I'ma take a day

You guys're lookin' real handsome and/or pretty, by the way.

EDIT: Alright, I'll have another page on the 2nd at midnight PST. Apologies, guys.

Page 3368

The real issue.

Ah.

Dozer remained quiet. The boy did have a point, though he still didn’t want to admit it, even after all these years.

There was a particular incident that had caused the fallout between them, an incident that Dozer had been struggling to get past.

Maybe he really had gotten too old. Becoming too stuck in his ways. Unable to forgive and move on.

Eh, who was he kidding? He’d never been one for forgiveness.

“You still fault me for killing Suresh,” said Gohvis.

“...Yes,” said Dozer flatly.

And for a time, the lad just looked at him, a rare expression of surprise on his reptilian face. He’d not been expecting that, had he?

Hell, even Dozer himself hadn’t. On any other occasion, he might’ve deflected or outright denied it.

The truth, that was.

It was supposed to be ancient history by now. How could anyone hold onto a singular grudge for so long?

But here and now, he wanted to acknowledge it. Finally. It was almost a relief--for him and his son both, seemingly.

The look on Gohvis’ face melted gradually into one of somber exhaustion. The lad let out a deep sigh and sat down on the floor, wrapping his tail around and resting it on his own lap.

What now, he wondered?

This was what they called progress, he supposed. A step in the right direction, perhaps.

Or perhaps not.

“In killing him, more information was lost than in the sacking of Ethori. Or the destruction of Arkotesh. Do you understand? In that one act, you deprived me of incalculable value. Even if I were to annihilate your precious Erudia, the loss would not compare.”

“Now you exaggerate.”

“I do not. You simply did not realize the depths to which he was still useful to me.”

“He was trying to kill you, Father.”

“And he would have failed, son.” Dozer almost laughed. “The more things change, the more they stay the same. Just as you thought me incapable of defending myself then, you still think that now. Only your reasoning has changed, it would seem.”

“And you continue to not see my true worth,” said Gohvis. “I am now far more knowledgeable than Suresh ever was. Whatever plans you had for him, I can fulfill in his stead if you would but trust me.”

It was Dozer’s turn to sigh.

Page 3367

There’d been a time, of course, when he’d thought differently. When he’d thought that every war--every battle, even--was critical. He’d thought that any point could be the turning one, for the better or worse.

It had been a man named Suresh who had ultimately changed his mind about that, a man who also happened to be one of the most fearsome individuals Dozer had ever personally known--and an unparalleled source of knowledge, besides.

“We have stepped beyond the threshold, Medan. The world watches us, always. And while many tremble at our slightest glance, many others do not. Instead, they seek to use us. To manipulate and force us to move. They see all that we have built, all that we have inherited, and they think that makes us vulnerable, because it gives us something to lose.

“But it doesn’t. And they are fools. Because we are monoliths. We do not move by the world’s will or provocation. We move when we decide, and everyone else must make way. Do not forget that, Medan, else you will soon find yourself dizzy at this new height of power.”

And indeed, Dozer had found that to be true. How many wars had there been since then? Too many to count, certainly. And they always felt like the most important thing in the world at the time. And in fairness to the people involved in them, perhaps they were.

But not to him.

No. He wasn’t going to let himself get sucked into this nonsense that Morgunov had no doubt started on a whim. Even if the rest of world didn’t see that obvious fact, he did.

“You surprise me, boy,” said Dozer. “Letting yourself get mixed up in the Demon’s messes again. When you didn’t budge from your library, I thought you’d finally learned your lesson.”

“This has nothing to do with him. And I think you know that.”

“No? Perhaps so. I thought you had a fondness for some of his men, at least. Betraying me means betraying them, as well. The rest of Abolish will not look kindly upon you as a traitor--or your followers. Are you prepared to risk their lives, as well?”

“Stop this. It is unlike you to speak of trivialities and pettiness. You are trying to throw out distractions, because you do not wish to discuss the real issue here.”

