Taking a day

Just the one. Page'll be up on th 17th. Thanks for reading, everybody.

Page 3743

A meal, was it? That was a surprising offer. In all her visits to this place until now, she’d never been given food. In fact, with so many reapers and Methusel around, she’d been under the impression that food was not even a subject that crossed their minds.

Which had made her pity the handful of servants who had to live here.

Granted, none of her previous visits had been for that long. She’d only been allowed to stay for a few hours at a time, if even that.

A look of amusement seemed to cross Gardorox’s fishy face. ‘You look surprised. You thought us incapable of providing sustenance, didn’t you?’

She supposed she could admit that. “Er, yes...”

‘Heh. Then you are in for a treat. As is your reaper.’

Gema was confused. “What do you mean?”

‘I shall let that be a surprise.’ Gardorox’s tail fin waved broadly to the side. ‘Please escort young Gema to her quarters. Dinner will be prepared shortly.’

And just like that, the reapers all began to disperse, not even bothering to inform each other that they were leaving. They simply flew off at a leisurely pace, going up into the ceiling or through the walls or even into the polished floor. Only a couple of them remained behind to strike up a conversation with each other.

Another Methusel appeared on her right--one she hadn’t even noticed a moment ago--and motioned for her to follow.

She did so.

As they walked, she decided to try consulting Ozolos one more time, despite knowing that it was most likely pointless. ‘Do you have any idea what they were talking about back there?’ she asked.

‘Yes,’ said the reaper privately.

Which was more of an answer than she’d expected, at least. But she still kept pressing. ‘And? Spill the beans, Ozzie. C’mon.’

‘They are trying to seduce me.’

She couldn’t help blinking. ‘Uh... say what?’

‘This is how it starts. Appeals to fleshly indulgences. Reminders of mortal pleasures. Things thought long lost to us. ‘Tis a potent strategy.’

‘Okay, yeah, I get that much. I think. But... “Seduce,” though? Is that really the right word for it? I mean...’

‘It is. Once seduced, control soon follows. Manipulation. Even slavery. Of the mind. And soul, too, no doubt.’

‘Whoa. Um. Alright. Don’t like the sound of that.’

‘Good. Remember your training. Hold truth. And see this place for what it really is.’

Page 3742

Gema hesitated at that. “Ah--fully integrated? Um. How long do you suppose that might be?”

‘As long as is required.’

Oh no. These were reapers. And some of the oldest ones on the entire planet, most likely. And she herself was technically immortal, too. So she was suddenly getting the distinct impression that this guy could be talking about decades here--or even centuries, for that matter.

She couldn’t just let that go by without addressing it. “I cannot stay indefinitely,” she said, stiffening her posture. “My work for Dr. Frederick comes first.”

‘You will stay as long as you are needed,’ said another of the female council members. This one’s name was Harilixa, as Gema recalled. ‘The Ohja owes us much. Any demand we make of him will be satisfied.’

Gema’s brow twitched at that, and she struggled to maintain the smile on her face. “Dr. Frederick is also very busy with the war. Many innocent people are relying on him for protection, right now. As members of the Vanguard, our first duty is to them.”

‘All the more reason why he should not refuse us,’ said Harilixa. ‘Without our continued support, the Ohja’s triumphs will dry up like a summer rain.’

Her jaw clenched as she held back the retort on the tip of her tongue. She wanted to tell them that ‘their support’ amounted to little more than a promise. They had not sent any actual troops or aid to the Surgeon Saint’s side. Only a guarantee that he could use this place as a bargaining chip when negotiating with enemy reapers.

Gema had to be careful here, though. Her emotional shield was only so strong. If a new emotion was allowed to take over--such as irritation, for instance--then her thoughts would no longer be protected from all the observing Methusel.

And perhaps that was exactly why Harilixa was saying such inflammatory things. To get a rise out of her.

‘Be mindful how you speak to us, girl. We may adore the Ohja, but you are not he. You are merely one of his pawns.’

Or perhaps she was just a bitch.

