"Oh, so that's why you killed him. Makes sense." Emela agrees with a nod, the three comrades sitting in a circle next to the altar, with their newest member still soundly sleeping just a few paces away. "And now we have even more stuff! Nice!"

"You don't seem perturbed at all", Oltes notices, directing his gaze at Emela, who in turn just continues to smile at him. "Aren't you even a little bit shaken about what happened to you these last few days?"

Emela continues to smile, absent mindedly cleaning a hammer head with a small towel while answering. "No. Why should I? I know that I am safe here, never really alone really. After all, He looks after us. You can even feel His presence. Or is it Hers?"

"Never really thought about it." Oltes lowers his gaze to the ground, focusing on his mind and soul. "I just took that presence for granted. It guides me somehow, that much I can tell. Especially when I'm fighting, it's as if I just imagine where I want to strike and then my body moves by itself."

A smaller girl with black hair throws a contemplating gaze across the room, seemingly listening to something only she can hear. "It needs... A name...?" More a rethoric question to her, the presence telling her in her now favourite language that it does not care about how it is being adressed. It sends her images about how the concept of gender is tied mostly to genitals, at least according to it, and that it came from a world where this topic can become even more complicated at times.

At least it tries to tell her about all of that, but all it mostly achieves is making the innocent little girl blush very hard, as she learns about concepts she never even thought of considering, and some images are hard to forget. Weirdly enough, a random thought about hardness leaves her even redder than just a few moments before, which thankfully goes completely unnoticed by the other two individuals in this circle, She is used to hiding herself, after all, precisely to avoid embarrassing moments like these.

The others, however, have picked up on her words. "A name, huh." Emela is the first to speak up. "Great idea, Sana! We should name it! Considering it apparently doesn't know any language, it should be fine, right?"

"Any worldly language at least", Oltes chimes in, "I remember trying to talk to it once when I was clearing a path, but all I got in turn were some weird sounds which I can't really describe. Besides, is it really okay for us to give a God a name?"

Their contemplation is suddenly interrupted by a soft, yet maniacal cackling. The previously unconcious researcher slowly lifts itself up, his eyes darting all over the place. "Hah Hah. It is a being just like us, not like us. But it is different. Ephemereal. Human, yet not. Something greater, something lesser. I know it. I have SEEN it! I have gazed into the Abyss, beyond the veil it came from. Names are but a tool, designed to chain that which is unchainable! Go ahead and chain it! It cares as much about chains as it does about walls, with even the walls between worlds crumbling beneath it's feet!" He ends his rambling with another bout of maniacal laugh, holding his forehead with his hand while trying to prop himself up properly with his other hand.

Sana immediately rushes over to assist him, holding a waterskin up to his visibly shaking lips. Emela and Oltes also turn around to face the newcomer, with Oltes speaking up first. "Are you feeling alright? Sounds like you might need some more sleep."

The researcher scarfs down the offered liquid, and sana answers without turning. "He's... fine... No need to worry... for now. But... his words... feel right." She pats him on his back as he is currently coughing from a little bit of water entering the wrong hole. "But I don't... really understand..."

"Well, if two people agree on this," Oltes states, eyeing the small girl and the recent addition, "Then I guess we could just name it. But it feels kind of weird giving it a normal name."

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Emela answers this with a beaming smile, happiness and confidence in her voice. "It doesn't have to be a name. What about a title? That's much better! It's like a protector, or a teacher! Or maybe a judge, considering how it punished the evildoers and gave you a second chance?"

"That sounds acceptable to me. Wouldn't be right to call this guiding light something like 'Paun' or so." Oltes lowers his head in contemplation. "But not 'captain', please. Reminds me too much of my bandit days, my time without purpose. Neither 'general', nor anything militaristic. Don't really like those either. They're like bandits, but somehow worse."

Emela raises a finger to her forehead. "Considering how he took us in and takes care of us, something like 'Caretaker' would fit much better, would it not?" She cocks her head to the side, looking at sana, who is still occupied with the researcher, who thankfully has stopped coughing. "Or, considering how it protects us, maybe 'protector' or 'guard'?"

