Archer

Tion took note of Sagitta’s awkward stiffness. He had turned to the trees now, craning his neck back to gape at the clusters of leaves near their tops. “Give me a boost, will you?” he asked, grasping the trunk of one spindly tree with his hands and kicking up his legs for the soldier to boost. “I’m looking for nests. Specifically the ones with those little blue eggs in them.” Through grunts, Tion continued the conversation as he squirmed upwards. “I’ll make you a trade: a secret for a secret. Do you bake? I met a man like you not so long ago, a war camp’s chef. He made a fabulous soup. You remind me a bit of him. Anyway, the magic of cooking is you take a bunch of ordinary ingredients, stuff that doesn’t necessarily taste good on its own, and you combine them into something delicious. Gah, there’s ants up here. Heads up!” The god wiped his hand against his leg, sending a rain of tiny ant corpses down below him. He had gotten up at least three meters, using the stubby branches up there as handholds. He had to half-shout to remain audible. “This world is full of ingredients! Some are edible. Others are poisonous. Others you can’t consume at all! But why let that stop you? If you combine enough raw materials the right way, they’ll make something cool. The key is to keep experimenting to see what you’ll get. If you keep it up long enough, you start to unlock the hidden features of your everyday environment! The secret to life, the grand bigger picture is-” He pulled himself up with one arm to the apex of the tree, where a small pile of twisted branches marked the home of a sea bird. With his free hand, Tion delicately plucked a single turquoise egg from its hiding spot, then stuck it in his mouth for safekeeping. He had to climb down in silence, then continue once his boots hit ground. “If you want to learn everything, you have to try everything. Right now? I’m trying something new. Hopefully this quest of ours, or whatever we’re doing, will reveal a few more details about how this continent ticks. Now, someone like you is going to have to specialize. You don’t have the luxury of time, like I do. But I tell you this, everyone can be a chef if they set their mind to it. You and I are gathering ingredients that may prove useful later on.” He wrapped the egg in a fern he ripped from the ground so he could tenderly place it in his side pocket. “Understand? The bigger picture is that I’m trying to collect a solid repertoire of information and hacks. I don’t know what I’ll do with them. Did the man who invented bread know what he’d get by combining flour, yeast, and water for the first time? No! Same goes for me, for us. We won’t know what we’re accomplishing until it’s done.” Tion smiled, seemingly in an excellent mood now. “That’s your lesson for the day. Ponder that, turn it into poetry, I don't care. Though like I said, you owe me a secret now. I hope it’s juicy.”

You stake your identity, your legacy, your life on this nation of yours. You think it permanent. It’s not. In time it will fade away, become absorbed into other cultures. The collective memory of Ta'e'ilo will wither away into myth, then die off altogether. Tion shrugged and licked the rest of the mushroom himself. They were a little overripe, but they made his nostrils flair better than any smelling salt could. He breathed the sensation in deeply. There is nothing you can do that will have a lasting impact. Once you’re gone, all your sacrifices become in vain. The people you fought for die off. The world you tried to shape resets or evolves on its own. The memories you made vanish. Better to have lived a happy life than to struggle for the ultimate prize of nothing. “You imply a contradiction,” the god mused, inching forward through the ferns again, eyes fixed on the undergrowth. “You say you are a fighter, a soldier, a bringer of death, and yet, you also claim not to promote destruction. Is not violence the root of all hardship and loss in this realm? How can you have it both ways?” The greatest thing you’ve done in the course of your short existence is stab me. I will carry that scar for a while, and its memory for longer. Meaningful interactions with one of the ten creatures of permanence in this world are the only way to truly leave a mark. So I commend you, Sagitta. You have already done better with your life than most of your countrymen ever will. It is a shame that it amounts to so little. Tion turned over a small stone with his foot. A tiny snake slithered out from under it, brown and green markings on its back. Seeing nothing else under it, he picked up the rock and threw it into the canopy. In the brief rustle of leaves that followed, two birds suddenly took flight from where they had been hiding, headed north. Tion watched them with interest. “It is good to have a strong sense of duty. I commend it. Just, keep the bigger picture at the forefront of your mind. Don’t let yourself get distracted.” You have no time to waste. Maybe this was a bad plan. But then, what else would she do? Tion's thoughts were confused. He renewed his search for more mushrooms to take his mind off things.

