Page 4028

"Who are you?" said Ettol, knowing it would almost certainly go unanswered.

The stranger stepped closer. "You're not feeling well, are you?"

Ettol grabbed his forehead. "No. I know who you are, don't I? But your name--it's being--agh..."

There was no pain, but that was not a good thing, he knew. Because there should have been. Something important was missing. He could sense it. Something very important was missing from his memory.

Jonah. No. Not just Jonah. Others, as well. Someone had helped him.

The parasites? They knew about Jonah? Had made contact with him? When?

The stranger's hand was on Ettol's shoulder now.

Ettol wanted to rip it from the other man's arm. To attack and then flee as fast as he possibly could.

But his body wouldn't even move. And a foreign calm had come over him. Pressing down on his mind. His thoughts. Settling his concerns. His questions.

His impulses.

Telling him that everything was fine. There was nothing to worry about. Just like the man in front of him was doing.

"It's okay," said the stranger. "Relax. You're perfectly safe with me."

Every fiber of his being was rejecting those words.

No one did this to Ettol. Ettol did this to others. This was not allowable. Not proper or acceptable.

So why couldn't he break free, then?

Because he was still too young, of course. This incarnation, too weak.

And because of Jonah.

Always Jonah.

Undermining his every effort. Constantly.

He'd been too soft, hadn't he? Too sympathetic. Granted Jonah too much influence.

Jonah had grown stronger than he realized. Enough to conceal things from him. To manipulate his memories in return.

Kehe.

Didn't feel good, did it? Having a taste of your own medicine? There'd been a time when Jonah had thought that maybe Ettol could still change for the better--that perhaps seeing what it was like to be manipulated would alter his perspective of doing such things to others.

But no. Jonah knew better by now.

Ettol would not learn from this experience. He would only grow angry and spiteful. Which was obviously going to be a problem, of course.

But there was nothing for it, unfortunately. Jonah intended to make Ettol show his true colors, no matter what. This fight could never be won, otherwise.

Ah.

That was better. Back in control again. That was right. Just relax, Ettol. This meeting wasn't for you.

"Sermung," said Jonah.

And the other man blinked at him. "Aha... there you are, Jonah. You had me worried."

Next page on the 22nd

Thanks for your patience, everybody.

Page 4027

"Hah. No. But as I mentioned, I am rather busy, at the moment. Perhaps we could pick this up another time."

"Oh, I'm sure we will. But I am curious about who you are meeting."

"I am surprised you do not already know. I was getting the impression that you had already been observing me for some time."

"Not at all. I merely found a door and gave it a knock. You are the one who decided to answer."

Ettol wondered how much he should trust those words. His instinct told him not to be, but then, these Oathbearers were quite simple-minded, weren't they? Lacking guile in the extreme. Often outright incapable of lying, due to their chosen covenant.

And this one... well, he did seem a little different, truth be told, but not overly so.

Which was beginning to render Ettol bored. While, yes, Oathbearers were indeed his favorite opponents, that was only when there was an actual fight to be had; and this did not appear to be that--nor had he lied when he'd said that he was not in the mood for one.

Just another overly simplistic distraction when he had more important matters to be worrying about. If this man wanted--

Wait a minute.

Something wasn't right here.

If this was a mere Oathbearer, then how had he rejected the psychic marker at the beginning of their conversation?

He'd nearly forgotten about that. How? Psychic manipulation?

That would be the traditional explanation, but no... it couldn't be that. If there was one thing Ettol had confidence in, it was matters of mental manipulation and psychic influence. Just by being in the same room, he would be able to tell if this person in front of him harbored such abilities.

And yet still, he sensed nothing. Sure, Oathbearers could be otherwise completely normal human beings, but then how did he reject the marker?

...Moreover, when had it even been confirmed that he was an Oathbearer?

Hadn't Ettol just been worried that the man might have been faking? Where had that concern disappeared to? Jonah? Agh, maybe. But even if so, might that also mean Jonah knew something of this man that he did not?

