I worry for my beloved Teuila some time yet. She’s so strong, in so many ways, I never imagined I could see her looking so defeated, so broken. To gaze upon her and watch as a storm of emotions wracks her, from guilt, to rage, to helpless despair, and back and forth over and over, is pure agony to be unable to comfort her and aid her with. I—. I have to focus on something else, anything else. Maybe something I could improve upon within myself. Is calling her my Teuila diminishing? Perhaps I shouldn’t use the possessive as my nickname for my inner circle. They’ve never indicated they didn’t like the names, in fact, quite the opposite. Would changing suddenly, while Teuila is going through this, be the wrong time to figure that out? Would it be piling on a possible tidal wave of emotional trauma to the storm raging within her?

Am I being more paranoid about emotional intelligence because I’m off my keel, and rudderless with none of my inner circle to guide me? Probably. I don’t have experience, I have broken memories. I don’t have a society to learn from, I’ve got an isolated bubble of accelerated thinkspace at the best of times when I actually have my inner circle. I don’t have my family, I just have wandering through violent worlds, adrift in the path of storm after storm. How am I ever supposed to know what’s right, or the good or kind way to act in a situation? No wonder Harriet felt the way she did about me, I really don’t know anything.

I worry that even when she passes through this storm, as I know she will, that she’ll become hesitant, full of self-doubt. Should I risk the egg? Should I send a message back in time? Would I understand my message? Will it solidify a different timeline? What if we’re just stuck in this timeline, even if I create an offshoot timeline? All the future “me”s from Can’Z’aas never sent anything new back from the points that they stopped existing, or rather, the points where I hope that the flow of time was diverted away from. Would it work the same here? What if I’m wrong entirely about my assumptions about how my powers work? What if I’ve been trapping Luni with a billion ceaseless voices of unending attempts at timelines, that continue to stretch into horrid, despairing, dead futures?

Great, now I’m the one hesitant, and full of self-doubt. As I’m entertaining a series of thoughts, they’re interrupted by a familiar, slightly wizened voice saying, “Damocles.”

I blink repeatedly, trying to understand the sudden interruption to my thought train, and I picture a sword hanging over me for some reason. I lamely ask, “What?”

Elder, once known as Decker Cain, answers, “That which hangs over our head as we court disaster. The sword of Damocles will remain in place for as long as we stay here, but you already knew that, didn’t you?”

I gnaw on my lip. I could swear that the sword of Damocles is a tale from fakeworld, Earth, or maybe it’s a tale from Rayileklia, and I remember it because of one of Aces’ dreams? Still, I nod slowly towards Elder, the, well, elder of the Kobold tribe in The Gap. I don’t really know what to say to that, since I’m still emotionally focused on Teuila, and mentally focused on, well, nothing, my brain is too cagey to pin down at the best of times. Right now? Right now is not the best of times.

Elder continues, “You’ll be traveling, North I suspect, as you had once before. I believe we shall too, though, we may venture westerly after.”

I ramble, “But, well, that’s closer to the dragons! Surely that’s not the best choice. Though, err, The Gap won’t be safe much longer, there’s, there’s--”

Elder finishes for me, “Hordes of hell to the south, armies of humans to the northeast, and dragons to the north. All keep away from the northwest, the bog, the lair of the hydra, and the spirits that reside in the swamps. Danger surrounds us, and abounds on our world. Long ago, a kingdom stood in the west, it no longer does. We think to perhaps settle in its ruins.”

I blink repeatedly. Elder is evacuating the Kobolds of The Gap to Jeegoobotstan. That’s almost too perfect. Two vulnerable groups of people making their way to re-settle a razed kingdom. From how we were treated in Autumn Brook, the Brookians shouldn’t be problematic for the kobolds. I think. I’m not sure about the other cities in Aasimovia though, we never traveled to any of them. We didn’t even land at the docks of one of the cities on the north side of Lake Siempre when we left The Brook either time. We instead landed at the mouth of a river, and ferried, or drove ourselves up along that river.

I start, “Elder, if you’re evacuating to the ruins of Jeegoobotstan, Alta Vista, or near there, would you be willing to meet with the human evacuees from Aasimovia?”

Elder nods in answer. I’m surprised he’s so well-informed. I’d thought that the kobolds were insular. I mean, especially after closing themselves off after the debacle with the dominion, and advance warning of the dragon attacks. Maybe they had Dippy become a scout to gather information about the other regions? He is their, “The Bravest Amongst Us.”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Elder sits nearby, placing myself between him and Teuila, giving her her space. He slowly lowers himself to sit upon his tail, heavily leaning upon a walking staff. I cast my senses about, attempting to learn what I can about our temporary refuge, since there seems to be a break in the conversation.

