Hector hesitated. “But what if... what if it gives me, like, a crazy vision or something when I touch it?”
‘Why would it do that?’
“I don’t know. Why did it fuse with the rock?”
‘Fair point.’ Garovel allowed a beat to pass. ‘Eh, but I’m sure it’ll be fine! Go on! Touch it! See if it does anything!’
“Garovel...”
‘What? Don’t chicken out on me now. Where are those massive iron balls of yours, all of a sudden?’
Hector sighed and chuckled at the same time. “You’re such an idiot, sometimes...”
‘Like reaper, like servant, my friend.’
“Fuuuck you...” Hector did lift his hand, though, readying himself to grab the edge of the mirror. It was probably safe enough, he figured.
He touched the golden paneling.
Nothing happened.
He gave it a second, just in case, but still nothing. So he grasped the edge of the mirror more firmly and gave it a tug.
It didn’t budge. Not even a little.
‘Put some elbow grease into it.’
“What if I break it?”
‘Eh, I’m sure it’ll be fine.’
“The more you say that, the less convinced I become.”
‘Alright, I’m mostly kidding this time. Don’t break it yet.’
“‘Yet?’”
‘Let’s just have a little look-see here...’ The reaper hovered nearer to it, looking at it from directly above now, straight into the reflection. ‘Hmm. Y’know what would’ve been a cool power for this thing to have? If it let me see myself in it.’
“Cool and useless.”
‘C’mon. Being cool is its own use.’
Hector decided to raise his iron platform a bit higher in order to join the reaper in looking into it. As one might’ve expected, he could indeed see himself in it.
Huh. So that was what his helmet and pauldrons looked like from the outside. Despite how much effort he’d put into making it, he hadn’t actually bothered to check what this new dark armor looked like in a mirror yet.
Pauline had mentioned that it looked scary, and... now he could see why she thought that. He hadn’t bothered to add any ornamentation to the helmet, because the material had simply been too difficult to work with, but it had still ended up with a T-shaped eye slit, thanks to the faceguard, and a smooth overall profile that fully concealed his neck, thanks to the way it interlocked seamlessly with the gorget.
And because of how dark it was, it made him look less like a person and more like a shadow.
A dark serial novel. Set in a modern fantasy world called Eleg. Mature language. Updates every night at midnight PST by ~400 words.
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Thursday, February 29, 2024
Wednesday, February 28, 2024
Page 3526
“How could that be?” said Hector. “And how do you know?”
‘How do I know? Because I was paying close attention, that’s how. Rathmore’s Materials are always of interest to me.’ The reaper hovered around the mirror, inspecting the different sides of it. ‘As for how it could be possible, well... the only explanation that I can think of is that the properties of the mirror interacted with the properties of the Gate, creating an unexpected result.’
Hmm. “But where did the mirror come from?”
‘You don’t recognize it? This is the same mirror that I had you grab during the middle of that worm fight, remember?’
Oh shit. Hector looked at it anew. The reaper was right.
‘You thought you’d dropped it at some point during all the confusion, didn’t you? You were quite bummed about it.’
“Yeah... I thought I’d lost another artifact of power, like with the Moon’s Wrath. Or if not an artifact, then something that we probably could’ve sold for a lot of money, at least.”
‘Right. We never did figure out what kind of power it harbored, if any. But I think we can safely say now that there was indeed something more to it. Otherwise, it never would’ve gotten stuck on the Gate like this.’
“Huh...”
‘In fact, this is... entirely unprecedented. In all the time I’ve been studying Rathmore’s Materials, never have I seen anything or anyone modify one of them in any way, apart from Rathmore himself.’
Dang. “When you put it like that, this, uh... this seems like kind of a big deal.”
‘It is.’ Garovel eyed Hector for a moment. ‘Wow, buddy. All this time, I had no idea you were the most powerful integrator since Rathmore. Talk about impressive.’
“I--?” Hector’s expression flattened. “Okay. First of all, I definitely didn’t do this. And second--”
‘You don’t know that. Maybe it was your aura playing havoc with things.’
“No. I don’t accept that. That’s bullshit, Garovel.”
The reaper laughed. ‘You seem surprisingly confident about that.’
“I’m confident that you’re trying to fuck with me.”
‘Heh, maybe. But we genuinely don’t know what caused this. I’m just having fun speculating, right now.’
“Uh-huh. Anyway, how do get it out of there?”
‘Good question. I suspect that we simply can’t. It looks like it’s fused with the stone. But go ahead and try pulling on it, if you want. Maybe looks are deceiving. Maybe it’ll slide free, easy as can be.’
‘How do I know? Because I was paying close attention, that’s how. Rathmore’s Materials are always of interest to me.’ The reaper hovered around the mirror, inspecting the different sides of it. ‘As for how it could be possible, well... the only explanation that I can think of is that the properties of the mirror interacted with the properties of the Gate, creating an unexpected result.’
Hmm. “But where did the mirror come from?”
‘You don’t recognize it? This is the same mirror that I had you grab during the middle of that worm fight, remember?’
Oh shit. Hector looked at it anew. The reaper was right.
‘You thought you’d dropped it at some point during all the confusion, didn’t you? You were quite bummed about it.’
“Yeah... I thought I’d lost another artifact of power, like with the Moon’s Wrath. Or if not an artifact, then something that we probably could’ve sold for a lot of money, at least.”
‘Right. We never did figure out what kind of power it harbored, if any. But I think we can safely say now that there was indeed something more to it. Otherwise, it never would’ve gotten stuck on the Gate like this.’
“Huh...”
‘In fact, this is... entirely unprecedented. In all the time I’ve been studying Rathmore’s Materials, never have I seen anything or anyone modify one of them in any way, apart from Rathmore himself.’
Dang. “When you put it like that, this, uh... this seems like kind of a big deal.”
‘It is.’ Garovel eyed Hector for a moment. ‘Wow, buddy. All this time, I had no idea you were the most powerful integrator since Rathmore. Talk about impressive.’
“I--?” Hector’s expression flattened. “Okay. First of all, I definitely didn’t do this. And second--”
‘You don’t know that. Maybe it was your aura playing havoc with things.’
“No. I don’t accept that. That’s bullshit, Garovel.”
The reaper laughed. ‘You seem surprisingly confident about that.’
“I’m confident that you’re trying to fuck with me.”
‘Heh, maybe. But we genuinely don’t know what caused this. I’m just having fun speculating, right now.’
“Uh-huh. Anyway, how do get it out of there?”
‘Good question. I suspect that we simply can’t. It looks like it’s fused with the stone. But go ahead and try pulling on it, if you want. Maybe looks are deceiving. Maybe it’ll slide free, easy as can be.’
Tuesday, February 27, 2024
Page 3525
‘I mean, the guy was brilliant. I’m not contesting that. Even if he didn’t actually create these things, he’s still the only person in history who’s ever been able to affect them in any way. And my interest in his Materials definitely stems from that fact, at least in part. I just feel it in my non-existent bones that these things must harbor some kind of incredible power or secret.’
“Well, this one was secretly a teleporter, so I guess your bones were right.”
‘Indeed.’
Hector circled around the base of the Gate, inspecting it. The formation was simple enough at a glance. Two big rocks, one almost twice the size of the other, similar in overall scale to a small office building. There hadn’t been much opportunity to examine the Gate before, so Hector wanted to take his time now.
He recalled Garovel mentioning that Rathmore had marked all of his works with a certain type of etching. Hector had seen it firsthand back in Himmekel, during the treasure hunt that ultimately led them to Malast. The etching had been quite hard to spot, though, nearly invisible to the naked eye.
He looked for it now on the Gate, getting up close to the rock and squinting. He was a little afraid of touching it with his bare hands, even though it was almost certainly fine to do so. There was just a slight fear in the back of his mind that it might suddenly teleport him back down to the Undercrust--or to some totally random place, maybe.
He was fairly sure it didn’t work like that, but still. A bit of caution wouldn’t hurt, he figured.
If there were any etchings on these rocks, then he wasn’t seeing them yet. It was quite hard to tell, though. He tried looking even closer.
‘Hector,’ came Garovel’s voice. ‘Over here.’
Hector ventured to where the reaper was pointing and found something entirely unexpected.
There was a flat object jutting out of the larger rock formation, about two-thirds of the way up to its peak. It had a golden sheen to it.
“What is that?”
Garovel was already up there, investigating. ‘Um... hmm. Wait a second. This is... a mirror.’
Hector raised an iron platform for himself to join the reaper. Indeed, it was a moderately large mirror with a golden, jewel-encrusted panel. “What the heck? Why would Rathmore stick a random mirror into his Gate?”
‘He didn’t,’ said Garovel. ‘This wasn’t here before.’
“Well, this one was secretly a teleporter, so I guess your bones were right.”
‘Indeed.’
Hector circled around the base of the Gate, inspecting it. The formation was simple enough at a glance. Two big rocks, one almost twice the size of the other, similar in overall scale to a small office building. There hadn’t been much opportunity to examine the Gate before, so Hector wanted to take his time now.
He recalled Garovel mentioning that Rathmore had marked all of his works with a certain type of etching. Hector had seen it firsthand back in Himmekel, during the treasure hunt that ultimately led them to Malast. The etching had been quite hard to spot, though, nearly invisible to the naked eye.
He looked for it now on the Gate, getting up close to the rock and squinting. He was a little afraid of touching it with his bare hands, even though it was almost certainly fine to do so. There was just a slight fear in the back of his mind that it might suddenly teleport him back down to the Undercrust--or to some totally random place, maybe.
He was fairly sure it didn’t work like that, but still. A bit of caution wouldn’t hurt, he figured.
If there were any etchings on these rocks, then he wasn’t seeing them yet. It was quite hard to tell, though. He tried looking even closer.
‘Hector,’ came Garovel’s voice. ‘Over here.’
Hector ventured to where the reaper was pointing and found something entirely unexpected.
There was a flat object jutting out of the larger rock formation, about two-thirds of the way up to its peak. It had a golden sheen to it.
“What is that?”
Garovel was already up there, investigating. ‘Um... hmm. Wait a second. This is... a mirror.’
Hector raised an iron platform for himself to join the reaper. Indeed, it was a moderately large mirror with a golden, jewel-encrusted panel. “What the heck? Why would Rathmore stick a random mirror into his Gate?”
‘He didn’t,’ said Garovel. ‘This wasn’t here before.’
Monday, February 26, 2024
Page 3524
It wasn’t quite as impressive as he remembered. From this high up, he could see most of the forest’s edges in the distance.