Page 3366

Interesting. The fact that Gohvis chose to reveal all of this instead of silently attacking him was curious. Surely, there were other things he could have said if it was only a matter of keeping him preoccupied. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because as I said, I am wondering if we might not still be able to find common ground again.”

“You are not entirely certain you wish to betray me yet, is that it?”

“In essence. You are my father, after all.”

“How tenderhearted of you.”

“Mock me all you like. Even if you somehow overpower me and go to the aid of the others, today will not be a good day for Abolish. Unless, perhaps, you can convince me to remain by your side and help.”

Ridiculous. But he supposed this conversation was a long time coming, one way or another. They’d both avoided it in so many different small ways.

And he could see the lad’s stratagem here. Gohvis had waited until the stakes were high enough such that Dozer could not merely brush him off or deflect--or otherwise try to delay this talk until another occasion.

Either it happened now, or it didn’t happen at all.

That still did not explain, however, why the lad had been so intent on not wanting Engomat to hear this conversation. That part remained highly suspect. If Gohvis had any sense, he would at least not want to fight him at full power. Or perhaps he thought he could simply kill Engomat the instant they separated.

Regardless, Dozer did have to admit that Gohvis had a fair bit of leverage here. The lad’s assessment of the situation was not without its merit. A major counterstroke from the Vanguard had been likely to occur for a while now, so if today was indeed the day, then it was no great surprise.

But it was, also, not necessarily Dozer’s problem.

“You know I have no plans to further involve myself in Morgunov’s little war,” he said. “Keeping me busy would not be necessary. I would not have gone to anyone’s aid in the first place.”

“Mm. I told the Vanguard as much, myself. They seemed not to believe me. Which was understandable, I suppose. Trusting my word in these circumstannces would have been of great risk to them, with comparatively little benefit.”

Indeed, his son did understand. No matter how great this offensive from the Vanguard turned out to be, it could ultimately be considered just another test for the men.

As ever, the worthy would endure.

Page 3365

That was why Gohvis had gone to great lengths, at a relatively young age, to acquire via mutation the power of telepathy. Because with it, he was able to speak in two simultaneous voices, one physical and one non-physical.

It certainly hadn’t been perfect at first. But over time, he’d refined. And now, of course, he was of sufficient age that none questioned it, anymore. They all simply assumed--quite reasonably--that he existed in a perpetual hyper-state with his reaper.

These days, Dozer was one of only a handful in the entire world who knew this about him. Even Morgunov and Jercash didn’t seem to know, though it was difficult to be certain of that. Those two both had their own ways of getting their hands on information that seemed otherwise unobtainable.

Just as Dozer himself did.

“If you truly wanted to have such a conversation with me,” said the old man, “then this is not the way. And you know that.”

Gohvis merely stood there, eyes as piercingly red as ever.

Then a thought struck him. “Or perhaps--hmm. Is this about the Dulvani? You did have a fondness for them, didn’t you? If so, then cease your worrying. I have no plans to eradicate them.” Unless they got in his way, of course, but Gohvis would already know that, too.

Still, the lad said nothing.

Mm. Hold on a minute... Yes, he would already know that, wouldn’t he? So then...

“...You did come here for them, didn’t you?” said Dozer, tilting his head. “Because you know that they have what I seek. Or some knowledge of it, at least.”

“You are jumping to conclusions, Father. I’d not recommend doing that, today of all days.”

Dozer squinted with one eye. “And what difference does the day make?”

“I’m not here for the woodfolk, Father. I’m here at the behest of the Vanguard. Of Sermung.”

Dozer clenched his jaw. Invoking that name, here and now, was a deliberate insult. But he maintained his composure. After all, just as he knew what to say in order to get under his son's skin, the opposite was undoubtedly true, too.

“And today is the day of their counteroffensive,” said Gohvis. Despite his words, he did not sound smug at all. Just flat and serious, as ever. “My job was merely to keep you busy. They didn’t even ask me to kill you, though I’m sure they wanted to.”