“I understand, Councilor,” said Gema, having solidified her smile again. “I can only apologize for any offense given.”

Harilixa said nothing more, and silence filled the chamber for a time.

Gardorox led them out of it. ‘In any case, there is much yet to discuss. Are you hungry from your journey? We will prepare a meal for you.’

Next page at noon PST

Thanks for reading, as always.

Page 3741

Ozolos told her not to worry about it so much, but it was difficult. She had the feeling that the reason she was being refused a teacher was because they preferred being able to talk in front of her without her understanding.

So that they could say all sorts of mean and horrible things, probably.

But the joke was on them, because she was learning. Slowly, but she was learning. Paraya was their term for outsiders. And in her estimation, it harbored a slightly negative connotation.

“Councilors,” said Gema with as much respect in her voice as she could muster. She came to a stop in front of them all and gave a bow. She counted seven of them on this occasion, though she knew there were many more.

The one who’d spoken was named Gardorox, and he continued doing so. ‘What trinkets of the heavenly ones have you brought us this time?’

“No trinkets this time, I’m afraid,” said Gema with a sympathetic smile. “Instead, I bring news.”

The look of disappointment on each of their piscine faces was somehow quite apparent.

She’d been a little worried about that, but there was nothing she could do about it now. “As agreed, Doctor Frederick will soon be sending the first group of reapers here. I have come in order to ensure that you are not surprised by their arrival. And that the transition goes as smoothly as possible.”

‘So you intend to stay a while, then?’ said another reaper, this one feminine. Her name was Atriza, as Gema recalled.

“If the Council is gracious enough to allow it, then yes,” said Gema.

The Councilors all exchanged looks with one another, and many more words were exchanged in that mysterious language of theirs. Unfortunately, she still couldn’t understand very much of it, but she did pick up a few stray words here and there.

Families? Innocence? Young ones? Fighting? No, war.

Bah. Not enough to go off of.

Once they were finished discussing, Gardorox spoke for the group again. ‘The first group will consist of only three, yes?’

“Yes,” said Gema.

‘And they have been chosen personally by the Ohja, yes?’

The Ohja was their term for Cpt. General Fen Frederick. It seemed to be one of particular reverence, though she still wasn’t sure as to its exact meaning yet. “Correct,” she said.

‘Then you may stay,’ said Gardorox. ‘In fact, you must. Until these new arrivals are fully integrated, we shall make use of you.’

Page 3740

The guide continued onward through the throng of reapers in the plaza. Gema could see a few of them eyeing her, though whether it was out of curiosity or suspicion was anyone’s guess. The Old Wardens were a peculiar bunch, to say the least. Personally, Gema had found that many of them were intensely interested in hearing all about the outside world, while many others were decidedly not so.

There seemed to be a divide, of sorts, within the culture here.

Which, she supposed, actually made it no different from most other places in the world.

The journey kept going for even longer than she expected. Each time she’d visited, the meeting place had been different, and indeed, this occasion was apparently going to continue that trend. They ventured all the way through another street full of peculiar buildings and into a more wooded area, where the trail was barely visible.

Soon, the trees grew so thick that she had to push closer to the guide in order make sure not to lose track of him.

Eventually, the guide came to a halt, though not for any obvious reason that Gema could see.

Rather than voicing her confusion, however, she merely waited.

The guide raised his gangly arms over his head, and then the world ahead of them shuddered visibly. The dark forest wavered for a moment like a tapestry caught in a sudden breeze, and then a bright slit appeared down the center of it before transforming into an entire doorway.

An illuminated corridor lay inside, though it thankfully did not appear nearly as long as the last one. She followed the guide through, and soon enough, they arrived in a much larger chamber, one that looked rather like the main hall of a castle.

An invisible castle, she supposed.

Huh.

More reapers were here, of course, but these ones appeared to have been awaiting their arrival. Gema spotted a few more Methusel, as well, which only made her wonder how many others might secretly be observing.

‘Paraya,’ said the centermost reaper as they approached.

