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((The 17 pages of St. Patrick's Day + Triple Saturday -- Page 13 of 20))
“Curious,” said Rasalased. “The God of Impulse was said to have been consumed by the Void in the earliest days of humanity. Even in my time, the name Ettol was all but forgotten.”

That information was surprisingly coherent for Rasalased, Hector thought. He almost wanted to make a crack about time not being time, but he felt like it might ruin his chances of learning anything else here. “...Do you know more about Malast?”

“No. Only stories. That is why I would quite like to meet him.”

“Right...” The more he thought about it, the more questions came to mind. “How many... beings who can grant blessings are there? Do you know?”

“I do not.”

“Can you tell me anything about Sermung? Or Dozer? Or any of the servant emperors, really?”

“Only that they are very powerful. Perhaps if I were to meet them, I could learn more.”

“Hmm. What about Cocora? Do you know if she exists?”

“No.”

“What about Avar? Or Lhutwë?”

“Lhutwë?! Of course he never existed! Only a fool would believe in such nonsense!”

“W-whoa... okay.”

Oh, right. Rasalased was a Sandlord--and probably from a time when they hated the Rainlords. The Dry God had been nice enough to Emiliana, as Hector recalled, but he supposed it wasn’t so surprising that there was still lingering animosity there.

He tried to think of more things to ask, but after that string of failures, his enthusiasm had waned somewhat, and the most pressing question that he could think of was, “How much time do I have here with you?”

“Time is not time.”

Well, he walked right into that one, Hector supposed. He decided to rephrase and try again. “...Am I stuck in here?”

“No.”

“So... how do I get out, then?”

“When your blizzard is calmed, you will return.”

Right, the blizzard. It was still raging “outside” of the “cabin” that they were currently taking shelter in. “Do, uh... do you know how long that’s going to take?”

“As long as it must.”

Hector wanted to sigh and laugh at the same time. “...I’ve missed you, Rasalased.”

“Is that so?”

“Mostly.”

“Then I thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I guess.”

“I have a question for you, Young Hector.”

“I can’t wait to hear it.”

“What do you intend to do with these blessings?”

“Uh...” That was one hell of a question. “I... I think I’d have to know more about them before I could figure out what to do with them. Which, uh--which reminds me. Malast said that the blessing you gave me was called Focus.”

“Did he now?”

“...Yeah. I heard him myself.”

“Interesting.”

“...Could you maybe tell me a little more about what Focus actually does?”

“I do not think so, no.”

“Figures.”

“I did not think my blessing would have a name. Hmm.”