Page 3781

If it were only Iceheart’s interference that he had to worry about, this whole situation might not have been so bad. He was a threat, of course, but a controllable one. The Gargoyle, however, was proving exceedingly obnoxious. As ever.

Her ability to melt into the environment and--quite literally--turn the world against him was something that had never become easier to deal with. Even after all these years, she was still one of the most irksome opponents he’d ever face. And at this point, he may well have fought more battles against her than anyone else in his life. Rarely ever had she managed to wound him, but she always managed to find ways to make things more difficult. Battles of attrition were perhaps her specialty now, and this one certainly qualified as that.

One might have thought that all these rolling seas and howling winds would be causing no end of trouble for her here, but if they were, it wasn’t obvious. Perhaps they were even helping her by masking her movements. Whenever a surge of water lashed against him or a gust threatened to knock him off course, it could have been her doing. Or it could’ve just been the chaos of this fight.

He remembered hearing from Ito that she’d recently begun harnessing lightning, too, and indeed, it seemed to be so. The dark skies cracked and flashed constantly, and while it was thankfully not as controlled as Dozer might’ve expected, it was still quite the hassle, especially for his men. Ito himself was here somewhere, but Dozer kept losing track of him.

Had to stay focused on Kallmakk. The feldeath was still the most pressing concern, of course.

After two days of combat, Dozer still didn’t really know how much of the creature’s power he could withstand, but he was keen to find out, now that it was finally his turn to be its punching bag.

He met its charge head on. Kallmakk plowed into his becalmed sphere of influence like a thrashing bull, covered in seawater and enormous bulbs of dark energy. Lightning sparked across its hulking form as he drew close, and then there was suddenly a massive claw flying toward him from the right.

Dozer swatted it away, just like he did with the beam, but rather than flying away, the claw exploded apart and disintegrated.

That didn’t stop the rest of its body from slamming into him, though.

Page 3780

In the early days, some half-millennia ago, the very concept of inertia hadn’t even been discovered yet. It had therefore been quite difficult and laborious to arrive at any kind of understanding of its nature. In fact, it wasn’t until a couple centuries of undeath that he really began to feel as though he’d truly wrapped his head around it. And even now, he occasionally still found himself questioning what he thought he knew.

His younger years had been quite turbulent, as a result. For a while, he’d thought that his power was simply to “adjust the weight” of things. That he could only make things lighter or heavier. Then he went through a period where he thought that, no, perhaps his power was instead to control some otherworldly force and flame, granted to him by the Void itself. There was ancient precedent for that, after all. Some called it the Inferno. Then, still later, he learned about a discovery called friction, and so he thought it might be that, too.

Even after he’d learned about inertia, that hadn’t been the end of his uncertainty. While he did indeed settle on it as the most likely candidate over which his power held sway, there eventually came the discovery of subatomic particles, which again threw him for a loop, making him reevaluate everything.

Ultimately, though, he returned to inertia, as it was the most fitting. He decided that even though it seemed like he could manipulate subatomic particles quite freely, everything of which he was capable could still be explained by the manipulation of inertia upon those same particles. The localized generation of heat, for example, might have looked like the result of excitement in particle vibrations, but it also could have been the subatomic application of inertia upon particles within an open system.

The sudden, dramatic change in inertia for certain particles but not others could theoretically create a need for energy transference among said particles in order to reestablish equilibrium. And the more dramatic the change, the more rapid the need would become.

The more heated, in other words.

So Iceheart’s ability to remove the heat out of any system, while indeed deadly, was by itself not nearly enough to give Dozer trouble. As long as he could still think, he could create as much heat as he needed. And in this fight, with his soul power added on top of things, he was constantly keeping his entire body heated nearly to the point of bursting into flames.

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Page 3779

Historically, however, the confusion had also been something of a boon to himself. The more nuanced his ability was, the more difficulty his enemies would have in trying to understand everything of which he was capable. And of course, whenever he made a breakthrough with it, that only served to throw his opponents for even more of a loop.

Not that he could expect such convenience when fighting a feldeath.

Kallmakk was still giving him its full attention, obviously unbothered by the relative ease with which Dozer had deflected its attack. It was bearing down on him like a battleship.

And it was nearly the size of one, too. To his eyes, the creature was a great serpent with multiple humanoid heads. Each of its gazes was alight with black-and-white fire, and its hulking body moved in utterly impossible ways, tearing through the open water with no resistance whatsoever.

Worse still, its apparent lack of limbs was a deception. He knew only too well that long, stringy arms with razor sharp claws could appear from nowhere and flash across his vision in an instant, threatening to shred him with hardly a moment’s warning.

And there was even more to worry about, too, thanks to the other attackers. As much as Dozer had been anticipating this attention from Kallmakk, there could be little doubt that the Vanguardians had been waiting for this opportunity with even greater eagerness.

This was their chance, after all. To gang up on him all at once.

The flash freezing effects of Iceheart were already here, Dozer knew, with stealthier addendums on the way, no doubt. And the blasted Gargoyle was aiming to smother him with a tornado of mud and rock, if only to help conceal everyone else’s attacks. And all the little underlings were flinging their attacks at him, too, of course.

Kallmakk charging him head on. And every Vanguardian providing covering fire?

A bit much, even for him.

Thankfully, he had his own subordinates to pull some of the weight off his shoulders.

He could focus primarily on Kallmakk, Iceheart, and Sanko.

The flash freezing was countered easily enough with simple heat generation. That was one of the earlier tricks that Dozer had mastered, but it had of course required considerable refinement in order to repel the mind-numbing oppression of Iceheart’s power over absolute zero.

It was a good thing he’d developed that particular technique so much, too, because Dozer’s alteration power over inertia might have struggled to deal with such a problem, otherwise.

Page 3778

And while it was an easy solution when the situation grew too immediately chaotic, it was also part of the reason why the storm kept worsening. Ultimately, the technique only served to heighten the disturbances in the atmosphere, especially when conducted by multiple people in rapid succession.

Almost like they were boiling the sea.

He could already tell that the environmental damage of this battle was going to be a lasting one. And being in the middle of the Luthic Ocean to boot? The coasts of Eloa, Ardora, and Qenghis were all going to feel this one. Maybe the other continents, too, if things didn’t conclude soon.

It thrilled him to his core.

Sure, it was annoying. Kallmakk was a bastard. Morgunov was a jackass. The Vanguard were fools.

But dammit if it didn’t also feel good to truly let loose again. With as safe as he normally liked to play things, opportunities like this had become genuinely rare.

When it was finally his turn to receive the brunt of Kallmakk’s attention, Dozer couldn’t help smiling just a bit.

