A dark serial novel. Set in a modern fantasy world called Eleg. Mature language. Updates every day at noon PST by ~400 words.
Monday, June 30, 2025
Sunday, June 29, 2025
Page 3882
A part of Raul was hoping to venture over to Czacoa and see the truth of things for himself, but that didn’t seem likely to happen. He knew how antsy his brethren were to return to Sair and take the fight to the Abolish bastards occupying their land. That mission had been delayed for so long already.
Indeed, he felt that same yearning himself. Of course he did. As a unified people, they were at their strongest again. In fact, the Rainlords of Sair might have been stronger than they had been in quite a long time, since House Blackburn was no longer being reclusive.
But the Sandlords were still scattered. And they were half of Sair’s strength, historically speaking. Raul could understand why the elders had been hesitant.
Not that it was his place to question their decisions, of course.
His brothers, Adan and Esai, had already arrived at the rally point and were waiting for him. They didn’t have any survivors in tow this time, which further reinforced the notion that their work in this region was largely complete.
From the looks on their faces, however, they had been expecting him to return empty-handed also.
“Bro!” said Esai with wide eyes. “What the heck is all this?!”
Raul let Arumoro be the one to explain as they began the long trek back to the main camp.
Which was an impressive structure, not unlike a fortress, floating atop the flooded lowlands of the Vantalayan coastline.
The majority of the Rainlord party had decided to move up from Ridgemark, with only a small contingent staying behind as operational support for the Ridgemark Private Military Police--and for Ridgemark as a whole.
The RPMP had since undertaken the colossal task of gathering and protecting as many survivors of the floods as they possibly could. Ridgemark had become stuffed with evacuees from all over the region--including other countries.
And even before departing, Raul could feel the sense of uncertainty that had gripped the city. With so much of the countryside destroyed--to the point where even maps might soon need to be redrawn--many people were no doubt questioning what was to become of their lives.
If they were unable to return home and rebuild due to the altered landscape, then where were they to go?
Perhaps Ridgemark’s population was about to skyrocket permanently.
Indeed, he felt that same yearning himself. Of course he did. As a unified people, they were at their strongest again. In fact, the Rainlords of Sair might have been stronger than they had been in quite a long time, since House Blackburn was no longer being reclusive.
But the Sandlords were still scattered. And they were half of Sair’s strength, historically speaking. Raul could understand why the elders had been hesitant.
Not that it was his place to question their decisions, of course.
His brothers, Adan and Esai, had already arrived at the rally point and were waiting for him. They didn’t have any survivors in tow this time, which further reinforced the notion that their work in this region was largely complete.
From the looks on their faces, however, they had been expecting him to return empty-handed also.
“Bro!” said Esai with wide eyes. “What the heck is all this?!”
Raul let Arumoro be the one to explain as they began the long trek back to the main camp.
Which was an impressive structure, not unlike a fortress, floating atop the flooded lowlands of the Vantalayan coastline.
The majority of the Rainlord party had decided to move up from Ridgemark, with only a small contingent staying behind as operational support for the Ridgemark Private Military Police--and for Ridgemark as a whole.
The RPMP had since undertaken the colossal task of gathering and protecting as many survivors of the floods as they possibly could. Ridgemark had become stuffed with evacuees from all over the region--including other countries.
And even before departing, Raul could feel the sense of uncertainty that had gripped the city. With so much of the countryside destroyed--to the point where even maps might soon need to be redrawn--many people were no doubt questioning what was to become of their lives.
If they were unable to return home and rebuild due to the altered landscape, then where were they to go?
Perhaps Ridgemark’s population was about to skyrocket permanently.
Saturday, June 28, 2025
Page 3881
He didn’t know everything. He was still young and inexperienced. He had to keep that in mind, lest the world remind him of it forcefully. He’d been taught all about the hubris of servants, historically. About what a danger it was. He didn’t want to end up as yet another cautionary tale told to future generations of Rainlords.
By the time he made it back to the rally point, the sun was starting to set. Thankfully, Arumoro hadn’t sensed any other souls in need of assistance on the way back. They’d taken a circular path in order to cover new ground--or new water, as it were.
That boded well, at least. When they first started coming out here, they’d scarcely been able to go ten minutes without finding someone else in need of rescue or ferrying. Perhaps things might finally start to normalize again for these poor Vantalayans.
Though, what would that even look like? What did normal even mean for these people? They’d already been in a state of war. Would things just go back to that? It seemed unlikely, given the extent of the devastation around the country, but Raul didn’t want to take anything for granted here.
Perhaps the Vantalayan Armed Forces would see all this tragedy as an opportunity. By all accounts that Raul had heard, they had been losing the war, so maybe they would interpret this as a way to turn the tide back in their favor.
Certainly, the news out of Czacoa had not been good. Supposedly, the entire nation was underwater. Wiped off the map.
Yena Maria and Naos, too.
Those three small nations had all been at war with Vantalay along its eastern coast. If they were really all gone, then that only left Lyste to carry on the fight in the west.
It was hard to believe they were genuinely gone, though. Just like that? Millions of lives in a matter of days?
It couldn’t be true.
There’d been servants over there. Strong ones, too, apparently. Holding back entire armies virtually unaided, including Abolish agents. Surely, they would’ve been able to do something about the waves, no?
Raul recalled hearing about one Harva Zon over in Czacoa. Already being heralded as a national hero. The Blazing Shield, they were calling him.
A guy like that must’ve survived the storm.
But had he been able to save anyone? That was the real question.
By the time he made it back to the rally point, the sun was starting to set. Thankfully, Arumoro hadn’t sensed any other souls in need of assistance on the way back. They’d taken a circular path in order to cover new ground--or new water, as it were.
That boded well, at least. When they first started coming out here, they’d scarcely been able to go ten minutes without finding someone else in need of rescue or ferrying. Perhaps things might finally start to normalize again for these poor Vantalayans.
Though, what would that even look like? What did normal even mean for these people? They’d already been in a state of war. Would things just go back to that? It seemed unlikely, given the extent of the devastation around the country, but Raul didn’t want to take anything for granted here.
Perhaps the Vantalayan Armed Forces would see all this tragedy as an opportunity. By all accounts that Raul had heard, they had been losing the war, so maybe they would interpret this as a way to turn the tide back in their favor.
Certainly, the news out of Czacoa had not been good. Supposedly, the entire nation was underwater. Wiped off the map.
Yena Maria and Naos, too.
Those three small nations had all been at war with Vantalay along its eastern coast. If they were really all gone, then that only left Lyste to carry on the fight in the west.
It was hard to believe they were genuinely gone, though. Just like that? Millions of lives in a matter of days?
It couldn’t be true.
There’d been servants over there. Strong ones, too, apparently. Holding back entire armies virtually unaided, including Abolish agents. Surely, they would’ve been able to do something about the waves, no?
Raul recalled hearing about one Harva Zon over in Czacoa. Already being heralded as a national hero. The Blazing Shield, they were calling him.
A guy like that must’ve survived the storm.
But had he been able to save anyone? That was the real question.
Friday, June 27, 2025
Page 3880
House Blackburn in particular had quite the problem with that man. Parson Miles had once been a close friend to them--and even been the one they consulted about Lord Ibai’s mysterious disposition. At the time, of course, the family hadn’t known anything about aberrations; and rather than helping them through that turbulent experience, the man decided to use that information as a tool to manipulate them.
To coerce them into betraying their Rainlord brethren. To prevent House Blackburn from sending support against the Vanguard during the siege at Rheinhal; and also to send Cousin Melchor to kidnap the Elroy children from Red Lake Castle at the same time.