But perhaps he was being unfair. After having spent considerable time in the great Imara Forest of Lorent, this place felt downright quaint. Hence why House Carthrace wanted to preserve it, he supposed, rather than letting it dwindle away into nothing. Lorent clearly didn’t have such problems.
The Gate itself was quite easy to find, too. Not only was the Reserve smaller than he expected, but the battle that had taken place here had left a giant hole behind.
Which made him feel a little bit bad. He’d talked with a few different Carthraces now, not the least of which being Amelia, but the subject of their nature reserve and his involvement in its partial destruction had never come up.
He landed with a thick thud, not quite as graceful as he’d intended, feeling bolts of pain shoot up both legs as he barely managed to stay on his feet. Thankfully, he regained his composure quickly enough, which told him that he’d probably avoided injuring himself, at least.
The sundered battleground did seem to be recovering, he noticed. That was good. It looked like all the felled trees had been cleared away, too, leaving room for new sprouts to pop up all over the place. Or had those been planted by hand? Yeah, some of them must have been, if not all. A few were nearly as tall as he was already, and while he was no botanist, he was fairly sure that trees didn’t grow that quickly.
Some pristine red flowers were blooming amid the tall grass, as well, making for quite a painterly view as he laid eyes on and finally approached Rathmore’s Gate.
So this had the power of teleportation. In part, at least. Hector highly doubted that he and Garovel would be able to get it to work here and now. He wasn’t even sure what they would do with it if they could.
But it did make him wonder if it might be capable of anything else. “So Rathmore named all these things after himself,” said Hector, recalling what Garovel told him before, “but they actually existed long before he did, right?”
‘Yep. Kind of a wily prick, that Rathmore.’
“And you knew him personally, you said.”
‘That’s right.’
“Doesn’t seem like you have many fond memories of the guy...”
‘Actually, I do. It’s just that I have some particularly horrible ones, as well. Horrible enough to ruin everything else.’
“Ah...”
But perhaps he was being unfair. After having spent considerable time in the great Imara Forest of Lorent, this place felt downright quaint. Hence why House Carthrace wanted to preserve it, he supposed, rather than letting it dwindle away into nothing. Lorent clearly didn’t have such problems.
The Gate itself was quite easy to find, too. Not only was the Reserve smaller than he expected, but the battle that had taken place here had left a giant hole behind.
Which made him feel a little bit bad. He’d talked with a few different Carthraces now, not the least of which being Amelia, but the subject of their nature reserve and his involvement in its partial destruction had never come up.
He landed with a thick thud, not quite as graceful as he’d intended, feeling bolts of pain shoot up both legs as he barely managed to stay on his feet. Thankfully, he regained his composure quickly enough, which told him that he’d probably avoided injuring himself, at least.
The sundered battleground did seem to be recovering, he noticed. That was good. It looked like all the felled trees had been cleared away, too, leaving room for new sprouts to pop up all over the place. Or had those been planted by hand? Yeah, some of them must have been, if not all. A few were nearly as tall as he was already, and while he was no botanist, he was fairly sure that trees didn’t grow that quickly.
Some pristine red flowers were blooming amid the tall grass, as well, making for quite a painterly view as he laid eyes on and finally approached Rathmore’s Gate.
So this had the power of teleportation. In part, at least. Hector highly doubted that he and Garovel would be able to get it to work here and now. He wasn’t even sure what they would do with it if they could.
But it did make him wonder if it might be capable of anything else. “So Rathmore named all these things after himself,” said Hector, recalling what Garovel told him before, “but they actually existed long before he did, right?”
‘Yep. Kind of a wily prick, that Rathmore.’
“And you knew him personally, you said.”
‘That’s right.’
“Doesn’t seem like you have many fond memories of the guy...”
‘Actually, I do. It’s just that I have some particularly horrible ones, as well. Horrible enough to ruin everything else.’
“Ah...”
Sunday, February 25, 2024
Page 3523
‘You should do something nice for him,’ said Garovel. ‘Get him a present for being such a bro all the time.’
‘What kind of present can I get for one of the richest dudes in the country?’
‘Beats me. Put some thought into it. That’s the part they say counts, right?’
‘Real helpful, Garovel.’
In the end, he decided to trust the reaper’s judgment about being able to handle more intense flying maneuvers.
So he stepped it up, pushing for speed. He told Garovel not to render him numb, because he thought that pain might actually be the best way to gauge how much his own body was able to handle.
That nearly turned out to be a mistake. Rather than pain, he found instead that he was struggling not to pass out.
He was stubborn, though. In addition to no numbing, he also went without the undead vigor and regeneration, knowing that they would just leave him exhausted afterwards.
He didn’t quite recall how much of that fight he’d done without those enhancements, but he did know that he’d endured the last part of it that way. Specifically, he remembered how much of a relief it was when Garovel invoked the regeneration once it was all over.
So he knew that he could do this. These movements were nowhere near as intense.
But why did it feel so much harder, then? Because the stakes were so much lower? Because he was less focused?
Agh.
Mind over matter, huh?
He hadn’t expected the difference to be this dramatic, though. It made him wonder if he was remembering things wrong. He supposed training simply didn’t compare to the real thing.
The flying practice wasn’t meant to be fun, but as they sailed over the capital city of Sescoria, catching glimpses of famous buildings and landmarks, Hector couldn’t help wanting to take in the view a little more.
He made sure to gain plenty of altitude, though. No sense in spooking people on the ground by flying too low.
When he saw Bosliat Palace, he knew they were making good time and decided to slow down a bit to admire it. The place looked completely different from above. Being able to see the entire breadth of the compound made him wonder how Warrenhold might look from this perspective, if it weren’t underground.
Briefly, he considered popping in to say hi to the Queen, but she was probably busy. And besides, he felt like she might surprise him with some kind of new task or request.
So he pressed on, pushing for even more speed this time. It was about staying focused, Hector felt. Concentrating. Maintaining the flying armor wasn’t enough. He had to press harder. Remind himself what he’d been able to do before. The urgency.
Sescoria quickly fell away into the horizon behind him, and soon enough, the vast forest of the Reserve came into view.
‘What kind of present can I get for one of the richest dudes in the country?’
‘Beats me. Put some thought into it. That’s the part they say counts, right?’
‘Real helpful, Garovel.’
In the end, he decided to trust the reaper’s judgment about being able to handle more intense flying maneuvers.
So he stepped it up, pushing for speed. He told Garovel not to render him numb, because he thought that pain might actually be the best way to gauge how much his own body was able to handle.
That nearly turned out to be a mistake. Rather than pain, he found instead that he was struggling not to pass out.
He was stubborn, though. In addition to no numbing, he also went without the undead vigor and regeneration, knowing that they would just leave him exhausted afterwards.
He didn’t quite recall how much of that fight he’d done without those enhancements, but he did know that he’d endured the last part of it that way. Specifically, he remembered how much of a relief it was when Garovel invoked the regeneration once it was all over.
So he knew that he could do this. These movements were nowhere near as intense.
But why did it feel so much harder, then? Because the stakes were so much lower? Because he was less focused?
Agh.
Mind over matter, huh?
He hadn’t expected the difference to be this dramatic, though. It made him wonder if he was remembering things wrong. He supposed training simply didn’t compare to the real thing.
The flying practice wasn’t meant to be fun, but as they sailed over the capital city of Sescoria, catching glimpses of famous buildings and landmarks, Hector couldn’t help wanting to take in the view a little more.
He made sure to gain plenty of altitude, though. No sense in spooking people on the ground by flying too low.
When he saw Bosliat Palace, he knew they were making good time and decided to slow down a bit to admire it. The place looked completely different from above. Being able to see the entire breadth of the compound made him wonder how Warrenhold might look from this perspective, if it weren’t underground.
Briefly, he considered popping in to say hi to the Queen, but she was probably busy. And besides, he felt like she might surprise him with some kind of new task or request.
So he pressed on, pushing for even more speed this time. It was about staying focused, Hector felt. Concentrating. Maintaining the flying armor wasn’t enough. He had to press harder. Remind himself what he’d been able to do before. The urgency.
Sescoria quickly fell away into the horizon behind him, and soon enough, the vast forest of the Reserve came into view.
Saturday, February 24, 2024
Page 3522
With Garovel on board, Hector was a bit reluctant to go too crazy with the flight practice. That last fight with Banda had been the absolute pinnacle of what he could currently achieve when it came to flying--and he was still feeling the after effects, even now. Aches and pains lingered from breaking every single bone in his body a dozen times over.
He wasn’t sure the damage had ever been that extensive before. Thinking back, it was tough to compare. The fight with Harper Norez had been pretty damn bad, though. And the time he’d been blown to smithereens. And maybe the time he’d gotten dissected...
But no, this time still felt worse, somehow. Sure, he might’ve built his pain tolerance quite a bit since back then, but the intensity of the pain wasn’t the issue. It was the stubbornness of it. He again found himself in a state of existence where it felt like he might never be pain-free again. Like all these dull aches were just a fact of life now.
Was this how old people felt all the time?
Goddamn did he sympathize.
Still, he tried to push himself a bit during the flight to the Carthrace Nature Reserve. It was good chance to test his actual comfort level, now that he had definitive experience with being incredibly uncomfortable.
He kept checking in on Garovel, who’d tucked himself into the armor, but the reaper just kept telling him that he was fine.
‘Are you sure?’ said Hector. ‘I don’t want to bank too hard to the right and accidentally knock you out cold. Or worse.’
‘Relax already, you worry wart. As long as I’m attached to your body, I’m unaffected by physics.’
‘...Is that really how it works? Kinda sounds like bullshit.’
‘You think I’d bullshit you about something like that?’
‘A little, yeah.’
‘Wow, buddy. What the hell?’
‘Or you could just be honestly mistaken. I mean, you’re not exactly the most safety-conscious person I’ve ever met, Garovel.’
‘Okay, you’re the LAST person who can lecture me about that, Mr. Dimension-Hopping-Dinosaur-Wrestler. At least I’ve never needed to be puked out of a monster’s stomach before.’
‘...Wait, how’d you learn about the puking? I don’t think I mentioned that part.’
‘Roman told me.’
‘He saw that?’
‘He sure did. And judging from the way he described it to me, I think he might be scarred for life now, by the way.’
‘Aw, shit...’
He wasn’t sure the damage had ever been that extensive before. Thinking back, it was tough to compare. The fight with Harper Norez had been pretty damn bad, though. And the time he’d been blown to smithereens. And maybe the time he’d gotten dissected...
