for.”

“So I just have to assume that you are trustworthy? While you get to make me continually prove myself? That hardly seems fair.”

“Maybe not to you, but it absolutely is. You know what would really be unfair? A guilty person getting the same treatment as an innocent person.”

At that, Caster merely stared at him for a lingering moment. The smile on his face diminished somewhat, and Hector could sense a fluctuation in the man’s aura.

What was that? Conflict? Uncertainty?

Thus far, Caster’s aura had been a peculiar thing. From the first moment that Hector had sensed it, he could tell that it was heavily guarded. A fortress in its own right. Far more developed than maybe anyone else he’d met so far.

But he’d still been able to glean a few things. Some stuff was all but being advertised, after all. If the man’s aura was like a fortress, then those things were like banners and flags adorning it.

Such as the fact that this guy was reading his aura right back.

Page 3860

Yeah. It was sometimes easy to forget, since they were all so strong and proud, but he had a responsibility to them, too. They were his guests. They were his friends. And they’d all been through hell. The absolute last thing he wanted was to bring more problems their way.

He couldn’t be timid here. The play wasn’t to trick this guy into leaving. The play was to face him head on.

Terms. That was Caster’s question. What other terms did Hector have for him?

The biggest concern, at the moment, was this dude’s loyalty. He may have been with the Freemen Fellowship, but he was still part of Abolish. Going against Morgunov was obviously going to be an important point. So what could Hector ask for to help alleviate some of that concern?

“...I also want information on the Mad Demon,” said Hector. “Everything you know about him.”

“Ah. Everything, eh?”

“Is that a problem?”

“Not at all. But I have been in Abolish for quite a long time now. There is much to share. More than can be covered in a single conversation, certainly.”

“That’s fine. I want it all in writing, anyway.”

Caster snickered. “You want me to write a report for you? You truly are demanding.”

“And not just on Morgunov, either. Every piece of intel you can provide on any influential members of Abolish, I want.”

“Hmm. Quite greedy. Giving all of that away certainly won’t help the Fellowship’s already-strained relationship with the other sects.”

“I need proof that this alliance is the real deal. If you can’t provide genuine, actionable intel that compromises Abolish’s position, then I can’t be sure that this isn’t just some ploy.”

“Of course, of course. You want assurances. Very well. I shall begin drafting some dossiers for you. But this will take time, you understand. And I will want to consult with some other Freemen, first. Better to keep them in the loop. You are familiar with one, are you not? A Ravi Zaman?”

“I am.”

“Might you to be able to put me in touch with him?”

Hector cocked an eyebrow. “I can. But why do you need me to do that for you? Don’t you have your own channels you can go through?”

“I do, but I have not yet had the pleasure of meeting him. With you as our go-between, we will immediately gain a certain... understanding of one another.”

“I don’t know how high-ranking of a member he is within the Fellowship. He might not have much influence.”

Caster’s smile seemed to morph into a knowing one. “That will not be a problem.”

Page 3859

Almost being the operative word. He remembered how terrifying Caster Egmond’s power was. A destruction user who could harness pan-rozum. Frankly speaking, Hector had no idea how he would deal with that in a direct confrontation. Not to mention, it was clear that there was even more to be worried about than just that, too.

Was this guy really confident enough now to think that going against Morgunov was a viable option?

‘Touched by the divine,’ the man had said. Those words were sticking with Hector. That was certainly one way of putting it. A lofty, overly nice way, perhaps, but a way, nonetheless. Hector’s imagination was not doing him any favors with regard to what crazy shit this dude might be able to pull off now, especially when thinking about the fate of the giant cruise liner here.

Things were going to get complicated. He’d been racking his brain the whole time, across multiple thought processes while also consulting Garovel privately, trying to figure out the best way to handle this incredibly uncomfortable reunion.

There were so many questions that he’d been thinking through as quickly as he could. Should he really try to convince the Rainlords to accept this guy? Would that even be possible? Not without something very compelling to convince them.

The Sandlords were different, though. It was mainly just Hahl Saqqaf that would need convincing, and Abbas actually seemed pretty open-minded when it came to odd, otherworldly stuff. Maybe it was still a bit early to say that Caster here qualified, but there was also the fact that, unlike the Rainlords, the Sandlords other than Asad hadn’t been involved in the battle at Dunehall, so--

No, wait. That wasn’t right, was it? That whole thing had kicked off with a “mysterious” death, for which Ibai Blackburn had initially received blame.

And the person who died had been one Fuad Saqqaf.

Well, fuck.

Alright, maybe he was thinking about this in the wrong way.

First, it wasn’t a matter of convincing anyone. He could worry about that later. The more pressing issue was protecting everyone from this guy. Sure, he was clearly different from how he used to be, but different didn’t necessarily mean better.

In fact, for all Hector knew, it might actually mean worse.

Before convincing any Rainlords or Sandlords of the viability of this alliance, he still needed to convince himself.

Page 3858

Darksteel took his time answering. Caster began to grow somewhat impatient. The more Darksteel thought about it, the more likely it seemed that he might give a favorable response, which Caster had frankly not been expecting. Could this actually work?

