Page 4042

Too late. Yet again.

Why was he always too late?

And worse still, what was he doing now? What had all these sacrifices been for?

The Rainlords were coming to mind. Everything he'd put them through, recently.

Ultimately, yes, it had put them back on the path of independence and growing strength, but looking back on it now, in the context of this new continental war--in the context of these ancient machinations with Ettol that he'd never even known about...

He was a fool to think that he could manipulate the world in such a way.

Whether the objective was achieved or not, there were always going to be unforeseen players on the board. And as much as he thought he could take advantage of a situation, there would always be others trying to do the same.

He wasn't a player. He was just another piece on the board.

His mind went to Sermung. He certainly hadn't expected to see the High Commander in that vision. Working directly with Jonah, no less.

And he'd even mentioned Parson by name.

Some forty years ago.

What must he think of him, now?

The more he thought about it, the more Parson could only feel shame.

Damian's voice cut through the silence like a knife. "You gonna start cryin' over there?"

Parson didn't know whether to laugh or yell at him. If he didn't feel so much pity for the other man, it probably would have been the latter.

He pushed himself into a seated position and just stared at the empty space in the middle of the room where the vision had been.

Damian came over to stand next to him. "Told you to give some respect to Germal, didn't I?"

"Jonah," Parson corrected. "Not Germal."

"Right."

Parson sighed. "I don't even know what I'm doing, anymore."

Damian made no response.

Parson looked to Overra now. "Why did we even form our little trio? Hatch our little plan? It's been too long. I can't remember."

Overra had an answer for him, though, of course. 'To break the stalemate.'

He snorted. "In Sermung's favor, right?"

'Of course,' she said. 'To give him and Tenebrach some manner of relief after all they've done for the world.'

"Then why, when I look back on all we've accomplished, do I only see misery? Why, when I look inside myself, do I only feel misery?"

Next page on the 13th

Thanks for reading, everybody.

Page 4041

What a relief. Germal was ready to lay back and whatever happened happen, since he wasn't in much condition to do anything else, but then Nerovoy was there, invoking the regeneration.

Stability and awareness began to return.

And Damian attacked Nerovoy.

That was it.

That was what Ettol needed.

Parson and Overra were fully on his side now. Even if he was still recovering, this battle was already won. Ettol knew it.

Closer than he would've liked, certainly. This troublesome trio. But they were fractured now.

Before long, Damian fled. He didn't put up much of a fight against Parson, probably because, even in his burgeoning madness, he still did not truly wish to harm the other man.

Or perhaps he could see what Ettol saw. His fight was lost.

Feromas gave chase. Not ideal. Ettol would've preferred he stay and become convinced by the new web that he was about to weave for the others, but oh well. Feromas would have to be a future project.

This wasn't over, of course. There was no doubt in his mind that they would meet again, but there would be plenty of time to prepare for that day.

Ettol had much to do...

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The illusory vision kept going for a while longer, and it took all of Parson's concentration to remain focused on it after the revelations about Germal's true nature. And about what had happened to Damian.

About everything. The culmination of their entire history together.

Jonah.

He showed them memories. As real and immersive as Parson and Damian were there themselves--and occasionally, they were. It was surely a strange thing, seeing their younger selves from Jonah's perspective.

But frankly, Parson didn't really need to see the rest. He remembered perfectly well himself.

After the breaking of their fellowship in this little ancient fortress, he'd encountered Damian several more times. But Jonah--or Ettol--had always been there, too, ensuring that every attempt at reconciliation failed.

So many lies.

Woven seamlessly into the truth.

Made utterly indistinguishable from one another.

But so much was slotting into place now.

Damian had tried to explain the truth to him. Couched in madness as he'd been, he'd still tried. But Parson had never been able to bring himself to believe him. He just seemed so far gone--and this Ettol, so reasonable by comparison.

By the time the vision concluded, Parson Miles had long since fallen to his knees.