As Sagitta spoke, Tion divided his attention between listening to her and navigating through the trees they came to. The initial flora was sparse enough, ferns, crawling vines, and thin brown trees that only partially blocked the light. He picked his way through between the plants, stepping carefully to avoid crushing the tiny flowers and moss growths he was on the look-out for. Then he stopped, finally processing what she was saying. “T’Sora. You are the first of your kin I have met, I think. Which means you have the opportunity to make a first impression on their behalf! And you’ve definitely brought honour to your family name through your actions. I am proud of you. And appreciate your assistance.” He gave his best reassuring smile. She looked like she needed a hug, but the god resisted the urge. There was still a decent chance she’d punch him if he tried something like that. She was in a bad place, mostly because of him. With luck, Intensity would stop her caring about such things soon enough. He was good at that. Once he sucked enough drive from her, they could leave and do some proper therapy. But that was a problem for another day. For now, I’m doing what’s best for the both of us. Hopefully. Tion cautiously crept forward a few more steps to peer down upon a sunken rock. A line of minute mushrooms was growing on its underside, the grey of their skin making them blend in nearly perfectly with their surroundings. Dexterously, he scraped his finger along overtop of them, making them fall out into his palm. “Here,” he said, offering some to Sagitta. He picked up about half of the collection on the end of his pinky and sucked it. “Tastes like hot sauce, but in a good way. Clears out the sinuses.” “We all face tough realities sometimes. There’s a lot to worry about, especially now. Best to focus on the concerning things which you can control right now. And if that’s nothing, well, plan for the day when you will be able to make a difference. Or build yourself up and improve your ability to effect the change you’re looking for. You’ll return home eventually. When you do, you can right this unjust situation.”

“You’re standing in the way,” Tion said, without looking up from the moat he was digging. “Move a few steps to my right, your left.” He finished circling his latest sandcastle, then pressed his body to the ground in front of it like he was doing a push-up. The god squinted, looking over its walls at another similar sculpture of his, ten meters up the beach. “Needed to go a little back, I think,” he murmured. The god stood up. “Your energy is messing me up. Come on, let’s go somewhere where you’ll be useful.” His finger pointed towards the treeline, deeper into the island, away from the main buildings. “I need to gather some ingredients, after most of my supply was… lost. If you help me carry plants, I’ll let you taste a few of the tasty ones.” With no other explanation, he began walking. When he passed the sandcastle he had been studying, he very deliberately stomped on it, crushing it to dust. That surprised the crab that had sought refuge in it. The tiny orange crustacean scurried away, dipping out of sight below some driftwood. Tion watched it with amusement, then looked back to the jogging soldier. “Sagitta,” he said, the slightest hint of awkwardness in his voice. “After you, after your, when you nearly died. I realized that you never gave me some important information. Because I never asked. So walk and talk, I’d like to know. What is your last name? I may know someone in your lineage, if you tell who your family is. Do you have kids? Siblings? Any ancestors of note, both famous and infamous? It’s high time we got caught up.”

PLEASE DO NOT HURT YOURSELVES BY EATING QUESTIONABLE FOOD. THAT PLEASURE BELONGS TO ME. WHOMEVER SUMMONED ME TO THIS PLACE WILL FACE MY WRATH.

Intensity contemplated this, trying to gauge Sagitta’s might. Her earnest honesty contrasted confusingly with what Tion had told him of her background. Regardless, he saw no need to chastise her. “The longer you stay, the more I can teach you, if you’ll let me,” he offered. He got to his feet, urging Sagitta to lie back down. “This is a special place to me. I hope in time you will discover some of the reasons why I like it so much. Feel free to explore! Now, I'm going to go stop your companion from chasing away all the birds.” The god closed the door behind him with a click, leaving the soldier alone to heal. A week passed. Tion spent most of it on the beach, building sandcastles with a vengeance. Throwing himself into a task helped him keep his focus, and gave him an excuse to check the earth for signs of tremors. One hundred and sixty sand sculptures later, he still hadn’t found anything. The god tried to invite the island’s other inhabitants to join him, but they were content to just watch. Most of them were Intensity instincts, the majority over forty. They stared at him as he dug, seated under palm trees or along the row of cabin porches dubbed Intense City, muttering quietly to themselves. The weather stayed nice, always sunny and warm, yet never too hot or muggy. The food was sublime too. Intensity kept him supplied with copious amounts of juice, which somehow was always icy cold in its glass. He had no idea where they got their supplies from, but Thomas' toes! they had taste. I could get used to this, he found himself thinking. A short vacation couldn’t hurt.