Sana looks up from the giggling man in front of her to look at the wooden statue. Her eyes go hazy for a very short amount of time, barely noticeable to anyone around. "Please... Guide us...", she whispers.

"Another great idea, Sana!" Emela jumps up while practically shouting that, causing Sana to flinch while Oltes side-eyes her. "Oltes!" She turns around energetically, pointing a finger at him, who is still giving her the side-eye. "You said it yourself! It guides you! It guides us! It's decided then!" She swivels her arm around to point at the altar. "From now on You! Whoever you are. You are Our Guide!" The last two words swell the room as they are spoken with huge emphasis, and she swears she could sense a ripple in the presence, which now fills the room and briefly shares the empty space with an echoing slapping sound coming from Oltes' flat hand rapidly meeting his forehead.

A few more long moments of awkward silence follow, during which even the soft maniacal cackling from the newest addition cease, with Emela still proudly pointing her finger at the altar, unmoving, with a beaming smile on her face. It is Oltes who breaks the silence again with a simple statement. "Alright. Now that that is over, what is your name?", he directs the question at the no longer cackling person. "How should we adress you?"

A soft, short cackle primes the atmosphere for a bigger following mad laughter which never comes. Instead, he softly answers. "New things arrive. Old things leave. Pergaments cut to pieces, like eaten by beasts of metal, forever lost to time and space." He lifts his head, to stare directly into Oltes' eyes, unblinking. "My chains have been freed, the cost has been paid. No longer who I used to be, more yet less than what I was. Like the one who gifted me, yet not. Never a gift. A trade but not. Unwilling on both sides, yet necessary."

Emela, still in that same pose, still pointing at the altar, still with the smile on her face, only turns her eyes towards the apparently delusional person. "what."

Sana turns around, facing the floor between her and Emela. "No name anymore... like... Our Guide..." The last two words turn her face completely beet red, which causes her childhood friend to jump forward with glee and cuddle her.

"I knew it's a good name for it!" Emela twirls her around in the air, accompanied by another slapping sound emanating from Oltes' general direction. His forehead now has the same coloration as the entirety of Sana's face. "You're doing Great!"

Oltes picks up the old piece of metal that Emela dropped earlier. A simple hatchet head, the one she found alone earlier, just before she met her uncle. "This is stupid", he proclaims, shaking his head, "I'm going outside, doing something actually productive." With a few strong strides he leaves the ruin and people behind, his head filled with ways to make a proper handle, and on what to do first with his new tool.

"Spoilsport." Emela sits back down, contemplating something, yet never dropping her smile. "This is important aswell." But Oltes is already out of earshot. "We need to give you a proper name aswell! How else are we supposed to adress you?"

The three sit in silence for a while, until something crosses Emelas mind, and she jumps up again, making Sana flinch. "I've got it!", she happily announces. Her finger shoots forward again, pointing at the confused man sitting in front of her. "We will just include Oltes in this, wether he wants to or not! Remember what he said earlier? Your name is now Paun!"

"Emela... I don't think..." Sana tries to start a sentence, but gets interrupted by a bout of maniacal laughter from her side. The newly named Paun seemingly can't hold himself at first, but catches himself eerily soon, and he answers with a serious voice.

"The meaning of a mere farmer. A tool to be used by it's king, it's master. Underestimated by most, yet crucial for victory. I see it! The patterns! A board of squares! It's beautiful, complicated! Twists and turns in advance, beat your opponent! I love it!" His eyes suddenly go from unfocused to focused, his pupils narrowing with insane speed. "It just occured to me."

"Alright," Emela replies, visibly confused, yet still smiling. "Glad you like my idea, but i have no idea what you just said. Could you..." but she does not get more words out, as the crazy man shoots up with inhuman speed and rushes behind the altar, crashing into the church's stonework with a sickening crunch, yet he appears to be uninjured. "...okay then. Keep your secrets."