```---May 29th, 13 AO (After outbreak)---

~River~```

River examined the city around him, bustling and happy in a way that he used to think old-world cities had been. He’d been disabused of that notion though, humans were too selfish, too…destructive to truly have joy.

And so he knew immediately upon entry to Syon that there had to be more to this place than everyone else seemed to think.

He didn’t plan on sticking around long, just enough to get a measure of how this place might impact the life he was leading, but even he felt an indescribable pull to join in with the work, to feel the beat of humanity in his veins once again…

But that wasn’t what he was anymore. Instead, he was sleepless. Someone who should never trust himself to be close to anyone. Someone who was more likely to end up killing someone than he was to help them.

After the tour guide got distracted by one of the others, River slipped away from the group to do some snooping. He didn’t like the idea that there could be a spirit running the place, everything he knew about spirits was how thoroughly they’d destroyed the world and how terrible their destruction was. Zombies, disasters, chaos storms. There were too many things to blame on the spirits. Never mind his…personal history with them.

But River couldn’t discount the possibility of a spirit living here, and if there was, he would at least know what the sparks could be happening here. It would explain why the place was untouched by the continuing disasters of the outside, but it wouldn’t explain why everyone was so sparking happy.

He took note of the radio tower, it didn’t look like the old-world ones so they’d probably built it themselves. He’d seen a few to the west, but this one, just like the make of the buildings and the wall, well it was far better made, it had a distinct style to it. It was similar to the old world cities, but somehow just the slightest bit better. Its scent was clean, old enough to not give away much about what it truly was. River was under no disillusions that he could find anything useful in the architecture though.

River passed the scents of hundreds of humans, the loading bays where storehouses of supplies sat as if they were preparing for the end of the world version two. He smelled the scents of hard sweat and dirt, the scents of the farmers outside the wall, working at their fields tirelessly, sentries with glowing blue eyes who protected them from the hordes of undead.

It was more than survival, it was living. But somehow, this…Tempest was far far too similar to the deals he’d seen to the west, sure, sometimes people randomly popped up with magic unassociated with a spirit, but he couldn’t simply forget what Chicory had said “We are…just people. People who have made deals in exchange for what we needed.”

Yes, this place was different. These people were different. But there was still something hiding and River didn’t sparking like it when things didn’t make sense. If they had a spirit, they would be a whole lot more dead about it

River turned away from the fields, he caught a whiff of cooking food and remembered that they had communal meals here, strange, very strange. He was hard-pressed to find anyone on the outside who would think about such a thing. Every man for himself, and most of them got eaten or sometimes even sacrificed. The world was brutal.

He continued to wander the streets, no one looked at him strangely, and no one thought he could possibly be doing something against their happy world. It was a terrifying thought, no one looking for the betrayals that would be inevitable. Well…they would all die that way.

But somehow there weren’t any betrayals to be found.

Somehow when he scented the b̵̨̹̘͔͑̍l̸̯͎̓͗̒͒͘o̷͈͗͌̃o̷̦͆̇ͅḏ̴̜̳͓͐͂͐̂͠, it wasn’t the cause of hate or destruction. It was simply a street sweeper who had cut himself on a piece of glass he hadn’t noticed. It was simply a child who’d tripped and scraped her knee. It was simply life. The blood that told the world one was still alive. Not the oh so familiar b̵̨̹̘͔͑̍l̸̯͎̓͗̒͒͘o̷͈͗͌̃o̷̦͆̇ͅḏ̴̜̳͓͐͂͐̂͠ of someone who was fighting for their last breaths.

River gritted his teeth and continued onward. Pulling himself this present, feeling an ache of sorrow for things he hadn’t been able to change.

And then the energy in the air increased. He felt his throat constricting by instinct, like a beaten dog who had made his last stand, like a broken man who didn’t want to sparking be anymore. He wanted to live.