And Raul had a terrible feeling that there was yet more to it, still. Something not spoken of openly. Something hidden even with the family itself.
He wasn’t sure why he felt that way or where it was coming from. Maybe it was in the way that some of the House’s reapers spoke to one another. Some of the things they weren’t saying. Missing words or sentences. Openings where it felt like something was being left unsaid.
He’d asked Arumoro about it privately, of course. Many times, in fact. But if the reaper knew what it was, then he was doing a good job of pretending otherwise.
Which was an even more unsettling thought.
If even Arumoro felt the need to lie so convincingly, then... it must have been something truly horrific. Too dangerous to even risk burdening Raul with knowledge of, perhaps.
Raul hoped he was just being paranoid. He hated doubting his own family like that.
Eventually, he finished bringing the frozen pods up to the surface. He was hesitant to broach the subject, but as they were heading back, walking on water again with the pods in tow, he decided to ask Arumoro if Parson Miles was among these dormant generals.
‘No, lucky for him,’ the reaper said privately.
Honestly, Raul wasn’t sure what he would do if he ever came face-to-face with the guy. Especially in a vulnerable state like this? Would he just try to kill him in cold blood?
Agh. No, probably not. He’d consult the elders, as always. That was a decision for them to make, not him.
But what if Parson escaped because of his hesitation? The elder’s decision was obvious enough, wasn’t it? Why not just ensure that justice was served as soon as possible?
Because it wasn’t his place, that was why.
To coerce them into betraying their Rainlord brethren. To prevent House Blackburn from sending support against the Vanguard during the siege at Rheinhal; and also to send Cousin Melchor to kidnap the Elroy children from Red Lake Castle at the same time.
And Raul had a terrible feeling that there was yet more to it, still. Something not spoken of openly. Something hidden even with the family itself.
He wasn’t sure why he felt that way or where it was coming from. Maybe it was in the way that some of the House’s reapers spoke to one another. Some of the things they weren’t saying. Missing words or sentences. Openings where it felt like something was being left unsaid.
He’d asked Arumoro about it privately, of course. Many times, in fact. But if the reaper knew what it was, then he was doing a good job of pretending otherwise.
Which was an even more unsettling thought.
If even Arumoro felt the need to lie so convincingly, then... it must have been something truly horrific. Too dangerous to even risk burdening Raul with knowledge of, perhaps.
Raul hoped he was just being paranoid. He hated doubting his own family like that.
Eventually, he finished bringing the frozen pods up to the surface. He was hesitant to broach the subject, but as they were heading back, walking on water again with the pods in tow, he decided to ask Arumoro if Parson Miles was among these dormant generals.
‘No, lucky for him,’ the reaper said privately.
Honestly, Raul wasn’t sure what he would do if he ever came face-to-face with the guy. Especially in a vulnerable state like this? Would he just try to kill him in cold blood?
Agh. No, probably not. He’d consult the elders, as always. That was a decision for them to make, not him.
But what if Parson escaped because of his hesitation? The elder’s decision was obvious enough, wasn’t it? Why not just ensure that justice was served as soon as possible?
Because it wasn’t his place, that was why.
Wednesday, June 25, 2025
Tuesday, June 24, 2025
Page 3879
Raul was certainly familiar with those names. The weight behind them was more than enough to make him uneasy, but he tried to just focus on the task at hand.
‘I can’t tell if their reapers are in there with them,’ said Arumoro, ‘but if they aren’t, then that would be especially confusing.’
‘What do you mean?’ said Raul as he breached the surface with the frozen Vernon. He lined the icy pod with increased friction, wanting it to stay put right there instead of sinking back down or floating away.
‘Well, perhaps this is wrong of me to assume, but this ice seems like it may well be the work of Iceheart, considering it was apparently powerful enough to imprison all of these strong fellows. In which case, it’s strange that the reapers would be nowhere around. Presumably, Iceheart would only resort to a tactic like this for their own good, trying to protect them and help them escape.’
‘So maybe it was someone else’s doing then,’ said Raul, having already finished swimming back down. He started pulling the next pod through the opening. ‘Plenty of powerful servants can manipulate temperature. Anyone with pan-rozum, right?’
‘That’s what I mean. If this wasn’t the work of an ally to save them, then it must have been the work of an enemy. So where is that enemy now? How could they have lost track of such high-priority hostages?’
‘Well, there WAS just a world-changing storm that took place...’
‘Indeed. And these men seem to be harboring some quite horrific wounds in there.’
Really? Raul couldn’t tell through the ice. He could barely make out their humanoid body shapes. Though, now that the reaper was mentioning it... yeah, perhaps there were some limbs missing here and there.
‘I get the feeling that these fellows were at the heart of the madness,’ said Aru. ‘I’m sure they will have some interesting stories to tell when they wake up.’
‘If their reapers aren’t in there with them, then they might not be waking up anytime soon.’
‘Verily so. And I am not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed by that.’
Raul understood the reaper’s meaning. The united Rainlords of Sair were not exactly the biggest fans of the Vanguard, at the moment. While Raul didn’t know how the elders were feeling about things, he’d still heard plenty of loose talk going around, recently.
Particularly about a certain captain general by the name of Parson Miles.
‘I can’t tell if their reapers are in there with them,’ said Arumoro, ‘but if they aren’t, then that would be especially confusing.’
‘What do you mean?’ said Raul as he breached the surface with the frozen Vernon. He lined the icy pod with increased friction, wanting it to stay put right there instead of sinking back down or floating away.
‘Well, perhaps this is wrong of me to assume, but this ice seems like it may well be the work of Iceheart, considering it was apparently powerful enough to imprison all of these strong fellows. In which case, it’s strange that the reapers would be nowhere around. Presumably, Iceheart would only resort to a tactic like this for their own good, trying to protect them and help them escape.’
‘So maybe it was someone else’s doing then,’ said Raul, having already finished swimming back down. He started pulling the next pod through the opening. ‘Plenty of powerful servants can manipulate temperature. Anyone with pan-rozum, right?’
‘That’s what I mean. If this wasn’t the work of an ally to save them, then it must have been the work of an enemy. So where is that enemy now? How could they have lost track of such high-priority hostages?’
‘Well, there WAS just a world-changing storm that took place...’
‘Indeed. And these men seem to be harboring some quite horrific wounds in there.’
Really? Raul couldn’t tell through the ice. He could barely make out their humanoid body shapes. Though, now that the reaper was mentioning it... yeah, perhaps there were some limbs missing here and there.
‘I get the feeling that these fellows were at the heart of the madness,’ said Aru. ‘I’m sure they will have some interesting stories to tell when they wake up.’
‘If their reapers aren’t in there with them, then they might not be waking up anytime soon.’
‘Verily so. And I am not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed by that.’
Raul understood the reaper’s meaning. The united Rainlords of Sair were not exactly the biggest fans of the Vanguard, at the moment. While Raul didn’t know how the elders were feeling about things, he’d still heard plenty of loose talk going around, recently.
Particularly about a certain captain general by the name of Parson Miles.
Monday, June 23, 2025
Page 3878
It was slow going. This ice--or whatever it was--didn’t want to make things easy on him. Even after trying to apply a bit more intensity with his friction, there was no difference. Just more chips flying off.
That was fine. He kept at it. His body turned numb as it suffocated, and he had to make sure to pause for more heat generation every couple of minutes. The only real danger here was the cold getting to his brain. As long as he accounted for that, then it was just a matter of time before he got through.