Page 3364

“It is nothing so conspiratorial as either of those things,” said Gohvis, “but once I have explained, you will understand. So please, Father. If there is any amount of trust left within you, then let it be used here.”

Dozer leveled his steely gaze at him. If this were anyone else, there would have been an obvious solution here. As a show of good faith, the traditional course of action would have been to exchange reapers with one another and then encase them both.

To put their lives in each other’s hands, in other words.

It was a simple, ancient, and yet still quite effective method of creating a neutral environment for which negotiations such as this one could be conducted.

Problem was, Gohvis did not have a reaper.

Because the infamous Black Scourge was not a servant.

For quite some time, that particular subject had been an enduring mystery. For as long as Dozer had known him, Gohvis had always possessed the same powers as a servant with mutation. But a reaper never appeared.

At first, Dozer had thought that, surely, the reaper was just hiding--that Gohvis’ independence was merely an elaborate illusion. Even after Gohvis demonstrated his ability to invoke the regeneration on his own, without needing to be touched by any reaper, it had still taken Dozer many more years before he fully, truly believed it.

But as strange and obnoxious as it sometimes was, it also undoubtedly had proved very advantageous over the years. Reapers were the primary point of weakness for servants, after all. Gohvis being able to regenerate without one meant that he may’ve well been a true immortal.

Perhaps the first in history, even.

It was hard to know that for sure, though. As far as Dozer was aware, Gohvis had never been completely obliterated--never vaporized or atomized, for instance--so there was no telling if he could regenerate himself from such a state unaided. And rather understandably, the lad was not keen to test that out, either, because by all conventional wisdom, it was very likely that, no, he wouldn’t be able to.

But then again, he could still regenerate from having his brain destroyed, so it wasn’t entirely out of the question.

For the longest time, the questions that Gohvis provoked from others had been incessant. Naturally, many of their comrades eventually noticed that something was strange with him, and explaining his exceptional nature to them was not something that was in any way advantageous to him.

Gonna take two more

Yeah, sorry. But thanks for your patience, guys.

EDIT: Alright, sorry for the delay. I'll have new page for you on the 23rd, at midnight PST as usual.

Page 3363

“I have only moved to protect what was mine,” said Gohvis. “That is not the same as moving against you.”

“Splitting hairs won’t help your case here,” said Dozer. “Taking responsibility for your actions might.”

The giant reptile shook his head. “Regardless, this is important, Father. I do not ask this of you lightly. I know how difficult it is for you to extend even a modicum of trust my way, at the moment, but in this matter, I must insist. Engomat cannot be privy to this information, at least until you’ve heard and processed it yourself. If you decide afterward that you wish to tell him everything I said, then that is fine. But you will need the option.”

“...Why?” said Dozer. “What possible reason could there be for that?”

“I am sorry, but if I explained any further while he can hear, it will likely defeat the purpose of secrecy.”

It was Dozer’s turn to shake his head. “That is not good enough, son. You ask too much and offer too little.”

Gohvis gave a heavy sigh, and for the first time, turned away from Dozer, pacing toward the far side of the room. He was so tall that his head nearly scraped one of the small, metal lamp fixtures that hung from the ceiling.

“To my mind, there are only two reasons you would ask such a thing of me,” said Dozer. “The first is that you are simply lying and trying to make it easier to kill me. Which, amusingly, would not work even if I agreed to your terms, but seeing as you are clearly confident in your own ability, you must disagree with that assessment. Meaning that this explanation is indeed quite likely.”

Dozer left space for Gohvis to respond, but the enormous dragon man said nothing, not even turning around to face him again.

“The second explanation,” Dozer went on, “is that, somehow, you are being earnest, and you instead fear that if Engomat hears and understands whatever it is that you wish to say, he will then take some immediate, unpreventable, and irreversible action. Such as releasing my soul, perhaps? But what information would prompt him to do such a thing? And you must surely realize that while in a hyper-state, I am the one in foremost control. Have you forgotten that? Or is there some other action from him that you fear? If so, then I am having trouble imagining what it might be.”