Impossible...

Unconsciously, Ettol took a step back.

There was more than just something wrong here, he realized. All of a sudden, nothing seemed right.

"Easy now," said the stranger in a voice that was admittedly quite soothing. "Don't get skittish on me. I'm not going to hurt you."

Page 4026

"I will have to take your word on that," said Ettol. "To give up so much freedom for a whiff of extra power is not something I could ever abide or even condone. Truly, you have my pity, sir."

"That is one way of looking at it, I suppose. Another is that the only true freedom to be had comes from mastery of one's own circumstances and view. From an understanding that limitation makes way for imagination."

"Spoken like a pawn of the most obedient nature."

"If you think an attack on my pride will make any headway, then you will be sorely disappointed. That is the language of your kind, friend. Which I find increasingly ironic, the more I think about it."

"Ironic, is it? And how is that? You wrap yourself in chains, yet think me the slave here?"

"Always talking of freedom, but you have no qualms taking it from others, do you? If you really believed what you claim, then you would have left this realm in peace Ages ago. Left us to our own devices."

"Oh? 'Us,' you say? You count yourself among them, Oathbearer?"

"Of course I do."

"Now that is the real farce here, surely. Does that not count as a breach of your covenant?"

"If it did, we would both know so immediately."

"Heh. A fair point, I suppose."

Another period of silence arrived.

In that exchange, Ettol had learned even more than he'd wanted to about this person. Memories of so many encounters were coming to mind involuntarily now, making him relive countless fights and arguments with the most ancient enemy of his kin. Even if he'd never met this one before, they were all the same, in the end.

What an awful day it had turned out to be.

He'd been hoping against hope that, during his most recent imprisonment, they had finally all been eradicated--or at least chased away from this realm--but that was clearly not the case.

"...So is it to be a fight, then?" said Ettol. "Because to be quite frank with you, sir, I am not much in the mood."

The stranger's smile returned. "Nor am I. Even if we are of differing views, that does not mean we must make war, does it?"

"History would suggest otherwise."

"Indeed. But the future remains full of possibility."

Ettol had to suppress his own irritation. "Why did you seek me out? For the philosophical debate?"

"Would it be so terrible if I said yes?"

Page 4025

The other man smiled warmly, but he said nothing. Instead, his gaze fell upon Koh, who was lying down in the corner of the room, head resting on his front paws.

A long moment transpired as Ettol continued waiting, unsure what to try next.

He hated being on the back foot like this, not knowing who he was dealing with. What a mistake, answering that knock so cordially. Perhaps he shouldn't have been so eager to re-initiate contact with his brethren. The timing hadn't exactly been ideal, either.

Careful, he told himself. Careful and steady.

He decided to reassess the situation. Might this time actually prove advantageous? Damian and Parson were set to arrive any minute now--could they be useful here? If this stranger was an adversary--as he increasingly seemed to be--then it would certainly be better not to face him alone.

But how to explain the stranger's presence? An elaborate fiction might be needed. Ettol disliked resorting to those, as they tended to cause future complications, but if there was no other way, then--

"I've a question for you," said the stranger.

"Yes?"

"Have you seen a man with a large scar over his right eye?" He pointed to his own eye.

Ettol's gaze twitched. "You are in search of such a man?"

"Among other things, yes. Have you seen him?"

"I'm afraid not, though I've met many with similar scars. Perhaps you could tell me his name?"

"Oh, he would have left quite an impression, I'm sure. If you'd met him, I doubt you would mistake him for someone else, even with that meager description."

Avoidance. Again. It was no coincidence, Ettol felt.

"...Are you an Oathbearer?" said Ettol.

The stranger made no response.

All but confirmation, as far as Ettol was concerned. But still, he should be wary of an elaborate ruse. Oathbearers were some of his favorite opponents from the First Age. So full of pride, yet so easily undone.