And eventually, he did. The iceberg finally cracked apart enough to reveal its hollow contents, if only a little. He still couldn’t see inside, however, because water immediately began rushing through the opening. Hopefully, that wouldn’t be a problem for whoever was in there, but he figured if they could survive such extremely temperatures, then they could also survive getting a bit wet.
When he punched through fully, the hollowed-out berg was nearly full of water--and sinking, too, rendering it quite dark. He had to rely on Arumoro’s again.
‘Can you sense things more clearly now?’ asked Raul.
‘I can,’ said Arumoro. ‘There are multiple souls inside, but they’re coated in more of this ice. Like frozen pods. Their soul signatures are tough to make out, but I feel like maybe I’ve...’
When the reaper didn’t complete the sentence, Raul paused. He was gripping the hole in the iceberg and trying to swim upward, but it wasn’t going very well. ‘Maybe you’ve, what?’
‘...Those are Vanguardians in there,’ said Aru. ‘Powerful ones, too. Famous.’
Oh, boy.
Raul gave up trying to pull the berg to the surface, though not because of what he’d just learned. Their identities certainly complicated things, but that was for the elders to worry about, not him. Right now, these people still needed rescuing.
He dove into the iceberg and began pulling directly on the ice pods, as Aru had described them. He relied on more heat generation, trying to help his numb fingers sink into the ice and grip it.
Didn’t work terribly well, but he still managed to wrap his arms around one of the pods and pull it through the opening that he’d created.
Arumoro didn’t stop talking the whole time.
‘My word. It’s an entire collection of generals. Kehl, Jules, Wes. I think that’s Vernon in your hands, right now.’
That was fine. He kept at it. His body turned numb as it suffocated, and he had to make sure to pause for more heat generation every couple of minutes. The only real danger here was the cold getting to his brain. As long as he accounted for that, then it was just a matter of time before he got through.
And eventually, he did. The iceberg finally cracked apart enough to reveal its hollow contents, if only a little. He still couldn’t see inside, however, because water immediately began rushing through the opening. Hopefully, that wouldn’t be a problem for whoever was in there, but he figured if they could survive such extremely temperatures, then they could also survive getting a bit wet.
When he punched through fully, the hollowed-out berg was nearly full of water--and sinking, too, rendering it quite dark. He had to rely on Arumoro’s again.
‘Can you sense things more clearly now?’ asked Raul.
‘I can,’ said Arumoro. ‘There are multiple souls inside, but they’re coated in more of this ice. Like frozen pods. Their soul signatures are tough to make out, but I feel like maybe I’ve...’
When the reaper didn’t complete the sentence, Raul paused. He was gripping the hole in the iceberg and trying to swim upward, but it wasn’t going very well. ‘Maybe you’ve, what?’
‘...Those are Vanguardians in there,’ said Aru. ‘Powerful ones, too. Famous.’
Oh, boy.
Raul gave up trying to pull the berg to the surface, though not because of what he’d just learned. Their identities certainly complicated things, but that was for the elders to worry about, not him. Right now, these people still needed rescuing.
He dove into the iceberg and began pulling directly on the ice pods, as Aru had described them. He relied on more heat generation, trying to help his numb fingers sink into the ice and grip it.
Didn’t work terribly well, but he still managed to wrap his arms around one of the pods and pull it through the opening that he’d created.
Arumoro didn’t stop talking the whole time.
‘My word. It’s an entire collection of generals. Kehl, Jules, Wes. I think that’s Vernon in your hands, right now.’
Sunday, June 22, 2025
Saturday, June 21, 2025
Page 3877
He had to get up close and touch it. Whatever the material was, he needed to inspect it directly. His power might be able to solve this without heat.
And indeed, he found that it got even colder as he drew nearer. If it wasn’t ice, then it was certainly frozen, at least.
‘Are you numbing my pain, right now?’ asked Raul.
‘Yes. Why?’
‘Stop. I need to feel it.’
‘Mm? Are you sure?’
‘I am.’
‘Very well.’
Raul waited a moment. He felt no change, which was informative in its own way. Now he had to make sure all this cold hadn’t numbed him, too, so he rubbed his hands together even harder than before, trying to generate enough heat for it to start hurting.
It didn’t take long.
Alright. That was confirmation enough. He stopped rubbing his hands again.
Now for the real test.
If this frozen egg was deadly to the touch, then his pain receptors would be his best warning sign. If he’d risked touching it while he was already numbed, then there was a chance that he could end up freezing himself solid before he even realized what was happening. Then he would be the one in need of rescue here.
And so, finally, he touched the sunken iceberg directly.
Pain shot through his hand immediately, and he recoiled back.
Ow. Okay. That was actually a good sign, even if it didn’t feel like it. Now he had a better idea of the threat level here--and most importantly, it actually seemed manageable. If his hand had been instantly frozen, skipping over the pain stage entirely, then he would’ve needed to retreat and come back with help.
But this? He could handle this.
Hopefully.
He set to work. With a wide swipe of his hand, he sent a wave of slicing friction through the hulking berg. He tried to keep it superficial, not cutting deep, since there was almost certainly someone inside. He just wanted to crack the egg open, not burst it apart.
It resisted him, though. A few chips came off, but that was all. And his hand, having made direct contact again, was left stinging once more.
He was running out of air, too, but that could be ignored. This seemed like it might take a while, and he didn’t want to bother swimming back up to the surface just to get some fresh air. His body would perish and go numb on its own, but oh well. He’d learned enough from the pain already.
And indeed, he found that it got even colder as he drew nearer. If it wasn’t ice, then it was certainly frozen, at least.
‘Are you numbing my pain, right now?’ asked Raul.
‘Yes. Why?’
‘Stop. I need to feel it.’
‘Mm? Are you sure?’
‘I am.’
‘Very well.’
Raul waited a moment. He felt no change, which was informative in its own way. Now he had to make sure all this cold hadn’t numbed him, too, so he rubbed his hands together even harder than before, trying to generate enough heat for it to start hurting.
It didn’t take long.
Alright. That was confirmation enough. He stopped rubbing his hands again.
Now for the real test.
If this frozen egg was deadly to the touch, then his pain receptors would be his best warning sign. If he’d risked touching it while he was already numbed, then there was a chance that he could end up freezing himself solid before he even realized what was happening. Then he would be the one in need of rescue here.
And so, finally, he touched the sunken iceberg directly.
Pain shot through his hand immediately, and he recoiled back.
Ow. Okay. That was actually a good sign, even if it didn’t feel like it. Now he had a better idea of the threat level here--and most importantly, it actually seemed manageable. If his hand had been instantly frozen, skipping over the pain stage entirely, then he would’ve needed to retreat and come back with help.
But this? He could handle this.
Hopefully.
He set to work. With a wide swipe of his hand, he sent a wave of slicing friction through the hulking berg. He tried to keep it superficial, not cutting deep, since there was almost certainly someone inside. He just wanted to crack the egg open, not burst it apart.
It resisted him, though. A few chips came off, but that was all. And his hand, having made direct contact again, was left stinging once more.
He was running out of air, too, but that could be ignored. This seemed like it might take a while, and he didn’t want to bother swimming back up to the surface just to get some fresh air. His body would perish and go numb on its own, but oh well. He’d learned enough from the pain already.
Friday, June 20, 2025
Page 3876
What in the world was that? Raul had never seen anything like it. Even as he swam closer, he was still having trouble figuring it out.
‘Careful,’ came Arumoro’s silent warning. Even underwater like this, the reaper’s ethereal avian form was still flapping its wings as if flying. ‘This entire thing is filled with soul power. I’m not sure what to make of it, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s the work of a servant.’