A solid beam of dark energy divided the sea in two, creating a canyon with cliffs of water so deep that the ocean floor became briefly visible in the moments of lightning flashing across the sky.

Dozer didn’t dodge it, though. He swatted it away with the back of his hand, and the beam arced off into the distance like a streaming firework, skipping across the water before finally exploding into a black dome of pure energy that kicked up yet more tidal waves.

Dozer’s entire arm was smote black, numb, and trembling, but that was all. Not as bad as he expected, honestly. Probably not Kallmakk’s full power, then, judging by some of the other mad things that he’d witnessed the feldeath do.

Heh. Or perhaps he was simply stronger than even he himself realized. It had been quite a while since he’d tested his own limits, after all.

Dozer’s ability was a rather uncommon one. He’d only met a few people over the course of his life who shared it. Moreover, it was peculiar enough that he’d come to believe some people might have manifested it without even realizing what it truly was, instead believing it to be something else. Vibrations, for instance. Or perhaps velocity as a whole.

But those were too broad. Young alteration users often made that mistake, not understanding the more specific natures of their powers until they were much older. It didn’t help that they usually started off pathetically weak, compared to other ability types.

Page 3777

As for the battle itself, Dozer had to acknowledge that it was indeed a unique one. Over the course of his very long life, he’d never been involved in one quite like this.

The utter chaos that Kallmakk brought to the field meant that different people could obtain the brunt of its pursuit at different times. It would fixate on Gohvis, then on Morgunov, then on Sanko, and so on and so forth. Dozer had yet to get a turn himself, but if this stalemate continued for much longer, then it was probably only a matter of time.

And with each shift of the feldeath’s primary attention, there came with it virtually no warning. Nor did the timing seem particularly predictable, either. Sometimes, Kallmakk would change targets within minutes. Other times, it might take hours.

The result of this madness was that the battle had carried them all the way to the western coast of Ardora.

And beyond it, even.

Gone were the Gettira Plains and the Jaskadan Forest. Which was quite irritating for him, since he still had business left undone there. Instead, they were replaced by the vast and unbelievably turbulent expanse of the Luthic Ocean.

They fought on the open water, amid raging waves as tall as skyscrapers. The sky darkened regularly, sometimes even completely. Such was the Nightspinner’s power. More than once, Dozer had gotten tossed around by pitch black waters. Even his soul senses were of little use, much of the time. Ardor permeated everything, rolling just as chaotically as the waves themselves.

And the storm. Their fighting had kicked up a hurricane, and it, too, had been following them since the coast, as if it had also developed a mind of its own.

More likely, it was just a natural consequence of atmospheric disturbance. Storms were a common result when servants of this level clashed, even on land. The ocean just seemed to amplify it.

For his part, the water wasn’t such a problem, really. Disorienting, sure. Annoying, of course. But whenever he needed to reestablish himself and get his bearings back, Dozer could do so with ease. The ocean waters around him would break with explosive force, creating a becalmed pocket of air the size of a city block--or even bigger, if he preferred.

That was the sphere of influence at work. The conquering of the environment, using nothing but the strength of one’s soul. The others could all do it, too. Even some of the underlings could pull it off, Dozer had noticed.

Page 3776 -- CCCVIII.

Chapter Three Hundred Eight: ‘The Crisis in the Luthic...’
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Rarely had the Living Void been pushed so hard. Kallmakk the Nightspinner simply would not die. Crushing blow after crushing blow, the stubborn bastard took them all--and kept moving forward, besides.

Since joining, Dozer had been fighting for two entire days without a true break. And apparently, the battle had already been going on for multiple days beforehand.

At times, it was an exercise in tedium. A battle of incredible attrition. The feldeath’s mood was likely to blame. Dozer had noticed that about his encounters with the creatures over the years. Their energy levels tended to fluctuate, even in the midst of combat.

It had to do with the way they became enraged, he suspected. It only made sense that their emotions would subside after a while, if only by a little. And with it, their attacks became slightly less ferocious.

Of course, to the average combatant, such differences would probably be imperceptible. Even their weaker attacks were still capable of obliterating most servants.

Not to mention, the lulls were temporary. In drawn out conflicts like this one, it was only a matter of time before the thing became enraged again.

And then things weren’t so tedious, all of a sudden. In fact, things became a little too exciting, even for Dozer’s liking.

The conventional wisdom, therefore, was to strike during a lull. If it was less dangerous, then it was more vulnerable, yes?

No. Because it also withdrew into itself during those times, bolstering its defenses. And with particularly powerful feldeaths like this one, doing any kind of damage to it at all became almost impossible.

It didn’t help that the blasted Gargoyle of Korgum had joined in the fray, either, along with a host of her underlings.

They didn’t really think they could score a kill on him or Morgunov here, did they? Whatever their plan had been with this so-called Blacksong, they had to have realized by now that it was not going their way. Gohvis had not turned against him--at least, not fully--and Iceheart’s half of the Vanguardian forces were clearly running on fumes.

How Lamont was even still in the fight, Dozer did not know. He was almost impressed. Maybe he’d make the man another offer to change sides. See if the winds had shifted at all since the last time they’d met.

Probably not, knowing the man’s reputation. But it never hurt to ask.

Next page on the 28th

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Page 3775

And so many little bells and whistles. Tiny things he’d added over time with nary a thought. A glowing bed of artificial flowers here. A waterless fountain, made entirely of Heartstone. A luminescent bird feeder, even though there were no birds here.

Perhaps he’d gone a bit overboard, now that he was thinking about it.

A stone Border Collie, locked in a running pose.

Yeah, okay. He’d definitely gone overboard. He hardly even remembered doing most of these.

Oh, that’s right. Many of them were probably the result of his sleepwalking. Or “sleepworking” as Marlizia liked to call it.

As they passed into the Black Citadel’s atrium, the full vastness of the compound became more visible. From this central area, any other location within the fortress could be reached. Every major hallway connected here, and stairways lined each the walls so that the second and third floors could be easily accessed, as well.

Daro didn’t linger. Their destination was the Eastern Laboratory.

Before reaching the corridor, however, he noticed that Zeff and Axiolis were lagging behind.

Gawking again, seemingly.

Flattering, perhaps, but also mildly annoying. Were they not the ones who should be feeling a sense of urgency here? He walked back over to them, still deciding on whether or not he wanted to chastise them.

Axiolis spoke up first. ‘This material here. Might you tell us what it is?’

Daro raised an eyebrow. They were both staring a tall stone pillar, one of a dozen that lined the atrium’s outer footpath. “Why? What is your interest in it?”

“...We feel like we’ve seen this before,” said Zeff. He touched the pillar with a pair of fingers. “Quite recently, in fact.”

