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“So you can just appear in front of whoever you want, wherever you want, is that it?” said Zeff.

The Monster made no response.

Unsurprising, Zeff supposed. Gohvis had no reason to explain how his powers worked. In fact, he had every reason not to. At his level, maintaining such secrets was no doubt quite important, whenever possible. And considering how little the world seemed to know of this man despite his age, Zeff had to think that Gohvis took his secret-keeping efforts quite seriously.

Meaning he should probably watch his words here.

Yes. Logically, he knew that.

But his logic was not entirely in control, right now.

“Graves told me something of your abilities,” he went on. “You are not truly here with me, are you?”

Still no answer.

Zeff did have a point that he was getting to, though. “Whatever trick that is... might you teach it to my daughter? So that she and I can speak directly like this?”

“A bold ask,” said Gohvis.

“That is what you are doing, isn’t it? Teaching her? Or am I mistaken?”

Gohvis paused briefly. “Where did you come by this impression? I do not recall telling you my intentions for her.”

It was Zeff’s turn not to say anything. He wasn’t about to tell the man that Hector had some kind of psychic link with Emiliana via the Shards of the Dry God.

“You are surprisingly calm, as well,” said Gohvis. “I thought you would give me a harder time here.”

“I probably should. And I probably will, if you don’t give me some assurances, at the very least.”

“Assurances, is it? That is doable. But I did not come here to speak with you of Emiliana, so perhaps we can find an accord between the two of us.”

Zeff cocked an eyebrow. “An accord? Regarding what?”

“Graves.”

Zeff’s jaw tightened. “What about Graves?”

“You can’t trust him, you know. He is using you and all your kin like pieces on a game board.”

“Yes, I remember you saying that before. But you are not exactly a paragon of trustworthiness yourself, Monster of the East.”

“Mm. Even so, I advise you not to get too deeply involved with him.”

Zeff hadn’t been planning on it, but the mere fact that Gohvis was apparently going so far out of his way just to tell him this... was making Zeff quite curious. “Why not?”

Page 3509

That status quo lasted for nearly two thousand years, all the way up until the empire began slowly eroding that autonomy away from the Rainlords, as it had been doing with many other groups during that time period. And when the Mohssian emperor sent his new “Rain King” to rule over them, the bastard didn’t last long before the Redwater Twins declared full independence by killing him in his own throne room.

Zeff, therefore, was supremely uncomfortable with comparisons being made--even tenuous ones--between Hector Goffe and Rhein Ricardo.

But... goddammmit, he did have to admit that the legendary tales did have some... resemblance to what he knew Hector had been through.

What Zeff had himself been through, alongside the boy.

Ugh.

What a terrifying thought.

He rubbed his forehead and took a deep breath.

What was to become of his kin, now? Where were they going?

He’d heard plenty of loose talk, but the heads of all the Houses had yet to properly sit down and discuss it at length. Nor would they, Zeff figured, until they all returned to Warrenhold and fully reunited with everyone. Only then would each House have all of its most influential members present for such conversations.

But the temptation was certainly here, already. To Zeff’s mind, there was really only one route forward. The recapture of their ancestral homeland.

That probably would not require much discussion, other than deciding how soon they should attempt it.

But afterwards? What then?

Zeff couldn’t ignore this disturbing feeling in his stomach that things had already changed for his people in ways that could not be undone. That even after retaking Sair, the Rainlords would never again be the same.

Agh.

He was letting his mind wander too much. Letting the pre-battle anticipation get to him. An all too familiar feeling. He needed to--

“Water Dragon,” came a dark voice.

One he recognized.

He turned to his left and saw a monolithic figure there next to him, barely recognizable as human in the encroaching darkness of the evening.

He should have been surprised. Shocked, even. And yet somehow, Zeff Elroy was not. For a few moments, he merely maintained a flat expression on his face as he sized up the mountainous man, feeling abruptly as though this was a meeting that he had been expecting all along.

“...Scourge,” said Zeff. “I see you are indeed not dead, just as Graves said.”

“Mm.”

Next page on the 7th

Thanks for reading, everyone.