Intensity nodded. “You need to start dreaming bigger then.” From the porch, the sound of shattering glass could be heard, followed by angry squawking. A moment later, Tion burst through the door, his drink noticeably absent from his hand. “You have a bird problem! Hey, glad you’re better Sagitta.” His coat and rapier were gone too, replaced by a simple set of brown robes with flowing pants, all held together by a black sash for a belt. He stood solidly on both legs, his injuries seemingly healed. The god stood awkwardly in the doorway for a minute, on the verge of saying more. Then he shook his head and mumbled something about finding some more juice as he exited as quickly as he’d come in. As Intensity watched the entire scene with amusement, his hand reached out and gave Sagitta’s a quick squeeze. For a brief moment, his eyes narrowed, but the expression was instantly replaced by a wry smile. “How one can channel such anger towards such beautiful creatures is beyond me.” “That does remind me of something, however. I was supposed to ask about your progress. With my gift, that is. But that doesn’t seem too urgent. I don’t want to tire you out.” He slapped his knees, preparing to push himself to his feet. As he did, sand spilled off them onto the floor. “Mm, the sands often resist our efforts hold them back, don’t they? Best to just let them go where they like.”

Intensity smiled at her analogy. “Your weapon is there as well. Although I would prefer that you avoid using it for anything but exercise. We try to avoid violence here. This is a safe space.” The god stroked his beard, brushing droplets of sand out onto his lap. He looked down at them, surprised, and briefly wondered how they had gotten there. Then he drifted back to Sagitta, taking in her struggles to drink the water. “Slow and steady, that’s it. No need to gulp it down. There’s plenty more where that came from. We’re on an island, after all.” “Oh dear, I forgot to introduce myself, didn’t I? I do apologize. Hello child, I am Intensity. Welcome to my home.” He extended a meaty hand for her to shake. A note of fatherly pride entered his voice. “We have ways of telling, you know. For me it’s the eyes. When I look at you, I see the same spark in them that resides in me. You have the Intensity instinct, don’t you?”

A soft knock broke the silence. The click of a latch followed, and the slight increase of outside noises as the door opened: a wind and the lapping of waves along the beach. Then the floorboards creaked, matching the footsteps of the entering god. “How would you like some light, mm? It’s so dark in here.” Intensity pulled a rope on the wall; the shutters of the two front windows flipped open, letting in a stream of radiant white sunlight. It revealed the space to be a pleasant single-room beach house. The walls and floor were made from driftwood boards, faded but homey. A hanging mobile of seashells took up one corner, a bed with a side table sat in another, at the foot of which was a large chest with a lock on it. The last item of furniture was an old rocking chair. Intensity turned it to face Sagitta’s bed, then sat down, seeming to assume that she was awake. He was a portly man, perhaps in his fifties. A full grey beard hung off his chin, below his pale blue eyes. His skin was tanned, including his balding head. The god wore a loose-fitting white shirt and basic brown shorts. In his hand was a crystal glass of sparkling water. “You look like ship… barnacles,” he chuckled. “But I am doing what I can to reduce that.” “Your things are in that box. I suggest you leave them there for now. The air here has a strange way of eating away at any metal that isn’t treated. Once you’re feeling better, I’ll give you a solution to coat your armour in that will stop it from corroding.” While he was talking, he handed the glass towards Sagitta. “You have been through a lot these past few weeks. This cabin is yours now. It’s the least I can do to help you recuperate. Some rest and relaxation would do you a world of good. Speaking of which, how are the wounds feeling?”