That was why this could be a ploy. A trick to put him at ease. To make him stop being cautious.

Only someone extremely knowledgeable of the ancient world would be able to pull off such a thing, though.

Hmm.

"You have my sympathy, if so," Ettol went on. "It cannot be easy, living a life of constant repression."

"We all do it, in one way or another," said the stranger. "It is just a matter of understanding the bounds of one's own inner compass. Done properly, the 'repression,' as you put it, is hardly even felt."

Next page at 6 pm

Thanks for reading, everyone.

Page 4024

What in the world was that?

Psychic feedback?

No... even in this low-powered state, Ettol could still guard himself against that tactic, for the most part. Not to mention, being the victim of malicious feedback was excruciatingly painful, while this hadn't hurt at all.

Instead, he'd only felt that windy pulse. Briefly disorienting, perhaps, but painless.

What did that mean? Was this a fellow wielder of the Windlight? Somehow, Ettol did not think so. Surely, a fellow wielder would be more easily recognizable than this.

The stranger was remaining quiet, he noticed. Not pressing for information. Not demanding anything. Just standing there, blankly.

"...Why have you come?" said Ettol.

"Why did you accept me in?" said the stranger.

Hmph. "I enjoy meeting new people."

"Or perhaps you were expecting someone else? Someone more familiar to you?"

"Someone like who?"

"One of your fellow visitors," said the man.

And Ettol paused. Something in the way he'd said that made the Gentleman of Palei hesitate. There was no obvious malice in it, nor had this stranger made any hostile movements towards him thus far.

And yet...

Visitors, were they? That choice of word felt particularly loaded. It indicated not just a rare piece of knowledge about him and his kin, but also an opinion about said knowledge.

An opinion that Ettol had not often found very warm or welcoming in the long history of his incarnations.

Perhaps his next words were Germal's influence, because he decided, for once, to be more direct. "Do you consider me your enemy, stranger?"

"Should I?"

"Certainly not. But it would also help me to answer that question more exhaustively if you told me who you were."

"Well, I wouldn't want you to exhaust yourself."

"Heh. Kind of you to worry, but I am tougher than I look."

"I'm sure you are."

"A name is all I am requesting. Is that so much to ask?"

"Not at all. But lying would be a hassle. And hypocritical, perhaps."

"A lie by omission is still a lie, no? Or so people keep telling me."

"Then it is a good thing that omission and refusal are not the same thing."

Yes, this opponent was quite experienced, indeed. There was no telling how much he already knew of Ettol and his kin.

"...Very well, then," said Ettol. "It is obvious enough that you want something from me. If you would tell me what you are looking for, then perhaps I might help you find it."

Page 4023

The one who stepped forth, however, was not someone whom he immediately recognized. An entirely unfamiliar face.

That much was not uncommon, of course. His kin acquired new faces with each incarnation.

What was uncommon was for him to still have no clue who he was looking at. His kin were not just their faces, after all. And the process of rebirth was one of his great areas of expertise. Typically, he could still piece together who it was by sensing familiar traces in their soul, aura, and thought patterns.

New, yet familiar--that was how he usually found them.

But instead, this person was entirely strange to him. And Ettol found himself instantly unsettled, as well.

Was it a brand new soul, perhaps? One he'd simply never met before? On its first visit from beyond the Veil?

No, there was something more here... or something missing, rather. Ettol couldn't sense this person's soul or aura at all. Not their patterns of thought, either.

It was like a blank page standing in front of him.

It almost reminded him of their so-called father. But not quite. Ettol was never going to forget what he was like, nor did he ever expect to see another incarnation of him again.

Silence fell over the room as the new arrival laid eyes upon Ettol, looking him up and down while saying nothing.

Ettol was reluctant to speak first, though he did not precisely know why. This stranger--it almost felt like speaking first would give away a vital advantage, somehow.

Who was this man? Why had he made contact all of a sudden?

