Page 4013

Jonah was determined to fight him. That much was painfully obvious. No matter what arguments Germal tried, no matter how much knowledge he shared--how much wisdom--Jonah just became more and more convinced that “Ettol” had fully consumed his soul.

Why? It was so senseless. Was it because he hadn’t internalized a new name for himself like his kin often did? Didn’t become reborn as a new “Gerttal” or “Emol” or some other hybrid?

That meant nothing. Ettol’s vessels simply never needed that, nor did Ettol himself. His vessels always had some kind of irregularity in their identity which made such a process pointless.

Jonah couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Germal genuinely, with full understanding, agreed to the merging of their two souls. There was no need for a new name, because their new, singular soul was perfectly comfortable with both. Ettol, Germal. He didn’t mind swapping between them.

In fact, he enjoyed it. Did it for fun, if he was being honest.

Germal had always been like that. Didn’t Jonah remember? The games they played when they were children? Even the name Germal had not been original. It was the name they found in an old book.

The name of the hero that Jonah had fantasized about one day becoming.

Had all that been forgotten? Or maybe Jonah thought that, too, was a lie. An implanted memory, meant to trick him. Yet another of Ettol’s endless deceptions.

Ever that excuse.

Ettol didn’t know how to argue against that. How could he possibly reason with someone who’d become so entrenched in their distrust of him?

Agh. Was there truly no way? He was this so-called ‘God of Deceit,’ wasn’t he? And yet he couldn’t even deceive the stray voice in his head.

Hmph. Prodding him again, Jonah? At least you were getting subtler about it.

By the time he finally reached the little fortress atop the highest hill, it was nearing sunset. He could’ve moved faster, of course, but there was no rush. He’d have to wait for the others to arrive, regardless.

Koh followed behind him, silent as a shadow, if not for the occasional puff on his cigar.

It was interesting how much of a liking the old fellow had taken to tobacco. Germal hadn’t expected that experiment to work at all, much less that effectively. Perhaps the wolf’s mind was more malleable than he’d realized. Or perhaps his powers had grown.

Or perhaps Koh just would’ve liked cigars, regardless.