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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 become 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 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 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 of this place.’

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 as impassable as a wall of soul-strengthened diamond.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.