Oh? Daro needed a moment to think about that. What might they be referring to? He didn’t recall building anything out of this stuff back in Vantalay. Or anywhere in the real world, for that matter.

And while it had certainly been a while since he’d made them, but he remembered clearly enough what these particular pillars had been hewn from. Unlike some of the other decorations around here, it wasn’t Heartstone or Luughite or basteria. Not khamarasta or Ardoran angel stone, either.

“You recognize it, do you?” said Daro. “I find that curious. Its formation was from a most ancient recipe. One that I feared might become lost to history. Hence why I went to great lengths recreating it.”

‘Almost lost to history, you say? Do you even know its original name, then?’

Daro smiled. “Nightrock.”

Page 3774

When he found it, the Remapper’s rings became a lens through which he could look at the dark hole in the workspace’s weave. To the naked eye, the hole remained unchanged, but when he peered through the cylinder formed by the rings, he could see through to the desired destination, allowing him to visually confirm that he had indeed chosen the correct space with his mind.

Through that clear portal lay his second most advanced workspace. The Black Citadel, he’d dubbed it. Many of his more elaborate projects were placed there--though not the Anvil, of course.

The Fusion Forge was actually an entire workspace unto itself, and he had never taken anyone else there, save Marlizia. Nor did he ever intend to.

With another slash of the Needle, he widened the portal enough for both him and Zeff Elroy to step through. He went first, ushering for the Water Dragon to follow.

The man did so, though not without obvious hesitation. When he and Axiolis were both through, Daro twisted the handle on the Needle again, and the portal blinked shut, leaving the invisible weave untouched.

There were other ways to breach the weave, of course, but the Needle did so without damaging it. Which meant that, in all likelihood, that previous workspace was now damaged by whoever snuck the Water Dragon into it.

Rather annoying. Daro didn’t know if he would be able to find the time to go hunt down the damaged sector and repair it. Depending on how subtle the damage was, that could take quite a while. But leaving it that way might also prove dangerous. Like a tunnel that some stranger had dug into his property.

Well, that was why he had so many different workspaces. The lesser ones could serve as decoys. And the greater ones, like the Citadel here, had much more elaborate defenses baked into them.

“...What in the world?” said Zeff Elroy, gawking as they made their way down the enormous portcullis that led up to the Citadel proper. “You made all this?”

Daro had to pause and look around for a moment. Hmm. He supposed it was rather ornate these days, wasn’t it? He’d gotten so accustomed to the place that the view hardly even registered for him, anymore. The sky-bending towers. The sweeping, intricate archways. The gargantuan doorways. The sparkling moat. The twinkling stars lighting up the endless night.

Page 3773

The resonance point was only a short walk away. Technically, he could have brought it closer if he really felt like it, but that would bring with it a needless risk of destabilizing the weaves within the workspace’s fabric. And repairing that would be a pain in the ass. More than once, he’d ended up merely scrapping a space entirely rather than trying to fix it. At a certain point, it was better to simply move everything important out and then start over from scratch.

The Remapper was good for that task, if necessary, but here and now, he only wanted it for connectivity. As the three of them neared the resonance point, the rings of the Remapper came alive with movement and a soft white glow. Slowly, as he pointed them at the correct location, they positioned themselves into a perfectly cylindrical form. That was their primary function: to aid him in pinpointing the exact spot of geographic resonance within a given domain.

In this case, having built this place himself, he didn’t necessarily need the Remapper’s help for that, but using it was a force of habit by now. Better to be precise than to rely on his fallible memory, especially if he happened to mix this workspace up with one of the others. Some of them looked extremely similar, after all.

He’d made that mistake once before, actually. And he’d ended up having to scour the domain up and down for nearly two weeks before finding the resonance point again and finally escaping.

Talk about embarrassing. Good thing Marlizia wasn’t the type to make fun of him. Most other reapers would’ve never let him live that down--and probably told everyone they knew about it, too.

The Needle was what actually aided in parting the weaves and opening the doorway out of the workspace. With a twist of the handle, the tip popped open, exposing its multiple small spikes, which crackled with an electric current.

That current, however, was no normal thing. It pulled on his very soul with enough force to knock a younger servant out cold. For him, it was merely uncomfortable, but he knew that if he sustained it for too long, it would become truly dangerous.

Incidentally, he’d been working on a means of properly weaponizing that interaction, but it was proving more difficult than expected.

With a vertical swipe, the Needle ripped a hole through the resonance point. It was merely a pitch-black space at first, which was where the Remapper came in again. He held it up to the hole and concentrated, searching his mind for the correct workspace.

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Page 3772

Agh, but what sense did that make? Why announce her arrival so publicly if she’d intended to conduct stealth operations against him?

Perhaps she’d changed her plans partway through. Perhaps she’d wanted to give him something to worry about. Or perhaps she was just one of those mercurial individuals who never really made plans in the first place, much less stuck to them. Daro had known a few like that in his time. They always drove him absolutely mad.

Regardless, he needed to go check on things now.

Or. No. Wait a moment. Did he truly need to do that? Wouldn’t that be precisely what his unseen opponent would expect him to do? And even if not, doing so might alert them that he was onto their game.

Yes. The smarter move, therefore, would be to either play along or do something completely unpredictable. And besides, he had confidence in his work. The weaves were strong. They could resist tremendous efforts to damage or otherwise tamper with them. Not to mention, none of the perimeter sensors had alerted him to any unexpected visitors. And while that was hardly proof of security, he had spent considerable labor upgrading those sensors himself.

He should have more faith in himself, he decided. If he panicked over every little wrinkle, he wouldn’t last through another year of this secrecy, let alone ten.

What to do with this Water Dragon, though? The man was giving him a look like he was expecting to receive terrible news. Not assuming that Daro was actually going to help him, eh? Sensible. From what Daro had learned of the Rainlords’ recent exploits, they must’ve been growing quite accustomed to things never going their way.

On this day, however, Daro was pleased to surprise. “Very well. I shall help you.”

And the ensuing expression on Zeff Elroy’s face was as enjoyable as Daro expected. “...You will?” said Zeff.

Daro turned and began walking. “Follow me,” he said as he reached into his vest for a pair of devices. A Remapper and Needle, as he’d dubbed them.

The Remapper was a messy cluster of metallic circles connected by thin, flexible rods. To the untrained eye, it probably looked like some of kind of monstrous, janitorial key ring--which wouldn’t be entirely inaccurate.

The Needle, however, looked very little like its namesake. It was more akin to a baton with a sturdy handle, though the mechanical tip did conceal a few sharp points within it.

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Page 3771

Conventional wisdom suggested that she wanted to keep an eye on this corner of the war for Sai-hee. After all, the servant empress was supposed to be quite influential in Steccat, which was Vantalay’s northern neighbor--and also one of the three most powerful nations on the Eloan continent. If the conflict here spread all the way up there, Sai-hee would almost certainly take action.