He stopped in his tracks as he felt the presence. “Stop it! Just go away. I don’t want to talk to anyone. I want to sparking be alone.” He spoke loudly, loud enough that some passerbys heard him and he felt a trickle of energy from that fact.

The voice entered his mind anyway, melodious, familiar in a deeply subconscious way, and…feminine. Right, he wasn’t back at the clans, this couldn’t be the Other trying to claim him again. ‘River? I know that we have hurt you. We must have, for without that hurt, you would not hate me.’

“Who the sparks are you.” He demanded.

‘I am Syon. The Guardian. The patron of Tempest. I am not seeking to destroy, or to hurt you.’

“And what proof do I have of that? The spirits destroyed the world. I know that things like you break their promises.”

Syon paused, seeming more concerned than outraged. ‘River, my proof is my city. I want them to be happy. That is all.’

He stilled, he did have an answer. He knew what the deeper thing he’d been sensing this whole time was. It was this thing. This spirit. Inside he wanted to think that they would all be like the Other, that every one of them would be terrible, they’d destroyed humanity after all. But he knew that things with souls couldn’t ever be so black and white. “What do you want from me?” he finally asked.

The Guardian sent warmth. It was strange, so very strange to have a piece of life inside him and yet still be unable to feel his own heart. ‘I want you to help her. You don’t remember it, but a very long time ago, you promised her something. I don’t want her to be hurt, and I think neither do you.’

River paused, frowning, “Who are you talking about?”

‘Chicory. She’s going to be leaving soon, I want you to go with her.’

It all suddenly clicked for him. “That…That’s why she’s going to the Clans?! You told her to? That’s a death wish for a human!”

The spirit hummed a long, soft, and sorrowful note, ‘She isn’t human in the traditional way anymore.’

River ran a hand through his hair and continued walking, trying to figure out if this really even changed anything. “Sparks, I should have stayed far away from this place.”

‘You can’t change the past and you shouldn’t want to. You know this better than me.’

He glared at the air, “If you care so much about her well-being, why are you sending her there?”

Syon fell silent, ‘I’m sending her to all of them.’

River frowned, “What?”

‘My siblings, I’m sending her to all of them. She can help them and the people they have ruined.’

River glared at the air, wishing he could see the bigger picture. He was confident he would understand if he could, he was confident he could do something. But he knew spirits; around this point, they always got evasive, which was starting to happen already. She wouldn’t answer what he really wanted to know. How do you know her, how do you know me, why do they need to be helped, why do I care? And most of all, what the sparks makes you think that any of this is okay?

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

He hated the idea of getting tangled up in spirit drama again, because he would never sparking know the answers. But at least it seemed like this one was trying to care about humanity. “And why do you need me.”

‘You are River. You have skills that will be needed, you have a mind that is sharper than any blade, and you have the drive to continue even through the pain.’

River stopped in his tracks, “The pain…”

‘You feel sorrow as the world rejects you. As people don’t try to understand your pain. You feel deeply, but they only see your mask.’

River closed his eyes. “They think they know who I am, as they smile and joke with me and never try to find out what’s deeper. As they drift away and I can’t help but simply let them…”

‘I see you. I know you. But you need to stop focusing on your own problems if you ever want them to get better. You need to accept the world before it can accept you.’

River felt the annoyance and fear drain out of him, replaced with sorrow. “I’ll help her. But I want something in return.”

For some reason, the spirit seemed surprised at that. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was agreeing or because he wanted to make a deal. ‘I can’t give you my Tempest. My brother still has your soul.’

River had figured as much, but he didn’t want it anyway. “I want you to take away my bloodlust.” He thought about asking her to fix his voice, but he wasn’t rightly sure he would know how to fight without that particular problem.

Syon was silent for a long moment. He felt something prodding at him but besides that there was nothing. ‘I…Can’t take it away. It’s firmly part of his gift.’

River frowned, “Could you modify it? Maybe make it less powerful?”