And why did he look so plain?

Such basic attire. White shirt with gray pants. Brown hair, brown eyes, average height, average build, average features. Not even a whiff of guile or attentiveness in his gaze. Like he was hardly even present--both physically and mentally.

At length, Ettol's discomfort grew too terrible, and he was compelled to get the conversation started. "I'm sorry, but I do not have long. I'm expecting company. It is a pleasure to meet you, but if there is something you wish to talk to me about, then please, make it be known now."

The stranger took his time responding. "Don't mind me. Go ahead and conduct your meeting."

Ettol had to consciously stop himself from squinting. "Might you honor me with your name, cedo?"

But rather than getting an answer with words, Ettol instead felt a sudden gust of wind wash over him.

And through him, too.

As if the words he'd just spoken had been rejected and thrown right back into his face. Right back into his very head, even.

"Do not do that, please," said the stranger. "I mislike being marked."

Next page on the 14th

Sorry, guys. Need some more time. Thanks for reading, as always.

Page 4022

There had to be something here, though. Disturbances did not occur without cause, even if it was a naturally occurring one. Might there be some sudden outgrowth of this place's geographic resonance? Ardor often behaved that way when connected to a deep reserve. Rather than flowing and gradually building, it typically pooled together in one place until it spiked up abruptly or even exploded into new strength.

That was how many of these places were born, after all: from great spikes of ardor located deep within the planet itself.

But still. That was unlikely to be the explanation here. With such coincidental timing? While he just so happened to be visiting for the first time in years?

Was someone else here? Or... about to be, perhaps?

He exerted more influence with his soul, expanding his domain further outward, beyond the room's walls. It weakened the domain itself, of course, having to spread his power out more thinly over a wider area, but it also allowed him to detect disturbances at a greater range. This way, perhaps he could sense a pattern. A flow.

Ah. There on his right. Through the window. There was a winding path. Growing more intense as he focused on it--but not to the point of bursting. It wasn't trying to be invasive.

Now he understood. It was a knock. Someone asking for an invitation into his domain. How long had that been following him? It could have been years, just waiting for him to exert a large enough domain for him to sense its presence.

Waiting for him to grow powerful enough, in other words.

He still couldn't sense who it was, though. Either they were hiding their identity from him, or he was still quite lacking in otherworldly strength.

Another thing to worry about. The regrowth of their power was often non-linear. Some incarnations grew very quickly--assimilated efficiently and easily, perhaps even achieving previously untouched heights--while others were slow and stubborn, resisting growth at every turn.

Damn you, Jonah.

Well, regardless, he wasn't about to refuse the invite. It could be this incarnation's first real encounter with one of his kin. Ettol was only too eager to catch up, after all these years.

The disturbance grew and grew, until it was an almost visible tunnel. Its connection to his mind was so strong that he could nearly see it with his physical eyes.

Impressive. A path that powerful could have reached the other side of Eleg, for all he knew.

Next page on the 11th

Thanks for reading, everyone. In the meantime, here's a joke for you.

I finally graduated from clown school after taking night classes for years. During the daytime, I made ends meet by working as a carnival performer. I'm so proud of myself, but man, it was really difficult learning how to juggle so much at once.

I also had to perform as a tight rope acrobat at some truly dangerous heights. No safety nets to catch me. More exciting for the audience, they said. That was tough, too. I really had to find the right work-life-balance.

Page 4021

The update continued for a while longer. There was much to go over, and Ettol doubted that he would get around to everything, but it was still worth a try. He would have started even earlier, but this invigorating period wasn't likely to last for more than a few hours.

But then again... Hmm. Perhaps if he could establish a large enough domain around himself, Nerovoy's condition might remain stable for longer. He didn't know if he was yet strong enough to maintain such a technique, nor did have any recent practice with it, but he supposed it was at least worth a shot.

It would be a problem if the meeting dragged on--which was quite likely to happen, considering how many years of catching up there was to be done.