Page 3362

After everything they’d been through together, it was somehow much more tempting to say the things that he knew would irritate.

Perhaps, deep down, some part of him had been wanting this day to come. Wanting to see if Gohvis would truly go this far.

But no. Reason needed to win out, today. Too much was at stake.

“Very well,” said Dozer. He moved for the large chair by his sprawling bed and took a seat. “Speak your piece. I promise to listen in earnest.”

For a time, Gohvis was again quiet, no doubt trying to choose his words carefully.

Dozer just waited for him.

“...I have seen what you are looking for in this place,” said the Scourge. “I can help you find it. But in exchange, you must agree to help me achieve my goal, as well.”

Dozer cocked an eyebrow. “What you’ve just described was our original arrangement, no? And were you not the one who first declared that our two dreams were incompatible with one another?”

“...Yes,” said Gohvis. “But I have since discovered new information which has changed my mind.”

Dozer rubbed his temple with one knuckle. “Well, now, that is interesting, because I’ve heard you say it so often and for so long that I think I might’ve come to believe it, myself. So please explain to me what this new information is.”

“I would be happy to,” said Gohvis, “but not in Engomat’s presence.”

Dozer scoffed. “You cannot be serious.”

“Unfortunately, I am. Please, Father. Disengage your hyper-state, send Engomat away, and I will explain. And perhaps, when I do you no harm, you will finally realize beyond doubt that I am still loyal to you.”

“Hardly. You say all of that as if I would be entirely at your mercy without Engomat’s help.”

“No, Father. You are already at my mercy. You may not want to acknowledge it, but the truth is, my strength surpassed yours long ago.”

Dozer couldn’t help smiling a little. He had to admire the lad’s confidence, at least. “If that’s so, then why do you not simply force me to submit, then take the whole of Abolish for yourself?”

“Because that is a different matter altogether. I have never coveted your position. How many times must I say that before you finally believe me?”

“Words are cheap, son.”

“Then what of my actions? Never once have I moved against you.”

“Well, that is not exactly true, now is it?”

Taking one more day

Yeah. Thanks, guys.

Page 3361 -- CCLXXXIII.

Such conversations were quite rare, these days. Not many within the Vanguard were both capable enough to seek him out and also willing enough to actually speak with him. It was usually one or the other.

However, he then sensed something he had not been expecting. At least, not here and now.

He sensed the assassin’s full presence. Yes. Assassin. Singular. It was not a group, as was typically the case. It was only one man.

And it was an all too familiar one, at that.

He turned to see the enormous figure there, one with a profile so unique that it identified him instantly without need of any other information.

His supposed right-hand man. The Black Scourge. The Monster of the East.

Gohvis was here.


Chapter Two Hundred Eighty-Three: ‘The Melody in Black...’
Click to display entire chapter at once -- (mobile link)

“...Why would you appear before me in this manner?” said Dozer. “You, of all people, should know how I would perceive it.”

Gohvis made no response.

Dozer clenched his jaw. What was this, now?

The Scourge was admittedly not among those he’d been expecting to see, but it did make an unfortunate degree of sense.

For over two centuries, he and Gohvis had not been on the best of terms. The Scourge was a far cry from the little lost creature that Dozer had once rescued and decided to raise as his own child. Too much had happened. Those memories were of a different life entirely. Or maybe they’d grown distorted by time and nostalgia.

“...If you’ve come to kill me,” said Dozer, “then why do you hesitate? I and many others taught you better than that, no?”

“I am still undecided,” said Gohvis.

Dozer exhaled half a laugh through his nose. “At this late stage? It seems to me that you should have sorted through your feeling before showing yourself.” But then, that had always been the lad’s weakness, hadn’t it? Ruled by emotion, no matter how hard he tried to protest otherwise.

Saying as much aloud would not have been productive, however.

“No,” said Gohvis, rather unsurprisingly. “I am thinking that we may yet be able to find common ground again. Before it is too late.”