But if Jun’s objective was merely to observe, then why had she made such a show of her arrival? That had not been some accident. The woman had conducted a veritable parade down Mahzuz--or “Lucky Street,” as most tourists knew it. She’d even had a small troupe of Sai-hee’s famous Wind Dancers escorting her and entertaining the onlookers.

Not exactly the typical modus operandi for the Wandering Phantom, as far as Daro knew. She was supposed to be quite reclusive, like all the Kubi, whose names were often not widely known, nor their face recognizable. Even Daro didn’t know who each of the current five members were, and he’d been trying to find out for years.

He did know about Leo the Bull Leech, though. And it certainly hadn’t escaped his notice that the man was currently working alongside the Rainlords in this very country. It seemed furthermore apparent that Leo was trying to keep a low profile, as well, which begged all sorts of questions.

Daro had been expecting Jun to at least make contact with Leo--or vice versa, perhaps--but if the two of them had done so, then they’d successfully managed to hide it from him. Which was quite the feat, because Daro had eyes on Leo at nearly all times.

There had, however, been a quite public meeting between Jun and Graves, right after her arrival. In fact, it had nearly turned into a fight, until Linus and Kristof intervened.

But after that, Jun had gone completely dormant. Supposedly, she’d just been quietly gambling, sunbathing, attending evening shows, and ordering room service. Enjoying a nice vacation in the middle of this war, seemingly.

Perhaps she was just living up to her moniker. Wandering without purpose. Doing as she pleased.

Daro had to plan for the worst, though. If she was trying to get to him--to his most concealed workspaces--then it was possible that she could’ve been using Zeff Elroy here as a distraction while she probed his defenses.

Page 3770

It was Marlizia’s dream, sure--as well as his own, at this point--but he would not succumb to something as moronic as the sunk cost fallacy. Even if he spent the rest of his life struggling for that answer and never found it, then so be it. This was the survival of the human species that they were talking about. Nothing was more important than that. Not even freedom from tyranny.

So to say that the Black Artisan of Vantalay was feeling conflicted at the moment would have been quite the understatement. He absolutely could not do anything that might jeopardize the secrecy of his work, and the Water Dragon’s mere presence here was rather strong evidence that someone was already snooping around. Searching for weaknesses in his defenses.

How much did they already know? Certainly not everything, or else Ridgemark would already be a crater.

And it was furthermore obvious to Daro that Zeff Elroy here was not at fault. Whether the man realized it or not, he was a pawn in some greater player’s game. But who? Graves? Daro had been intensely wary of the Pale Hawk from the very moment of the man’s arrival in Vantalay.

From all of Daro’s surveillance of him, Graves appeared to be quite preoccupied with the war effort. It seemed unlikely that he would even have the time for this at the moment, especially considering the risks involved. Toying with his own allies? Endangering their fragile partnership in this corner of the war?

Hmm. It was possible. A hell of a juggling act, perhaps. But possible.

Yet there was another threat that came even more readily to mind. The silent figure in Ridgemark. The one who’d all but disappeared since her arrival here, around the same time as Graves.

Daro had been wondering what she was up to all this time. But perhaps that was her goal. Why bother even revealing herself at all if she was only going to vanish throughout this entire conflict? Or maybe something had befallen her in secret? Neutralized her? Or killed her, even?

He was thinking of Jun. The Wandering Phantom, as some knew her. One of the famed Kubi, which were the five most powerful servants under Sai-hee.

Why, precisely, Jun had decided to come here to Ridgemark after the outbreak of the war, Daro had been trying his damnedest to discover.

Next page at noon again

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Page 3769

Real, living, human mortals. The older he’d gotten, the more he’d learned about the history of the world--the history of how oppressed normal human beings had been by forces beyond their control.

Or more accurately, by reapers.

Which was perhaps a strange point of focus to make, considering he was beholden to one himself, but he knew that Marlizia felt even more strongly on this subject than he did. She was the one who’d convinced him of the truth of it, after all.

Eleg was under a stranglehold. For thousands of years. It was the battleground and plaything of those whose time should have long since passed.

‘We are thieves of the youth,’ was how Malizia had put it. ‘We have all the time in the world, and yet it’s not enough. We have to steal away what little time mortals get by shaping the world to our will. Not just in petty and pointless wars, but also in the organization of society. I thought the Vanguard would be different with their rule of non-interference in mortal governments, but that has proved to be just another placating lie. Each new generation of human beings should have the chance to remold and reforge civilization anew. But they can’t do that when they’re stuck under the countless quiet tyrannies of superpowered immortals.’

Which was why, above all else, Daro Bright felt that his work--his true work--was too important to gamble with. Marlizia was obviously not like the rest of her kind. If they discovered what he was trying to accomplish...

It didn’t even bear thinking about. There would be no chance of survival. Not for him, Marlizia, or anyone near them.

But the actual task of excising reapers from the world was certainly no easy feat. Cancerous though they were, they still served an important function in the ferrying of souls into the afterlife.

In the prevention of feldeaths from being born, more specifically. Without an alternate solution to that little problem, removing reapers from the world was the same as dooming it. In Daro’s estimate, feldeaths would overrun the world and annihilate all of humanity within five hundred years.

He knew the stakes. The fire that he was playing with.

But he was also prepared to abandon the project entirely if a workable replacement for reapers could not be found.

Next page at noon

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Page 3768

Which was why he was particularly concerned about it being discovered during this conflict. He knew the prying eyes and ears were out there. Searching for a way in. The Vanguard and Abolish both. And others, too. The Old Wardens. The Andanatt. Those bastards might well be the greatest threat of all, as far as he was concerned.

And maybe one more whose name he did not yet know. Assuming they even had a name in the first place. He knew so little about their existence that they might not have even been real. It might’ve just been a feeling in his gut. That there was some unknown extra party out there, observing from some unknown place in some unknown way.

But beyond doubt, Daro Bright knew that if any of those groups found out what he was planning, they would stop at nothing to get in his way. They wouldn’t just kill him. They would seek out anything he’d touched in the last thirty years and annihilate it.

Including the Anvil, of course. His Fusion Forge.

Right now, he had to protect that above all else. Creating it had been an undertaking like none other. He had, quite literally, poured his very soul into it. To the point that he had needed two months to recover. And even then, he still hadn’t felt the same afterwards.

He likely never would, either. That was what it meant to harness the soul to such an extent. To sacrifice part of it, essentially. Fully recovering from that may’ve been simply impossible. Even for the undead.