‘In that case, you should be the one being careful,’ said Raul, still swimming. ‘Get behind me.’
The reaper paused but didn’t argue. Then he flew over and attached himself to Raul’s right shoulder.
Damn, it was cold down here. He’d braced himself when diving in, but even still, he hadn’t expected it to be this intense.
In fact--
Wait.
Was it getting even colder as he moved nearer? Dangerous, if so. He should address that problem before his brain began to go numb.
‘Aru, give me some strength.’
The reaper obliged, and Raul felt the familiar vigor course through his body.
He summoned his concentration and smacked his hands together, pulling on all of the undead strength that he could muster. This was going to be extra difficult underwater, so he couldn’t hold back.
He rubbed his palms together as hard as he could. With a bit of soul-strengthening to make his skin more resilient, the heightened friction began to generate plenty of extra heat.
It felt good in this piercing cold. It was enough warm up the front of his body almost immediately, and he decided to keep it going while he reevaluated the situation.
Cold, huh?
Could that giant egg actually be made of ice?
But no, ice was less dense than water, so it would’ve been floating on the surface of the lake, surely.
Hmm. Unless its density had been manipulated, he supposed. Such as by a powerful materialization user.
Ah, but the only one who could materialize ice was Lord Zeff. In the whole world, only the Water Dragon of Sair could create that particular molecule.
Well, except maybe--
Raul’s hands stopped, and his eyes widened.
No, no. He was being stupid. Any materializer could manipulate temperature. Plenty of them could create frozen versions of their element. So this probably wasn’t actually ice. Not pure ice, anyway.
Yeah. Yeah, of course. And that meant he should be extra careful when tampering with it, too. If it was a highly reactive element, then he might accidentally cause it to explode if he pushed a sudden wave of heat into it, especially when its temperature was already so low.
Hmm. What to do, then?
‘Careful,’ came Arumoro’s silent warning. Even underwater like this, the reaper’s ethereal avian form was still flapping its wings as if flying. ‘This entire thing is filled with soul power. I’m not sure what to make of it, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s the work of a servant.’
‘In that case, you should be the one being careful,’ said Raul, still swimming. ‘Get behind me.’
The reaper paused but didn’t argue. Then he flew over and attached himself to Raul’s right shoulder.
Damn, it was cold down here. He’d braced himself when diving in, but even still, he hadn’t expected it to be this intense.
In fact--
Wait.
Was it getting even colder as he moved nearer? Dangerous, if so. He should address that problem before his brain began to go numb.
‘Aru, give me some strength.’
The reaper obliged, and Raul felt the familiar vigor course through his body.
He summoned his concentration and smacked his hands together, pulling on all of the undead strength that he could muster. This was going to be extra difficult underwater, so he couldn’t hold back.
He rubbed his palms together as hard as he could. With a bit of soul-strengthening to make his skin more resilient, the heightened friction began to generate plenty of extra heat.
It felt good in this piercing cold. It was enough warm up the front of his body almost immediately, and he decided to keep it going while he reevaluated the situation.
Cold, huh?
Could that giant egg actually be made of ice?
But no, ice was less dense than water, so it would’ve been floating on the surface of the lake, surely.
Hmm. Unless its density had been manipulated, he supposed. Such as by a powerful materialization user.
Ah, but the only one who could materialize ice was Lord Zeff. In the whole world, only the Water Dragon of Sair could create that particular molecule.
Well, except maybe--
Raul’s hands stopped, and his eyes widened.
No, no. He was being stupid. Any materializer could manipulate temperature. Plenty of them could create frozen versions of their element. So this probably wasn’t actually ice. Not pure ice, anyway.
Yeah. Yeah, of course. And that meant he should be extra careful when tampering with it, too. If it was a highly reactive element, then he might accidentally cause it to explode if he pushed a sudden wave of heat into it, especially when its temperature was already so low.
Hmm. What to do, then?
Thursday, June 19, 2025
Page 3875
Without knowing better, Raul would never have thought that there was anyone out here in need of rescuing. To the naked eye, this immense waterscape looked entirely empty.
But Arumoro sensed someone, apparently, and Raul knew better than to question the reaper’s senses. So he kept going, full sprint, for as long as Arumoro told him to.
Increasingly, he was certain that he could go even faster than this. With his friction power, it had to be possible. He was already able to achieve a speed greater than most boats, but if he could just figure out how to strike the perfect ratio of resistance between the soles of his shoes and this delicate watery surface, then he had a feeling that he could start to truly fly across this lake.
The difficulty was balance. Too little friction would just make his feet slip out from under him. He had to maintain enough bodily control so as not to fall on his ass. He’d never been ice skating before, but he imagined it must’ve felt something like this.
‘Slow down,’ came Arumoro’s echoing voice. ‘It’s close.’
Raul increased the friction and eased himself down to a walk. His eyes were scanning the horizon in all directions, looking for whoever it was that was in need of help. ‘Where are they?’ he said.
‘I’m... not entirely sure,’ said Arumoro.
‘What? Why?’
‘The presence is... odd. It feels like it’s... all over the place. Below us, too. And very... distorted, somehow. I can’t explain it well.’
Below? Raul looked down, peering into the clear water, though he didn’t quite understand how that could be the case. Anyone down there would’ve surely drowned by now, no? Unless it was a servant, perhaps, but a servant would not be in need of rescuing.
After a few moments, however, he did catch a glimpse of something. A glint. A shimmer. Far down.
He crouched for a closer look, but it didn’t help much. ‘Do you see that?’ he asked.
‘Hmm.’ Arumoro phased through the water.
“Whoa, hey! Hold on there!”
The reaper did not listen.
Dammit.
Raul released his fiction entirely and allowed himself to sink below the waves. He gave chase.
Arumoro was not waiting up for him. Raul was not a very good swimmer, but his ability helped him again, and soon enough, he caught up.
And he was not prepared for what he saw.
Some kind of great, shimmering egg. Or cocoon, perhaps? The size of a bus.
But Arumoro sensed someone, apparently, and Raul knew better than to question the reaper’s senses. So he kept going, full sprint, for as long as Arumoro told him to.
Increasingly, he was certain that he could go even faster than this. With his friction power, it had to be possible. He was already able to achieve a speed greater than most boats, but if he could just figure out how to strike the perfect ratio of resistance between the soles of his shoes and this delicate watery surface, then he had a feeling that he could start to truly fly across this lake.
The difficulty was balance. Too little friction would just make his feet slip out from under him. He had to maintain enough bodily control so as not to fall on his ass. He’d never been ice skating before, but he imagined it must’ve felt something like this.
‘Slow down,’ came Arumoro’s echoing voice. ‘It’s close.’
Raul increased the friction and eased himself down to a walk. His eyes were scanning the horizon in all directions, looking for whoever it was that was in need of help. ‘Where are they?’ he said.
‘I’m... not entirely sure,’ said Arumoro.
‘What? Why?’
‘The presence is... odd. It feels like it’s... all over the place. Below us, too. And very... distorted, somehow. I can’t explain it well.’
Below? Raul looked down, peering into the clear water, though he didn’t quite understand how that could be the case. Anyone down there would’ve surely drowned by now, no? Unless it was a servant, perhaps, but a servant would not be in need of rescuing.
After a few moments, however, he did catch a glimpse of something. A glint. A shimmer. Far down.
He crouched for a closer look, but it didn’t help much. ‘Do you see that?’ he asked.
‘Hmm.’ Arumoro phased through the water.
“Whoa, hey! Hold on there!”
The reaper did not listen.