The god of Sensation grabbed Sagitta as she fell. He held her in a loveless embrace, more squeezing than hug. He was mad at her. Furious. Because he knew, had their fight continued, she would have won. Without his magic and his dietic healing ability, his years of training were a waste. If he couldn’t beat a teenage woman in a fight he’d initiated, what power did he have? He slammed a fist into her chest. It clanged, hitting metal. That hurt. Tion focussed on the pain, let it envelope him. Seated in a growing pool of his own blood, as he watched the rise and fall of Sagitta’s chest become more and more shallow, the god flipped his head back to glare at the sky and let out a primal scream. *** “Why did you bring her here?” “I told you. We’re scouting other magic sites.” “I understand your mission. It can be done alone. Why did you bring her with you to my island?” “She needs healing.” “Mm. It is difficult to heal the dead.” *** Jessic refused to return to him. Tion tried shouting at it, but that just made it run further away. Eventually, he gave up and claimed Sagitta’s horse as his own. She was in no condition to use it, anyway. From atop his new saddle, he looked down at her body in the middle of the road. It would look like she was robbed, and no one would ask any questions once they saw she was a foreigner. It was a clean victory. Yet, it didn’t feel like one. Tion inhaled slowly. The air smelled acrid. Against his better judgement, he spared one last glance at the soldier’s body. She’s a fighter. This is how they’re supposed to go. But when he looked at the woman, it wasn’t Sagitta that he saw: it was another girl’s body, the image of her lifeless corpse burned into his memory for reasons he couldn’t quite recall. Great Gati. The god exhaled sharply in defeat. Then he dismounted his horse and started rummaging about in his coat. *** “She’s not dead yet. I gave a universal antidote. And she was still breathing when I got her with you. If you’re just going to…” “Relax. I am continuing the process. But before I finish, I would like to know why I am doing it.” “She’s one of yours. I thought you’d enjoy the company.” “Hm.” “I’m not a killer, Intensity. I couldn’t just let her die.” “Hmm.” “What do you want from me? She’s important. I see it in Negation’s eyes when he looks at her. He knows something, or suspects something. I need to figure out how she fits into all of this. Can’t you, I don’t know, check her power levels? Figure out if she’s a threat?” “The touch of fate is often hard to discern.” “Well at least make sure she lives.” “Of course.” *** Their journey to the sea was quick. Sagitta bounced in his lap as he rode, favouring speed over gentleness. Within a few hours, the god was greeted by the sight of an unmarked boat, a large river barge manned by a mild-mannered crew. At times, his companion seemed close to regaining consciousness, but between the poison, spores, and slash wounds, the fact that her heart kept beating throughout it all was impressive enough. Even though the wind was pushing on the sail, the god insisted that the crew row as well. They made good time to the island. *** “You were just here, Sensation.” “It’s been five years. Do my knee next, it’s bleeding again.” “No time at all really. Nothing much has changed.” “Her rapier found me again.” “Mm. And the memories?” “Dreams now. Rare, but resurfacing. I don’t suppose you could…” “Perhaps. The splitting of your soul may present a small challenge. There is a chance that it would reject my attempts to soothe away your troubles.” “That’s a no then.” “Try to flex your foot. Doesn’t that feel better?” “Much. Now, what if I was having the opposite problem? Forgetting stuff that I wanted to remember. Would you intensify some thoughts for me?” “It would easier to let them go. Unburden yourself. You should relax for a bit.” “I think my other half would disagree. I need to-” “Your body needs time to heal the rest of the way. Sit. We can discuss this later, I should check on your companion, Miss…?” “Sagitta.” “A lovely name. Have a drink, I will return in due course.”

In. Out. In. Out. Tion focussed on his breathing, bringing it down to a steadier rhythm. His heart was pounding quickly, but too slow. The god was a little light-headed. Wary of a trick, he held his pose for a count of ten. Then he sunk to one knee and dropped his coat in front of him. Why had he done it? It was an impulsive act. He’d known she could defend herself, so he wasn’t murderous. It was just… something about her insolence irked him more than it should have. But violence wasn’t his preferred language, it was hers. It was theirs. The humans. The god shook his head. His right fingers were leaking so he pressed them against his shirt for the time being. With his left, he dug around for a salve. He couldn’t find any, but he did locate a nondescript bottle the size of a shot glass. Its label was written in Monk Script, but he knew its purpose without needing to read it. “It was a lesson. One I hope you learned,” Tion adlibbed. He rolled the vial along the ground towards Sagitta’s feet. “Drink that. It’ll make you feel better.” The poison it contained was more than enough to kill most men, but he trusted her instinct would dilute it so it just knocked her unconscious. He looked around for his horse. Jessic had run off the road, but he could see her a short walk away. The challenge would be getting her to trust him again after that scare.