His reaper, Marlizia, had not been pleased when she discovered his thoughts on that. It was her soul, too, after all. And that deal was even more than she’d bargained for, no doubt. It had been difficult enough to convince her that they should risk their lives in the attempt to construct the Anvil in the first place; so to then learn that they might never again be whole... well, that was just the cherry on top for her.

She had come around, though. Eventually.

The Anvil was his masterwork. It had been what allowed him to create these various “workspaces” for everything. Every future project. Every important idea.

Every single thing that needed hiding from the intrusive eyes of the world.

The Anvil was the beginning of everything. If he could just live long enough, survive long enough, then he could change this world. He could fulfill Marlizia’s dream for her. The one she hadn’t dared tell him about until he’d already been her servant for a hundred years.

He could give mortals a chance.

Page 3767

Over the course of his long life, Daro had naturally found plenty of opportunities to break from his norms. The recent news of human trafficking near Ridgemark, for example, had not come as much of a surprise. He’d seen it happening too many times over the last few decades.

It just never ended. Linus or Kristof or even Daro himself would ride over to the rumored region--sometimes quite far away from Ridgemark--and deal with the problem, only for it crop up again a year or two later.

Even the dysfunctional Vantalayan government had occasionally been their ally in such endeavors. There’d been times when, through such noble work, it had felt like the tension between the VMP and RPMP could potentially come to an end. That they could negotiate some sort of contract, perhaps, to preserve the peace of the nation.

And then, every time, something horrible would happen in that government. A public humiliation. A loss of confidence. An assassination. An entire regime change, even. And then all those prospects would dry up. Tension would return, greater than before.

Where was the land of his childhood? What had become of it? Even now, he did not understand why it had changed so much.

If anyone would understand, he knew these Rainlords would. Time and again throughout history, their land had been disputed. And now, again. At least Daro still had Ridgemark to call home.

So the temptation was certainly present to aid this poor man in front of him. To help Zeff Elroy in any way that he could think of.

But there were wrinkles. Big ones.

Axiolis had been right, of course. This workspace was but one of many. A lesser domain for less sensitive projects. And a serviceable decoy, besides.

Daro absolutely could not allow anyone to find his main project. Even his benefactor didn’t know what he was truly working on. All the things that he was providing for the RPMP, the weapons and armor and supplies--mere toys, in truth. Quick and dirty projects meant to appease. To keep eyes off of him while he continued his real work.

Not that it was near completion, of course. He didn’t know how many more years he might need in order to see it bear fruit. Gods, maybe it never would. That was always a possibility, now wasn’t it? Always the struggle when attempting to breach through the Veil into the unknown.

Page 3766

“If I do not curtail your natural curiosity,” said Zeff, “then we will be here until our gracious host decides that he can no longer tolerate our presence. I would sooner leave this place and let you ask your questions later.”

‘That’s understandable, but if there is, as I suspect, some kind of favorable time dilation in this workspace, then it would actually be best to indulge our curiosity before we leave, while the moments are lasting longer. Would my guess be correct, Master Artisan?’

“Hmph. It would, yes. But I rather appreciate your servant’s desire to not impose. And time dilation is not without its own costs, especially now that our souls are sharing this space. It would still be better not to linger without clear purpose. Plus, I have matters to attend to.”

‘I see. Well, then perhaps I should skip a few of my questions and get right to the objective. Would you happen to know of any item or artifact that could help locate a lost person?’

At that, Zeff’s eyes widened a little. The mere idea of such a thing was enough to spark an almost unwelcome sense of hope in his chest.

“A soul compass, you mean?” said Daro.

‘Or anything functionally similar to one, yes. Anything we could use to find a person whose whereabouts we currently have no clues for.’

Daro scratched his brow. “What is the nature of your need, precisely?”

Zeff could answer that. “Lost children. My own. One kidnapped. Another simply missing.” There was Gema, too, of course, but her circumstances were more questionable and less pressing than those of Emiliana and Francisco, he felt.

The other man’s stony expression twitched.

-+-+-+-+-

Daro Bright’s heart was breaking. Of all things, kidnapping? The mere mention of it was enough to bring on a tidal wave of bad memories.

Vantalay, his beloved homeland, had seen many horrible things over the last half-century. This current power struggle between Ridgemark and the rest of the nation was merely the apex of a long buildup of problems that never seemed to get addressed. Only swept under the rug.

It wasn’t typically Daro’s purview to worry about such things, though. His talents were best spent in the background, toiling away on projects that could aid others in the medium- and long-term. Dealing with the ugly flaws and terrible complexities of the world was more the work of Linus and Kristof.

Usually.

Next page on the 14th

Thanks for reading, as always.

Page 3765

‘In that case, I am surprised you were not much more aggressive upon first seeing us here,’ said Ax. ‘Perhaps I was mistaken, but you came across as more annoyed than truly threatening.’

“Hmph. I do not eagerly resort to violence. Much more can be learned and accomplished through conversation, even with hostile individuals. Sometimes, especially with hostile individuals.”

Ax kept pushing, though. ‘Even so, you are trying to protect your life’s work, are you not? I hardly would’ve blamed you if you considered that more important than virtually anything else and had decided to attack us on sight.’

Daro met the reaper’s gaze steadily. “My friend, you are either very understanding or very much trying to coax something out of me.”

‘Heh. Well, I am a reaper, after all. ‘Twas not my intention to pump you for information in any surreptitious manner, but perhaps my instincts got the better of me. I apologize if I have caused offense.’

“Hmph.”

Zeff eyed the both of them for a moment, then decide to address Ax openly. “If you’re curious about something, then just be direct with him. That has always been our way.”

Ax returned a look. In the echo of privacy, he said, ‘It most certainly hasn’t.’

Zeff just furrowed his brow.

After another few silent beats, however, the reaper spoke publicly again. ‘Fine. Mr. Bright. I’m quite old. I’ve known many a powerful inventor in my time. And heard the tales of many more. But never have I known them to be so... calm when the fruits of their long labors have been threatened. Now, I am not saying that Zeff and I are such a threat, of course, but it does strike me as quite strange that you are not MUCH more upset with us for being here, right now.’

Daro’s flat expression didn’t budge. “So? What of it? Am I supposed to be bothered about being different from all the wackos you’ve known?”

The reaper chortled. ‘I should think not, no. But it does make me question how precious this ‘workspace’ is to you. It seemed quite a useful and powerful thing to have, at first. In fact, I can say I’ve never personally seen the like before. But perhaps to you, this place is actually... quite mundane and unimportant? Just one of many, perhaps?’

The Black Artisan made no response.

Zeff was beginning to feel impatient. “Ax, what difference does it make? This is none of our business.”

The reaper sighed. ‘Why do I feel like the two of you are cut from the same cloth?’

