IN WHICH A WEAPON IS HANDLED.

"I was not expecting to find so many mortals out here. Hello. vkk Hello! Yes, hello. Is it not dangerous for you all, to be out here in the woods? Hello, hello. vvv"

The voice of the Original was a deep melodious hum that cut right beneath the swirling clamour of the campsite. Everyone had come to meet the stone giant, more were hurrying out of the undergrowth to come see the marvellous being, the visitor that had popped fully formed out of fireside stories and ancient rumours. The voice was pocked with the occasional jagged click (tk) and hum (vvv), but otherwise full of nothing but smooth and cheerful greetings.

We pushed our way through the crowd, gently, for once there was something more interesting to look at than the five of us. John lead the way, politely shouldering past leaping stallholders and laughing schoolmistresses, a smile plastered to his face to match the mood of the swirling mob. The Original was packed tight in a scrum right in the middle of the crowd, but reached its fingers of stone above the mass to lightly meet the grasping hands of those that desperately, desperately wished to lay hands on an Original, if but for a moment in their lives. Everyone was red-cheeked with excitement, gulping down the impossible nature of it all, a tale to tell their grandchildren.

"Right. I understand. vkk. But there is a city, yes, to the West of here. Hello! Hello."

From the midst of the crowd, most of what we could see of the Original was just its shoulders and head, a sloping base leading up to a perfectly spherical orb. The head had only three defining features, a set of asymmetrically placed eyes, two small, one large. I could only assume those were eyes, since there was no sign of anything within, just three pitch-black hollows vanishing into the stone. The Original didn't move its head that much, not to speak or to follow the movement of its own arms. Those three empty sockets pointed in whichever direction they were left, unless it needed to actively look at something new. When that great orb moved, it twitched in great grinding jolts that had everyone flinching back for a second, the crowd shifting like wind across the water. I clung close behind John's armoured back, I couldn't help but feel strangely unnerved amongst the swarms of people, I couldn't tell you why.

"What. Surely vvvk surely not. I have not been asleep for as long as that. I made sure of it. What year is it?"

John was having to bodily pick people up and move them out of the way now, passing some of them back to Alaxoria. And Zephyr had considered throwing a greater cleaving into this press of mortality, just to briefly incapacitate the Original. I could almost picture the carnage from a spell of that calibre, mangled bodies stacked seven deep, just like the chokepoints we'd forged climbing HIS tower.

"No no, it was. Destroyed. Two days ago." replied a farmhand, yelling to be heard over the roar. To speak with an Original! To answer its questions! Nothing like it.

"Damn. Damn and blast. vkkkk. Then I suppose I will need to travel a little further West than I originally intended."

"But, there's nothing West of the Western Citadel?"

"Yes. I will get wet. Ha. Ha ha, ha. vvv."

Finally, the crowd realised who was pushing and shoving from behind, and cleared away a little, turning to watch us. The Original shifted its head to look directly at us, a few quick motions that sounded like gravel in a steel drum. It ended up staring directly at Zephyr, who floated... uneasily. I'd never, ever seen Zephyr anything less than completely self-assured. The mage drifted closer to the Original, blue gleam partially reflected on the white stone body-parts. Now that we were up close and personal, I could see the rest of the Original. The being was sitting in a weird crouch, legs curled up on either side of its body, long arms wrapped around its torso, balancing on the edges of its feet. It was a bizarre position, one that was practically the most unstable posture it could take while still having both feet on the forest floor.

I knew that look. It was a deliberately non-threatening posture, to crouch like that would put it at a significant tactical disadvantage. Only two types of beings take a stance like that: Those that pose no threat, and those that are incredibly threatening.

"Greetings, ancient one." said John, bowing stiffly, never breaking eye-contact. "It is an honour to have you in this, our, settlement." The Original tilted slightly in turn, the most it could bow without toppling forwards and crushing the lot of us.

"The honour is mine, swiftling. I have come vv seeking the Castle of the West Empire, but I am apparently too late. By only days. Mere days! A strange occurrence, the lands have shifted much since vv-t-t-t I was last thwarted so by time." John grimaced, scratching his head with one gauntlet.

"I was... that is, my friends and I, were also too late. It happened so fast. But HE is dead now, even though vengeance will do nothing for the slaughtered."

"Hmm, that would be the one who accomplished this feat of wanton destruction, I presume?"

"Yes, of course. How could you not- right. Of course, you would not know."

The Original nodded again, a stiff cracking noise coming from deep in its chest.

"When I entered my slumber, the New Empire was free from war. Rare is it that further killing brings back peace, but you have slain a monstrous tyrant, so I can only congrat-vvvvv-ulate you on your victory."