Too late for whom, exactly? The lad had a knack for making veiled threats that were not so veiled. Pointing that out, too, would not have been productive. Dozer had to control himself.

Page 3360

If only he’d been able to convince Domingo to design military uniforms for him. What a colossal disappointment that meeting had been.

Ah well.

Even if the man hated him with a burning passion, Dozer did not intend to stop wearing his clothes. If anything, it made him want to keep buying them out of spite.

Next came the white button-down. He rolled up the sleeves and picked out a silky black tie. He forewent the jacket. Jaskadan was too warm for that.

Next should have been socks and dress shoes, but he wasn’t in the mood. Oddly enough, he rather preferred the idea of sandals, at the moment. They weren’t battle attire, either, but honestly, nothing really was. He’d most likely end up barefoot by the end of the fight, either way.

Then he was done. Fully dressed. But still no attack arrived. He eyed himself in the mirror, not really looking and instead just thinking. Waiting.

Curious. Did these assassins have cold feet? Or were they perhaps hoping for some sort of backup to arrive first?

Or was this all just in his head? Had he finally gone senile and lost his mind to paranoia, as so many were already proclaiming?

That might’ve been amusing, were it true. Made things simpler, perhaps.

Well.

He couldn’t yet tell where they were, whether they were near or far, inside the room with him or out. He only knew that the threat was imminent. That a clash of souls was soon to occur.

But if they wanted to keep giving him time like this, then he supposed he would just have to force their hand. Unless they stopped him, he was going to go back outside and start giving new orders to his men. The attackers wouldn’t want that, surely.

He made for the door.

Then he felt it. The presence. They were in the room with him now. Had they been there all along? He didn’t think so, but he couldn’t be sure. His eyes still couldn’t see them, but he had a rough idea where they were. On the other side of the room, behind him.

He stopped and waited, still undecided about how he wanted to handle this.

Clearly, these assassins were not the usual sort. They’d waited for him. And even now, they still weren’t attacking despite having every reason to. Perhaps they wanted to talk, first. If so, he intended to hear them out.

Page 3359

Engomat’s reaper senses weren’t telling him anything. Of course they weren’t. Even before the existence of aberration-spawned Invisibility, there had been various means by which assassins could avoid detection. It certainly hadn’t helped, though. Dozer could’ve done without that little technological development from Morgunov’s side.

Hell, despite all the breakthroughs they’d made, it seemed like half or more ended up being too much responsibility for them to handle. Of what use was some great new technology if it just ended up in the Vanguard’s hands, anyway? He’d often pondered that question. If the Vanguard didn’t have their own threatening inventors, Dozer would have ceased bothering with this hassle eons ago.

Maybe he would’ve even killed them all himself. Sometimes, he thought that maybe Engomat was right about the advancement of technology, that their mission would be better off without the extra “help.”

If not for his dream, Dozer probably would’ve been convinced by the reaper a long time ago.

He proceeded back into the bedroom and began getting dressed. Despite his apparent age, he had quite the physique. In fact, that was in large part the reason why he’d wanted Engomat to let him age so much.

When he was younger, he’d cared not a whit for his own musculature, but by the time he’d hit a point when a servant might normally stop the aging process, he’d developed a new fascination with bodybuilding. And unfortunately, one could not build muscle while aging was halted by a reaper.

These days, he’d never felt healthier or stronger. Nonetheless, people still took to calling him “the Old Man,” like he was somehow past his prime.

Maybe they’d stop calling him that if he took his shirt off in public more often.

Bah. Silliness. He had no use for it.

Whoever was about to attack him, he appreciated that they were at least allowing him to look dignified for the occasion. He’d already experienced too many fights in nothing but a towel--or even stark naked.

Perhaps these assailants had some sense of honor about them. That would be a nice change of pace, though he doubted it.

He went for the gray briefs and black Domingo slacks first. The latter had a fine silver trim down the sides, which was perhaps a bit opulent for battle attire, but he didn’t mind. Domingo was a master of his craft who knew how to blend function and form perfectly.