As Sagitta’s sword swiped at his arm, Tion tried to move it in the same direction so it wouldn’t ever connect. He was too slow, the blade crunched into the fingers on his right hand. Instinctively, they loosened, sending his rapier flying five meters ahead of them on the road. It slid in the dust, then came to a rest on its side, fresh blood dripping from its tip. The god yanked his right foot out of its stirrup. Leaning on his left, he rolled his body out of the saddle, briefly holding his mare’s mane to slow his fall. That annoyed Jessic; they screeched and bolted. In a flash, what Tion had hoped would be an animal shield between him and his foe was gone. He wanted to look and see where she went, but he kept his gaze focussed on Sagitta in preparation for her next attack. In a well practiced motion, Tion shrugged his shoulders to send his coat sliding down his arms as he held them downward. Before it fell to his ankles, he grasped it with his left hand and swung it around to his front where he grabbed it (with a wince) with his right too. He gave the heavy black material a twist. About three feet of the leather made a taunt, bulky rope-like form between his hands, while the ends trailed loose on the outsides. The deity presented his right foot, keeping his stronger left behind him as he fell into an impromptu boxing stance. He held one hand by his head, and the other by his waist, shielding his chest with the coat. It left him otherwise unarmoured, but he hoped to catch Sagitta’s swing in it and twist the sword out of her grasp when she advanced, collapsing his weight onto her arm if necessary. The sensei preferred an unarmed, close-quarters fight to the current situation, even if his leg was currently protesting mightily. With his coat off, he now felt how much his body was drenched in sweat. That was unusual.

Tion dug his heel into Jessic’s side, urging it to pivot and take the brunt of Sagitta’s blow in its side. The horse refused, rearing up again instead, threatening to throw the god off, but he held on. Too late, he realized that his greater experience with mounted combat would be less of an advantage than he’d thought with an untried mount. Still, the Ta’e’lioan’s were strangers to horses, so he stayed in his saddle as Sagitta’s sword swung towards him. He parried smartly with his rapier, flicking his wrist to meet the blade, but the attack’s momentum was too great to block entirely. Instead of gorging his intestines, it caught him on his upper thigh. His leg immediately felt wet. He hoped it was just smashed bottles leaking in the lower pockets of his trenchcoat where the slash had hit him, but the immense pain in his lower body warned of bleeding. A few more hits like that and he wouldn’t be able to dismount. The god jammed his feet into their stirrups as tightly as they would go, relieved his right one still responded. Defensively, he brought his rapier back around to slice down at his opponent’s weakest point, her head. As he swung, his left hand dug into a pocket near his armpit to retrieve a tiny waterskin. With his teeth, he ripped the cork off then poured its contents into the air beside him, spilling a grey powder down that poofed into a small cloud of particulate when it was released: the crushed spores of a noxious fungus breed, nasty on the eyes and lungs. And incredibly hard to come by, he thought with dismay, trying not to breathe it in himself.

Hm. Almost to the boat. Tion’s horse was still a half-pace ahead of Sagitta’s, riding the middle of the road while she trotted along the right. He turned to look to the left, hiding his face from her. “Fascinating,” he said, a hint of genuine curiosity in his voice, mixed with overtones of hot arrogance. He intentionally refrained from dwelling on the woman’s barbs, though they flared his newfound insecurities in an unexpected way. Radical honesty was producing some interesting results, but he was losing his self-control. Growing careless. Even if they were due to die eventually, the humans shouldn’t know too many secrets. Now more than ever, their power needed to be checked. Tion looked over his shoulder, taking in his travelling partner’s ridiculous over-confidence. “Perhaps you need a reminder of your mortality.” He pulled hard on his reins. Jessic immediately stopped, rearing slightly. In a flash, the god’s rapier was in his hand, swinging sideways to catch Sagitta across the chest.