Page 3764

“Hmph. You said you were fine.” The Artisan sounded rather annoyed again, and he held up Zeff’s own wrist as if to the show the man something he hadn’t seen before. “You’re not. You have no pulse.”

“Oh.” That remark, Zeff felt compelled to respond to. “Well, yes, as we said, it’s been several days. Without food or water, of course my flesh has died.”

“Then you should not have said you were fine,” said Daro.

“Why not? It’s hardly a bother for the undead.”

“Because it supports your claim of innocence.”

Zeff was lost. “What? How?”

“Hmph. You really are out of your depth here, aren’t you?” He finally let go of Zeff and turned around in order to pace a few steps back, rubbing his chin again as he seemed to be lost in thought for a time. “Perhaps I will share a few things with you, Water Dragon.”

“Alright...” He still had questions, of course, but he also had a feeling that this odd man was only going to continue generating new ones, regardless of what Zeff asked.

“This war has put me in a rather difficult position,” said Daro. “War tends to do that to everyone, of course, but without hubris, I say that mine is especially so. And perhaps you can already surmise why.”

Axiolis answered for them. ‘Your technology?’

“Hmph. Yes. You’ve gotten a few glimpses of my work already, yes?”

‘We’ve seen your ‘ramata’ weapon. It was indeed impressive.’

A brief silence passed as Daro eyed them expectantly. “...Is that it? Just the ramata? No other works?”

Zeff and Axiolis exchanged uncertain looks.

‘Uh... oh, did you work on those Invisibility rings, too, perhaps?’

“Those? A trifle.” A small smile crossed his face. “Huh. Perhaps my efforts at concealing my work have been going better than I thought, then. Pleasant news! Hmph!”

‘So you are concerned about your ideas being stolen during this conflict?’

“Yes and no. Such theft is, in some ways, inevitable. Ideas must proliferate in order for this world of ours to advance, yes? And theft at a particularly bad time can have terrible consequences, of course. But what I am most concerned about is my work being destroyed.”

‘Ah, of course,’ said Ax. ‘A familiar historical tale.’

“There are those seeking to use the chaos unfolding around Ridgemark in order to move against me. To steal, as you said. Or to destroy.”

Page 3763

“What are you going to do?” said Zeff.

Rather than answering, Daro asked a question of his own. “How long have you two been stuck here?”

‘Several days, we think,’ said Ax. ‘It is difficult to tell.’

“And how do you feel, right now?” said Daro, stepping closer to Zeff and eyeing him up and down.

“Fine...?”

“Fine, you say?” The man looked abruptly annoyed. “Pardon me, but I must inspect you now.”

“What do you mean inspect?”

“Physically. May I have your permission to lay my hands on you? It won’t take but a minute, nor will it be invasive.”

The edges of Zeff’s mouth curled down. “Why?”

“I will explain after. For now, please. ‘Twill be a mere examination. Quick and painless. I promise.”

His frown only deepened, and he looked to Ax for some sort of guidance.

‘Well, at least he is asking for permission,’ said the reaper privately. ‘Just say yes.’

Zeff released a growling sigh. “Very well. Do what you must.”

“Appreciated.”

The man’s hands found Zeff’s face and turned his chin left, then right. He brought Zeff’s head down to his own and then stared directly into his eyes.

Daro’s black pupils and brown irises went gray, then the sclera did, too, making them look almost like they’d turned to stone.

Then Zeff felt the entire world waver, as if it were suddenly closing in around him. A great pressure arrived all over his body, as if he’d been wrapped up in cloth.

His body wanted to panic. Wanted to twitch and flail. But his mind remained firm. Unbothered.

Then Daro’s eyes went from mere gray to pitch black, and the intensity all around Zeff heightened. Doubled. Tripled, perhaps.

Zeff was unfazed, however.

This strange state continued on for a few moments more, and then it abated. Daro’s gaze returned to normal, as did the world.

“Hmph. Interesting.” Daro let go of his face and moved down to Zeff’s left arm, feeling along the wrist with both thumbs. “Sorry about that,” he said without looking up. “That hadn’t been what I intended to test, but I noticed something and grew curious. I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised that a Water Dragon would be in possession of that.”

Zeff wanted to ask what, but he held his tongue. Daro seemed to be focusing, and questions could wait until this exam was over.

Page 3762

Zeff and Axiolis merely waited for the man to complete his thought. If they had accidentally intruded upon his space--whatever it was--then Zeff didn’t feel like the guy had an obligation to tell them anything.

“...It’s a workspace,” said the Artisan. His bushy black eyebrows settled flatly over his gaze, creating an expression that seemed somewhat stern but not necessarily upset or angry. The man’s modest stature made it so he had to look up at Zeff, but the bulk on his frame and the confidence in his tone suggested that he felt in no way beneath the person he was looking at.

‘Interesting,’ said Axiolis. ‘Is this a physical space? As in, are we truly here? Or are our minds merely being projected here while our bodies remain in the real world?’

“It’s physical,” said Daro. “Partially, anyway. In order to conduct certain tests, I needed it to retain at least some of the same physical properties as reality.”

Perhaps this was going to end up a pointless question, but Zeff couldn’t help asking it. “How were you able to create this place?”

The Artisan regarded him for a long moment, weighing him with his eyes. “It’s complicated.”

“I don’t doubt it,” said Zeff, looking around again. “I’m simply... flabbergasted, I suppose. I thought this was some sort of natural phantom realm. A mere shadow of reality, perhaps, but still natural nonetheless. To think it is actually a man-made construct... I...”

“Hmph. Impressed, are you?”

“You could say that.”

“You are a materializer, yes?”

Zeff cocked an eyebrow. “That’s right.”

Daro took another moment to eye them both as he rubbed his chin. “And you really have no idea how you ended up here?”

‘We were thinking maybe it was some natural phenomenon that we got caught up in, but we can’t recall experiencing anything that strange recently.’

“Or that someone kidnapped us,” added Zeff. “But if you’re the founder of this realm and didn’t even know we were here, then I suppose it wasn’t that, either.”

Daro’s chin-rubbing seemed to increase in intensity, and his eyes narrowed. Like Zeff, he also decided to look around. “No. That second guess might’ve been correct, though it obviously wasn’t my doing. I’ve no reason to meddle with you or your affairs.”

“If not you, then who?” said Zeff.

“That is indeed the question. And I fear I know the answer. But I must be sure.”

Page 3761

Lakefire. What was the problem going to be this time, Zeff wondered? ‘How “not good” are we talking here?’

‘Well, considering the fact that I haven’t sensed anything at all--other than you--the entire time we’ve been here, it could be that my senses are being blocked. And to accomplish that feat would require someone or something quite powerful.’

‘Wonderful.’