The anticipation made Caster’s mind wander even further afield. Two emperors had just been removed from the game. Much was up for grabs, right now. In particular, Korgum and the Nualist Republic of Dozer were going to be in an interesting position. The Korgumites, if they learned of Dozer’s death, would doubtless seek to seize on the opening to win their own ongoing war--even if that death later turned out to be false.

Hmm. Perhaps that was Dozer’s play here. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d faked his death.

And on the other side, ambitious Abolishers--such as himself--would also see this as a chance to acquire Dozer’s land and resources for themselves. Either way, that area of the continent was likely to explode soon, either metaphorically or literally.

Until now, Caster hadn’t really been considering throwing his hat into that ring. It was going to be a mad dash for power, regardless, and he hadn’t thought himself quite in a position to pursue such a dangerous prize.

But now?

If he could actually form an alliance with Darksteel and the lords of Sair?

Which wasn’t even mentioning the Freemen Fellowship. They were going to be in an even more precarious position, now that Ettol was out of the picture.

Heh. Maybe Zirat should try taking the moniker of the God of Luck. Kamír wasn’t using it, anymore. He hadn’t reincarnated since the Third Age. Apparently, one encounter with the Beast of Ardora had been enough for him.

But no. Of course not. A fourth moniker would be playing with fire. He didn’t want to be like Xixa. He wanted to remain sane.

“...Alright,” Darksteel finally said. “That sounds agreeable to me.”

Caster’s smile returned in full, broader than ever. “Excellent. Then I find your proposal amenable. Do you have any other terms?”

-+-+-+-+-

Aw, shit. This was actually happening, wasn’t it?

Agh. When he’d first suggested they retake Sair together, Hector hadn’t really expected Caster to say yes. If anything, he’d thought it would give the guy all the more reason to leave them alone. Giving him a glimpse of the threat level that Hector and everyone else were already dealing with. That would’ve scared away most dangerous weirdoes, right?

But now, Hector almost wished this had devolved into a fight, instead.

Page 3857

Caster spared another glance at Loren. His young ward. How confused the lad must have been, right now. How confused the lad must be all the time, given how little Caster had deigned to explain to him.

It wasn’t Loren that was the concern, though. It was the reaper. Rezolo.

Reapers were always difficult to trust. Their loyalties were always murky. Their true heart, always hidden. Caster was waiting for a moment when he might be able to see the truth there, such as after he reestablished contact with the Unwavering Gaze. But that could be a while, especially if the new tower’s construction ended up delayed, which was an unfortunately common occurrence with construction projects.

In the meantime, he couldn’t reasonably expect these two to keep following him while remaining in the dark indefinitely. He might need to take a gamble and start explaining more to them. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if Rezolo turned traitor, after all.

Or would it? The Beast’s presence did complicate matters.

Bah.

Perhaps Darksteel could be useful for this purpose, too. If nothing else, another pair of discerning eyes might help him crack Rezolo wide open, even if Darksteel himself did not prove viable as a long-term ally.

“Would you also be willing to assist me in the construction of my network?” said Caster.

“Assist how?” said Darksteel.

“However you like. I need materials. I need to process and refine those materials. The physical labor will also be quite time-consuming. I’d even be willing to let you help with the mapping stage, if you are interested in that sort of thing.”

That last part in particular was actually quite the concession to make and risk to take, offering to bring this veritable stranger in on the project so intimately, but he suspected that hardly anyone would see it that way.

A difficult and expensive quagmire of dubious value and murky motives: that’s how most people would view this endeavor, no doubt. Not something to spend their own time, energy, and resources on.

But if Caster’s instincts were right about this fellow, then Darksteel might know better. He might see this the way Caster did. As a monumental opportunity. And if he could see that, unaided, then maybe he really was the kind of ally that Caster wanted to have on his side. Maybe this was a partnership that had real potential.

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It was a new and dangerous world that they were living in. Both exciting and terrifying. Caster might have hoped that after merging with the God of Sight, among other things, he would have gained a more complete understanding of the world around him, but he had since learned repeatedly that there were always more questions to be asked.

Always things that went unseen. Things that hid. Things that deceived.

It was a struggle in its own right, trying to discern the truth from what was visible. And of course, it didn’t help that this merge was still so new. In time, of course, their powers would grow and unify, but even then, that was no guarantee of complete worldly knowledge.

“The lords of Sair,” echoed Caster flatly. “I am not seeking a deal with them. I am seeking a deal with you.”

“Unfortunately for you, they’re my allies. I won’t ally with you unless you first make peace with them.”

Not budging on that at all, eh? How uncommon. Loyalty was not typically made so obvious. Could it be bluster? An ostentatious show to conceal how fragile that relationship actually was?

Maybe. But if he was wrong and pushed harder, then the blowback would be tremendous. Any further attempt at negotiation might well prove impossible. He needed to choose his words carefully.

But he also wasn’t prepared to give ground just yet.

“If I were to help them with their reclamation,” said Caster, “then how much information should I expect from you?”