Yes.

He decided to give it a try, pulling on the Windlight again. Not making a demand. Asking gently for its assistance.

It responded eagerly, and he merged it with the force of his mind to establish an aerial bubble around himself. That was the first step. Next was to focus on its outer layer--a kind of psychic film--so that he could empower it with his soul.

And finally, he needed to let the Windlight fill in the rest of the space. An invisible balloon, of sorts, growing to be about as large as the room itself. As long as Nerovoy stayed within it, the reaper would theoretically stop regressing.

But it was still primitive. Others might be able to sense its presence when they passed through it. Adding an aspect of stealth to it was probably still beyond him, at this point. Making such an attempt would be a needless risk to its structural integrity when he could instead merely tell the others that he was practicing a new technique.

And that wouldn't even be a lie.

Perfect.

Now he just had to get comfortable and finish waiting.

At length, however, he was beginning to grow impatient. Those two jackasses were certainly taking their sweet time, weren't they? Eyeing his watch, he realized that it was nearly the agreed upon hour.

Why did they never bother to arrive even a little bit early? One would think that they would have eventually learned from his example after all these years.

But then again, he supposed their predictability was also a big part of what he liked about them. It certainly made his life--

A disturbance in his domain.

Germal looked around but didn't see anyone other than Nerovoy.

Page 4020

“In any event,” Ettol went on, “we’re about to meet with Parson and Damian again.”

The reaper’s petals tilted. ‘Already? We just met a couple months ago. What need would there be to make contact again so soon.’

Ettol’s jaw clenched. He had no choice here. “No,” he said with an added layer of psychic force. “It has been several years since our last meeting. This is important. Remember?”

Nerovoy remained perfectly still for a moment. ‘Yes. Several years. Of course.’

There was always going to be a risk of the reaper saying something strange or nonsensical in front of the others. It had already happened before. Ettol wanted to have more caution this time, but truthfully, there was only so much that could be done. Reapers and their old relationships always provided a difficult wrinkle in these sorts of strategies. There was an ever-present threat that Feromas or Overra would notice that something was too strange with Nerovoy’s behavior.

Ettol had certainly done his best, though. He’d spent considerable time in pan-wzrost in the lead up to this meeting, just combing over the reaper’s memories of the relationship between the three of them.

It helped that they weren’t nearly as old as some reapers. If they’d all known each other for several thousands of years, then any attempt at deception here probably would have failed already.

And they might be more knowledgeable of him and his brethren, as well.

It was a rare thing to find a truly old reaper who either didn’t know of them or hadn’t already had their memories adjusted.

Unless, of course, if one were to visit some of those enclaves. There were plenty of long-sheltered reapers souls in those places.

Here and now, though, he still needed to refine the reaper’s sense of the present. There was quite obviously a problem of lost time at play, so he should focus on stamping that out--or at least making it not so obvious.

“We have been traveling these past few years,” said Ettol, again with force. “Keeping updated on the state of the world.”

‘Yes,’ said Nerovoy. ‘We love to travel. And our work is important.’

“That’s right. We’re envoys and liaisons. We’ve just about had a breakthrough, haven’t we? Towards the greater goal.”

‘Yes. We’ve been working for so long on that.’

“Soon, we’ll be able to start our own sect within Abolish.”

‘It will be glorious.’

“And we will use it well.”

Page 4019

Ettol snapped control back. “Ah. Sorry. Just another joke that didn’t land. I didn’t mean anything bad by it.”

‘Heh. You do love those, don’t you? When will you learn that you’re not a comedian?’

“I’ve still got time to improve, don’t I?”

‘I never should have let you attend that experimental comedy festival ten years ago. This is never going to end now, is it?’

It was actually more like twenty years ago, but Ettol wasn’t about to correct him. He merely returned a smile as he silently reassessed the reaper’s condition.

No obvious cracks in the lamina of the soul. No leakage. Good. But what about the inner structure?