John opened his mouth, and closed it again, twice. Zephyr flew between the two, before John could not-say anything too embarrassing.

"Original. A question for you, if you would listen." The being turned its head, Zephyr's blue glow bounced off the polished stone face, but vanished deep into those hollow black eyes.

"But of course, fiery one."

Zephyr twisted for a moment, then began to... sing? A rapid, fluid, fluting scale that chattered like an angry squirrel, passing between half-tones, vibrating in my teeth and ribs, finishing in a flurry that trilled off between the trees. The crowd had quieted as Zephyr asked the 'question', and a whisper susurrated all around us: "wizard business".

The Original was silent as the hills. For some time. Then it slowly unwound one long arm from its body, placing it palm down on the ground behind itself, so it could learn back and look up at the still-floating Zephyr.

"I would ask where you have learned the words of my cousins, but I believe I can guess. vv-k-vv And since you have indeed learned them, somewhat, and likely in the manner I am thinking of, I will say only this."

Clunks and dull thumps came from deep within the body of the Original, and a tiny trickle of dust puffed out one of its smaller eyes. And then it began, much as Zephyr had, to 'sing'.

It was like standing inside the great organ that had filled Her Radiance's cathedral in the West Citadel, if an ocean storm had torn off the ceiling, and sought to play those brass pipes. The Original set the dirt around it to bouncing as it worked up and down a simple scale, before toning down the volume a little, and beginning. The song, if that is what it was, bore the same resemblance to Zephyr's attempt, as an oak to an acorn. A multi-faceted contrapuntal tangle, skating in every direction towards complete ruin, sprinting through a dozen simultaneous key changes, before divulging into some kind of syncopated quarter-tonal... it wasn't noise, it was as close as it could possibly get to noise, without putting a single musical toe over the line. There were harmonies and convergences that I knew must exist, somewhere between the layers of the monstrous arpeggiated structure, but I could not for the life of me follow where they went.

Zephyr was floating right in the face of the Original, turning a weird shade of grey. Apparently, our wizard could follow, and was in the process of understanding this 'answer'.

Silence, when it fell, was total. The Original did not exactly end the song, just stopped between one transition and the next, as if it could pick the thread back up again without a moment's notice. Unlike the rest of us.

Unlike Zephyr, who was shaking all over, a pallor to the normal blue glow like a storm-touched sky. The wizard turned to face us for a moment, coughed out "it's too much, too much!" Before rocketing up into the sky. John had one hand on his sword, his expression halfway between rapture and murder.

"That was- what did you do to Zephyr?"

The Original raised both hands in an improvised shrug. "I was asked, so I answered."

"I... I believe you did. Will they be alright?"

"Eventually. The guilt is theirs to bear. But I will thank this, Zephyr, when they return. It has been many decades since last I spoke with my full voice."

----------------------------------------

Despite the astonishing events that had taken place, the arrival of the Original had interrupted lunch, and the camp still needed to be fed. In threes and tens, the crowd slowly circulated away. Plenty remained to pelt the Original with questions, but it never really answered them.

"I was created twenty-thousand years ago."

"I have been v active for only seven-hundred of those years."

"It would take me another seven-hundred tvkcc years to describe all the wonders and terrors I have seen."

"I never truly met my creator. Creators, that is."

John rounded on the rest of us while the crowd of people sloshed about. "We can't know for sure what that Original did to Zephyr, but I don't believe it was aggressive. Just... responding in kind. Whatever the case, it is imperative that we stay on our guard while Zephyr is gone. I'll stay here and keep an eye on things, shout if you need me. Keller and Susan, patrol the border of the camp. Alaxoria, we're almost out of food again, I'll need you to go hunting tonight as well." He looked at each of the three of us in turn. For a second, I thought I saw a weird black smudge glistening in his right eye, but it was gone again in an instant.

Keller punted his boots together and executed the sloppiest salute I'd ever seen. The salute wasn't so much executed, as brutally mauled and left to die.

"Sure thing, Supreme Commander Paladin Sir. I'll go off and patrol the bushes! Sure, why not, it's not like I've got anything better to do."

John's mouth was set, eyes forward, shoulders back, and Keller's quibble almost tripped him up. The ghost of a frown crossed the knights face. John took two steps closer, trying to get a quiet word in. As a one, nearly the entire camp stopped speaking, casually listening in.

"Why do you feel the need to show me up, in front of our- esteemed guest?"

"You mean the Original? John, I'll show you up any day of the week, doesn't matter which unfathomably ancient creature is watching. Speaking of which, hi there, Your Radiance. How's the weather?"