That was a word she’d become intimately familiar with over the years. She’d been trying to learn all she could about their language here, but as in all things, they didn’t make it easy. Each time she’d asked for someone to teach her directly, she’d been refused. Even when she asked what a particular term meant, she’d usually been ignored or simply met with silence.

Page 3739

To her eyes, reapers were pitch-black swordfish with a silvery glow and beady eyes alight with tiny white flames. Ozolos, however, did not entirely conform to that look. Rather than black, he was more of a dark gray, and his eyes shone a little more brightly than others.

Why that might’ve been, she still had no earthly idea, nor had anyone else she’d asked about it. The most reasonable explanation she’d gotten was that the slightly altered appearance was a byproduct of reapers with particularly strange personalities. A natural phenomenon observed throughout history.

She felt like there had to be more to it than just that, but at the same time, it did seem appropriate for her reaper in particular.

The reapers here, however, were also special. Maybe not in appearance like Ozolos, but by reputation, because this place was the Wandering Island of Faridel, home of the reaper enclave known as the Old Wardens. And she knew there was yet far more to be seen here, squirreled away in tunnels or behind illusory walls in giant boulders--and probably plenty of other hiding places that she still hadn’t learned about.

She’d been trying her damnedest to learn more about the history of the Wandering Island whenever she could, but information about it was preciously rare, and trying to get the Wardens to talk about it was like trying to get water from a stone.

The most she’d been able to learn had come from the Prime Archivers in Luugh. She’d been fortunate enough to be given a mission near there a couple years ago and had decided not to waste the opportunity.

There were many mythic tales of this place, such as the one of its origin. Supposedly, the Island was carved out of the small Luughian continent by a great sea turtle, who took the land upon its back in order to rescue the native population from a monstrous horde of invaders that was soon to arrive.

Of course, these days, it was easy enough to see from the air that there was no giant turtle beneath the island. And while its wandering nature was still somewhat mysterious, there were plenty of scientific explanations for it, such as buoyant algae along the underside of the island and large pockets of gas being trapped underground.

Took a bit of the mystique away, perhaps, but on the whole, she preferred science to legend.

Next page at noon

Apologies for all the delays, lately. And thanks for your patience.

By the way, a question for you: do you think I should go back and delete all these delay announcement pages? For ease of binge reading and whatnot? Or do you think it doesn't matter? I'm ont sure if it's worth the hassle.

Page 3738

‘They are one of the most well-hidden branches of humanity to ever walk the planet,’ Valess had told her. ‘Not only are they capable of manipulating minds and wiping memories like Sparrows, but they also possess an impeccable capacity for camouflage. My advice to you, therefore, is to treat them with exceptional compassion and politeness, because no matter how well you develop your psychic defenses, you may never truly know how many of them are in a room with you at a given moment. You should always assume that you are greatly outnumbered and being judged by attentive observers.’

Needless to say, that hadn’t been the most comforting thing to hear, but she’d tried to take it to heart during each of her visits to this place.

They finally reached the end of the long corridor, and a grand view of the main town opened up before her.

The central plaza drew the eye first, being so open and full of foot traffic. The buildings all around it were not uniform at all, varying in not only size and shape but also color, texture, and decoration. Where one was covered in vines and greenery, another looked as though it had been chiseled out of rock by a sculptor obsessed with geometry. Still another building had a decidedly Jesbolese aesthetic with its swooping roof and curving angles, while the one next to it looked more Intarian with how harsh and pointy it was.

There was even a building that just looked like a big pile of sticks thrown on top of each other. Crazier still, Gema thought she might actually know who lived in that one, despite never having gone inside.

Trees were also a common sight here, but perhaps not as much as one might’ve expected from the Methusel. She’d wondered why that was, and Valess had told her that it was because the Methusel did not care for shelter very much. They preferred to sleep outside, apparently.

Having never witnessed any of them sleeping, she supposed she would just have to take Valess’ word on that.

But that of course meant that all the buildings here were not for the Methusel. They were for the island’s primary inhabitants. The ones whom the Methusel had been protecting since time immemorial.

And Gema could see them out and about, all over the plaza.