But no, this time still felt worse, somehow. Sure, he might’ve built his pain tolerance quite a bit since back then, but the intensity of the pain wasn’t the issue. It was the stubbornness of it. He again found himself in a state of existence where it felt like he might never be pain-free again. Like all these dull aches were just a fact of life now.
Was this how old people felt all the time?
Goddamn did he sympathize.
Still, he tried to push himself a bit during the flight to the Carthrace Nature Reserve. It was good chance to test his actual comfort level, now that he had definitive experience with being incredibly uncomfortable.
He kept checking in on Garovel, who’d tucked himself into the armor, but the reaper just kept telling him that he was fine.
‘Are you sure?’ said Hector. ‘I don’t want to bank too hard to the right and accidentally knock you out cold. Or worse.’
‘Relax already, you worry wart. As long as I’m attached to your body, I’m unaffected by physics.’
‘...Is that really how it works? Kinda sounds like bullshit.’
‘You think I’d bullshit you about something like that?’
‘A little, yeah.’
‘Wow, buddy. What the hell?’
‘Or you could just be honestly mistaken. I mean, you’re not exactly the most safety-conscious person I’ve ever met, Garovel.’
‘Okay, you’re the LAST person who can lecture me about that, Mr. Dimension-Hopping-Dinosaur-Wrestler. At least I’ve never needed to be puked out of a monster’s stomach before.’
‘...Wait, how’d you learn about the puking? I don’t think I mentioned that part.’
‘Roman told me.’
‘He saw that?’
‘He sure did. And judging from the way he described it to me, I think he might be scarred for life now, by the way.’
‘Aw, shit...’
Friday, February 23, 2024
Page 3521
Not long afterward, the two of them went their separate ways, with Ms. Rogers returning to her office in the Tower of Night and Hector going to grab a bite to eat in the refectory. He spotted Garovel along the way, chatting with a few of the other reapers, as usual, but decided not to bother him.
Garovel soon found him on his own, though, and brought up a subject that the both of them had been meaning to find the time and opportunity to address for a while now.
The subject of Rathmore’s Gate.
The Gate was a peculiar location, deep within the Carthrace Nature Reserve, where a large, seemingly natural rock formation resided. The first time he’d visited the place had been during a battle for Atreya’s fate against a group of Abolish terrorists. The second time had been upon their return from the Undercrust, via some kind of still-not-understood teleportation mechanism and the newly ascended “god” Royo Raju. Or had that been Malast’s doing? Hector couldn’t quite recall.
Regardless, they had been wanting to return there and investigate the location again, but it was starting to seem like they would never find the time. Hell, even now, when things were starting to feel relatively calm again, Hector still found himself a bit reluctant to go.
But he supposed if he’d been able to justify a trip to Klein, then he could probably justify this, instead.
It helped that Atreya was such a small country. And that he could fly pretty damn fast now with his armor. He wouldn’t need to be away from Warrenhold for all that long, and he could of course keep in constant contact with the castle’s guards and scouts, not the least of which was one Pauline Gaolanet in her roost at the top of the tallest aboveground tower that Hector had materialized.
Plus, he didn’t know if he was ever going to be completely free from concerns over an attack. Even if the war came to an end tomorrow, that didn’t necessarily mean Atreya and Lorent were much safer. In fact, maybe that would make the Abolish remnants go looking for some softer targets that weren’t being defended by the Vanguard.
Which was assuming that Abolish ended up on the losing side. The other possibility... Hector didn’t even want to think about that.
So he decided, as ever, to think of this as another opportunity for training.
Garovel soon found him on his own, though, and brought up a subject that the both of them had been meaning to find the time and opportunity to address for a while now.
The subject of Rathmore’s Gate.
The Gate was a peculiar location, deep within the Carthrace Nature Reserve, where a large, seemingly natural rock formation resided. The first time he’d visited the place had been during a battle for Atreya’s fate against a group of Abolish terrorists. The second time had been upon their return from the Undercrust, via some kind of still-not-understood teleportation mechanism and the newly ascended “god” Royo Raju. Or had that been Malast’s doing? Hector couldn’t quite recall.
Regardless, they had been wanting to return there and investigate the location again, but it was starting to seem like they would never find the time. Hell, even now, when things were starting to feel relatively calm again, Hector still found himself a bit reluctant to go.
But he supposed if he’d been able to justify a trip to Klein, then he could probably justify this, instead.
It helped that Atreya was such a small country. And that he could fly pretty damn fast now with his armor. He wouldn’t need to be away from Warrenhold for all that long, and he could of course keep in constant contact with the castle’s guards and scouts, not the least of which was one Pauline Gaolanet in her roost at the top of the tallest aboveground tower that Hector had materialized.
Plus, he didn’t know if he was ever going to be completely free from concerns over an attack. Even if the war came to an end tomorrow, that didn’t necessarily mean Atreya and Lorent were much safer. In fact, maybe that would make the Abolish remnants go looking for some softer targets that weren’t being defended by the Vanguard.
Which was assuming that Abolish ended up on the losing side. The other possibility... Hector didn’t even want to think about that.
So he decided, as ever, to think of this as another opportunity for training.
Thursday, February 22, 2024
Page 3520
Why was he getting the impression that she wasn’t being entirely honest with him here?
He supposed he was putting too much thought into it at this point. Better to let it go. “It’s okay, Ms. Rogers. I might’ve, uh... er... I think I might’ve been at fault, too.”
Her gaze twitched. “In what way?”
“By not being clearer from the start, I... put you in a bit of an awkward position, didn’t I?”
“No, lord, you did nothing wrong.”
“That’s kind of you to say, Ms. Rogers, but you don’t need to sugarcoat things for me. I’d rather you spoke your mind. I’m still new to this lording business, after all.”
At that, the Stewardess of Warrenhold was quiet.
Hector, finding that curious, decided to just wait for her. Perhaps she was thinking about what to say.
And indeed, that appeared to be so. “...In that case, lord, please forgive me if what I am about to say comes off as rude. I do not mean it that way.”
Aha. He braced himself.
“It seems to me,” she went on, “that, occasionally, you do not quite realize just how much more valuable your time is, compared to that of other people. I suspect this is because you are... humble in the extreme, to say the least. Which is an admirable thing, by and large, but there are also certain realities of your station that should not be ignored, both in terms of your own scheduling and in terms how others are to perceive you.”
That was a lot to take in. Hector chose not to say anything right away, instead just mulling her words over. On impulse, he wanted to disagree, but this was someone whose opinion he held in high regard, so he didn’t want to discard her thoughts here too quickly.
She returned the favor of giving him time to think. But after a while, she decided to say a bit more. “But to be clear, lord, I do indeed think that you did nothing wrong in this particular instance, especially now that I have have given it more thought. This was clearly a more important matter to you than I at first realized. I will be more careful in the future.”
Hmm. Hector was starting to feel like an asshole. But he didn’t quite know how, why, or what he might say or do to counteract that feeling, so he merely remained silent. Backpedaling didn’t seem like the right call here, either.
Man.
He’d thought he was getting a little better at being a lord, but maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he barely knew anything.
He supposed he was putting too much thought into it at this point. Better to let it go. “It’s okay, Ms. Rogers. I might’ve, uh... er... I think I might’ve been at fault, too.”
Her gaze twitched. “In what way?”
“By not being clearer from the start, I... put you in a bit of an awkward position, didn’t I?”
“No, lord, you did nothing wrong.”
“That’s kind of you to say, Ms. Rogers, but you don’t need to sugarcoat things for me. I’d rather you spoke your mind. I’m still new to this lording business, after all.”
At that, the Stewardess of Warrenhold was quiet.
Hector, finding that curious, decided to just wait for her. Perhaps she was thinking about what to say.
And indeed, that appeared to be so. “...In that case, lord, please forgive me if what I am about to say comes off as rude. I do not mean it that way.”
Aha. He braced himself.
“It seems to me,” she went on, “that, occasionally, you do not quite realize just how much more valuable your time is, compared to that of other people. I suspect this is because you are... humble in the extreme, to say the least. Which is an admirable thing, by and large, but there are also certain realities of your station that should not be ignored, both in terms of your own scheduling and in terms how others are to perceive you.”
That was a lot to take in. Hector chose not to say anything right away, instead just mulling her words over. On impulse, he wanted to disagree, but this was someone whose opinion he held in high regard, so he didn’t want to discard her thoughts here too quickly.
She returned the favor of giving him time to think. But after a while, she decided to say a bit more. “But to be clear, lord, I do indeed think that you did nothing wrong in this particular instance, especially now that I have have given it more thought. This was clearly a more important matter to you than I at first realized. I will be more careful in the future.”
Hmm. Hector was starting to feel like an asshole. But he didn’t quite know how, why, or what he might say or do to counteract that feeling, so he merely remained silent. Backpedaling didn’t seem like the right call here, either.
Man.
He’d thought he was getting a little better at being a lord, but maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he barely knew anything.
Tuesday, February 20, 2024
Taking one day
Just one. Apologies. And thanks for reading, as always. As well as for looking so good all the time. Whatever you're doing, it's working. Yep. You're welcome. Feel free to repay the compliment, by the way.
Page 3519
They exited the aboveground building together, and Ms. Rogers appeared with a couple of Rainlords behind her. She didn’t say anything, but Hector could infer that she meant to take the man off Hector’s hands for him.
Hector decided against that, however. He walked with Fred back to the man’s four-door sedan and watched the man drive away, though not before making sure that the guy had a means of getting in touch with him again. Rather than keeping Ms. Rogers as their go-between, Hector gave Fred his personal number.
He returned underground with Ms. Rogers and the Rainlords.
She was noticeably quiet, Hector felt. Usually, she wouldn’t hesitate to use these walking periods to remind him of one thing or another, so the fact that she wasn’t doing that now made him wonder what was going through her mind.
Truthfully, he was still a bit displeased with her, but he also didn’t want to let one mistake override all the great work that she had done for him, either. That wouldn’t be fair to her.
And things seemed to have worked out with Fred, anyway, so there was really no point in staying upset.
But before he let her off the hook, there was one thing he needed to double-check.
He asked the Rainlords to give them some privacy. One of them, Matteo Delaguna, was slower to acquiesce than the other, but not by much.
“Ms. Rogers,” he said once they were alone in a side room near the top of the Entry Tower. “Do you understand why I got upset with you about Fred?”
She was a bit slow to answer. “Because you felt that I had disrespected him. And by extension, since I was representing you, I made it appear as if you had disrespected him.”
“Okay, but do you understand why I thought it was disrespectful?”
