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‘Brother dear,’ said Chergoa, ‘let’s try not to anger the ancient warrior god who’s able to manipulate our souls, shall we?’

‘That’s a fair point,’ said Garovel. ‘But I don’t think there’s much point in tiptoeing around him. Not when he’s already staring into our souls and passing judgment on us.’

‘Yeah, well, even so--’

‘You need not fear me,’ said Rasalased. ‘I will not harm you.’

‘See? What a nice guy. Aside from all the interrupting, he’s actually quite--’

‘Young Rainlord.’

‘Um--yes?’ said Emiliana.

‘What is this shadow on your soul?’ said Rasalased.

It was her turn to sound confused. ‘Uh. I don’t know what you mean.’

‘A dark thread,’ said the Dry God. ‘Something watches you from afar.’

‘What? What’s watching me?’

‘A demon.’ There came a pause. ‘Powerful. He senses me, as I sense him. He blocks my sight. He does not wish me to know his soul. But he comes for you. That much, I could see.’

‘...Does he have a name?’ Emiliana asked. But she didn’t sound especially surprised, Hector noticed.

‘He hid it from me,’ said Rasalased.

‘Well, that sounds wonderful,’ said Chergoa. ‘Anything else you can tell us?’

‘You are all caught in a storm,’ said Rasalased. ‘Strength of arms will not avail you.’

‘You don’t say,’ said Chergoa. ‘I don’t suppose you could help us with that somehow, hmm?’

‘I cannot. But hold true, and you will see my blessing.’

‘Great.’

‘I advise you: do not fight. Resist, but do not fight. Hold true and see.’

Hector just heard Garovel sigh.

A long silence followed--so long that Hector thought that might be the end of it. There was still more he wanted to know, but he wasn’t sure if he should--

‘Ask your question, Young Hector.’

That one was really fucking creepy, Hector felt.