Page 3358

It would’ve also been of great help if he could get his hands on a new source of nuclear material, natural or otherwise. All the ones he’d been relying on over the last half-century were now either mostly depleted or dead.

Assassinated, in many cases, actually.

For all their moral posturing, Sermung and the Vanguard seemed to have no qualms about murdering Dozer’s materializing sources, no matter how innocent they might’ve been. He still remembered a time when they at least tried to spirit the sources away and hide them from him. Their persistent string of failures must’ve become too demoralizing.

Dozer had always wondered if it was Iceheart’s policy which had changed things, as many claimed, or if that was merely a smokescreen to help prevent Sermung’s all-important public image from becoming too tarnished.

Whatever the case, the Vanguard’s secret division of assassins was the real problem. Naturally, they’d made many attempts on Dozer’s life over the years, and they always tried to strike when he was at his most vulnerable.

Such as when he was in the comfort of his own chambers. Not unlike this very moment, when he was in the shower at his most defenseless, washing off the grime of a long day of battle.

Sometimes, the killing attempt came from intruders with admittedly impressive stealth. Other times, it came from traitors who’d been in his service for years.

It had been a while since the last attempt. He wondered which type it would be this time.

He stood directly under the showerhead, letting the searing hot water massage his face for a few minutes longer than he usually did. If his attackers were waiting for a window of opportunity, then perhaps they would think this was a good one. It certainly wouldn’t have been the first of its kind.

At length, though, he shut the water off and looked around the black-and-gold tiled room, almost disappointed. With how hot he liked the water, there was plenty of steam to make visibility low, as well.

Fine.

He grabbed a towel and began drying himself off.

He knew that something was off tonight. It wasn’t any kind of supernatural sense--or at least, he didn’t think it was. Rather, it was just centuries of experience. Not something he could articulate.

The air? No. The stillness? No, not that, either.

There’d been a time, long ago now, when he’d thought this feeling was simply paranoia. And back then, maybe it had been. Hell, maybe it still was, to some extent. But now, he knew a bit better.

The difference.

Between a gut feeling.

And a long-tempered instinct.

Page 3357

Kara’kuun? If these tremors were coming from the Dulvani capital city, then perhaps he should change tactics here. He’d told Itoya to send a few men to negotiate with the Dulvani directly, but now he was thinking that he should go investigate this other matter himself, anyway.

Interesting.

He didn’t like to act rashly, though. Increasing the number of scouts would be the more prudent thing to do.

Patience, then. As ever.

He’d heard that all his life, from reapers and mentors alike: that his patience was perhaps his greatest strength. How many enemies had he vanquished over the years simply by outlasting them? By waiting for them to make a mistake? By looking for an opening, no matter how long it took to find it?

Though, he’d heard the opposite, too: that he was too slow to act. Too scared of making a wrong step. Too cowardly for an emperor. Morgunov certainly liked to sing that tune. The man had an, at times, paradoxical obsession with the concept of cowardice. But then, that was just one more thing that made the Mad Demon live up to his moniker.

He instructed Natia and Akama to send more scouts to Kara’kuun, and then he retired to his chamber in the heart of the Obsidian Shell, the largest of the mobile fortresses in his entourage. Within its ridged walls slept enough non-nuclear firepower to raze an entire city in less than four hours--and without the need of a single superpowered individual.

There’d once been a time, not even that long ago by his estimation, when he’d thought that taking nuclear warheads along with him on these ventures was a good idea, but he’d since come to the conclusion that they were more trouble than they were worth. Containment and management alone made them logistical headaches, but on top of that, they were almost never needed--and even when they were, they attracted a prohibitively difficult amount of attention from the Vanguard.

Sermung did not often show himself, but the use of nuclear weapons was one thing that had almost always drawn him out. In some ways, that had been a useful tool, being able to both predict and manipulate the Titan’s movements in certain ways.