That was more difficult to examine without alerting the reaper, but Ettol had been growing more powerful. Perhaps it was okay to push a little harder this time. And if he was ever going to repair the reaper fully, this would need to become trivial for him.

The reaper was talking again, but Ettol was hardly listening.

He knew what he was looking for, at least. The filament. The thin, unreal wire on which hung the nucleus--or the mind, in other words--of a reaper’s soul.

The problem was that the filament was so small and evasive. Unlike the filament of a light bulb, for example, this one could move and even hide when it sensed an observer. They always seemed to dislike being noticed, and it was the main reason why many reapers became abruptly nervous in the presence of people such as himself.

And unfortunately, today was still not an exception.

‘You’re doing it again,’ said Nerovoy. ‘Stop that.’

Naturally, unlike the average reaper, this one had plenty of experience dealing with him and so already knew precisely where this “inexplicable anxiety” was coming from.

“Sorry,” said Ettol, easing back from his psychic plunge. For a moment, he considering trying to explain, in the hope that the reaper might understand that he was only trying to perform what was akin to a medical examination on him. But he decided against it. Down that road lay too many impossible questions.

And questions from his mortal loved ones were often how things started to go awry. With the benefit of hindsight, looking back on all his incarnations, that was typically where things began to spiral out of control.

More than anything, he didn’t want that to happen again. Not this time.

Page 4018

He didn’t need much for this. Just a taste. The temptation to imbibe more was always present, but he controlled himself, of course. Those who didn’t respect their Light were not long in keeping it.

Ah. There. A glimpse of home. A window into the Realm of the Living Wind.

Gorgeous, as ever. He spotted a few of the Cloudkeeps, gently spinning as their long, verdant banners billowed from atop their white, fluffy islands.

He hadn’t been back there in so long. Or at least, it felt that way. Getting stuck in a prison realm for countless years certainly hadn’t helped. Whenever he did eventually return, it was debatable as to whether anyone there will have noticed.

Which was preferable, actually. With any luck, the master of the realm won’t have woken up yet. He didn’t need another lecture.

But that was neither here nor there.

Nerovoy’s condition was what he focused his energy into. A small push was enough to invigorate the reaper, make him whole and normal again.

Well. For the most part.

The amorphous shape briefly became a perfect orb, glowing in that familiar and ethereal way, before finally returning to the shape of all reapers.

To Ettol’s eyes, Nerovoy was now a humble flower. Green stem, black-and-white petals, and a smoldering stamen in the center.

‘Ah,’ came the reaper’s groggy voice. ‘Germal. There you are. I was having the strangest dream.’

“A pleasant one, I hope?” said Germal.

‘Heh. I’ll describe it, and then you can tell me what you think. I was on a beach, overlooking the ocean. There was a beautiful sunset across the horizon. I felt so at peace. And yet, at the same time, I could see a great tide coming in. Slow as molasses. I stared and stared, but it hardly seemed to move. And despite how comfortable I was, I somehow couldn’t dissuade myself of the notion that the tide I saw was a terrible omen. An inevitable doom, of sorts.’

Germal made no response. He merely let the reaper loose from his grip, allowing the little flower to float there in front of him.

‘So?’ said Nerovoy. ‘Go on. What does it mean? You were always good at deciphering dreams, weren’t you?’

Germal wanted to say something, but his neck and mouth twitched, trying to wrestle away from him.

Jonah. Stop this, already.

“Doom is exactly right, Nerovoy. You’re doomed, and I’m the cause.”

Bastard.

‘What? What do you mean?’

Next page at 6 pm PST

Just want a few more hours. Thanks for reading, everyone.

Page 4017

It was nonsense, though. The constant push to see patterns where none existed. He and all his kin each had their own reasons for coming here. And it wasn’t because they were secretly mortal or “craved” its miserable touch.

Rather, it was simply because this was where land and sea met.