“...Because you wanted to express your contrition to the man. If you had gone to him, it would have made for a clearer indication of your sincerity, as you would effectively be saying that his time and convenience were more important than your own.”
Huh. Well, that was pretty much spot on. As he should’ve expected, considering how sharp he knew Ms. Rogers to be.
But that also confused him a little. “That’s exactly right,” he said. “So... why did you have him come here?”
She paused again. “It was a mistake, lord. I can only apologize.”
Hector decided against that, however. He walked with Fred back to the man’s four-door sedan and watched the man drive away, though not before making sure that the guy had a means of getting in touch with him again. Rather than keeping Ms. Rogers as their go-between, Hector gave Fred his personal number.
He returned underground with Ms. Rogers and the Rainlords.
She was noticeably quiet, Hector felt. Usually, she wouldn’t hesitate to use these walking periods to remind him of one thing or another, so the fact that she wasn’t doing that now made him wonder what was going through her mind.
Truthfully, he was still a bit displeased with her, but he also didn’t want to let one mistake override all the great work that she had done for him, either. That wouldn’t be fair to her.
And things seemed to have worked out with Fred, anyway, so there was really no point in staying upset.
But before he let her off the hook, there was one thing he needed to double-check.
He asked the Rainlords to give them some privacy. One of them, Matteo Delaguna, was slower to acquiesce than the other, but not by much.
“Ms. Rogers,” he said once they were alone in a side room near the top of the Entry Tower. “Do you understand why I got upset with you about Fred?”
She was a bit slow to answer. “Because you felt that I had disrespected him. And by extension, since I was representing you, I made it appear as if you had disrespected him.”
“Okay, but do you understand why I thought it was disrespectful?”
“...Because you wanted to express your contrition to the man. If you had gone to him, it would have made for a clearer indication of your sincerity, as you would effectively be saying that his time and convenience were more important than your own.”
Huh. Well, that was pretty much spot on. As he should’ve expected, considering how sharp he knew Ms. Rogers to be.
But that also confused him a little. “That’s exactly right,” he said. “So... why did you have him come here?”
She paused again. “It was a mistake, lord. I can only apologize.”
Monday, February 19, 2024
Page 3518
Well, Hector was at a bit of a loss now. He truly had not considered what to do if this guy had simply refused to take the money.
Huh.
“Sure is tempting, though,” said Fred. “Wish I could accept, but I just can’t. Frankly, lord, I don’t think you owe me anything. Wouldn’t feel right, taking this money.”
“Hmm,” hummed Hector, thinking. “Not even for the sake of the wife and kids that you just mentioned?”
“Eh, fuck ‘em. It’s my decision, not theirs.”
Hector couldn’t hold back a snort. “Are you being serious, right now, sir?”
“Mostly. In all the ways that matter, at least.”
“I’m not sure what to make of that. Are you a man of incredible integrity or just a terrible father?”
“What, I can’t be both?”
That pulled a laugh out of Hector, and he shook his head, not knowing how to respond.
“Look, I love my family, but we’re doing just fine, financially. This isn’t needed and would probably spoil the shit out of them, anyway. It’s hard enough to prevent my kids from turning into insufferable little brats, as is.”
“That is... definitely one way of looking at it, I suppose.”
“Okay, lord, y’know what? How would I explain where this money came from, hmm? Oh, the new Lord of Warrenhold decided to just up and gift it to me? No. I’m a cop. People will think I’m on the take and just lying about it. Badly.”
Well, that argument held a little more water, Hector felt. “Alright, uh... what if, instead of giving the money to you, I give it to someone else of your choosing? Or multiple someones, if you prefer.”
Fred’s head reared back as he took that into consideration.
“Maybe an organization?” pushed Hector. “A charity?”
“This got a lot more complicated, all of a sudden.”
“You don’t have to decide, right now. I’ll keep the money in reserve for whenever you make up your mind. Sound good?”
Fred stared at him for a moment, then exhaled a curt laugh. “You’re really something, y’know that?”
“You’re one to talk,” said Hector.
“I was trying to pay you a compliment.”
“So was I.”
Fred’s gaze went to the table briefly, then he smiled and stood up, offering Hector a handshake. “Thank you for this. I’ll take some time to think about it and get back to you.”
Hector stood and took the handshake. “Alright, then.”
Huh.
“Sure is tempting, though,” said Fred. “Wish I could accept, but I just can’t. Frankly, lord, I don’t think you owe me anything. Wouldn’t feel right, taking this money.”
“Hmm,” hummed Hector, thinking. “Not even for the sake of the wife and kids that you just mentioned?”
“Eh, fuck ‘em. It’s my decision, not theirs.”
Hector couldn’t hold back a snort. “Are you being serious, right now, sir?”
“Mostly. In all the ways that matter, at least.”
“I’m not sure what to make of that. Are you a man of incredible integrity or just a terrible father?”
“What, I can’t be both?”
That pulled a laugh out of Hector, and he shook his head, not knowing how to respond.
“Look, I love my family, but we’re doing just fine, financially. This isn’t needed and would probably spoil the shit out of them, anyway. It’s hard enough to prevent my kids from turning into insufferable little brats, as is.”
“That is... definitely one way of looking at it, I suppose.”
“Okay, lord, y’know what? How would I explain where this money came from, hmm? Oh, the new Lord of Warrenhold decided to just up and gift it to me? No. I’m a cop. People will think I’m on the take and just lying about it. Badly.”
Well, that argument held a little more water, Hector felt. “Alright, uh... what if, instead of giving the money to you, I give it to someone else of your choosing? Or multiple someones, if you prefer.”
Fred’s head reared back as he took that into consideration.
“Maybe an organization?” pushed Hector. “A charity?”
“This got a lot more complicated, all of a sudden.”
“You don’t have to decide, right now. I’ll keep the money in reserve for whenever you make up your mind. Sound good?”
Fred stared at him for a moment, then exhaled a curt laugh. “You’re really something, y’know that?”
“You’re one to talk,” said Hector.
“I was trying to pay you a compliment.”
“So was I.”
Fred’s gaze went to the table briefly, then he smiled and stood up, offering Hector a handshake. “Thank you for this. I’ll take some time to think about it and get back to you.”
Hector stood and took the handshake. “Alright, then.”
Thursday, February 15, 2024
Page 3517
“Hafta say,” Fred went on, “it was a very strange feeling, seeing the kid that messed me up continue to make such crazy headlines, week in and week out. Didn’t know what to make of it all. First, you were the biggest villain in the country, then the biggest hero, and now you’re apparently the most powerful lord in Atreya, to boot, goin’ around, givin’ the other lords what for, showin’ ‘em who’s boss with that new bank of yours.”
Hector still didn’t know what to say, but he felt like he couldn’t let that last part go. “I don’t think that’s quite how it went down, sir...”
The man chuckled. “If you say so, lord. But from my perspective, you are an enigma and a half. Because despite all that, despite how much else you clearly have going on in your life, you decide to make time for me, of all people. A man who, apparently, was hunting you down unjustly, acting as nothing more than a stooge for some... foreign coup attempt, was it? I’m still not too sure I understand what went down in the capital last year.”
Geez. For how quiet this guy was earlier, he sure was speaking his mind now, Hector thought.
“My point, lord, is that you have no reason to be doing this for me. And it’s weirding me out. So thank you for your thoughtful generosity, but I don’t think I can accept this money.”
Hector blinked. “...Are you sure?”
Fred eyed the check one more time. “No. I’m not sure. But I try to listen to my gut whenever I’m on the verge of making potentially life-changing decisions, and right now, it’s telling me that I shouldn’t take this. Assuming you’ll actually take no for an answer, lord.”
Wow.
Um.
Damn.
“...If you’re worried about there being some sort of string attached to this money,” said Hector, “then I can assure you that there isn’t. Genuinely, you can just take it and go, and I will never contact you again. I promise.”
That seemed to give Fred pause again, though not for long. He shook his head. “Thank you, but my answer is still no, lord.”
He blinked again. “...And you called me an enigma.”
The man chortled. “Fair is fair, I suppose.”
Hector had to ask one more time. “You’re really, one hundred percent sure that you don’t want to accept this?”
Fred sighed and scratched his brow. “Yeah...” He said it almost sadly, as if he was somehow exasperated with his own decision.
Hector still didn’t know what to say, but he felt like he couldn’t let that last part go. “I don’t think that’s quite how it went down, sir...”
The man chuckled. “If you say so, lord. But from my perspective, you are an enigma and a half. Because despite all that, despite how much else you clearly have going on in your life, you decide to make time for me, of all people. A man who, apparently, was hunting you down unjustly, acting as nothing more than a stooge for some... foreign coup attempt, was it? I’m still not too sure I understand what went down in the capital last year.”
Geez. For how quiet this guy was earlier, he sure was speaking his mind now, Hector thought.
“My point, lord, is that you have no reason to be doing this for me. And it’s weirding me out. So thank you for your thoughtful generosity, but I don’t think I can accept this money.”
Hector blinked. “...Are you sure?”
Fred eyed the check one more time. “No. I’m not sure. But I try to listen to my gut whenever I’m on the verge of making potentially life-changing decisions, and right now, it’s telling me that I shouldn’t take this. Assuming you’ll actually take no for an answer, lord.”
Wow.
Um.
Damn.
“...If you’re worried about there being some sort of string attached to this money,” said Hector, “then I can assure you that there isn’t. Genuinely, you can just take it and go, and I will never contact you again. I promise.”
That seemed to give Fred pause again, though not for long. He shook his head. “Thank you, but my answer is still no, lord.”
He blinked again. “...And you called me an enigma.”
The man chortled. “Fair is fair, I suppose.”
Hector had to ask one more time. “You’re really, one hundred percent sure that you don’t want to accept this?”
Fred sighed and scratched his brow. “Yeah...” He said it almost sadly, as if he was somehow exasperated with his own decision.
Wednesday, February 14, 2024
Page 3516
And now, here he was. Probably confused as hell.
Hector tried to think of something else to say, but nothing was coming to mind. Damn, this was getting awkward fast.
At length, Officer Michaels finally said something else. “Why are you bothering with this? Not that I’m not grateful, but... insurance already took care of my medical expenses, which weren’t even comparable to what you’re offering me here. You worried I’ll sue you or something? Because frankly, I don’t think I’d have much of a case. And even if I had, I’m not sure I would’ve been able to get this much out of you...”
There were a lot ways that Hector could answer that. He took a few moments to think through them all before settling on the simplest one. “I just think it’s the right thing to do.”
Fred held his gaze steadily, saying nothing.