But that song and dance had lost its luster by now. Eventually, Sermung grew wise to the strategy, and in retaliation, the man had seemingly made it his life’s purpose to make Dozer regret it in a thousand other ways every time he deigned to use a nuke--until eventually, he’d all but bled Dozer dry. Now such weapons were preciously rare for him and certainly not worth risking on lengthy field operations like this one.

Page 3356

The encampment did not look as one might have expected. There were no tents or campfires to be seen, no gatherings of soldiers out in the open.

No, the encampments of the Living Void were different. He’d always preferred to travel in luxury. What was the point of being the most powerful conqueror the world had ever known if his entourage paled in comparison to those of the self-professed god-kings of the ancient world?

Here, they had mobile, multi-purpose buildings. Each one served as a miniature fortress unto itself, able to deploy men or vehicles on a moment’s notice, while also providing the comfort of a palace for Dozer and his chosen leaders. The rank-and-file were not entirely left out, though. They were able to enjoy the fully stocked kitchens and refectories, as well the various training facilities.

It was important not to coddle the men, but it was equally important to give them a view of what they might one day be able to achieve, should they prove themselves worthy.

There were also immobile facilities in this camp, as well. And they were no primitive structures, either, despite being made almost entirely by materializers. The artistry in some of these buildings could’ve rivaled any of the ancient kingdoms of Qhenghis.

Their pristine and prestigious nature was in large part due to Natia. She always obsessed over decorations, regardless of how temporary their stay. Once upon time, he’d found that obsession rather obnoxious, but over the decades, he’d developed a fondness for her attentive eye, even if it did end up going to waste more often than not.

She was the first one to greet him upon his return, though he could see a few of the men running about, no doubt having been ordered into positions.

“Master,” said Natia with a welcoming nod. As ever, her perfectly calm voice and demeanor betrayed nothing of her thoughts, and nary a speck of dust was to be found on her brown-and-green fatigues despite all the debris around.

Another apparent after shock arrived, prompting Dozer’s next question. “What’s the source of this rumbling?”

‘Uncertain,’ answered her reaper, Akama, who floated close behind her. To Dozer’s eyes, she was a dog-sized, black lump with no eyes or ears to speak of--only an oval-shaped proboscis that sported rows of bloodied, smoldering teeth. ‘But it seems to be originating from deeper into the forest, from the direction of Kara’kuun.’

Gonna take three days

I'll have a new page for you on the 9th, at midnight PST. Thanks for your patience, everyone.

Page 3355

He would’ve liked to have a bit more time to himself, but matters needed to be taken care of. After this latest battle, he wanted to check up on their supplies back at camp. While he trusted Jari to handle logistics most of the time, it was still prudent to look on things himself regularly. A ship ran best when its captain made his presence known, after all. And of course there was still the matter of the research team. Hopefully, they would have--

The ground quaked under his feet as he was standing up. It was violent enough to kick up splintered debris all around him, though it did not make him stumble in the slightest.

He was instantly reminded of someone he loathed. This feeling was all too familiar.

Was she here? Had she chased him all the way across the Luthic Ocean? Surely not. She had much more pressing concerns on Eloa, at the moment.

But then again, he’d been thinking she might pop up for a while now, because her name had been conspicuously absent from most of the reports he’d read of the war. She should have been making ample trouble for his men over there, so the fact that she’d been quiet suggested that she was up to something. He’d thought maybe she would make a play on his country during all the chaos, maybe try to launch a counter invasion and finally end the stalemate while he was away.

He’d been hoping for that, actually. Such a move would almost certainly overextend her forces and make his eventual counter stroke that much more potent when he returned home.

He did not sense her yet, however, which was curious. If there was one thing about the Gargoyle of Korgum that he appreciated, it was that she tended not to bother concealing herself. It was likely too difficult for her, once she started making the ground rumble.

He leapt. His dirtied coat flapped wildly behind him as he arched high over the landscape, and he got a clear view of the distant horizon in all directions, save where the giants of Jaskadan still managed to touch the clouds and impede his sight.