“Surprise me.” Tion’s tone turned nostalgic. “I told the last person who asked me that to wear a gourd on their head. I made it sound grander and more important to the continued well-being of their valley, but in the end, they just spent the last ten years of their life using a vegetable as a hat. I was hoping it would catch on, but the man died in obscurity and shame. It was funnier at the time, trust me.” “I know your type. I know your race. I have walked with your people for thousands of years, shaping and learning your culture and customs. I know how you think, and I know how you’ll act. That makes you boring. If you really want to please me, show me something I’ve never seen before. Be interesting.” A hint of bitterness crept into the god’s voice. “I know you wanted to hear something else from me. Yes, I have my own code of conduct. I’m cynical, not amoral. But it’s too late for you to try living a perfect life, soldier. Beneath the blues and greens, your aura’s tainted red. Perfection is my weight to bear. So thank you for helping keep my hands clean, but the most you can aspire to now is to be an amusement. Isn’t being human maddening!” Tion took a swig from his canteen. The water tasted warm, but he had had worse. He was having to re-hydrate more often these days, yet another consequence of his condition. “That’s one of the reasons why I’m chasing this prophecy. I haven’t felt this scared in decades. That’s exciting! You, are also indulging me quite nicely. You should be terrified, but you’re not. I find that funny.”

The reply to Tion’s message came back quickly: IT WILL BE DONE. The god flipped his phone shut and resealed it in the hidden pouch he had gotten it from. He cantered back to catch up with Sagitta. The further away from the hole they rode, the better his head felt. Once they returned to the roadway, he started smiling again. He kept his horse a half-pace ahead of the other one to lead them in the right direction as they navigated the trail south-westward. It wasn't long before he started filling the silence with an upbeat prattle. “It’s counter-intuitive, but you should never ask the god of seeing all sides to arbitrate an argument. He won’t take it seriously, he’s too facet-ious!” “So, three men are having drinks at a bar. The bar tender says to the first one, ‘you look angry, mate. Trouble at home?’. To which the man replies, ‘yeah, there’s always trouble. I’m Ta’e’iloan.’ The bartender nods, and asks the same question to the next man down the line. ‘I’m upset for the same reason, although I’m Cahayan. It’s tough over there.’ The bartender shrugs at this and moves to the final man. ‘Hey, you look happier than the others! I guess you must be from Tuhine!’. ‘Good guess,’ says the last man, ‘but me no mad.’” “My friend Izzy told her dentist she was in pain. ‘What’s your Instinct?’ he asked as he looked at her mouth, so she told him. ‘Ha! That makes sense. You’ve got a truth ache.’” Tion paused his stream of jokes to check that Sagitta was still paying attention. “Hey. You good back there?”

"South-West sounds as if it might be close to Ta'e'ilo?" Sagitta asked. Tion nodded. “It takes us closer, but it’s on the east side of Cahaya, not the western front near your home country. Give me a moment then, I need to do something.” The god pulled his horse’s reins to the left, sending them trotting into the half-cover of a large rock ten meters away. He twisted his shoulders so his body blocked Sagitta’s line of sight, then carefully reached into a hidden pocket of his coat and grabbed his cellphone. It was a clunky black flip-phone, but when he opened it, its screen lit up cheerfully. Awkwardly stabbing at the buttons with his index finger, the deity tapped out a message. Intensity, we a re coming your wy from Tiska. Send boat. He watched with amusement as the little circle spun to indicate the message was sending. Then he frowned, and typed a quick follow-up. Intensity, i meant to write are & way .

Tion made a mental note to find Sagitta a cavalry sword sometime. They way the shadows of the rocks around them coalesced into drawn out fingers of darkness, reaching ominously towards them, made him think that they might need it soon. With effort, the god started stepping towards his horse again. “There are other places, scattered around Hopearaa. Most emit a much weaker field than this. And most are otherwise unremarkable, making them very difficult to find.” He tried to pull himself up onto Jessic’s back, but kept missing the top handhold and falling back down. He waved his companion off, however. “It’s fine, I got this.” Finally, he managed to get his leg up and over so he could sit atop the saddle. “I can think of two sites of comparable energy to this. The first lies to the south-east, near the Sea of Gods. A small monastery. I haven’t visited in a decade, but the head monk Oldolf is a friend. I’d say it’s about four to six days ride from here, depending if we have any trouble crossing the border into Tuhine.” “The second is to the south-west, about twice as far away if we ride the whole time. It’s a small island in the Male’mth Sea, positioned along the border. Equidistant between Quartz and Ilani, I think. I struggle to recall its exact location.” Unable to shake the feeling that they were being watched, the god instinctively lowered his voice. “The island is Intensity’s Sanctuary. It’s a strong conduit of magic, but you have to put up with the god when you visit. He can mess with your head, no offence.” He considered the two options. “Both seem equally as likely candidates for an emergence point. I don’t know how we could go about laying a trap, as you suggested, but I am eager to leave this place. South-east or south-west? Choose one and let’s get out of here.”