As I cast my senses out about into the depths of the cavern, my eyes struggle to adjust to the darkness that envelops me, which is saying a lot, with my photosensitivity. The absence of light is almost absolute. It's vaguely reminiscent of a--. A void. Hm. Some day I’ll need to pursue those lines of thought, but it’s hard to keep track of which ones are and aren’t safe to follow without Lu. Without My Anchor. The air is thick with what I'm sure must smell like the damp musk of the earth, and the sound of dripping water echoes eerily through the chamber. Almost assuredly melting ice that has somehow worked its way deep enough into the stone of the nearby mountainside.

During this momentary break in the conversation, I take a second to spread forth my silent sonar, I detect a group of huddled forms in the far corner of the cavern. It takes me a moment to make out their features, but it's obvious that they are a small band of kobolds, seemingly accustomed to the pitch-black, huddled amongst themselves. They seem to be whispering among themselves, their voices low and urgent.

Nearby, in the very center of our little refuge of course is our carriage that has been hastily parked smack dab in the midst of this makeshift cave. Its wheels are caked with frost and mud and its paint is chipped and peeling. It seems like it has seen better days, but it appears to be salvageable yet. Hopefully. Most of the canines are apparently resting under or around it.

Despite the gloom, I'm able to picture our surroundings fairly clearly thanks to the silent sonar of my danger wraps, and the odd sense of proprioception that somehow tells me more about the area around me than it should. I can make out the rough-hewn walls of the cavern, their jagged edges and irregular surfaces seemingly carved by magical force. The stones are cool to the touch, and the air is thick with a faint mineral dust that tickles my nostrils.

As I move along my sensory range further into the cavern, I feel the weight of the darkness pressing in around me, suffocating and oppressive. It's as if the very air itself is conspiring to keep me in this gloomy tomb, trapping me with the kobolds and the carriage. Apparently Miza has blocked off the entrance and exit. That's not good for ventilation. I Hope she knows what she's doing.

Sitting here with Elder though, suddenly, a familiar sensation comes over me. Belonging. Family. I can see that there is a glimmer of hope. Despite the danger and uncertainty that surrounds us, there is a sense of solidarity among us. We are all in this together, and with our collective strength and determination, we will find a way to make it through the chaos and into some sense of stability, safety.

That faint glimmer of hope helps ground me. It reminds me that though we’re all hurting, I can and will continue. I’m trapped in a layer of juxtapositions and contradictions. I have to act quickly, or I’ll perish from my mana residue sickness. Yet I have to act cautiously, carefully, because danger is at every corner. Not just danger, but insane, intense levels of danger. The danger sets me back from the glimmer of hope. It reminds me how powerless I am. I feel as powerless as I did when I first faced Octorochi, on some levels. I hadn’t truly suffered the same feeling since then, that powerlessness. Moments where I’d resigned myself to death were common enough, sure, but that was exhaustion, or depression, fear, one feeling or another. Powerlessness is something else. Inability to affect change, real, lasting change for the betterment of myself and others. Which, doesn’t sound like what I should have felt back then, but in a way, in that moment, when Staff Ninja perished, that’s what I felt. Not hopeless, so much as powerless.

There are forces in the world conspiring against me, keeping my memo—. My memories from me? That—. That suddenly sounds familiar. A nagging pain begins to slowly lance from temple to temple, behind my eyes, building pressure. But I can’t just let this thought train go. Or at least, not the thought train I meant to be pursuing. Listing the dangers. One is that deadly force that somehow holds my memories at bay, altering them, keeping them from me, redirecting my thoughts. The others, like Elder has said, include dragons, hordes of hell, armies of humans, acid freaking rain. In some regards, some of the worst dangers are Teuila and myself. Despite feeling powerless, we’re some of the most powerful creatures on this planet. Right up there with dragons, archmages, mythological beasts.

Heh. If Teuila were in a better mood, she’d relish being thought of as dangerous, the most powerful. That has been her goal for so long. Well, a certain side of her goal. She wants to be the best, the fastest, the strongest, the most powerful to do the most protecting. She’s a fighter for all the right reasons. Now she has to contend with losses of life, and I’m certain that she’ll struggle with the idea that she was powerless. Having her agency stripped from her, having her own momentum used against her—. I could see it leaving her feeling powerless.

Oddly, shakily at first, Teuila and I speak at the same time, our voices both becoming steely and resolute, “We have to continue.”

I blink at her, and Teuila fights herself to smile through tears. I feel the psychic walls come down, and she begins riding my thoughts again, after we’d had the same thought. I gasp a shuddered breath, and almost sigh in relief. There’s so much pain beneath that smile right now, but this is Teuila we’re talking about. Of course she’d want to fight through it while making progress on our goals. I’m here for you Te. I love you. I’m here for you.

She speaks into my mind, “I know you are Air. I’m not ready yet though. But thank you. For now, we’ve got some dragon ass to kick.”