His landing was soft, barely disturbing the dirt as his boots touched Eleg again. In a single bound, he’d made it all the way back to the encampment. Not such a difficult feat for him, despite how far today’s battle had strayed from its origin point.

Page 3354

From there, the tale split into different tellings. Some were clearly meant to portray Skapa more sympathetically, and others very much not. Unfortunately, it was impossible to tell what the truth was, anymore, even with the benefit of reapers and their long memories.

The problem, Dozer thought, was that Skapa himself was simply too famous. At this point, he was more like a mythic hero than an actual person, because throughout the course of recorded history, he had been the center of many such tales, though admittedly the tale of Skapa and the Forest was likely the oldest.

It certainly didn’t help that many storytellers seemed to have shoehorned Skapa into their fairy tales, most probably in an appeal to popularity or perhaps an attempt to give their story a greater sense of legitimacy.

Where this forest was concerned, however, many had long since come to the conclusion that the wisps from the tale were, in fact, the very same beings as the Dulvani.

And the Dulvani, rather unsurprisingly, hated that. They claimed to have no relation whatsoever--or that the tale itself was entirely fictional.

Dozer was obviously not the first treasure hunter to have come to this place, and the Dulvani had a reputation for being quite inhospitable to those seeking wealth from their forest. In fact, they were known to be utterly brutal in their isolationism. Certainly not the soft, friendly, fairy-like creatures that they were too frequently portrayed as in stories about them. He’d heard they would execute hapless travelers who cut down even a single tree for a campfire during the winter.

And looking at the sea of felled wood all around him, there was no doubt in his mind that they would now be holding a grudge against him for a very long time to come.

So be it, though.

He was not here for their forest, but if it continued to get in his way, he would continue to annihilate it. And besides, he'd left the trees as stumps. He hadn’t uprooted or burned very many of them. He just needed clear sight.

That was the real nuisance of Jaskadan. The ardor that flowed through it, obfuscating everyone’s senses and disorienting them--or even, at times, projecting hallucinations. After losing three decent soldiers to the forest, he’d decided that enough was enough. He didn’t need the extra hassle when the Mendocava were already being plenty annoying on their own.

Page 3353

At first, he answered everything he could, as their curiosity was matched only by his own, and he wished to know more of them, as well. In time, however, their questions became so incessant that he resorted instead to trying to make them laugh.

Within the clutches of the forest, the sun was often not visible at all, because the canopy of leaves overhead was so thick. And in the company of the wisps, Skapa lost track of the days, but he began to notice that he never seemed to grow tired or need sleep.

He began to suspect that the ethereal, hypnotic lights of the forest were having an effect upon him. He worried that, perhaps, this place was not the beautiful haven that it first appeared to be.

But he was enjoying himself, nonetheless. The wisps harbored many secrets, and they seemed to care for him.

They shared with him their visions, images from their minds of beautiful places they hoped to one day visit or return to. They shared with him their dreams, feelings from their hearts of things they hoped to one day do or accomplish. And perhaps most importantly of all, they shared with him their Pool of Stillness, a secluded body of water and nectar that invigorated him as he immersed himself in it.

The longer he spent within the forest, the more enraptured he could feel himself becoming. Increasingly, his life outside the forest seemed a distant memory, a thing of so little value compared to what he had discovered here that it was hardly even worth remembering.

And he was torn. In the back of his mind, his concerns were growing, the stubborn vestiges of his past self. But another part of him wanted to let go, to simply be.

Eventually, the wisps grew to love him so much that they deigned to share with him their greatest secret, the thing they treasured most of all.

It was the fallen star. The very thing that had led him into the forest in the first place.

When he saw it there, shining even more radiantly than anything else he had seen within the forest, he was reminded of his deep curiosity, of his thirst to learn more about the unknown. In this way, the star embodied everything he missed of his past self and revealed to him a dissatisfaction with the comfortable life that he had come to find here.

So he stole it and fled.

I'ma take a couple days

I'll have another page for you on the 3rd, at midnight PST. Thanks for reading, everyone.