Dammit.
Raul released his fiction entirely and allowed himself to sink below the waves. He gave chase.
Arumoro was not waiting up for him. Raul was not a very good swimmer, but his ability helped him again, and soon enough, he caught up.
And he was not prepared for what he saw.
Some kind of great, shimmering egg. Or cocoon, perhaps? The size of a bus.
Sunday, June 15, 2025
Saturday, June 14, 2025
Page 3874
Word was that the Lord Elroy had struck some sort of bargain with Daro Bright, the mysterious Black Artisan, in order to help him finally track down his kids and recover them. There was speculation that, despite only just reappearing, he would soon disappear again for that purpose.
Which was a strange worry, Raul thought. Surely, for such a quest, Lord Zeff would ask at least a few strong warriors to accompany him, no? Surely, he would not simply up and vanish like that a second time. Supposedly, the first time had not even been of his own volition.
But it was all a mess. No one seemed to be sure of anything. And with how busy all the reapers were--as well as himself, of course--Raul doubted that things would become clear for a while yet.
For the time being, at least, he was content enough with conducting rescue operations alongside his two brothers. It had come as something of a surprise to all three of them just how useful their power was during this disaster. They’d never used it in quite this way before, which might’ve seemed a bit odd, considering they’d grown up in the land of forever rain, where flooding was also a constant factor.
But actually, flooding hadn’t been so common for them throughout their childhood. Unlike the rest of Sair, the region around Luzo, wherein the fortress of Marshrock resided, almost never flooded properly. Instead, it simply stayed perpetually muddy--which was dangerous in its own right, of course, but still different.
Here and now, this was the first time that Raul and his brothers had ever attempted to walk on water. It was definitely more difficult than walking on mud, requiring intense concentration, but once Raul got the hang of it, he wasn’t walking for long.
He was running. Sprinting across the mirror-like surface of a vast lake. Hardly making the water splash or ripple with each step.
Apparently, there used to be a town here, though it certainly wasn’t obvious now. With how blue and clean the water was, it was tough to imagine anything else. Typically, with floods, there were at least signs of debris left behind, along with a murky brown color from all the displaced earth.
But here? There was none of that. It just looked like an isolated inlet from the Luthic Ocean now. Calm and quiet. Almost no waves at all.
Which was a strange worry, Raul thought. Surely, for such a quest, Lord Zeff would ask at least a few strong warriors to accompany him, no? Surely, he would not simply up and vanish like that a second time. Supposedly, the first time had not even been of his own volition.
But it was all a mess. No one seemed to be sure of anything. And with how busy all the reapers were--as well as himself, of course--Raul doubted that things would become clear for a while yet.
For the time being, at least, he was content enough with conducting rescue operations alongside his two brothers. It had come as something of a surprise to all three of them just how useful their power was during this disaster. They’d never used it in quite this way before, which might’ve seemed a bit odd, considering they’d grown up in the land of forever rain, where flooding was also a constant factor.
But actually, flooding hadn’t been so common for them throughout their childhood. Unlike the rest of Sair, the region around Luzo, wherein the fortress of Marshrock resided, almost never flooded properly. Instead, it simply stayed perpetually muddy--which was dangerous in its own right, of course, but still different.
Here and now, this was the first time that Raul and his brothers had ever attempted to walk on water. It was definitely more difficult than walking on mud, requiring intense concentration, but once Raul got the hang of it, he wasn’t walking for long.
He was running. Sprinting across the mirror-like surface of a vast lake. Hardly making the water splash or ripple with each step.
Apparently, there used to be a town here, though it certainly wasn’t obvious now. With how blue and clean the water was, it was tough to imagine anything else. Typically, with floods, there were at least signs of debris left behind, along with a murky brown color from all the displaced earth.
But here? There was none of that. It just looked like an isolated inlet from the Luthic Ocean now. Calm and quiet. Almost no waves at all.
Friday, June 13, 2025
Page 3873
Much as the man might protest otherwise, there was obviously something special about him. Whether that thing was divine in nature or not... well, perhaps that was just a matter of interpretation. Of perspective.
Arumoro, at least, was of the opinion that divinity was not such a simplistic concept.
‘It is a matter of degrees,’ the reaper had once told him, a couple years ago, when Raul had asked him about the nature of the so-called “divine power” of water materialization. ‘I believe the divine spark exists within every human soul that has ever lived. Perhaps even in the souls of lower animals, too, though I am less certain of that.’
‘What?’ Rual had said. ‘You think we all have the potential to be the Water Dragon?’
‘No, no, no. Of course not. But I do think that the divinity we all embody can be exemplified in individuals like the Water Dragon. Our collective spirit, as a unified people, coalesces and manifests. Perhaps with the power of Lhutwë, as the old stories say--or perhaps as a purely natural consequence of our own, deeply held connections to one another.’
‘Huh...’
‘Truthfully, I have always misliked the idea that all of our power and identity as a people comes solely from Lhutwë. And I know I’m not the only one to feel that way, either. I’m sure that has been a major contributing factor as to why so many of us have become more secular or even atheistic in recent centuries. But for me, at least, I think we have always had a deep relationship with divinity, Lhutwë or not. And there is still room for a shared spiritual connection between all of us, especially with our ancestors.’
And even after all this time, Raul still wasn’t sure how he felt about all that. He found the reaper’s position interesting, but did he actually believe it himself? Difficult to say.
Yet he was finding himself thinking about it more and more, of late. Perhaps the reaper had been onto something. He almost wanted to take Arumoro over to Zeff and have the reaper say as much to the man’s face.
If only the Lord Elroy wasn’t so damn intimidating.
And busy, as well. Now didn’t really seem like the appropriate time to be bothering him with trivialities.
Especially with all the new rumors and gossip floating around about him and his scattered children.
Arumoro, at least, was of the opinion that divinity was not such a simplistic concept.
‘It is a matter of degrees,’ the reaper had once told him, a couple years ago, when Raul had asked him about the nature of the so-called “divine power” of water materialization. ‘I believe the divine spark exists within every human soul that has ever lived. Perhaps even in the souls of lower animals, too, though I am less certain of that.’
‘What?’ Rual had said. ‘You think we all have the potential to be the Water Dragon?’
‘No, no, no. Of course not. But I do think that the divinity we all embody can be exemplified in individuals like the Water Dragon. Our collective spirit, as a unified people, coalesces and manifests. Perhaps with the power of Lhutwë, as the old stories say--or perhaps as a purely natural consequence of our own, deeply held connections to one another.’
‘Huh...’
‘Truthfully, I have always misliked the idea that all of our power and identity as a people comes solely from Lhutwë. And I know I’m not the only one to feel that way, either. I’m sure that has been a major contributing factor as to why so many of us have become more secular or even atheistic in recent centuries. But for me, at least, I think we have always had a deep relationship with divinity, Lhutwë or not. And there is still room for a shared spiritual connection between all of us, especially with our ancestors.’
And even after all this time, Raul still wasn’t sure how he felt about all that. He found the reaper’s position interesting, but did he actually believe it himself? Difficult to say.
Yet he was finding himself thinking about it more and more, of late. Perhaps the reaper had been onto something. He almost wanted to take Arumoro over to Zeff and have the reaper say as much to the man’s face.
If only the Lord Elroy wasn’t so damn intimidating.
And busy, as well. Now didn’t really seem like the appropriate time to be bothering him with trivialities.
Especially with all the new rumors and gossip floating around about him and his scattered children.