There was more prodding. A low hum of contemplation. ‘Perhaps a little bit, but it won’t be enough payment for such a deal.’

River closed his eyes, “Anything. I’ll take anything.”

He felt that warmth again, a fountain of endless care and compassion. It flowed into him. He felt the moment she touched the bloodlust, but when she withdrew, it felt…the same. “Did you do it?”

‘It will activate only if you begin to lose yourself. A failsafe.’

River relaxed slightly.

‘I still owe you more, remember that.’

“I will.”

And then she was gone.

River felt the absence as he tried to remember again what it had felt like to be warm. So beautiful. He sighed and made his way to dinner, looking for Chicory. For some reason, he trusted that the Guardian had done something. He had no way of knowing for sure though until it helped or…didn’t.

He frowned at the sky; once again, falling into the promises of the spirits. He thought he would have learned after the first time. He trusted that he wasn’t doing this for nothing though. Probably because deep down, he really just wanted to do something. Maybe he just wanted to go back to the clans and punch some particularly terrible people…

--

River frowned at the mess hall, which was still distinctly devoid of any convenient Chicorys, besides the plants in the salad, which weren’t the right kind of chicory.

He didn’t want to ask people, and thankfully he didn’t have to, considering he had something far more reliable than people. Noses were great, useful tools when they weren’t mostly dead human ones that could barely smell the mint family when it was right in front of them..

River took in the scents around him, feeling the bloodlust rise in excitement because apparently, it thought he was going to kill something for it. The stupid thing never learned. He picked out the faint scent that he’d memorized on the way to Syon, it wasn’t the most distinctive scent ever, but River would sooner be torn apart by regular zombies than fail to identify someone he’d known for five hours.

He followed the trail, kind of annoyed at how much meandering she’d been up to, but he quickly figured that she’d been heading to the radio tower area. Right, didn’t she have to have a chat with that Patch fellow? The leader of the fort?

Perhaps that was taking place here. Well, that was fine, he could wait outside until she was done or…

The faint sound of raised voices met his ears as he approached the doors. Raising an eyebrow, River entered the ground floor of the radio tower and held the door so it would shut silently. Thankfully it wasn’t a particularly noisy door so it easily stayed far beneath the volume that the two women were reaching.

“-and I don’t want to go. Are you sure you can’t just tell the Guardian that? You’re the one in charge of this whole thing, she should listen to you!”

Chicory drew her lips to a line, “Reya…I don’t know what’s best, but the Guardian clearly knew about your sister before this, she probably has a plan for that! Or maybe we could even-”

“Don’t suggest we bring her. She’s barely six!”

River frowned at them, clearly the two were trying to compromise, and to be fair it was the most polite arguing that River had ever overheard. But sparks, he could see where this was going.

Chicory sighed, “Look, I have a friend who would probably love to help, great with kids and everything, we could let her stay there for a few months and you could try out the first mission. If it’s not something you ever want to do again then I’ll never ask for your help again. But-”

“Yes yes, everyone wants to help. This is Syon, of course, they want to help. But I don’t sparking want to miss months - if not years! - of my little sister’s life. It’s just sad!”

Chicory looked distinctly as if she’d rather be anywhere but here. “Reya…please? You’re the only other girl on the list, I mean I’m not trying to be selfish or something but like…”

Her face softened slightly, apparently finally understanding some part of Chicory’s perspective. “Well, maybe the Guardian will agree to send someone else?” She sighed, “All I know is that I don’t want it to be me.”

River tilted his head, he liked this one, she wasn’t complacent to the whims of a spirit, and she questioned what seemed to be everyone and everything. It would be nice to have someone like that along because that’s what it seemed like the two were arguing about, the trip that River had just barely agreed to go on.

He agreed though, taking a human barely six years old to the Clans was a terrible idea. He took a step closer, “It would only be a three-week trip, less if Syon sends us with horses. We would probably only stay for a month, and that’s if we don’t get turned away immediately; which is far more likely.” River fell silent again as the two women turned to look at him, surprised at his sudden presence.