“I’m sorry for making you come all the way out here, by the way. I intended to visit you in Klein, but uh, some wires got crossed, I guess. And then you showed up before I could fix them.”
“It’s fine. Wanted some time away from the wife and kids, anyway.”
Was that a joke? Probably. Hector decided to smile. “How are things over in Klein, by the way?”
“Uh... pretty normal, I’d say. Why do you ask?”
“No real reason. Guess I’m just curious about how people are doing across the country. What with the war and everything.”
“Oh.” Fred allowed a beat to pass. “Well, if you want a beat cop’s opinion, then I’d say that people are scared, but not all that much more than usual. Foreign conflicts have always been terrifying to hear about. This one’s just a bit closer than we’d like.”
Understandable, Hector supposed. It wasn’t so long ago that he’d felt similarly. Hearing about wars abroad felt unsettling but thankfully also quite distant. So when that distance began to shrink...
“Way I hear it,” said Fred, “you’ve gotten involved with Lorent, which is even closer to the war than we are. You plannin’ on sticking your neck out even further than that?”
What a question. Hector felt like he should be firm here. “Not at all. The exact opposite, actually. I feel like if I do something crazy, it might put Atreya at risk, which is the last thing I want.”
“Ah. Big hero with big concerns, eh?”
Hector didn’t know what to say to that.
Hector tried to think of something else to say, but nothing was coming to mind. Damn, this was getting awkward fast.
At length, Officer Michaels finally said something else. “Why are you bothering with this? Not that I’m not grateful, but... insurance already took care of my medical expenses, which weren’t even comparable to what you’re offering me here. You worried I’ll sue you or something? Because frankly, I don’t think I’d have much of a case. And even if I had, I’m not sure I would’ve been able to get this much out of you...”
There were a lot ways that Hector could answer that. He took a few moments to think through them all before settling on the simplest one. “I just think it’s the right thing to do.”
Fred held his gaze steadily, saying nothing.
“I’m sorry for making you come all the way out here, by the way. I intended to visit you in Klein, but uh, some wires got crossed, I guess. And then you showed up before I could fix them.”
“It’s fine. Wanted some time away from the wife and kids, anyway.”
Was that a joke? Probably. Hector decided to smile. “How are things over in Klein, by the way?”
“Uh... pretty normal, I’d say. Why do you ask?”
“No real reason. Guess I’m just curious about how people are doing across the country. What with the war and everything.”
“Oh.” Fred allowed a beat to pass. “Well, if you want a beat cop’s opinion, then I’d say that people are scared, but not all that much more than usual. Foreign conflicts have always been terrifying to hear about. This one’s just a bit closer than we’d like.”
Understandable, Hector supposed. It wasn’t so long ago that he’d felt similarly. Hearing about wars abroad felt unsettling but thankfully also quite distant. So when that distance began to shrink...
“Way I hear it,” said Fred, “you’ve gotten involved with Lorent, which is even closer to the war than we are. You plannin’ on sticking your neck out even further than that?”
What a question. Hector felt like he should be firm here. “Not at all. The exact opposite, actually. I feel like if I do something crazy, it might put Atreya at risk, which is the last thing I want.”
“Ah. Big hero with big concerns, eh?”
Hector didn’t know what to say to that.
Tuesday, February 13, 2024
Page 3515 -- CCXCIII.
Zeff had to admit: the Monster was being oddly accommodating here. Considering how much leverage Gohvis had over him, holding his daughter captive, there was obviously quite a different approach that the man could have decided to take.
But then, maybe Gohvis was just trying to use the carrot before resorting to the stick.
Zeff didn’t really want to find out, though it certainly would’ve clarified a few things about the mysterious character of this man in front of him. Was it worth pushing for, he wondered? To gain vital information?
No. Not yet, at least. Not before consulting Ax and the others.
And so, he found himself holding his tongue yet again. Probably the wiser course of action in the presence of these juggernauts.
Yet, somehow, he still couldn’t help feeling disappointed in himself.
Chapter Two Hundred Ninety-Three: ‘Considerations of yore...’
Click to display entire chapter at once -- (mobile link)
“...This is too generous, lord.”
“No, it isn’t. I broke your arm, officer. Truthfully, this isn’t even close to enough. If there’s something else you want from me, just say it, and I’ll try to make it happen.” Hector bobbed his head a little. “As long as it’s not too crazy.”
The uniformed police officer on the other side of the table just looked at the check in front of him. The man hadn’t said very much since arriving here at Warrenhold.
It had taken Hector quite a while to track this guy down, in part because he’d been so damn busy and kept forgetting about it. But once he’d finally remembered to tell Ms. Rogers about it, the task hadn’t taken very long at all.
This man here was Officer Fred Michaels of the Klein City Police Department. And he was the poor guy whom Hector had injured during that time period when virtually every member of law enforcement in Atreya had been hunting him down.
It had been a sloppy, frustrating mistake, and Hector had been wanting to make amends for it ever since.
Fred, however, wasn’t giving him much to go on, here. The man merely remained stone-faced throughout this whole meeting.
Hector could only imagine what might’ve been going through the guy’s head. When Ms. Rogers told him that she’d put in a request for Fred to come to Warrenhold, Hector had actually gotten a little upset with her. He’d intended to go to Klein himself, not make the officer come all the way here, but by the time he learned of the situation, it was too late. Fred was already on his way.
But then, maybe Gohvis was just trying to use the carrot before resorting to the stick.
Zeff didn’t really want to find out, though it certainly would’ve clarified a few things about the mysterious character of this man in front of him. Was it worth pushing for, he wondered? To gain vital information?
No. Not yet, at least. Not before consulting Ax and the others.
And so, he found himself holding his tongue yet again. Probably the wiser course of action in the presence of these juggernauts.
Yet, somehow, he still couldn’t help feeling disappointed in himself.
Chapter Two Hundred Ninety-Three: ‘Considerations of yore...’
Click to display entire chapter at once -- (mobile link)
“...This is too generous, lord.”
“No, it isn’t. I broke your arm, officer. Truthfully, this isn’t even close to enough. If there’s something else you want from me, just say it, and I’ll try to make it happen.” Hector bobbed his head a little. “As long as it’s not too crazy.”
The uniformed police officer on the other side of the table just looked at the check in front of him. The man hadn’t said very much since arriving here at Warrenhold.
It had taken Hector quite a while to track this guy down, in part because he’d been so damn busy and kept forgetting about it. But once he’d finally remembered to tell Ms. Rogers about it, the task hadn’t taken very long at all.
This man here was Officer Fred Michaels of the Klein City Police Department. And he was the poor guy whom Hector had injured during that time period when virtually every member of law enforcement in Atreya had been hunting him down.
It had been a sloppy, frustrating mistake, and Hector had been wanting to make amends for it ever since.
Fred, however, wasn’t giving him much to go on, here. The man merely remained stone-faced throughout this whole meeting.
Hector could only imagine what might’ve been going through the guy’s head. When Ms. Rogers told him that she’d put in a request for Fred to come to Warrenhold, Hector had actually gotten a little upset with her. He’d intended to go to Klein himself, not make the officer come all the way here, but by the time he learned of the situation, it was too late. Fred was already on his way.
Monday, February 12, 2024
Page 3514
Zeff was far from understanding or convinced. “That all sounds like an excuse to me. And a weak one, at best.”
“Again, I will not argue the point. Instead, I will simply make you an offer.”
Zeff’s brow furrowed, as if to brace himself for what he might be about to hear.
“Leave Graves and Vantalay behind,” said Gohvis. “Bring all your kin and come with me. I will take all the Rainlords of Sair into my protection.”
Lakefire.
Zeff made no response.
Gohvis kept pushing. “You wish to see your daughter, yes? With this, you can. I cannot yet allow her to leave, but I can bring you to her.”
Still, Zeff said nothing. Goddammit. He turned away from the Monster to look over the evening battlefield in the distance again, taking a deep breath and then exhaling slowly.
“I understand if this is not something you can decide upon quickly, but I would urge you not to delay. The longer you remain with Graves, the more tenuous this deal becomes--for you and for me.”
That, at least, brought immediate questions to Zeff’s mind. “What do you mean? Why should Graves be a factor?”
“Because if he learns of my offer, he will seek to use it. To manipulate you against me. Or to some other end, perhaps.”
“The two of you seemed to get along strangely well.”
“Yes, in spite of myself, I do not hate him. But that is also part of his game, at times. He often presents himself as very agreeable. He thinks of the bigger picture, I suspect. Hoping to gain trust for some vital future use, perhaps. But when the time comes--and make no mistake, it will come--he will discard you like so much trash and think no less of himself for it.”
“Hmph. So you know what goes on in his mind now, do you?”
“He and I have known each other for a very long time.”
Zeff had no retort for that. He was still struggling with the offer Gohvis had just made. He needed time to think, but from the sound of it, the Monster did not want to give it to him. Or at least, the Monster wanted to put time-sensitive pressure on him.
Agh.
“...I cannot make such a decision for everyone,” said Zeff. “That is not my role.”
“But it should be, Water Dragon.”
At that, Zeff had to turn and look at him again. “That is not our way.”
“Not anymore, no.” And for a few moments, Gohvis merely met his gaze with those infernal red eyes. “But I understand. Consult your reapers and your kin. And try to keep Graves from overhearing, if you can.”
“Again, I will not argue the point. Instead, I will simply make you an offer.”
Zeff’s brow furrowed, as if to brace himself for what he might be about to hear.
“Leave Graves and Vantalay behind,” said Gohvis. “Bring all your kin and come with me. I will take all the Rainlords of Sair into my protection.”
Lakefire.
Zeff made no response.
Gohvis kept pushing. “You wish to see your daughter, yes? With this, you can. I cannot yet allow her to leave, but I can bring you to her.”
Still, Zeff said nothing. Goddammit. He turned away from the Monster to look over the evening battlefield in the distance again, taking a deep breath and then exhaling slowly.
“I understand if this is not something you can decide upon quickly, but I would urge you not to delay. The longer you remain with Graves, the more tenuous this deal becomes--for you and for me.”
That, at least, brought immediate questions to Zeff’s mind. “What do you mean? Why should Graves be a factor?”
“Because if he learns of my offer, he will seek to use it. To manipulate you against me. Or to some other end, perhaps.”
“The two of you seemed to get along strangely well.”
“Yes, in spite of myself, I do not hate him. But that is also part of his game, at times. He often presents himself as very agreeable. He thinks of the bigger picture, I suspect. Hoping to gain trust for some vital future use, perhaps. But when the time comes--and make no mistake, it will come--he will discard you like so much trash and think no less of himself for it.”