At length, Germal returned to the little castle’s main chamber and took a seat by the western wall. This place, too, harbored plenty of memories for him to fall back into, but he’d already indulged enough, he felt.

He needed to prep for his friends’ arrivals.

Maybe one day, he would be able to tell them the full truth of things. Of his unique nature and history. He certainly wanted to bring them in.

But it was still too soon. He didn’t want to risk them not understanding.

Yes. Better to keep up the illusion for a while longer.

He reached into his coat and pulled out the dormant blob of ethereal energy.

Nerovoy. Germal’s reaper.

Or Jonah’s, rather.

Doubtless, this had a great deal to do with why Jonah refused to see reason.

Nerovoy’s decline into this state was not something that Jonah was going to forgive or forget any time soon.

Reapers were always an issue when it came to reincarnating. They didn’t always decline in exactly this way--nor had it always been this gradual--but there was always something that went wrong with them. Despite his many attempts to remedy the problem across multiple incarnations, Ettol had never found a solution.

He didn’t want to resign himself to the idea that this was wholly unavoidable--that the merge simply could not be conducted without harming the reaper--but after all the Ages, it was difficult to deny that might well be so.

More lies, of course. He’d known this was going to happen all along and never warned Germal about it. Oh, but he’d ‘merged with full understanding,’ right? Sure he did.

Never the bad guy. Always well-meaning, at the very least.

How hard you work to convince everyone of that story. Even yourself.

You lying monster.

You can’t deceive me. I see right through you, and I always will.

Germal pushed Jonah back down again. More forcefully, this time. Stay quiet for a while, please.

He returned his attention to Nerovoy. He concentrated, closing his eyes as he searched for the Windlight.

Next page on the 4th

Thanks for reading, everyone. And Happy New Year, by the way.

Page 4016

Hmph. Never forgotten, had you? Perhaps if Arnel had become a vessel, you would have. After all, how was he any different from Hada? Eating people alive. Taking pleasure in the suffering of others. Why did Hada get a pass from you but not Arnel?

Hada did not “get a pass,” Jonah. But there was only so much that could be done to him as a form of retribution or punishment.

Bullshit. You’ve always been too soft on him. Even moreso than the others.

Jonah. Hada might very well be the most powerful among us. Sure, we could trick him in any number of ways, imprison and annoy him, but in the end, what more could be done? If you know of some way in which we could kill him, then speak it now.

Work with the emperors instead of against them. Together, you might see it done.

You make it sound so simple...

And you make everything sound complicated.

Ettol couldn’t stop a sigh from passing his lips. The illusory tower on fire dissipated into nothing, taking the imagined nighttime along with it and allowing daylight to return.

He wanted to keep arguing, but he could already feel Jonah’s will falling into the recesses of their mind again. And it was a conversation they’d already had, of course. No doubt, that was why Jonah was receding into the background: because he knew they’d arrived at their typical impasse.

How did Jonah become so stubborn? He used to be so gentle and kind. So understanding. Even towards Ettol.

It was the Supreme Will, wasn’t it? As much as he wanted for it not to be true, Ettol was finding it increasingly difficult to remain in denial. At some point, Jonah must have developed it.

But when? Ettol searched his memories. It had only been about forty years since Bellvine, so if he compared Jonah now to then... and reexamined everything that had transpired since...

What could have prompted the Supreme Will to be born in him?

That was yet another of their ancient opponents. But of course, the Supreme Will was also a special case, wasn’t it? Because in many ways, it served as an ally to his kin. They typically needed it for their vessels. It fortified the vessels’ souls and minds, allowing them to withstand the unreal fires of rebirth, which otherwise could only occur within the infinite realms of non-existence.

But it was a double-edged blade, the Will. Because it also resisted their efforts. Emboldened their enemies. And whispered to them, constantly, that they were not gods.

That the reason they were so endlessly attracted to this mortal realm was because, ultimately, they too belonged here.