Reapers. As numerous as she’d ever seen. And with nary a servant in sight.

Page 3737

‘I have a question for you,’ said Ozolos publicly.

“Yes?” said their guide.

‘Do your people take offense to being compared with the Dulvani?’

The guide fell quiet for a moment. “...Compared to? No, I should think no offense would be taken there. But if you presume overmuch about us because of them, then yes, you may create some awkward conversations. Why do you ask this of me, by the way?”

‘Curiosity.’

“No other reason?”

‘History, as well.’

“What do you mean by that?”

Unfortunately, however, this proved to be yet another of those instances wherein Ozolos decided not to respond, leaving only an uncomfortable silence behind.

Enough so, in fact, that the guide’s head turned one hundred and eighty degrees around in order to look at the two of them, his wooden neck making a crackling noise all the while. He didn’t stop walking forward, either.

Not knowing what else to do, Gema just gave a flat smile and then returned to examining the walls and windows.

Play dumb. Just play dumb. Dumb and innocent. Her tried and tested tools.

It seemed to work well enough. The guide gave up and turned back around, making it a full three hundred and sixty degrees.

She’d gotten used to that a while ago. This was not her first encounter with the Methusel.

They were a fascinating people but not exactly the easiest to read. Or learn about at all, for that matter. She’d never even heard of them three years ago, and in the time since then, she hadn’t been able to discover much about them or their history.

They all seemed to be quite stoic and soft-spoken. They were still human-shaped overall, but their bodies were noticeably more malleable. She wasn’t yet sure if they had any flesh beneath the ‘bark’ that covered them entirely or if they were actually wooden all the way through; but she did know that said bark could grow and change at will. And quite quickly, too.

At the moment, their guide’s bark was a smooth, pale white with an occasional black knot in it, but when she first saw him, it had been a deep brown color full of ridges.

She’d asked Ozolos about them numerous times, because she suspected he knew plenty, but thus far, he’d yet to elaborate. Thankfully, one of the other reapers within the CID, name of Valess, had been able to illuminate a few things for her.

Next page on the 9th

Thanks for your patience, everybody. I'll remember this time. The 9th. Definitely the 10th. Just kidding, the 9th.

Hope you're all having a good holiday season so far.

Page 3736

When she first became a servant and met this enigma of a reaper, it had been more than a little confusing. She’d sometimes heard her parents talk about their reapers and their personalities, but with Ozolos being the very first one she ever spoke to herself, she’d still needed Axiolis to come along shortly thereafter and inform her that they weren’t all like that.

‘Ozolos is someone who never moves at anyone’s pace other than his own,’ Axiolis had told her. ‘I won’t lie to you, girl. He may become a source of regular frustration for you. He may confuse you and annoy you and even cause problems for you with other people, who also find him bothersome. But one thing I have learned about him over the many Ages that I have known him is that deep down, he has wisdom. And when the chips are down, when it really matters, you will be able to rely on him.’

For her part, after five or so years as his servant, Gema still didn’t quite know if she agreed with that assessment. She’d been trying to give the reaper the benefit of the doubt, but it was hard, sometimes.

Life was hard, sometimes. And being considerate became all the more difficult.

She’d yelled at the reaper quite a bit, early on. Lost her cool.

It never seemed to faze Ozolos in the slightest. Perhaps that was why she’d stopped. She would’ve liked to believe, instead, that it was simply because she’d grown more mature and level-headed, but eh. That was probably wishful thinking, she knew.

Here and now, the reaper was attached to her back, just below her right shoulder. Not saying a word, as usual.

This was another of his habits. He often just grabbed onto her with no explanation and went along for the ride. She was beginning to think he just didn’t like floating around under his own power or something.

On this occasion, at least, there was justification for it. Reapers were vulnerable to psychics--not always, but often. Clinging to her like this afforded him a bit more protection against them.

Technically, Ozolos had undergone the exact same training as she had, but it was anyone’s guess if it had stuck. The two of them hadn’t encountered any problems thus far, so it was probably fine, but still. It was a nagging thought. One of many, when it came to Ozolos.