“Hmph. So you know what goes on in his mind now, do you?”
“He and I have known each other for a very long time.”
Zeff had no retort for that. He was still struggling with the offer Gohvis had just made. He needed time to think, but from the sound of it, the Monster did not want to give it to him. Or at least, the Monster wanted to put time-sensitive pressure on him.
Agh.
“...I cannot make such a decision for everyone,” said Zeff. “That is not my role.”
“But it should be, Water Dragon.”
At that, Zeff had to turn and look at him again. “That is not our way.”
“Not anymore, no.” And for a few moments, Gohvis merely met his gaze with those infernal red eyes. “But I understand. Consult your reapers and your kin. And try to keep Graves from overhearing, if you can.”
Sunday, February 11, 2024
Page 3513
“Hmph. So to make me more ‘receptive,’ you decided to kidnap my daughter in the midst of a terrible battle?” said Zeff bitterly. “A battle wherein you offered no aid to us, as well? Interesting strategy.”
“No aid? I seem to recall you having quite a bit of trouble with that little Marauder man until I removed him for you.”
“And Ivan? You had a nice and long conversation with him before disappearing. Do you know how many of my kin you could have saved that day with power like yours?”
Gohvis let that question linger, unanswered.
Zeff didn’t need a response, though. “Your words are insincere. Your intentions, muddy. You speak of Graves as if he is only out to manipulate me and my people--and perhaps that is true--but you do not strike me as any better. In fact, you are probably worse.”
“Mm. Probably? So you are not yet certain, then.”
Zeff scoffed.
“I will consider that progress,” said Gohvis.
“You are surprisingly flippant. I’d heard the Monster was never anything other than dour and humorless.”
He returned a slight nod. “It is true that, in the presence of fools and manipulators, my mood tends to worsen. But I do not think you are either of those things, Zeff Elroy.”
“If only I could say the same about you.”
Another rumble. Another laugh. “You do have some stones on you, don’t you? Not many would dare to say such things to me, anymore. It is almost refreshing.”
Never in his life would Zeff have imagined hearing the Monster of the East laughing so amicably in his presence. Or laughing at all, for that matter. He was at a loss for words now, quite frankly.
After a short time, Gohvis continued on. “I will not try to argue your points about me. In particular, if I am being perfectly honest with myself, I think there is some merit to the notion that I am too... insulated. That I am sometimes too concerned with my own goals and therefore blinded to other matters that might benefit from a modicum of my attention.”
Again, those were not things he had been expecting to hear from this man, right now. Where in the world was this conversation going, he wondered?
“It may be a product of age,” said Gohvis. “Perhaps you will notice the same thing, should you achieve similar years. Eventually, the world seems to... blend together, one might say. Many--or even all--problems that I encounter have begun to feel... recursive in nature. Chronic. To the point, perhaps, that addressing them is without purpose, because they will just keep reappearing, anyway.”
“No aid? I seem to recall you having quite a bit of trouble with that little Marauder man until I removed him for you.”
“And Ivan? You had a nice and long conversation with him before disappearing. Do you know how many of my kin you could have saved that day with power like yours?”
Gohvis let that question linger, unanswered.
Zeff didn’t need a response, though. “Your words are insincere. Your intentions, muddy. You speak of Graves as if he is only out to manipulate me and my people--and perhaps that is true--but you do not strike me as any better. In fact, you are probably worse.”
“Mm. Probably? So you are not yet certain, then.”
Zeff scoffed.
“I will consider that progress,” said Gohvis.
“You are surprisingly flippant. I’d heard the Monster was never anything other than dour and humorless.”
He returned a slight nod. “It is true that, in the presence of fools and manipulators, my mood tends to worsen. But I do not think you are either of those things, Zeff Elroy.”
“If only I could say the same about you.”
Another rumble. Another laugh. “You do have some stones on you, don’t you? Not many would dare to say such things to me, anymore. It is almost refreshing.”
Never in his life would Zeff have imagined hearing the Monster of the East laughing so amicably in his presence. Or laughing at all, for that matter. He was at a loss for words now, quite frankly.
After a short time, Gohvis continued on. “I will not try to argue your points about me. In particular, if I am being perfectly honest with myself, I think there is some merit to the notion that I am too... insulated. That I am sometimes too concerned with my own goals and therefore blinded to other matters that might benefit from a modicum of my attention.”
Again, those were not things he had been expecting to hear from this man, right now. Where in the world was this conversation going, he wondered?
“It may be a product of age,” said Gohvis. “Perhaps you will notice the same thing, should you achieve similar years. Eventually, the world seems to... blend together, one might say. Many--or even all--problems that I encounter have begun to feel... recursive in nature. Chronic. To the point, perhaps, that addressing them is without purpose, because they will just keep reappearing, anyway.”
Saturday, February 10, 2024
Page 3512
“Absurd,” said Zeff. “You claim you were essentially a son to him, and yet none else knew of your existence? If you were so close with Agam, then he would have made that clear.”
“And yet he did not. What does that tell you of his character?”
“Nothing. But it tells me that you have the character of a liar.”
“Mm. You are much like Gerard.”
Zeff stuck on that. The name of his father.
Gohvis just observed him for a few silent moments before continuing. “I appeared like this before him, as well.” A beat passed. “Well, not quite like this, I suppose. My projections were less refined. But it was similar enough. And he did not believe me, either. Nor did your grandfather, for that matter. The fiery, little Emilio. Now he was a belligerent one. I’m glad that you do not appear to have inherited his temper, at least.”
Zeff was at a loss. Could any of that be true? He remembered searching Axiolis’ memories of his father and grandfather both, but he didn’t recall any mention of his father meeting the Monster of the East.
His grandfather, though...
There had been something, hadn’t there? An encounter in Ardora that the man had only spoken of twice that Ax remembered, late into the man’s life.
Emilio Elroy said that he’d fought the Black Scourge in a tomb beneath a mountain. He said that the Black Scourge had even tried to strike a bargain with him after spouting off a bunch of nonsense.
“...My father never mentioned meeting you,” said Zeff.
“No? Ah. That is believable, now that I think of it. I believe our meeting was not long before his passing.” Gohvis’ tone shifted into one noticeably more somber. “Before everyone’s passing, I should say.”
Zeff made no response.
“Gerard and Emilio both had strong biases against me, thanks to the Vanguard,” said Gohvis. “Now... I suppose I am hoping that, with all you have been through, you will not be seduced by that same allure.”
“...If any of that is even remotely true, then why are you only appearing before me now? Why wait so many years? Why not show yourself to me when I was merely a child and far more impressionable?”
A low rumble arrived from the dragon man’s chest. A laugh? “Impressionable, you say? I observed you a bit during that time. You were not impressionable at all, in my estimation. You were more like... a little ball of righteous indignation. I do not think you would have been very receptive to me in the least.”
“And yet he did not. What does that tell you of his character?”
“Nothing. But it tells me that you have the character of a liar.”
“Mm. You are much like Gerard.”
Zeff stuck on that. The name of his father.
Gohvis just observed him for a few silent moments before continuing. “I appeared like this before him, as well.” A beat passed. “Well, not quite like this, I suppose. My projections were less refined. But it was similar enough. And he did not believe me, either. Nor did your grandfather, for that matter. The fiery, little Emilio. Now he was a belligerent one. I’m glad that you do not appear to have inherited his temper, at least.”
Zeff was at a loss. Could any of that be true? He remembered searching Axiolis’ memories of his father and grandfather both, but he didn’t recall any mention of his father meeting the Monster of the East.
His grandfather, though...
There had been something, hadn’t there? An encounter in Ardora that the man had only spoken of twice that Ax remembered, late into the man’s life.
Emilio Elroy said that he’d fought the Black Scourge in a tomb beneath a mountain. He said that the Black Scourge had even tried to strike a bargain with him after spouting off a bunch of nonsense.
“...My father never mentioned meeting you,” said Zeff.
“No? Ah. That is believable, now that I think of it. I believe our meeting was not long before his passing.” Gohvis’ tone shifted into one noticeably more somber. “Before everyone’s passing, I should say.”
Zeff made no response.
“Gerard and Emilio both had strong biases against me, thanks to the Vanguard,” said Gohvis. “Now... I suppose I am hoping that, with all you have been through, you will not be seduced by that same allure.”
“...If any of that is even remotely true, then why are you only appearing before me now? Why wait so many years? Why not show yourself to me when I was merely a child and far more impressionable?”
A low rumble arrived from the dragon man’s chest. A laugh? “Impressionable, you say? I observed you a bit during that time. You were not impressionable at all, in my estimation. You were more like... a little ball of righteous indignation. I do not think you would have been very receptive to me in the least.”
Friday, February 9, 2024
Page 3511
“Graves has a long history of backstabbing and betrayal,” said Gohvis. “Shall I list specific historical instances of it? We will be here for quite some time, and you will have no way of verifying my information, as he always goes to great lengths in order to cover his tracks. Even your reapers have probably only heard whispers about him, at most.”
“How narratively convenient for you,” said Zeff.
“Think so, do you? Tell me. What do you think would have happened if you had been rendered unconscious by Graves like the rest of your kin? Hmm? Think he would have come clean about everything, explained the whole situation to you?” Gohvis waited for him to say something, but Zeff merely remained quiet, so he continued on. “No, he would have swept it all under the rug. At best, he would have kept you completely in the dark about his presence. At worst, he would have not only recaptured all the prisoners you just freed but also captured the rest of you, as well.”
“Hypothetical situations are not going to convince me of anything,” said Zeff. “Why do you even care what happens here?”
“Why shouldn’t I? You are a noble people. I should not like to see your time cut short by yet another betrayal.”
“Ridiculous. You care nothing for us.”
“But I do. I’ve my own history with your kin, though I doubt you’ve heard much of it. If any.”
“Your doubt would be correct, then. I’ve heard nothing about any relation you have to us.” Well, that wasn’t entirely true, he knew. Parson Miles had mentioned something, but Zeff refused to trust those words.
Gohvis fell quiet for a time. “I have ties not just to your kin as a whole, but to House Elroy, in particular. To Agam Elroy, specifically.”
Zeff’s eyes widened.
Agam.
There that feeling was again. The feeling that there was something he was missing. Something right in front of his face, perhaps, that he simply couldn’t see.
“How did you know Agam?”
“He... raised me, you might say.”
What in the world? “Agam Elroy raised you? How could that possibly be true?”