Thursday, June 12, 2025
Wednesday, June 11, 2025
Page 3872
So he concentrated. Focused. It wasn’t quick or easy, but he kept at it. Until he finally began to feel normal again. Like an actual, thinking person again.
He found it most helpful to look to his elders for an example of how to conduct himself.
Certainly, the return of the Lord Zeff Elroy was most welcome. The man’s absence had been sorely felt, even if it had not been for very long, in the grand scheme of things.
Raul recalled the rampant speculation that spread through their ranks as a result of the man’s disappearance. Such worry and confusion. Yet another wrinkle in things, after everyone had only just reunited. There’d even been talk of it being some kind of ill omen. Perhaps a warning from Lhutwë himself. A warning of imminent punishment, some said.
If the Water God’s chosen one had been taken away, then perhaps it was to spare him alone from Lhutwë’s impending wrath.
Raul had never bought into that line of thinking, thankfully. But it hadn’t exactly been a comfort, either.
And then, of course, the waves began to hit.
One might be forgiven for mistaking that madness as indeed the wrath of the Water God.
Lakefire. Even now, with the benefit of hindsight, a part of him still felt like maybe it had been.
If Lord Zeff had not reappeared in the middle of all that mayhem, then Raul might be genuinely thinking that way now. And he would not have been alone in doing so, either.
Once the waves had settled and the man caught wind of the ideas going around about divine punishment, Lord Zeff had been incensed. He had not hesitated in striking them down loudly and frequently.
“That is nothing but foolishness spread in the grip of fear!” the man had said on multiple different occasions, each in front of a crowd of dozens. “If it were true, then I would not be here now! I would not have been able to return to you! Listen to me! It is times like these when, above all else, we must hold ourselves together! Keep each other upright! The rain fears not the torch!”
Raul appreciated those words immensely. And he knew he was not alone in that sentiment, either.
Yet he also couldn’t help wondering if those words might, in some way, be having an opposite effect to what the Lord Elroy had been aiming for.
After all, the Water Dragon of Sair could certainly roar, now couldn’t he?
He found it most helpful to look to his elders for an example of how to conduct himself.
Certainly, the return of the Lord Zeff Elroy was most welcome. The man’s absence had been sorely felt, even if it had not been for very long, in the grand scheme of things.
Raul recalled the rampant speculation that spread through their ranks as a result of the man’s disappearance. Such worry and confusion. Yet another wrinkle in things, after everyone had only just reunited. There’d even been talk of it being some kind of ill omen. Perhaps a warning from Lhutwë himself. A warning of imminent punishment, some said.
If the Water God’s chosen one had been taken away, then perhaps it was to spare him alone from Lhutwë’s impending wrath.
Raul had never bought into that line of thinking, thankfully. But it hadn’t exactly been a comfort, either.
And then, of course, the waves began to hit.
One might be forgiven for mistaking that madness as indeed the wrath of the Water God.
Lakefire. Even now, with the benefit of hindsight, a part of him still felt like maybe it had been.
If Lord Zeff had not reappeared in the middle of all that mayhem, then Raul might be genuinely thinking that way now. And he would not have been alone in doing so, either.
Once the waves had settled and the man caught wind of the ideas going around about divine punishment, Lord Zeff had been incensed. He had not hesitated in striking them down loudly and frequently.
“That is nothing but foolishness spread in the grip of fear!” the man had said on multiple different occasions, each in front of a crowd of dozens. “If it were true, then I would not be here now! I would not have been able to return to you! Listen to me! It is times like these when, above all else, we must hold ourselves together! Keep each other upright! The rain fears not the torch!”
Raul appreciated those words immensely. And he knew he was not alone in that sentiment, either.
Yet he also couldn’t help wondering if those words might, in some way, be having an opposite effect to what the Lord Elroy had been aiming for.
After all, the Water Dragon of Sair could certainly roar, now couldn’t he?
Tuesday, June 10, 2025
Next page tomorrow at noon PST
Thanks, everybody. For being so smoking hot all the time. And for reading, too, I guess.
Monday, June 9, 2025
Page 3871
Even Ridgemark, which had the great fortune of being built upon a tremendous cliff, had not been completely spared. Many small townships along its outskirts had been flooded. But the city proper was fine, at least, and had become a place of refuge for evacuees from all over the region. The Ridgemark Private Military Police had done their duty well--a fact which had only become clearer as Raul toured the rest of the countryside with his brethren, searching for survivors.
The fighting, of course, had come to a rather abrupt end. It had already been winding down, but when those gargantuan waves started hitting, nothing else seemed to matter, anymore.
And they’d just kept coming, too. It had been unbelievable to witness in real time. Even just one wave had been bad enough, but when the second arrived, and the third, and the fourth, and more--Raul didn’t think he’d ever felt so scared before.
For a while there, it had genuinely seemed like the world might be ending. Drowned in an impossibly huge flood. Something out of a mythic tale.
When the waves finally began to diminish, Raul was left numb. A mindless drone, just doing as he was told by his elders. What else was there to do? Rational thinking couldn’t help him wrap his head around what had happened. It was all too much. If not for Arumoro’s guidance, he might well have just curled up in a ball and been rendered useless to everyone around him.
And he wasn’t the only one, either. He could see it in the non-servants, especially. The muted shock on their faces. The inability to process what had happened.
The news certainly didn’t help, either. The revelation that this wasn’t all just some freak storm, isolated to Vantalay--that instead, it had actually happened across the entirety of the Luthic and shaken the whole world...?
How was a normal person supposed to cope with that?
If anything, that might have been what finally pulled him out of his own stupefaction. The sight of them all, feeling so obviously powerless, doing all they could to not be paralyzed by fear.
He needed to get himself together. There was plenty of work that needed doing, and going through it like some kind of puppet being controlled by Arumoro wasn’t making things easier for anyone--other than himself, maybe.
But that was selfish. When he knew that he could be doing more, that was selfish.
The fighting, of course, had come to a rather abrupt end. It had already been winding down, but when those gargantuan waves started hitting, nothing else seemed to matter, anymore.
And they’d just kept coming, too. It had been unbelievable to witness in real time. Even just one wave had been bad enough, but when the second arrived, and the third, and the fourth, and more--Raul didn’t think he’d ever felt so scared before.
For a while there, it had genuinely seemed like the world might be ending. Drowned in an impossibly huge flood. Something out of a mythic tale.
When the waves finally began to diminish, Raul was left numb. A mindless drone, just doing as he was told by his elders. What else was there to do? Rational thinking couldn’t help him wrap his head around what had happened. It was all too much. If not for Arumoro’s guidance, he might well have just curled up in a ball and been rendered useless to everyone around him.
And he wasn’t the only one, either. He could see it in the non-servants, especially. The muted shock on their faces. The inability to process what had happened.
The news certainly didn’t help, either. The revelation that this wasn’t all just some freak storm, isolated to Vantalay--that instead, it had actually happened across the entirety of the Luthic and shaken the whole world...?
How was a normal person supposed to cope with that?
If anything, that might have been what finally pulled him out of his own stupefaction. The sight of them all, feeling so obviously powerless, doing all they could to not be paralyzed by fear.
He needed to get himself together. There was plenty of work that needed doing, and going through it like some kind of puppet being controlled by Arumoro wasn’t making things easier for anyone--other than himself, maybe.
But that was selfish. When he knew that he could be doing more, that was selfish.
Sunday, June 8, 2025
Page 3870 -- CCCXIII.
That seemed like a pretty good counterpoint, Hector thought, but Garovel wasn’t done, either.