‘But who knows? They could be friendly. Or perhaps my senses simply don’t work in this realm to begin with.’

‘But if you can still sense me, then shouldn’t that mean they’re working just fine?’

‘In theory. Hence why I haven’t been too bothered about it until now. But our connection as reaper and servant might guarantee my ability to sense you regardless of what strange spaces we find ourselves in. It is difficult to be sure.’

It didn’t take much longer to reach their estimated destination. With no other clues or senses to rely on, they still had to resort to a visual search.

Before they discovered anything, however, a shout from afar found them first.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing here?! This is private property!”

It took Zeff a second to comprehend the words, because they were Valgan, and while he was mostly fluent in it, he still required some processing time in his head. He turned and saw a figure running over to him from the other end of the road.

He braced himself for hostilities, but after a few moments, he was surprised to discover that he actually recognized who it was.

And judging from the expression on the other man’s face, the feeling was mutual. “Wait a minute,” the fellow said, still in Valgan. “Is that you, Water Dragon?”

Zeff couldn’t conceal his own surprise. He was worse at speaking in Valgan, so he stuck with Mohssian, feeling quite confident that this man would be more than merely fluent in it. “It is. And is that you, Black Artisan?”

Daro Bright the Black Artisan, one of the three most powerful servants within the RPMP, flashed between irritation and amusement. “Yes, it is,” he said, now also in Mohssian. “How in the black hells did you get here?”

‘We have no idea,’ said Axiolis. ‘We simply woke up and found ourselves in this place. Is this... your domain, perhaps?’

“Yes, it’s a--” Daro cut himself off and looked over the two of them again, moving only his eyes and not his head, perhaps debating how much he should explain.

Page 3760

It wasn’t even that far away, either. They’d walked all the way around the perimeter, searching for any gaps and finding none whatsoever. They’d climbed all the way up most of the buildings as well, looking down on the city from the rooftops for better vantage points.

They’d even tried flying up into the sky, but there was a barrier up there, too. It seemed to be a translucent dome over Ridgemark’s entire downtown area.

Naturally, Zeff had also tried attacking the buildings, too. With his materialization, knocking them down should have been a simple feat, and yet they were entirely unmoved by anything he did, just as the barrier itself was.

Stranger still, they didn’t even get wet. Any lingering water just disappeared on its own, without him needing to dematerialize it.

Quite the concerning little detail, he felt, even if it made no practical difference as of yet. It suggested that his powers were not working entirely as normal in this place.

And so they began yet another search, taking a rather leisurely pace this time, since they had no idea what to be looking for--or if there even was anything to be found.

Remaining attentive was a chore. With no clues or clear plan, Zeff’s mind wanted to wander. To return to his many worldly concerns.

But he could do that during meditations. Sort of. That was muddy, too, honestly, but he wanted to stay present. For now, at least.

And at length, to his and Axiolis’ shared shock, they finally spotted something.

A great beam of white light appeared in the sky, rising up from the ground. It looked like all the other phantom lights, only much larger and brighter. A faint trembling arrived with it, enough for Zeff to feel it in his feet, which was still more than could be said for any of the heavy impact assaults that he had himself conducted on various buildings during their time here.

The giant light did not linger, however. After only a matter of seconds, it was gone, leaving a reddish afterimage in his retinas behind.

No questioning was necessary. They rushed toward its point of origin, which seemed to be a few streets over.

‘Hmm,’ hummed Ax as they moved. ‘That’s unsettling’

‘What do you mean? It’s the first sign of anything being there other than us.’

‘Yes, but I can’t sense it. I can see it but not sense it. And in all my experience, that is not typically a good omen.’

Page 3759

In fact, with each passing hour, he was becoming increasingly convinced that was the case. If anything, he was now looking for evidence that might somehow prove Graves’ innocence. It sure would be nice if someone other than one of the most dangerous men in the world was to blame.

He supposed that the Black Scourge was also suspect, but that wasn’t exactly an improvement. Nor did it track with what little he knew of Gohvis’ motives. Yes, the man had come to him in secret and made negotiations, but those had been an attempt to move all the Rainlords away from Vantalay, not just Zeff.

‘Maybe it was neither of them,’ said Ax as they wandered around the phantom city again, just trying to kill time. ‘Garovel mentioned an experience like this, not so long ago. He, Chergoa, Hector, and Emiliana all became trapped in a pocket dimension during the battle at Dunehall.’

Zeff recalled. ‘Is this how they described their experience? A world full of phantom lights?’

‘No. For them, it was apparently just total darkness. No visual stimuli whatsoever. But it still bears consideration, I think. They ended up trapped because of an accident. Garovel described it as some kind of phenomenon when the Marauder of Calthos’ power clashed with the Shards of the Dry God.’

‘I don’t recall anything like that happening to us before waking up here.’

‘Neither do I, but is it not still possible that some similar phenomenon might be to blame?’

‘Are you sure you’re not just searching for excuses?’

‘Hmph. For whom? Graves? If he is at fault, then so be it. Our kin have overcome greater foes.’

Zeff actually smiled at that, though only just. He appreciated the reaper’s spirit, but he knew it would take a lot more than a winning attitude to fight someone like that.

‘But truly, I am starting to think it might not be him,’ Ax went on. ‘Which could be even worse for us, actually.’

‘Oh? And here I was admiring your optimism.’

‘We have been here for several days now. I worry that the culprit should have revealed themself by this point. Meaning that there may not be one in the first place--and that we’ll have to find our own way out.’

Zeff exhaled. ‘More searching, then.’

‘Indeed.’

They’d already found the outer bound of this realm a couple days ago. It was just a veil of thin light, but it was as impassable as a wall of soul-strengthened diamond.

Page 3758

He began to feel his concentration wavering, his focus lagging. A sign of fatigue. These heightened meditations were tiring. He wanted to keep going, but it was probably time to stop--or to take a break and reassess, at least.

It wasn’t immediate. Pulling himself and Axiolis safely out of the trance required a bit of patience. A gradual awakening back into the real world.

Although, “real” might not have been the most accurate word, at the moment.

As his eyes eased open, and as Axiolis’ soul melted out of his own, Zeff was again reminded of his ethereal surroundings.

The sky was completely dark, though not because it was nighttime. This place had no sun at all, as far as he and Ax had been able to discern. And yet it was not without luminance.

The world itself glowed with a ghostly pale light. Buildings were almost as dark as the sky, but they had flickering outlines to them, highlighting every edge, every corner. The ground, too, was dark, illuminated primarily by lines in the sidewalk and cracks in the pavement.

It had taken a while of frustrated faffing about, but they’d come to the conclusion that this place was actually Ridgemark. Or some shadowy representation of it, perhaps. If they’d been more familiar with the city, maybe it wouldn’t have taken them so long to locate some of its more notable landmarks.