“To be clear,” said Gohvis. “I am not a Rainlord. But when I was born, I was alone. I had nothing and no one. No parents. No kin of my own at all. And Agam, being the odd yet noble-hearted man that he was, decided to care for me.”
“How narratively convenient for you,” said Zeff.
“Think so, do you? Tell me. What do you think would have happened if you had been rendered unconscious by Graves like the rest of your kin? Hmm? Think he would have come clean about everything, explained the whole situation to you?” Gohvis waited for him to say something, but Zeff merely remained quiet, so he continued on. “No, he would have swept it all under the rug. At best, he would have kept you completely in the dark about his presence. At worst, he would have not only recaptured all the prisoners you just freed but also captured the rest of you, as well.”
“Hypothetical situations are not going to convince me of anything,” said Zeff. “Why do you even care what happens here?”
“Why shouldn’t I? You are a noble people. I should not like to see your time cut short by yet another betrayal.”
“Ridiculous. You care nothing for us.”
“But I do. I’ve my own history with your kin, though I doubt you’ve heard much of it. If any.”
“Your doubt would be correct, then. I’ve heard nothing about any relation you have to us.” Well, that wasn’t entirely true, he knew. Parson Miles had mentioned something, but Zeff refused to trust those words.
Gohvis fell quiet for a time. “I have ties not just to your kin as a whole, but to House Elroy, in particular. To Agam Elroy, specifically.”
Zeff’s eyes widened.
Agam.
There that feeling was again. The feeling that there was something he was missing. Something right in front of his face, perhaps, that he simply couldn’t see.
“How did you know Agam?”
“He... raised me, you might say.”
What in the world? “Agam Elroy raised you? How could that possibly be true?”
“To be clear,” said Gohvis. “I am not a Rainlord. But when I was born, I was alone. I had nothing and no one. No parents. No kin of my own at all. And Agam, being the odd yet noble-hearted man that he was, decided to care for me.”
Thursday, February 8, 2024
Page 3510
“So you can just appear in front of whoever you want, wherever you want, is that it?” said Zeff.
The Monster made no response.
Unsurprising, Zeff supposed. Gohvis had no reason to explain how his powers worked. In fact, he had every reason not to. At his level, maintaining such secrets was no doubt quite important, whenever possible. And considering how little the world seemed to know of this man despite his age, Zeff had to think that Gohvis took his secret-keeping efforts quite seriously.
Meaning he should probably watch his words here.
Yes. Logically, he knew that.
But his logic was not entirely in control, right now.
“Graves told me something of your abilities,” he went on. “You are not truly here with me, are you?”
Still no answer.
Zeff did have a point that he was getting to, though. “Whatever trick that is... might you teach it to my daughter? So that she and I can speak directly like this?”
“A bold ask,” said Gohvis.
“That is what you are doing, isn’t it? Teaching her? Or am I mistaken?”
Gohvis paused briefly. “Where did you come by this impression? I do not recall telling you my intentions for her.”
It was Zeff’s turn not to say anything. He wasn’t about to tell the man that Hector had some kind of psychic link with Emiliana via the Shards of the Dry God.
“You are surprisingly calm, as well,” said Gohvis. “I thought you would give me a harder time here.”
“I probably should. And I probably will, if you don’t give me some assurances, at the very least.”
“Assurances, is it? That is doable. But I did not come here to speak with you of Emiliana, so perhaps we can find an accord between the two of us.”
Zeff cocked an eyebrow. “An accord? Regarding what?”
“Graves.”
Zeff’s jaw tightened. “What about Graves?”
“You can’t trust him, you know. He is using you and all your kin like pieces on a game board.”
“Yes, I remember you saying that before. But you are not exactly a paragon of trustworthiness yourself, Monster of the East.”
“Mm. Even so, I advise you not to get too deeply involved with him.”
Zeff hadn’t been planning on it, but the mere fact that Gohvis was apparently going so far out of his way just to tell him this... was making Zeff quite curious. “Why not?”
The Monster made no response.
Unsurprising, Zeff supposed. Gohvis had no reason to explain how his powers worked. In fact, he had every reason not to. At his level, maintaining such secrets was no doubt quite important, whenever possible. And considering how little the world seemed to know of this man despite his age, Zeff had to think that Gohvis took his secret-keeping efforts quite seriously.
Meaning he should probably watch his words here.
Yes. Logically, he knew that.
But his logic was not entirely in control, right now.
“Graves told me something of your abilities,” he went on. “You are not truly here with me, are you?”
Still no answer.
Zeff did have a point that he was getting to, though. “Whatever trick that is... might you teach it to my daughter? So that she and I can speak directly like this?”
“A bold ask,” said Gohvis.
“That is what you are doing, isn’t it? Teaching her? Or am I mistaken?”
Gohvis paused briefly. “Where did you come by this impression? I do not recall telling you my intentions for her.”
It was Zeff’s turn not to say anything. He wasn’t about to tell the man that Hector had some kind of psychic link with Emiliana via the Shards of the Dry God.
“You are surprisingly calm, as well,” said Gohvis. “I thought you would give me a harder time here.”
“I probably should. And I probably will, if you don’t give me some assurances, at the very least.”
“Assurances, is it? That is doable. But I did not come here to speak with you of Emiliana, so perhaps we can find an accord between the two of us.”
Zeff cocked an eyebrow. “An accord? Regarding what?”
“Graves.”
Zeff’s jaw tightened. “What about Graves?”
“You can’t trust him, you know. He is using you and all your kin like pieces on a game board.”
“Yes, I remember you saying that before. But you are not exactly a paragon of trustworthiness yourself, Monster of the East.”
“Mm. Even so, I advise you not to get too deeply involved with him.”
Zeff hadn’t been planning on it, but the mere fact that Gohvis was apparently going so far out of his way just to tell him this... was making Zeff quite curious. “Why not?”
Wednesday, February 7, 2024
Page 3509
That status quo lasted for nearly two thousand years, all the way up until the empire began slowly eroding that autonomy away from the Rainlords, as it had been doing with many other groups during that time period. And when the Mohssian emperor sent his new “Rain King” to rule over them, the bastard didn’t last long before the Redwater Twins declared full independence by killing him in his own throne room.
Zeff, therefore, was supremely uncomfortable with comparisons being made--even tenuous ones--between Hector Goffe and Rhein Ricardo.
But... goddammmit, he did have to admit that the legendary tales did have some... resemblance to what he knew Hector had been through.
What Zeff had himself been through, alongside the boy.
Ugh.
What a terrifying thought.
He rubbed his forehead and took a deep breath.
What was to become of his kin, now? Where were they going?
He’d heard plenty of loose talk, but the heads of all the Houses had yet to properly sit down and discuss it at length. Nor would they, Zeff figured, until they all returned to Warrenhold and fully reunited with everyone. Only then would each House have all of its most influential members present for such conversations.
But the temptation was certainly here, already. To Zeff’s mind, there was really only one route forward. The recapture of their ancestral homeland.
That probably would not require much discussion, other than deciding how soon they should attempt it.
But afterwards? What then?
Zeff couldn’t ignore this disturbing feeling in his stomach that things had already changed for his people in ways that could not be undone. That even after retaking Sair, the Rainlords would never again be the same.
Agh.
He was letting his mind wander too much. Letting the pre-battle anticipation get to him. An all too familiar feeling. He needed to--
“Water Dragon,” came a dark voice.
One he recognized.
He turned to his left and saw a monolithic figure there next to him, barely recognizable as human in the encroaching darkness of the evening.
He should have been surprised. Shocked, even. And yet somehow, Zeff Elroy was not. For a few moments, he merely maintained a flat expression on his face as he sized up the mountainous man, feeling abruptly as though this was a meeting that he had been expecting all along.
“...Scourge,” said Zeff. “I see you are indeed not dead, just as Graves said.”
“Mm.”
Zeff, therefore, was supremely uncomfortable with comparisons being made--even tenuous ones--between Hector Goffe and Rhein Ricardo.
But... goddammmit, he did have to admit that the legendary tales did have some... resemblance to what he knew Hector had been through.
What Zeff had himself been through, alongside the boy.
Ugh.
What a terrifying thought.
He rubbed his forehead and took a deep breath.
What was to become of his kin, now? Where were they going?
He’d heard plenty of loose talk, but the heads of all the Houses had yet to properly sit down and discuss it at length. Nor would they, Zeff figured, until they all returned to Warrenhold and fully reunited with everyone. Only then would each House have all of its most influential members present for such conversations.
But the temptation was certainly here, already. To Zeff’s mind, there was really only one route forward. The recapture of their ancestral homeland.
That probably would not require much discussion, other than deciding how soon they should attempt it.
But afterwards? What then?
Zeff couldn’t ignore this disturbing feeling in his stomach that things had already changed for his people in ways that could not be undone. That even after retaking Sair, the Rainlords would never again be the same.
Agh.
He was letting his mind wander too much. Letting the pre-battle anticipation get to him. An all too familiar feeling. He needed to--
“Water Dragon,” came a dark voice.
One he recognized.
He turned to his left and saw a monolithic figure there next to him, barely recognizable as human in the encroaching darkness of the evening.
He should have been surprised. Shocked, even. And yet somehow, Zeff Elroy was not. For a few moments, he merely maintained a flat expression on his face as he sized up the mountainous man, feeling abruptly as though this was a meeting that he had been expecting all along.
“...Scourge,” said Zeff. “I see you are indeed not dead, just as Graves said.”
“Mm.”
Sunday, February 4, 2024
Saturday, February 3, 2024
Page 3508
“Well, then,” said Octavia with a distant look in her eyes. “That certainly... puts things into perspective, at least. I’m looking forward to meeting this young man and his reaper again.”
The conversation didn’t last much longer after that. With night coming on, Octavia went to go rest. Wen did not go with her, but he did venture off to go talk to someone else. Even Axiolis ended up leaving Zeff alone with thoughts again.
Long after they were gone, Zeff’s mind still lingered on that last subject. He didn’t know how to feel about it. While he didn’t think that Ax was one to make such comparisons thoughtlessly, it still felt... like a strange decision on the reaper’s part.
He was tempted to call Ax back over and try to hash things out, but he had no idea what he would say. This unease in the pit of his stomach had no words to accompany it.
Was he afraid of something here? Did he think that Axiolis had some sort of... intentions at play, now? Hyping Hector up like that in front of Octavia? As if the boy even needed it, at this point.
Bah. But still. Rhein Ricardo was... an entirely different level of importance.
Some tales regarded him as an incarnation of Lhutwë himself. Others said, instead, that he had encountered Lhutwë and received the God of All Water’s everlasting protection--for him and all his future kin.