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

"...Insufferable. You are just. The heresy doesn't even bother me anymore."

"Hey, I didn't start anything John. You just need to watch it with the spitting orders. We aren't at war, anymore. HE is dead, remember?"

John didn't grind his teeth. He'd been raised better than that. But I could tell he wanted to.

"Keller... please, kindly look after these innocent civilians however you see fit, considering we are surrounded on all sides by roving warfare creations and a poisoned river, without a spellcaster, and with an Original in our midst."

I ground my teeth at that, but said nothing. Without a spellcaster, was it?

Keller saluted again, and turned away towards the forest. Alaxoria looked a little shocked at the exchange, but all it took was a glance from John to send her off at a fair clip. The knight turned away from me, striding back into the crush of fascinated civilians surrounding the Original. "I must ask you-"

"Yes, sir knight?"

"... I realise now, that I do not know your name."

"Indeed. vvv. That is the case."

"Well," John had a lot more bluster to his voice than usual, clipped and over-formal. "May I know your name, Original?"

"You may. It is."

Gently shakes the ashen earth,

Trip'd apart for what it's worth.

Never seek vvvv-k-v...

An awkward pause, after the clicks and hums overtook the voice of the Original. It started again.

Gently shakes the ashen earth,

Trip'd apart for what it's worth.

Never seek the final sphere,

Shed a golden joyous tear.

Those were the words it said, but not what it meant.

The group fell quiet while the Original spoke the name, simple rolling words deep from within its chest. It enjoyed the silence for a moment after the successful recitation, and then, "Those that I consider my friends refer to me as 'Golden Joyous Tear'."

"May, may we refer to you that way?"

"If you like."

John rallied, name in hand. "I must ask you, Golden Joyous Tear. Do you seek to harm myself, my companions, or these people, or to provide assistance to those that would seek them harm?"

"I do not."

"Then, let me belatedly welcome you to join us."

"It is a singular honour. I must not tarry long, my purpose calls me ever onwards, and the tk-vvv-t-t sad destruction of the West Citadel makes it only more urgent."

"May we assist you in some way, Golden Joyous Tear? It would be an honour."

"You may not, not," the Original held up a hand to forestall any argument "because I do not wish it, but simply because the vvv-k-vvv-vvv. Simply because the situation is far more complex and delicate than I previously foresaw. I cannot vvktv. vvv. vvv-vkkkttt? vvvvv kv vv vvvvv..."

The Original continued letting out the the same buzzing hum, interspersed with distressed clicking noises from deep within the stone structure. With one extended finger, it traced the word, SORRY, deep into the dark soil, before carefully, gently, uncoiling to its full height. The construction was glorious, but heavily stooped to avoid cracking through the lowest branches of the canopy. The group parted like a school of fish, each footfall came down with far more grace than you'd expect of several tonnes of stone. That is, not that much.

John walked swiftly ahead, turning to face the crowd. "Our guest, our esteemed and honoured guest, must need some time alone. And we all have important tasks to attend to! No, I understand, no, Golden Joyous Tear is welcome back to our grounds whenever it wishes."

John seemed to have forgotten all about me, just assuming I'd follow his orders. Well - he was right. I headed out, to search the undergrowth for lurking horrors. What fun.

----------------------------------------

The forest was full of birds, and sticks, and leaves, and biting insects. Exactly as it was yesterday. Exactly as it will be tomorrow. Zephyr had certainly discovered some lurking nasties on our first arrival, and had blasted them into foul dust. The memory of that was still potent on my tongue... at any rate, the air was fresh and crisp with the first hints of Winter. At least when the weather fully turned, the worst of the midges would be driven away.

The frost would bring new hardships, yes, but perhaps the river would freeze solid like it did some years, killing the knot-fish as well. The wind spiralled through the upper canopy, a rough wave of sound. I was no weather mage, but it felt like the coming days would be cold, and dark. Already the sun seemed to be setting sooner, rising with less haste. John had called upon the people to join him in prayer and meditation, and each late dawn had seen more and more flock to his circles. I never went, the veneration of Her Radiance made me a little uncomfortable. The chanting reminded me too much of... but no. Comparing what John did to what those barrow cultists had attempted was, foul. Unseemly.

Still...

The faintest sound of a snapping branch split my rambling thoughts in two. I had wandered away from the camp, was I already past Zephyr's defensive enchantments? But no, it was early in the day, they were active only at night. An animal? An enemy? A fellow survivor? My fingers fluttered along my belt, closing on a pair of metal cylinders, etched with runes by an expert back in the West Citadel. Enough to quickly blind and disorient an attacker, without having to call upon too much magic.