Page 3735

The strangest part of it all, however, had to be the fact that her increased emotional disturbance was actually useful to her work. Her worry over her family’s circumstances made it easier to summon an emotional smokescreen for her thoughts against psychics. She just had to think about her father for a bit--or her little siblings--and the emotions popped right up, persisting even after she started thinking about other things.

Much of the training had been about achieving that emotional summon on command in one’s mind. Entering the appropriate state of mind. Controlling the breathing. Tapping into memories. Or conjuring imaginary scenarios, if memories didn’t do the trick. And meditation, too, of course.

Now that all seemed a bit unnecessary. She had a shortcut to use.

Or at least, that was how Miles had reframed the situation for her.

<“Make use of what is useful,”> he’d told her. <“However you can. Even when it’s painful.”>

She still didn’t know to feel about that. Or about him, frankly. He’d always seemed to have an answer for everything. A solution for every problem. But sometimes, those solutions were a bit... unsettling.

She’d wanted to ask him and Overra more about what had really transpired in Sair, before the war broke out, but he’d been so difficult to get ahold of. The one time she’d been able to talk to him had been over the phone, and he’d told her not to worry too much and that it would all get sorted out, eventually.

<“It’s all a big mess and too difficult to explain right now, but trust me when I say that your family and everyone else are going to be just fine. Once things settle down a little, I promise to answer all your questions. For now, just focus on your missions. Fen’s got you doing important work for him, right? I knew you’d be a perfect fit over there.”>

She didn’t exactly take that advice to heart, at first. Her trip back home to Aguarey had required quite a bit of finesse and favor-providing, especially on the part of her reaper, Ozolos. He was a very old reaper--on par, even, with Axiolis--and so, he had a number of friends within the Vanguard to ask for help.

He certainly hadn’t been quick about it, though. For as long as she’d known him, Ozolos had always been peculiar. Even among other reapers, he apparently had that reputation.

My bad, guys. Thought I said the 5th

Whoops. I really thought I said the 5th. Didn't mean to freak you guys out. Next page will up tonight at midnight PST.

Next page on the 4th

Thanks for reading, everyone.

Page 3734

That last fight with her parents had been so bad. The memory of it was still dreadfully vivid in her mind. Some of the things she’d said...

And yeah, her parents had said some horrible things, too. Particularly her mother. And yeah, Gema certainly didn’t regret everything that she had said. There’d been several years’ worth of cathartic release from that conversation.

But there was one thing she felt guilty about above all the rest.

“I wish you were dead! I wish you and your bitch sister had been killed along with everyone else that day!”

It was painful even to think about. Strict as he might’ve been with her, Papa hadn’t deserved that. Nor had Aunt Joana.

The worst thing, though, was that Papa hadn’t even gotten mad.

He’d just looked hurt.

That expression on his face. She’d never seen it before.

In the moment, worked up as she was, she’d actually been happy about that reaction. She’d intentionally said the most hurtful thing that she could think of, after all. And she’d succeeded. Achieved her goal.

Then her mother immediately slapped the shit out of her and yelled at her to get out of the house.

It wasn’t until later, after she’d left and started to calm down, that she began to feel regret.

Now, all these years later, calling it regret would have been an understatement. That expression on her father’s face haunted her.

Especially lately.

News of the turmoil in Sair had done nothing to soothe her heart. And then the greater war, as well?

She’d actually managed to get reassigned to Sair after the war broke out, working as a scout, but that hadn’t lasted long. The call came down that Frederick was in need of agents with anti-psychic training, and so she answered.

There hadn’t been anything to see in Sair, anyway. She’d been too late. She visited the family estate in Aguarey, but there was no one there. Not even the staff had remained behind. Good thing, too, since the city had turned into a battlefield.

Now she didn’t even know if that house would still be there when she returned.

If she returned.

So she’d decided to throw herself into her work. Fully commit to the cause. Few were more just than this one, after all. This war needed fighting. And its warriors needed information, resources, and allies. She intended to do her part and then some.