They said that Rhein Ricardo was the very reason why the divine materialization ability of water even existed in the first place. And why it continued to propagate into the future through the bloodlines of the Rainlords.
And of course, there were the tales of how Rhein distinguished himself among the ancient Arman people during their countless clashes with the Lyzakks, eventually establishing an entirely new warrior class known as Rainlords, who went on, long after his death, to seize power over the local government when the old regimes proved too incompetent and corrupt.
The Mohssian Empire had not been terribly pleased about that, but it was still quite young at the time, and the heroic legacy of Rhein, still fresh in everyone’s mind. So the Rainlords were able to negotiate a privileged status for themselves within the empire as a vassal group with unparalleled autonomy, so long as they recognized the emperor as their rightful ruler and fought in his name when he called for their banners.
The conversation didn’t last much longer after that. With night coming on, Octavia went to go rest. Wen did not go with her, but he did venture off to go talk to someone else. Even Axiolis ended up leaving Zeff alone with thoughts again.
Long after they were gone, Zeff’s mind still lingered on that last subject. He didn’t know how to feel about it. While he didn’t think that Ax was one to make such comparisons thoughtlessly, it still felt... like a strange decision on the reaper’s part.
He was tempted to call Ax back over and try to hash things out, but he had no idea what he would say. This unease in the pit of his stomach had no words to accompany it.
Was he afraid of something here? Did he think that Axiolis had some sort of... intentions at play, now? Hyping Hector up like that in front of Octavia? As if the boy even needed it, at this point.
Bah. But still. Rhein Ricardo was... an entirely different level of importance.
Some tales regarded him as an incarnation of Lhutwë himself. Others said, instead, that he had encountered Lhutwë and received the God of All Water’s everlasting protection--for him and all his future kin.
They said that Rhein Ricardo was the very reason why the divine materialization ability of water even existed in the first place. And why it continued to propagate into the future through the bloodlines of the Rainlords.
And of course, there were the tales of how Rhein distinguished himself among the ancient Arman people during their countless clashes with the Lyzakks, eventually establishing an entirely new warrior class known as Rainlords, who went on, long after his death, to seize power over the local government when the old regimes proved too incompetent and corrupt.
The Mohssian Empire had not been terribly pleased about that, but it was still quite young at the time, and the heroic legacy of Rhein, still fresh in everyone’s mind. So the Rainlords were able to negotiate a privileged status for themselves within the empire as a vassal group with unparalleled autonomy, so long as they recognized the emperor as their rightful ruler and fought in his name when he called for their banners.
Friday, February 2, 2024
Page 3507
A year ago, Axiolis would’ve been right about Zeff not being very receptive to that idea. But now?
Now he was much more tempted to agree with the reaper’s perspective.
He decided to keep that thought to himself, though. It hardly mattered, either way.
The conversation continued on, with Octavia soon bringing over her own reaper, Wen, in order to get his opinion on things, as well.
Not much was learned, however. Wen was non-committal, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with Axiolis; and he didn’t offer any information about asteros that hadn’t already been discussed.
Until, that was, Zeff asked a particular question.
“Ax said that he knew of other asteros whose growth was at least comparable to Hector and Garovel’s. So tell me something. Were any of those people Rainlords?”
Ax and Wen were both quiet for a time, and they exchanged looks.
‘...There have been a few,’ said Wen. ‘But the one that comes immediately to mind... Axiolis? I have a feeling you are thinking the same?’
‘The first Water Dragon,’ said Ax. ‘Rhein Ricardo.’
Zeff took pause. That was a name he was intimately familiar with, of course. Among the long history of his kin, Rhein was arguably the single most important figure. The Redwater Twins were more famous internationally, especially in the modern day, but among the Rainlords themselves, it was hard to say if that was the case.
Certainly, though, no one else was more revered. Various reapers, such as Wen here, had known the Twins personally and therefore also had some... less than flattering things to say about them. The Twins, while beloved as heroes in their own right, were nonetheless still regarded as very flawed human men.
But Rhein Ricardo...
The stories about him were truly legendary.
Some said that was only because the tales were so old. There were just too few reapers left who had existed during Rhein’s time, they said. It was easier, therefore, for the man to maintain an almost deified status as the father of all true Rainlords of Sair.
They said that.
But Wen and Ax here had both been around during his time, Zeff knew.
Which was why Zeff couldn’t stop himself from feeling a certain type of urgency all of a sudden. “Careful,” he said, intensity in his tone. “That’s a heavy thing you’re implying, right now.”
‘We’re not implying anything,’ said Ax. ‘You asked a question, and we’re answering it. That’s all.’
Zeff stared at Ax intently.
The reaper, for his part, merely stared right back.
Now he was much more tempted to agree with the reaper’s perspective.
He decided to keep that thought to himself, though. It hardly mattered, either way.
The conversation continued on, with Octavia soon bringing over her own reaper, Wen, in order to get his opinion on things, as well.
Not much was learned, however. Wen was non-committal, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with Axiolis; and he didn’t offer any information about asteros that hadn’t already been discussed.
Until, that was, Zeff asked a particular question.
“Ax said that he knew of other asteros whose growth was at least comparable to Hector and Garovel’s. So tell me something. Were any of those people Rainlords?”
Ax and Wen were both quiet for a time, and they exchanged looks.
‘...There have been a few,’ said Wen. ‘But the one that comes immediately to mind... Axiolis? I have a feeling you are thinking the same?’
‘The first Water Dragon,’ said Ax. ‘Rhein Ricardo.’
Zeff took pause. That was a name he was intimately familiar with, of course. Among the long history of his kin, Rhein was arguably the single most important figure. The Redwater Twins were more famous internationally, especially in the modern day, but among the Rainlords themselves, it was hard to say if that was the case.
Certainly, though, no one else was more revered. Various reapers, such as Wen here, had known the Twins personally and therefore also had some... less than flattering things to say about them. The Twins, while beloved as heroes in their own right, were nonetheless still regarded as very flawed human men.
But Rhein Ricardo...
The stories about him were truly legendary.
Some said that was only because the tales were so old. There were just too few reapers left who had existed during Rhein’s time, they said. It was easier, therefore, for the man to maintain an almost deified status as the father of all true Rainlords of Sair.
They said that.
But Wen and Ax here had both been around during his time, Zeff knew.
Which was why Zeff couldn’t stop himself from feeling a certain type of urgency all of a sudden. “Careful,” he said, intensity in his tone. “That’s a heavy thing you’re implying, right now.”
‘We’re not implying anything,’ said Ax. ‘You asked a question, and we’re answering it. That’s all.’
Zeff stared at Ax intently.
The reaper, for his part, merely stared right back.
Thursday, February 1, 2024
Page 3506
Zeff had to admit, Ax was making a lot of sense. Enough, perhaps, that he was even starting to view Hector and Garovel in a new light. And perhaps the Rainlords as a whole, as well. Just a bit.
Hmm.
‘Have you not felt it yourself, Zeff? In their presence? A kind of... gravitational pull, of sorts? I know I have.’
Zeff made no response. He had some idea of what the reaper was talking about, but he wasn’t sure.
Octavia spoke up in his stead. “What do you mean by that? Gravitational pull?”
‘I’m not entirely certain, myself. Despite everything I’ve said, and despite my trepidation about asteros in general, I am also of the belief that there is yet more to them.’
“To Hector and Garovel or to all asteros?”
‘All of them. I gave you my opinion of what seems the most rational explanation for their existence. But I harbor other views, as well. Views which I’m sure you will be much less receptive to, being the godless heathens that you are.’
“Okay, Ax,” said Octavia, taking a defensive and doubtful tone. “I had almost forgotten about this side of you. But I suppose if you’re willing to share your crackpot religious views on the matter, then I am willing to listen.”
‘How kind of you.’
Zeff knew that the two of them were mostly exaggerating. Ax didn’t really think they were heathens, nor did Octavia think that Ax was a crackpot. This was just their way of poking fun at one another and lightening the mood.
...Probably.
“Are you about to tell us that you think Lhutwë is somehow responsible for the existence of asteros?” asked Zeff.
‘No, I don’t think so,’ said Ax. ‘But many who have studied asteros over the eons have come to think that, perhaps, their suffering is... in some way the will of the gods. Various gods. In various Ardoran cultures, for instance, they have their own term for asteros. They call them “kridanaki,” which means “playthings of the gods.”’
“And that’s what you believe, too?” said Octavia.
‘...A bit, yes. I’ll admit that I am uncertain, at least. But I simply find it too difficult to believe that all of the misfortune that I have seen so many asteros endure over the ages can be chalked up entirely to... their own doing. The idea that some invisible force may be involved seems... possible to me. Likely, even.’
Hmm.
‘Have you not felt it yourself, Zeff? In their presence? A kind of... gravitational pull, of sorts? I know I have.’
Zeff made no response. He had some idea of what the reaper was talking about, but he wasn’t sure.
Octavia spoke up in his stead. “What do you mean by that? Gravitational pull?”
‘I’m not entirely certain, myself. Despite everything I’ve said, and despite my trepidation about asteros in general, I am also of the belief that there is yet more to them.’
“To Hector and Garovel or to all asteros?”
‘All of them. I gave you my opinion of what seems the most rational explanation for their existence. But I harbor other views, as well. Views which I’m sure you will be much less receptive to, being the godless heathens that you are.’
“Okay, Ax,” said Octavia, taking a defensive and doubtful tone. “I had almost forgotten about this side of you. But I suppose if you’re willing to share your crackpot religious views on the matter, then I am willing to listen.”
‘How kind of you.’
Zeff knew that the two of them were mostly exaggerating. Ax didn’t really think they were heathens, nor did Octavia think that Ax was a crackpot. This was just their way of poking fun at one another and lightening the mood.
...Probably.
“Are you about to tell us that you think Lhutwë is somehow responsible for the existence of asteros?” asked Zeff.
‘No, I don’t think so,’ said Ax. ‘But many who have studied asteros over the eons have come to think that, perhaps, their suffering is... in some way the will of the gods. Various gods. In various Ardoran cultures, for instance, they have their own term for asteros. They call them “kridanaki,” which means “playthings of the gods.”’
“And that’s what you believe, too?” said Octavia.
‘...A bit, yes. I’ll admit that I am uncertain, at least. But I simply find it too difficult to believe that all of the misfortune that I have seen so many asteros endure over the ages can be chalked up entirely to... their own doing. The idea that some invisible force may be involved seems... possible to me. Likely, even.’