‘Be that as it may,’ said the reaper, ‘the essence of why the Sandlords don’t worship Azai anymore remains unaffected. The core ideas that she promulgated and made central to Lyzakki culture are still utterly repugnant. Such as the Aglazaiya. Among other things, it minimized the role of honest work like agriculture--which, apparently, she herself introduced to them--and made it so that seizing wealth via martial might was regarded as a more noble and higher-status pursuit. That doctrine, alone, was enough to turn the Lyzakki culture into a force for great suffering and evil in the world. And worship for her was at the heart of it.’
“A fair point. You are more knowledgeable about the subject than I expected. Perhaps even more so than myself, in some respect, hmm? Perhaps you have some personal experience there?”
Garovel made no response.
Caster moved on. “In any case, I will not make the claim that Azai was faultless with her ideology. I am only saying that there is... room for interpretation. On both sides. As I said, I can understand why the Void came to the conclusions that he ultimately did. But perhaps it is also not as black-and-white as you are thinking. The subject of ‘abuse of power’ is one that requires considerable context and nuance in order to judge correctly, no?”
The guy was leaving an opening for Hector to answer. He didn’t necessarily disagree with what the man was saying, but this was also a lot of words without much in the way of clarification. When it came to a subject with such potentially heavy consequences for the future, Hector didn’t want to let him weasel out of talking about it in more detail.
How to articulate that, though? Hmm.
“...Anyway,” said Caster, apparently attempting to move on, “have I answered to your satisfaction?”
“No.” And Hector was getting the distinct impression that this conversation was going to last for a quite while longer yet.
Chapter Three Hundred Thirteen: ‘Where the dark stream meets the ocean...’
Click to display entire chapter at once -- (mobile link)
Raul Blackburn had never seen such devastation. In his young life, this was certainly a new milestone. One he doubted he would ever forget.
The Vantalayan coastline had changed completely. Beaches, gone. Forests, swept away. Entire towns, wiped off the map.
‘Be that as it may,’ said the reaper, ‘the essence of why the Sandlords don’t worship Azai anymore remains unaffected. The core ideas that she promulgated and made central to Lyzakki culture are still utterly repugnant. Such as the Aglazaiya. Among other things, it minimized the role of honest work like agriculture--which, apparently, she herself introduced to them--and made it so that seizing wealth via martial might was regarded as a more noble and higher-status pursuit. That doctrine, alone, was enough to turn the Lyzakki culture into a force for great suffering and evil in the world. And worship for her was at the heart of it.’
“A fair point. You are more knowledgeable about the subject than I expected. Perhaps even more so than myself, in some respect, hmm? Perhaps you have some personal experience there?”
Garovel made no response.
Caster moved on. “In any case, I will not make the claim that Azai was faultless with her ideology. I am only saying that there is... room for interpretation. On both sides. As I said, I can understand why the Void came to the conclusions that he ultimately did. But perhaps it is also not as black-and-white as you are thinking. The subject of ‘abuse of power’ is one that requires considerable context and nuance in order to judge correctly, no?”
The guy was leaving an opening for Hector to answer. He didn’t necessarily disagree with what the man was saying, but this was also a lot of words without much in the way of clarification. When it came to a subject with such potentially heavy consequences for the future, Hector didn’t want to let him weasel out of talking about it in more detail.
How to articulate that, though? Hmm.
“...Anyway,” said Caster, apparently attempting to move on, “have I answered to your satisfaction?”
“No.” And Hector was getting the distinct impression that this conversation was going to last for a quite while longer yet.
Chapter Three Hundred Thirteen: ‘Where the dark stream meets the ocean...’
Click to display entire chapter at once -- (mobile link)
Raul Blackburn had never seen such devastation. In his young life, this was certainly a new milestone. One he doubted he would ever forget.
The Vantalayan coastline had changed completely. Beaches, gone. Forests, swept away. Entire towns, wiped off the map.
Thursday, June 5, 2025
Wednesday, June 4, 2025
Page 3869
Before continuing, Caster took another pause, either for dramatic effect or simply because he was considering what next to say. “With her leading the way, they began to strike back at those who had been subjugating them for generations. They even learned to cross the sea, both to the north and to the east, where they took the fight to the heartlands of their oppressors. And they conquered them. Absorbed them into their growing horde.”
‘Hence the “Reputation” part of her moniker,’ said Garovel.
“Indeed. You are familiar with the tales of her, no doubt. Perhaps that explanation was unnecessary, but my point was that she built them up from nothing. Granted them a way out of their misery. To my mind, that was not an abuse of power on her part, but perhaps to the Void, it was. Perhaps he thought that she ultimately created more misery than she averted. Unfortunately, these things--like the Void’s mind--are unknowable.”
Hmm. That was a lot to chew on. Hector decided to consult Garovel. ‘What do you think?’
‘You know I have little love for the Lyzakks,’ the reaper said privately. ‘And there’s good reason for that. They were barbaric monsters, even by the low moral standards of the Second Age. If the tales of Azai really are true like this guy is saying they are, then that means she’s to blame for... all of that. Countless millions, slaughtered and enslaved.’
Well, shit.
Garovel didn’t bother keeping his next words to himself. ‘You say these things are unknowable, but is that truly so? The amount of suffering that was spread by the Lyzakki sword was almost unfathomable. If she was real and not just a mythical figurehead used for political gain by religious leaders, then it is difficult for me to imagine how her intervention could possibly be considered a “net positive,” no matter how creative you want to be with your interpretation of events.’
“Ah, but much of the suffering you are referring to actually happened after the Void rent us all asunder. You see? With her no longer there to guide them, what did this barbaric horde do? It went wild. Of course it did. And I do not know if Azai can rightly be faulted for that--and even if she can be, then the Void deserves just as much admonishment, in my estimation.”
‘Hence the “Reputation” part of her moniker,’ said Garovel.
“Indeed. You are familiar with the tales of her, no doubt. Perhaps that explanation was unnecessary, but my point was that she built them up from nothing. Granted them a way out of their misery. To my mind, that was not an abuse of power on her part, but perhaps to the Void, it was. Perhaps he thought that she ultimately created more misery than she averted. Unfortunately, these things--like the Void’s mind--are unknowable.”
Hmm. That was a lot to chew on. Hector decided to consult Garovel. ‘What do you think?’
‘You know I have little love for the Lyzakks,’ the reaper said privately. ‘And there’s good reason for that. They were barbaric monsters, even by the low moral standards of the Second Age. If the tales of Azai really are true like this guy is saying they are, then that means she’s to blame for... all of that. Countless millions, slaughtered and enslaved.’
Well, shit.
Garovel didn’t bother keeping his next words to himself. ‘You say these things are unknowable, but is that truly so? The amount of suffering that was spread by the Lyzakki sword was almost unfathomable. If she was real and not just a mythical figurehead used for political gain by religious leaders, then it is difficult for me to imagine how her intervention could possibly be considered a “net positive,” no matter how creative you want to be with your interpretation of events.’
“Ah, but much of the suffering you are referring to actually happened after the Void rent us all asunder. You see? With her no longer there to guide them, what did this barbaric horde do? It went wild. Of course it did. And I do not know if Azai can rightly be faulted for that--and even if she can be, then the Void deserves just as much admonishment, in my estimation.”
Tuesday, June 3, 2025
Page 3868
“Aha. You are quite knowledgeable, then. I’m a bit surprised the Sandlords shared that with you. Last I knew, they had all but disavowed her.”
It wasn’t quite Hector’s first time hearing of her, but the man did have a point. Despite how well Hector had gotten to know the Sandlords lately, he had barely heard Azai’s name mentioned. Compared to the Rainlords and Lhutwë, the difference was notable. The Rainlords didn’t appear to be avid believers, either--apart from Axiolis and a few others--but at least they still talked about him a fair amount.
