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“Premonitions?” said Zeff. That was a new one. Graves hadn’t mentioned that before.

Or perhaps he had, but Zeff had been too enraged to listen. Difficult to be sure, especially when he could not trust Ax to remember, either.

“Yes,” said Graves. “The storm. I could sense it coming, though I did not know its exact nature or just how bad it would be. But I knew that I would need help. That Vantalay would.”

“And you did not think to tell us of these premonitions?”

“I’ve tried that tactic in the past, too. Sharing such information about myself, about my abilities, has almost always come back to bite me in the long-term.”

Zeff paused. “And yet you’re sharing it with me now.”

“I am trying to, yes. Are you going to make me regret it?”

“I told you before that I would keep your secrets, did I not?”

“You did. And yet, what was one of the very first things you did after making that promise? Do you recall? Because I do.”

Zeff’s jaw clenched. He could see where this was going.

“You told your brethren not to trust me,” said Graves. “You poisoned the well against me.”

Calm. Collected. Begrudgingly, with a clear head, Zeff had to acknowledge that... perhaps the bastard was making a fair point there.

But he also couldn’t just leave it at that, either. “My first duty is to my kin,” said Zeff. “I did that only for their protection, not out of some spite for you.”

“Yes, I know. Which is why I was not as angry as I might’ve otherwise been. But it also doesn’t change the fact that you made things about a hundred times more difficult for me in an already difficult situation. Where countless lives were depending on me. Where they still are, even now.”

Zeff breathed. He was trying to be reasonable. Level-headed. Without pride or ego. Like Cassius. “...It was not my intention to breach your trust, but I can understand your perspective. And I... I apologize.”

Graves’ head reared back, blond hair ruffling, and he blinked. “...You do?”

Pah. He didn’t have to look so surprised. “Yes. I can see how that may have been unfair to you.”

Graves just kept looking at him.

“Now if I can take accountability for my actions and behavior,” said Zeff, “can you take accountability for yours?”

Graves smacked his lips. “Ah. I see. Taking a different approach, this time, hmm? I can respect that. Admire it, even. You may yet become worthy of that noble legacy, after all.”

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Zeff didn’t know if he could fully believe the reaper’s words, but he sure wanted to. It was tough to imagine anyone placing so much trust in him. But then, Axiolis hadn’t given him cause to think otherwise, either. This whole time, the reaper hadn’t been saying very much. He’d just been following Zeff around, observing in silence. Zeff had to be the one to actively check-in and see if Ax had forgotten anything again.

For now, though, he decided that he would simply take Axiolis at his word. The reaper had earned that much, at least. And it wasn’t like there was anything else to be done about it, besides.

He told Ax to grab onto his shoulder, and then, finally, Zeff knocked on the door to Graves’ room.

But he also entered without waiting for an answer.

Graves was there, of course, sitting at a wide, metallic desk with papers in his hands.

Zeff had to wonder if those were even real. He knew for a virtual certainty that Graves was not physically here. This was surely just another of his psychic projections--one of his many fingers in pies all around Vantalay. Zeff suspected he also had psychic avatars among the RPMP and his own Vanguardian forces, at the very least. Maybe he even had one among the enemy combatants, too, spying on them.

“Ah,” said Graves. “Here we go again. Are you ready to listen, finally?”

“This has to end,” said Zeff calmly. “What will it to take for you to let my brethren go?”

Graves set his papers down and eyed the Water Dragon of Sair for a moment. “As I have tried to explain, this is only a temporary situation. I will leave you all be soon enough. I swear. You do not need to negotiate terms for their release or anything of the sort. Furthermore, I am not harming them, nor will there be any lingering effects or damage after I am gone.”

Mgh. Attempting to downplay the severity of the situation. Minimizing the sense of betrayal. Again.

Zeff didn’t let it get to him, this time. “Why is it so important that you manipulate everyone in this way? If your position is so reasonable and benign, then why not simply explain yourself and let them reach their own conclusions?”

“I tried that,” said Graves. “As I always do. But they reached the wrong conclusion.”

“According to you.”

“According to objective reality. And according to my premonitions, as well.”

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It certainly wasn’t the first time that such a window occurred within the long history of his kin--nor was it the longest--but it did set a comparatively odd cultural tone for Zeff to be born into.

With the benefit of Ax’s memories, it was possible to contrast his own childhood with a few of the others. Whenever there was already an active Water Dragon, the emergence of a new one was a decidedly less significant event. Still important, of course. Celebrated among all their kin.

But there was never such a prevailing sense of desperation mixed with relief--and even fear--like there was whenever a divine inheritor was found after a long absence. Looking back on it all now, Zeff could see how much that had affected his childhood.

The weight of those expectations. The emotional turmoil and uncertainty of his elders. The hope for a new day. The fear of a new night.

The more he thought about it like that, the more unlikely it seemed that Asad Najir could have been so coincidentally born into such strikingly similar circumstances among the Sandlords.

Was that not also a quirk of fate?

Asad. Where were you in all of this new madness? Not at the heart of it, surely? Still under Morgunov’s thumb?

That was just another reason why Zeff wanted to set out. Perhaps in the search for Cisco and Emiliana, he might also discover something more concrete about Asad’s whereabouts, too.

Zeff exhaled a slow, steady breath, feeling just about ready now. He opened his eyes and looked around the empty hall one more time.

Ax was right there behind him, as always.

The reaper’s position in all of this was a particularly strange one. Just like everyone else, Ax was forgetting plenty of things, too. And yet, the reaper didn’t seem especially fazed or upset about it, somehow--or if he was, then he was good at hiding it.

‘I will be following your lead on this one,’ the reaper had told him privately the other day.

And when Zeff expressed his surprise and disbelief, Ax said something that had been sticking with him ever since.

‘I know something is amiss. I may not know what it is, but I can feel it in my soul. And above all, my friend, I have faith in you. Ever since Dunehall--no, before that, even. Ever since Rheinhal, actually. Yes. Ever since our clash with Lawrence, discovering the depth of betrayal upon us, I’ve felt it. A change in myself. And in you, too. I’m sure you know of what I speak. And I know of the deep worry you carry about it, too. The concern over losing yourself to some madness. Having your spirit broken, perhaps.

‘But I also know that you carry the Supreme Will. And that your spirit does not break so easily. In fact, a part of me is beginning to think it cannot be broken at all, no matter what foul horrors might arise against us and our people. And you may not understand it--lakefire, I’m not even sure I do--but my faith in you, Zeff, is stronger than it has ever been. I will always be on your side, no matter what happens.’