“River?” Chicory asked. “What are you doing here?”

Was his name not on the list thing? Well, he supposed if the spirit wasn’t sure if he would go, she wouldn’t have added him. “Looking for you.” he answered, glancing back at the other woman, “That’s three months maximum, two or less if it goes badly. Personally, I don’t think that’s long enough for a kid to forget about you and decide she likes someone better.”

Reya narrowed her eyes at him, “Are you in the group or something?”

River nodded, “I was kind of pissed about it too, but my reasons are way different.” He cleared his throat, “Anyway, your excuses are stupid.”

Chicory stared at him, slack-jawed, apparently at his blunt proclamation. Reya glared at him instead, “Excuses?”

“Your sister will be perfectly fine and there’s literally no reason not to try it out once and then decide you hate the idea. Who knows, maybe Syon just needs you to fill in this time because someone she wants long-term isn’t here yet. Wouldn’t you like that?”

Reya huffed, moving from behind her desk and pushing an unseen chair back under. “I’m going to go eat dinner.”

And then she was gone. Chicory stared at the closing doors for a long moment as they swung shut and made a supremely unsatisfying thump.

After a moment she turned back to River, eyes curious, “So you’re number five then?”

He sighed, “Apparently.”

She gave him a somewhat concerned look, “But…didn’t you just arrive? Weren’t you looking forward to living here or something?”

River couldn’t help but laugh at that one.

“What? What’s funny about that?”

He grinned, “Chicory, I came here to see what the sparks was going on here. I never had any intention of staying more than a month.”

She blinked at him, “Ah, well you would’ve changed your mind.”

River raised an eyebrow, “Uh huh, I sorely doubt that.”

Chicory rolled her eyes, “Alright, well I’m going to go get dinner. I also have to track down two guys, Ceder and Kade.” She frowned at the door, “Although if their reactions are anything like hers, I have a feeling that they’ll come and find me.”

River made a noise that could be perceived as affirmative and followed her outside, breathing in the air and feeling the bloodlust poke at Chicory, dimly trying to get him to attack her because of how close she was walking.

In response, River walked ahead of her, examining the bloodlust to see if her being behind him helped at all. Yeah nope, it was just convinced she was going to attack his open back now and trying to make him be the first to attack.

Ugh.

“Hey, so…how do you know how long the trip will be?” Chicory asked, presumably trying to fill the silence.

“I’ve been there before.”

“Oh, huh, cool. What are the people like?”

River sighed, “Most of them aren’t human anymore.” Like me.

She didn’t even bat an eye, giving him a mildly concerned look, “Like are they all zombies or is it something like the Tempest?”

He paused, well…that was a very good question. He frowned, “Both. It’s both.”

She blinked and caught up to him, apparently not liking the view of his back, “Wait, how can it be both?”

“Persistence.”

“How is that even an answer?”

“It’s not.”

She glared at him, “Sparks River. Just answer the question.”

He sighed, “It doesn’t matter, half of them are insane. The other half are mostly insane. Plus you’ll have plenty of time to interrogate me later, which is River-eese for ‘I’m annoyed a the world right now and would rather brood in silence’.” His voice rose a bit higher than normal and he had to clamp his mouth down before his stupid voice did something stupid.

Chicory sighed, “Sorry.”

The rest of the way was silent, and although he could tell it bothered Chicory far more than she was letting on, she did stop pestering him. He couldn’t help but feel bad about it though.

He began to mentally prepare himself for when he finally did let her ask all those questions that were undoubtedly burning in her mind. Trying to figure out how to say it all with as little words as possible.

But he still couldn’t force his mouth to open long enough to tell her the real reason he had to stop explaining. He could feel the fountain of energy inside her slowly stopper itself with his silence, which was…a relief in every sense of the word even as he heard a soft yawn from her.