Darksteel paused. “...I know of a few different locations that might pique your interest.”

“A few, eh? That’s a bit too vague for my taste. By my recollection, a ‘few’ typically refers to any number between three and ten, though context might add some variation. And some folks even use that term for as little as two. So which is it, then? Be more specific, please.”

“...More than three.”

“Ah. Better, but still not being exact, I see. Is there a reason for that? Or are you purposely trying to annoy me?”

“Just being cautious. Maybe I tell you about a place, but when you go there, it doesn’t meet your standards. I don’t want to overpromise.”

“Heh. That is fair, I suppose. So that means you’re certain of at least three locations, then?”

“I’d say so, yeah.”

Interesting. Were three new locations worth all that trouble at such an early stage of this incarnation? Almost certainly not. But if that trouble was going to find him, anyway? Perhaps he should take what he could get.

Hmm.

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“I don’t know if the information I’m asking for is worth risking a fight against Morgunov,” said Caster.

“Nothing less than that will convince the lords of Sair that you are not their enemy,” said Darksteel.

Driving a hard bargain, as expected. Caster had to consciously avoid frowning.

But of course, there was a good chance that such a fight with Morgunov was inevitable, regardless. Caster wasn’t yet sure if he genuinely believed that himself, but Ettol certainly had.

Unfortunately, even now, it was difficult to gauge how that line of thinking had worked out for the pompous bastard. He’d wanted a fight with the Mad Demon, and he’d gotten it alright. So was his fate his own fault? Or had this actually been inevitable, just like he’d said? Was Morgunov always going to come for them, sooner or later?

Without more details about how everything had unfolded, Caster was still undecided.

One thing was clear, though: the Beast of Ardora was now free. The Prime Hunt, therefore, was back on--and worse than ever, seemingly, if both Sai-hee and Dozer had been laid low by it.

That was another part that Caster didn’t know if he believed yet. Zirat clearly did, but in this case, it was Caster Egmond who was the one with personal memories and experiences to pull from. The Peacemaker and the Living Void had been unflappable fixtures on the world stage for hundreds of years. The idea that they had both been killed was almost unfathomable to him.

Surely not. Surely, they were just gravely wounded and having trouble recovering. Or running some kind of scheme, perhaps. Politicking, as usual. To what end, though? To draw out Sermung? Where was the Crystal Titan during all of this, anyway?

And even stranger still, Zirat had no idea who that was. How could that be possible when he seemed to know about so many other big figures in the world? How could the biggest have escaped his notice?

So many things were not adding up. They needed to meet with their contemporaries and exchange intel, but that, too, was a major risk. The more of them that gathered, the easier it would be for the Beast to find them. At least this Darksteel fellow didn’t appear to be an incarnation. That shouldn’t attract the Beast’s attention.

Theoretically, anyway.

Perhaps the old rules no longer applied. The Beast had clearly changed in some significant way.

Page 3854 -- CCXII.

Chapter Three Hundred Twelve: ‘The Gatekeeper and the Knight...’
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Caster Egmond laughed heartily. When was the last time he’d heard something so bold as that? Such a brazen thing to ask. Made with no apparent reluctance or modesty.

It seemed Caster had been correct in his assessment of this man, which just made him feel all the more delighted. One who would not be easy to push around or manipulate. One who knew how to make demands and take decisive action.

Such an ally might be difficult to deal with, certainly. Difficult to get everything Caster wanted out of. Perhaps even impossible, if that fearsome and mysterious aura was anything to go by.

But in matters such as these, a true ally had to have such qualities. Caster knew it. Zirat’s memories told him so. Ancient instincts. Learned over the course of several difficult incarnations.

Above all, an ally needed to exhibit competence and toughness. Not just strength but resilience, too. Zirat had seen plenty of individuals with incredible power at their fingertips, power that should have theoretically rendered them all but untouchable to their foes.

And how had they ended up? Too often, all that power amounted to nothing, as they became putty in the hands of others. Sometimes, those hands belonged to “enemies,” like Karugetti or Skapa. But just as frequently, those hands belonged to “allies” like Makirë or Ettol.

Manipulators were on all sides. An ally who could not guard themselves against such forces was no ally at all. Just another piece to be moved. A tool to be used.

Of course, it was still far too early to be making any truly definitive judgments in that regard, but so far, Caster was pleased by what he was seeing here.

That didn’t mean things were going to go smoothly, though. Far from it, in fact. That was the whole point.

When his laughter finally settled, Caster leveled a heavy stare at his conversational opponent. The smile diminished from his expression, though he did not allow it to leave entirely. “Bloodeye is one thing. But making war against Morgunov is an entirely different matter.”

“Trust is a hard thing to come by,” said Darksteel. “And you’re asking for a lot of it.”

“Am I? I’m asking for a bit of information regarding land. Nothing more.”

“Downplaying your intentions isn’t going to help your case. Nor will lying, if that’s your next move.”

“My ‘case,’ is it? Have I stumbled into a trial, all of a sudden?”

Darksteel bobbed his head. “No. But you haven’t stumbled into a birthday party, either.”