Nothing moved. I vainly tried to listen over the beating of my heart, the sudden tightness in my chest. Only the wind, riffling through the tree-tops.

Then, Keller's laughter, from a little way behind me. I was so on edge, it just about made me jump out of my skin. The snapping branch had probably just been the wind, knocking a stick down.

I shook my head to try and clear it, but my thoughts were all awhirl with visions of the stone Original looming over us, of the crowd churning and shouting, of John snapping back and striking Hedda. I don't even know why John had sent me out to patrol, I could barely keep track of myself, let alone where Keller had sauntered off to.

Two voices were slipping between the trees from behind me and off the half-beaten track, just on the edge of my hearing. I started back that way, stepping carefully, gliding my hands across the undergrowth rather than forcing my way through it. Slowly, slowly. I thought there might be a clearing back there somewhere, Keller had pointed it out a few days ago, a thick copse of trees with a tiny gap in the middle.

Keller made a bawdy joke about "handling the shaft," the other voice called back with something about "oh be gentle, you'll make me blush," and they both started laughing again. I had heard Keller make those same jokes with John, and even Zephyr, weirdly, but I'd never heard him laugh that way. I couldn't exactly pick the other voice, probably one of the soldiers? Heat crept up from my collar across my cheeks, for no bloody reason at all. It was just barracks talk, nothing else. I kept pacing forwards, kept placing my feet the way Keller said to, withdrawing when the spot wasn't right, paying attention even when you thought you were safe and silent. There was absolutely no reason for me to be skulking around like this, Keller was my friend, it was just him and a, a new friend, hanging out, making some colourful jokes. I should stroll on over there, head held high, say hello, join them in the midst of the forest. Of course, the clearing was quite small. They'd have to be standing very close together to both-

snap

A nice, dry branch, directly under my left foot. I could feel the heat in my cheeks reaching all the way up to my ears. "What was that?" said the soldier, all business. In an instant, a cold clarity slid down the back of my neck and pooled in my guts: Oh. I'm about to die.

I couldn't tell you why I felt that way, just that I did - I was about to die. My hands were frozen, halfway towards the weaponry in my pockets, halfway to just slumping by my sides in utter acceptance of total annihilation.

"Susan? Is that you?" Keller came around the tree I was cringing behind, holding a polearm just taller than he was, a halberd. His fingers were resting on the hilt of one of his throwing knives, and his eyes darted away from mine to scan the undergrowth. I could breath again, taking great shuddering breaths.

"I thought... I was..."

"Oh. Oh!" Keller frowned and rubbed the side of his face. "Susan, I wasn't going to- I'd never hurt you!"

I just leaned against the tree and focused on breathing in, breathing out the feeling that lands like a sack of bricks, the feeling that floods your mind while Keller is figuring out whether or not to kill you: I'm about to die.

Hefty boots crunched through the brush, and around the tree came the soldier to join us, an empty wineskin trickling a last sip of purple. His eyes darted from me, to Keller, to the forest beyond. "Lady Susan. What an, unexpected surprise."

"Yes, yes, likewise. Um. So. What are you two- talking about?"

Keller and the soldier shared a momentary glance.

"Well, Arsworth here was showing me this family heirloom, which I was admiring," said Keller, who tilted the halberd for a moment before handing it back to the soldier. "Just, you know. Passing the time. Thank you, Arsworth, I'll head back with Susan now." Arsworth nodded to the two of us and strode away without another word. Leaving me with Keller. Just the two of us.

The wind whipped through the branches above. I shivered, not just from cold.

"So, um. That was a, nice halberd. Was it, enchanted?" I hazarded, mostly to break the silence.

"Enchanted. Enchanted?" Keller whipped his head around to look at me, eyes wide with- anger? "You wouldn't enchant a masterpiece like that. Gods be good, what? Maybe you'd put a little weathering charm on the haft, if you were a moron that didn't know anything about basic weapon maintenance. Maybe. Ugh. Now be quiet."

"Keller... what is wrong with you?"

"Nothing's wrong. There's something skulking around in these woods that I could barely hear, and I've got you talking about defiling a great work of art. Hush."

"But Keller-"

"Susan, be quiet! I need-"

"No, you be quiet! It was me. I was walking, you know, carefully. The way you taught me."

"...oh. Why?"

I had no answer to that. Just bobbled my head like an art-defiling moron, and clomped my way back towards the rest of the camp.

Keller just stood there, in the woods, for another whole minute. Before letting out a deep sigh, and moving to follow me. He was so distracted by my antics, that he completely failed to notice the pair of eyes that had been glistening at us from the undergrowth. But then, we had both made some lapses of attention that afternoon.