Tion grunted. “But you feel that, right? There’s a… presence.” He was chewing on a tar-like substance from one of his pockets that was staining his teeth black. The god still looked haggard, but it was clearing his head for now. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing his aura Sight to activate. He became hyper-aware of the wind blowing on his face, and the nervous rustle of the horses, and the sound of Sagitta’s breathing, and the pain in his legs. But when he looked out in front of him again, nothing had changed. All he felt was a slight electric tingle, right at top of his spine. “There’s Old Magic here,” he announced. “But it’s wild, eluding my grasp. Whoever made this chose this spot deliberately. They knew the kind of disruption it would cause. It’s a statement. Or a challenge.” Privately, he was frustrated with himself. He felt closer to his Power than he had in days, like he should be able to reach out and grab it. Yet the reservoir in his soul still felt empty. “I think capping the hole would help things somewhat, but I can’t shake the feeling that it’d be like closing the gate after the cows have already run free. If we wait long enough, something else might crawl from its depths, but I suspect whatever punched through all that-” he pointed at the rocks around them “-is already gone. If it was a thing.” Suddenly feeling very weary, he heavily sat back down. It was getting hard to hide his weakness from the soldier opposite him.

As they rode, Tion leaned back to rummage about in his closest saddlebag. He came up with a cloth-wrapped bundle of hardtack. Holding it like a sandwich, he took a bite and gulped some down. “I put some in your bag too,” he said to Sagitta, breadcrumbs spraying from his mouth. He unceremoniously spit out a glob over his shoulder. “I was hoping I was hungry. But this is starting to feel a little different.” The god kept blinking, as if a bright light was shining in his eyes. He squeezed his knees into his horse’s side more tightly. “It’s not poison either. We’re going to need to stop-” He trailed off as they rounded a small ridge of rock that the path turned behind. Ahead of them lay an open valley, littered with jagged boulders that rose from the ground at odd angles and small crevices where the ground had split. At the center of it all, a half-kilometer away lay a yawning crater mouth, ringed by fresh-disturbed earth and rock. To Tion’s eyes, the air above it seemed shimmer. For a second, he thought he saw a cloaked figure standing by the lip, looking into it, but when he blinked, it disappeared. The path led away from the epicenter, so Tion pulled his reins to steer them off the road. The steady clop of Jessic’s hooves gradually turned into a click-click as the ground beneath them became littered with gravel. He slowed down to make sure they did not turn an ankle on the uneven surface. Otherwise, it was oddly quiet. As his nausea worsened the closer they got to the hole, the hairs of Tion’s neck stood up. He couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was breathing on him. “There should be birds. Insects. Something. It’s too quiet.” He nearly puked as he spoke. “And there’s too many places to hide.” They arrived at their destination a few minutes later. It was all Tion could do to gesture at it, urging Sagitta to check it out as he slumped off his mount and leaned heavily on a nearby boulder. “I’m fine,” he rasped. A stone’s throw away from them, the great black crater beckoned. It smelled faintly of sulphur.

“Are you really the founder of Ta'e'ilo?" Despite himself, Tion smiled at the question. It was naïve in its simplicity, asking him to attribute hundreds of years of nation-building and settlement to a single moment in time, and his direct influence. He was tempted to hedge his answer, but he sensed that as much as Sagitta was punching through his aloof layers of ambiguity at an alarming rate, he was getting through to her too. In his experience, soldiers like herself were happiest when the world was laid out for them in simple terms, but she was also a youth. Barely in her twenties. Her mind was still curious. And malleable. “Your country was founded by ordinary men. The original Triumvirate consisted of Yabo’i, Keeper of Lands, Mo’a’gol, Guildmaster of Merchants, and Arachi the Judge. I believe Mo’a’gol was in the employ of Entropy at the time. Or maybe they were dating? It’s complicated.” He cringed at the thought. “Anyway, all ordinary men, but good at their jobs. All they were lacking was ambition. They needed to see the bigger picture, the kind us gods are privy to. That is were I entered the story. Yes, I provided them with inspiration. I am very good at pushing men in the right direction, offering the kind of insight that comes with great experience. But it was through their hard work that the nation survived and thrived. They were the soldiers on the front lines while us gods acted their generals.” The woman had been fed Ta’e’iloan propaganda all her life. That was useful. Tion tried to channel a bit of patriotic cheer into his words. “Those men, the original stars of Ta’e’ilo, have long since burned out. But their spirits live on in the souls of the nation’s people. So long as you continue to believe in the strength of a community greater than yourself, and keep striving to be the best that you can be, you are a star a Ta’e’ilo. You are special. Your ancestors were chosen for greatness. But you, Sagitta, have been given an even greater opportunity. I ride beside you today as an immortal, a witness of history. If you stand by me, and do your country proud, I will remember you. You have the chance to earn your place among the brightest stars. It will be an honour to recall your story one day.” Tion straightened his back and lifted his chin as he sat in his saddle. None of what he had said was a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. Hopefully it was just enough to gain her respect, if not her loyalty.