In fact, there was even a certain degree of fondness that Hector detected when they did so. Like they were wishing for a simpler time, when they were all more unified and devout.
Not terribly surprising, given all they’d suffered through, of late.
Azai, though. Hector had been meaning to learn more about her. Perhaps now was a good opportunity, but he apparently should’ve just asked Garovel. He might’ve grown a bit reluctant to ask the reaper about anything regarding religion or “gods,” but now that he was thinking about it again in a background thought process, it seemed obvious that Garovel would know all about her, given his Lyzakki heritage.
Not that Garovel was going to bring that up in front of Caster here. Hector would’ve been shocked if he did. Instead, the reaper merely remained silent and let the Marauder continue.
“There was once a time when the Sandlords, as you know them today, were called the Lyzakks. I’m certain you know that much, at least. But before they were Lyzakks, they were just a disparate assortment of nomadic tribes. They were as poor a people as you could possibly imagine. Living in squalor. Battling the elements constantly. Barely surviving. Being preyed upon by powerful kingdoms who viewed them as nothing more than godless savages. Which, in fairness, was not entirely inaccurate.
“Then came along Azai, who took pity upon them. As the Goddess of Sand, she granted to them a great desert and taught them its secrets. Not just how to survive in it but how to thrive. How to use it to their advantage against their adversaries. How to build structures that would endure. How to conduct agriculture in the harsh environment. How to become settlers. And soon enough, they began coming together as one people, a grand unification of tribes under her guidance.”
It wasn’t quite Hector’s first time hearing of her, but the man did have a point. Despite how well Hector had gotten to know the Sandlords lately, he had barely heard Azai’s name mentioned. Compared to the Rainlords and Lhutwë, the difference was notable. The Rainlords didn’t appear to be avid believers, either--apart from Axiolis and a few others--but at least they still talked about him a fair amount.
In fact, there was even a certain degree of fondness that Hector detected when they did so. Like they were wishing for a simpler time, when they were all more unified and devout.
Not terribly surprising, given all they’d suffered through, of late.
Azai, though. Hector had been meaning to learn more about her. Perhaps now was a good opportunity, but he apparently should’ve just asked Garovel. He might’ve grown a bit reluctant to ask the reaper about anything regarding religion or “gods,” but now that he was thinking about it again in a background thought process, it seemed obvious that Garovel would know all about her, given his Lyzakki heritage.
Not that Garovel was going to bring that up in front of Caster here. Hector would’ve been shocked if he did. Instead, the reaper merely remained silent and let the Marauder continue.
“There was once a time when the Sandlords, as you know them today, were called the Lyzakks. I’m certain you know that much, at least. But before they were Lyzakks, they were just a disparate assortment of nomadic tribes. They were as poor a people as you could possibly imagine. Living in squalor. Battling the elements constantly. Barely surviving. Being preyed upon by powerful kingdoms who viewed them as nothing more than godless savages. Which, in fairness, was not entirely inaccurate.
“Then came along Azai, who took pity upon them. As the Goddess of Sand, she granted to them a great desert and taught them its secrets. Not just how to survive in it but how to thrive. How to use it to their advantage against their adversaries. How to build structures that would endure. How to conduct agriculture in the harsh environment. How to become settlers. And soon enough, they began coming together as one people, a grand unification of tribes under her guidance.”
Monday, June 2, 2025
Page 3867
More memories from the Candle were tickling the back of his mind, wanting his attention, and yet, somehow, Hector could already tell that there wasn’t much of substance there. Rumors and mentions of the name. People hypothesizing. But nothing concrete. Nothing like this meeting here, right now, with Zirat.
Garovel took the opening in the conversation to interject again. ‘You and the Void are enemies, then?’
At that, Zirat actually took a long pause. His gaze drifted toward the ground, and he clicked his tongue. Or Caster did.
Agh, this was confusing.
“...As much as I wish for it not to be so,” said Caster, “yes. I do not think I can formulate an argument wherein the Void might be considered our ally.”
‘So the tales about him rending you from existence...?’
“Ah. Largely true, yes. And I say ‘largely’ only because I’ve heard a few that grew to be quite outlandish.”
‘Why did he do it?’ said Garovel. ‘It’s said that he used to be one of you. That he had quite a warm relationship with all of you, even.’
“A good question,” said Caster. “He was always an enigma among enigmas. Truly, only he would be able to tell you what he was thinking--and even that might be debatable.”
That sounded like bullshit, too, Hector felt.
And perhaps Caster could read that feeling in his aura, because after a moment, he kept going. “...However, I believe he thought that we were abusing our power over this world.”
Hector saw the opportunity and took it. “Were you?”
A heavy silence arrived.
Hector just waited, though. Calm. Attentive. How were you going to answer, Primordial?
“...Perhaps,” said Caster.
“Or perhaps not?” said Hector.
Caster chortled. “Just so, yes.”
“I’m afraid that’s not good enough this time,” said Hector. “Answer clearly and honestly, please. Were you guys abusing your power back in those days?”
Caster sighed. “Let me put it this way: I do not think we were abusing our power, but I can also understand why he thought that we were.”
Hmm. Still not enough. “Why do you say that?” said Hector. “Give me an example.”
“Hmph. Quite disagreeable, aren’t you? Fine.” He paused for a moment, apparently thinking. “Ah. Here’s one that should feel quite relevant. You are familiar with Azai, I assume?”
‘Of course,’ said Garovel. ‘Goddess of Sand.’
“Do you know her other two titles?” said Caster.
‘Reputation and Thirst.’
Garovel took the opening in the conversation to interject again. ‘You and the Void are enemies, then?’
At that, Zirat actually took a long pause. His gaze drifted toward the ground, and he clicked his tongue. Or Caster did.
Agh, this was confusing.
“...As much as I wish for it not to be so,” said Caster, “yes. I do not think I can formulate an argument wherein the Void might be considered our ally.”
‘So the tales about him rending you from existence...?’
“Ah. Largely true, yes. And I say ‘largely’ only because I’ve heard a few that grew to be quite outlandish.”
‘Why did he do it?’ said Garovel. ‘It’s said that he used to be one of you. That he had quite a warm relationship with all of you, even.’
“A good question,” said Caster. “He was always an enigma among enigmas. Truly, only he would be able to tell you what he was thinking--and even that might be debatable.”
That sounded like bullshit, too, Hector felt.
And perhaps Caster could read that feeling in his aura, because after a moment, he kept going. “...However, I believe he thought that we were abusing our power over this world.”
Hector saw the opportunity and took it. “Were you?”
A heavy silence arrived.
Hector just waited, though. Calm. Attentive. How were you going to answer, Primordial?
“...Perhaps,” said Caster.
“Or perhaps not?” said Hector.
Caster chortled. “Just so, yes.”
“I’m afraid that’s not good enough this time,” said Hector. “Answer clearly and honestly, please. Were you guys abusing your power back in those days?”
Caster sighed. “Let me put it this way: I do not think we were abusing our power, but I can also understand why he thought that we were.”
Hmm. Still not enough. “Why do you say that?” said Hector. “Give me an example.”
“Hmph. Quite disagreeable, aren’t you? Fine.” He paused for a moment, apparently thinking. “Ah. Here’s one that should feel quite relevant. You are familiar with Azai, I assume?”
‘Of course,’ said Garovel. ‘Goddess of Sand.’
“Do you know her other two titles?” said Caster.
‘Reputation and Thirst.’
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