The Ruby 88 Hotel & Casino, for example, was standing not far in the distance as Zeff sat cross-legged on a street corner. By now, they’d also seen the Lucky Llama and the Golden Hierophant, too. They’d gone inside each one multiple times--along with most of the other buildings around here--hoping to find something. Or someone. Or just some trace of life, even.

But to no avail.

This phantasmal world was empty, save only the two of them.

And they still had no idea how they’d ended up in this place, much less how to return. Zeff and Axiolis had both woken up here, and that was the last thing they remembered after being with everyone else at their encampment in the defense of Ridgemark.

Which was doubly odd, of course, because reapers did not sleep, other than when they were seriously wounded.

Or being psychically manipulated, maybe.

By now, the notion had certainly crossed Zeff’s mind that their new friend, the esteemed Field Marshal Graves, might very well be the one responsible for their current predicament.

Page 3757

For example, there was the infamous Theft of the Crown Jewels of Yena Maria. That had caused quite the stir, since the Jewels were supposed to harbor incredible, otherworldly power--power which had supposedly been what allowed the royal family of Yena to solidify their rule some four hundred years prior. Axiolis recalled hearing that such claims were overblown, that the noble Hahl Yena had no genuine need of such trifles, but within five years of the theft, their dynasty collapsed, overthrown by rebels.

And then it was a decade of civil war for that little country. Despite its size, Yena Maria had always been renowned for its incredible riches. Even to this day, that aspect of its reputation was not entirely gone. Doubtless, that played a role in the nation’s decision to join in the fight against Vantalay. If the Vantalayans had actually succeeded in their conquest of Czacoa, Yena Maria probably felt that it would be next.

Such a grim fate was quite unlikely now, though. With Vanderberk out of the picture and Graves seemingly in full control of the entire warfront, Zeff doubted that the hostilities in this region of the world would last for very much longer.

Or at least, he hoped so.

Another possibility for Agam’s secret quest might have involved something closer to Korgum itself. The nation of Azirat, Korgum’s northern neighbor, had struggled with a number of high-profile assassination attempts in the years leading up to the Breaking. Many of those attempts had been successful, too, igniting a long-enduring paranoia for an entire generation of the Azirat citizenry. It grew so bad, in fact, that politicians stopped giving speeches in public entirely.

Famously, it wasn’t until one newly elected President Herman began giving daily speeches from the front porch of his own modest home--without ever getting shot at--that cultural sentiment began to shift away from those fears.

But how might Agam, Bernardino, and Graves haave been involved in such events? Ax could only wonder. Graves mentioned heroism on the part of the other two, but without anything else to go on, it was anyone’s guess.

Zeff wished now that he’d gotten more specifics out of the marshal. If he’d known that he was going to end up isolated from everyone else like this, he would have made it more of a priority to learn as much as he could from the Pale Hawk in the short time he had left.

Bah. Strange thoughts.

Page 3756

And as the two of them continued to dwell on it, they did eventually realize that there was one particularly turbulent time period which might fit the bill.

The Breaking of Korgum.

Or rather, the period leading up to it. The Breaking had been the culmination of several mad years all around the world, and while the Rainlords had not gotten directly caught up in it, the mayhem had still been encompassing enough that many of their kin had gone mysteriously “missing” during it.

That in itself wasn’t such a strange thing, historically speaking. Rainlords had always had a habit of sticking their noses in other people’s business, and one of the mechanisms they used to cope with that problem was to “disappear” for a time so as not to draw attention back to their families.

It hadn’t always worked. And blowback was still a fairly regular occurrence--as were the great campaigns that followed.

After all, when someone decided to strike them, the world needed to know that such actions would not go unanswered. That they would fall upon their enemies with all the fury of a storm. Or else even more enemies would come, after seeing weakness in them.

This had always been their way, ever since the Armans took up the fight against the Lyzakks.

Naturally, it was not perfect. No doubt, many mistakes had been made over the long years of fighting. But despite all the madness their people had endured, they had actually enjoyed more peace.

It certainly didn’t always feel like it, of course. Especially these days. But the homeland of the Armans, the People of the Rain, had far more often been peaceful than not. From a pure numbers perspective, their children had almost always been able to grow up in complete safety.

That was small comfort at the moment, however.

Regardless, the timeline for the Breaking seemed to fit, as far as Axiolis could tell. Bernardino would indeed have been extremely young but still a servant, and Agam would have been powerful but not yet in the prime of his fame. Graves, of course, remained a mystery on that front, but if his current age could be estimated at between two and four hundred years, then he would fit in just fine, as well.

And there were plenty of events leading up to the Breaking that could have involved the three of them in some way. Too many, in fact.

Page 3755

There had always been an understanding between the two of them that some things were simply... private. That they did not need to be shared, much less delved into fully.

Memories of intimacy, for example. When Zeff thought of his late wife, Mariana, there were certainly things there that he did not particularly wish to share with Axiolis. And so of course, there were going to be similar instances for the reaper, who’d lived an almost unfathomably long life. He suspected this was the case for virtually every hyper-capable pairing of reaper and servant in the world.

If Axiolis did not wish to share something with him, then that was perfectly fine and fair, Zeff felt.

Unless there was some other reason for it. Something less personal. Something more troubling.

Zeff couldn’t quite pin down what that might be, though. It was just another vague feeling in his mind. Another muted worry for the ever-increasing pile.

If he allowed such concerns to drive his thinking too much, he knew that he would only drive himself mad. Or. Further mad, perhaps.

He’d reached a peculiar state of mind. This calmness from his meditations. This steadiness. It felt almost artificial in nature. A mask that he was wearing. Trying to fool even himself.

And maybe it was even working a bit? He was a fool, certainly. He’d come to understand that quite clearly by now. So what was wrong with simply... letting it be so? Accepting it? If only a little?

Trapped as he was, what other option did he have? Raging hadn’t accomplished anything thus far. This way, he could think more clearly.

Theoretically, at least. Was it helping with the task of searching through Axiolis’ memories? Of learning yet more about his ancestors? He hoped so, but he wasn’t sure.

Agam Elroy had become a frequent focus again. Knowing of Agam’s connection to Graves and Bernardino Blackburn--of the supposed “quest” that the three of them had once ventured upon together--Zeff had been hoping to uncover some great revelation, but even now, Axiolis had no direct memory of such a thing.

But of course, Agam had lived a very long life--as had Bernardino--and there had been plenty of opportunity for such an adventure to occur without Axiolis’ knowledge. Graves had mentioned “Little Dino Blackburn,” which implied that it would have occurred while Bernardino was still quite young.