Epilogue.

Deep within the Void, the old Leviathan chuckled. The spider-goddess had indeed found a clever solution to his trap— binding him with the old rules of courtesy while she let just a flicker of smugness through the breach as she closed it.

In the end it meant little, a few thousand years wasted was trivial to such a being. It could not even bring itself to feel anger; the emotion long ago sacrificed to the clutches of time. Still, it couldn’t help some slight satisfaction as it peered through the walls of reality and observed the newborn it had sent right back at the too-clever spider.

Rage might be lost to the Leviathan, but pettiness? Oh the petty spite of a Void god could be terrible indeed.

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In a small cavern not far from the surface, two men stood guard just inside the shimmering wall of wardstone that marked the end of the Hollows and the beginning of civilization. It was a boring duty— being stuck at the ass-end of nowhere— but relatively safe as such things counted. There were much worse postings to be had in the depths after all.

The padding of bare feet startles the two men into alertness, both of them shouldering the short-barreled rifles common among the guard below.

“Hold there! Present yourself!” The one on the left shouts gruffly.

Timidly, an exceedingly pale young man peers around the corner of the tunnel ahead.

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“Hi! Sorry, I’m a little lost and I uh… lost my stuff?” The voice is clear and timid, with a tinge of embarrassment. The guard lets out a guffaw as he realizes the young man is stark naked and trying futilely to cover himself.

“Had a run-in with brigands did you boy?” Both guards relax slightly, though they stay alert for a possible ambush with a few discrete hand signals between them. The young man answers ruefully, “Something like that, yeah. Definitely didn’t leave me with much…”

They chuckle at his obvious embarrassment but wave him forwards with a friendly smile. “Alright lad, just come step through the ward and we’ll see about at least getting you some trousers until we can get in a report.”

The young man nods quickly and shuffles forward, awkwardly trying to maintain his dignity. He pauses briefly at the edge of the shimmering ward, hesitating for the briefest moment. The guards tighten their grip on their rifles— shapeshifters are uncommon, but it wouldn’t be the first to try and sneak close. He takes a deep breath and nearly lunges through the barrier, stumbling awkwardly to the incredulous gazes of the guards.

A shiver passes through his slight frame. “Whew. It's a bit chilly here isn’t it?” Both guards snort in unison. Another signal passes between them, and the left man steps back while gesturing for the young man to follow. His voice is gravelly from years of shouting.

“Maybe to those who I’ll be generous to call, ‘under-equipped’. Follow me for now and we’ll see about those trousers, boy.” He turns to keep walking while his partner’s gaze is fixed straight into the tunnel, still wary of a possible ambush. In the moment the men’s gazes are elsewhere, another shudder travels through the younger man’s body. A close eye would have seen the veins and muscles seeming to writhe beneath the skin, looking almost like… tentacles. But the moment passes, and by the time the leading man glances back again everything is back to normal.

“You got a name, or should I just keep calling you ‘boy’?”

The young man flushes but returns a grin to the old guard’s good-natured ribbing.

“Sorry about that, it’s nice to meet you.” He carefully extends a hand towards the guard.

“My name is Ray.”