“Why are you here?” Sagitta’s words caught Tion off guard. He cocked his head as he thought about the answer. I should get a hat. Hats are powerful. “I am here,” he began slowly, “because I have yet to figure out how to escape. Someone very clever is working against me to ensure I never leave this realm. I suspect myself.” “I have goals I want to achieve, but they are arbitrary. Nothing I do here seems to make a difference. Kingdoms come and go, people fight amongst themselves. The world carries on. If I have a purpose, it may be to act as a failsafe maintain the power of the natural world or channel the magic of the ether, but the only way to confirm that theory is to kill myself and see what happens, which I’m not allowed to do.” He shrugged. “For all we know, my entire existence has been in preparation for this moment, where I speak to you, Sagitta, and inspire you to do something earthshattering. Maybe I’m locked in an endless cycle, repeating my lifetimes again and again, until I stumble upon the ‘right’ way forward. He could do that to me, and I would never know. Not until the end.” “You should be taking notes, you’re getting more first-hand godly experience than most prophets out there have. This is easily enough to base an off-shoot religion on. Maybe even a cult. I like those, their meetings are easier to sneak into.” He gazed nostalgically ahead for a moment, then snapped back to his travelling partner. “Not much outlasts the passage of time. Remember that, child. Not your will, not your morals, not even your identity. I am Sensation. I am the last good creature in a world of monsters. That is all I know for sure.” “You are a part of this… transformation. You are significant for some reason, but I don’t yet understand why. That indicates I am missing some important information.” He eyed her skeptically. “I wonder what secrets are locked away inside of you.”

Tiska. Mid-afternoon. Tion took Sagitta’s news in stride. If she was more dependent on him now that she had lost her money, she was less likely to desert. And the self-loathing radiating from her was delightfully palpable; anger was an emotion he knew how to manipulate well. He assessed her coldly as he steered his horse in the direction indicated. “That nomad wounded your pride, soldier. You know how to soften the blow.” He relaxed the reins, trusting Jessic to follow the road. She was a good horse, if prone to moments of weakness. Ah shoot, I forgot to water it. “Sorry, girl,” he murmured, rubbing its neck. For the next few minutes, he zoned out slightly, delving into his memories. He needed to revisit the important ones, to keep them fresh. Disturbingly, some were starting to decay. Just fragments, for now, but it seemed to be accelerating. The god found himself thinking about another immortal, Intensity. Last he had heard from them, they had established a sanctuary somewhere, a place of permanent peace and mild weather, where nothing seemed to matter all that much. Did I ever visit there? I would remember doing that. Surely I would. A chill ran down his spine as he was reminded of the power of the company he was keeping now. He snapped out of his trance and looked to Sagitta to see how she was faring.

The year is 2048. You have snuck into the woods in your camouflage bomber jacket to watch the trees. You see one, very old, slowly die and topple over. Silence. "Ha," you say. "When a tree falls in the forest and there's no one around to hear, it really doesn't make a sound." "What's that, bud?" comes a voice from behind the log, as The Lorax steps into view. "I'm late on the sound effects one time and you have the nerve to call me out on it?" He kills you dead, the end. What steps, if any, will your ghost take to exact your revenge, and will it include inviting others (your children, noble warriors of the realm etc.) to participate in the avenging? Because I'm free Tuesdays and Wednesdays if you need a sword guy, assuming the sword is provided.