Vibrant emerald earrings swayed in the wind, glistening in the setting sun as a young boy looked out over his home of Frensol. Today would mark the tenth time that he had attempted to climb the towering walls surrounding the community and venture out into the sands of Nede. One big difference in today’s attempt is that he stood atop the wall, looking down on the already slumbering town. From deep into the desert behind, a faint cry of the lynixen calling to him, followed by an insistent voice whispering in the winds.

“Issac, borrowed blood of Vitus, it is time to fly on your Goddess’ wings. She beckons you to her temple. Oasiah, she requests to see her chosen. Do not delay, let no soul hinder you. Find her missing pieces that the wretched Vularien has scattered about the land. Her emotions, memories, vision, and voice all stolen and hidden away. Bring her these pieces in the form of relics, and she shall return to you your missing loved one.”

These words have been said to him in vivid dreams for over a cycle now, those days wasted at home trying to find a way to follow her pleas, his attempts at escape futile. The dreams alternated: Sometimes he would be greeted by incoherent screams in an almost vacant space with no ground or sky, true void holding only agony mixed with rattling chains never to be seen and a mist of stars lighting up the darkness; other times it was that whispering quest repeated by grains of sand that would engulf his body, coloured in an array of red, blue, and purple. The voice fluctuated as well, but often it was the sound of his lost brother, Kyle Vitus, who would invade his slumber within these dreams. This time he wasn’t going to get caught by Johannae or his Father. This time he would succeed.

At the top of the wall, only accessible to those who could reach the bell-tower of the sanctuary. From the bell’s home, Issac climbed onto the roof of the structure and leapt over to the wall, a feat very harrowing for someone only fourteen cycles into their life. Thankfully, the child trained his body every day to become more agile and flexible, modeling his movements off of the insects known as Vularon. Named after the God of Death who shattered Oasiah, these bugs sparked hatred in locals for being bad omens and destroying crops. Issac found the superstition silly, having a love for all creatures, and he trained himself to be swift as their lithe forms often were. Of course, this all had to be done in secret. At the furthest reaches of the town rested the cemetery, one large sandstone building residing there to burn the bodies of the sacrificed. This practice insured that all souls returned to the Goddess after death. It also kept clutter low. The Mortician’s home inside the building was very quiet and spacious, and Issac would go there to learn how to fight from Regor Xenorech.

The raven haired kid smiled over fond memories of his teacher, a man in conflict with almost everyone in town. It made sense to be so rough around the edges when he had to choose between being exiled or taking the newly opened position of Guardian of the Souls. Regor, however, loved this position and saw it as an opportunity to cleanse spirits for Oasiah. The job suited his bitter self.

Now was not the time to reminisce,no , now was the time for a leap of faith. The previous night, Issac had dug out a pit in the sands below just off to the side of the main gates of Frensol. Then, he ‘borrowed’ several tens of silk pillows to fill it. The idea in his mind painted a picture of a soft landing to the wool-filled pillows. Now was the time to try it, worse case scenario being he broke something. Johannae could always rebuild him, so that concern did not last too long. Besides, the messenger of Oasiah asked him to fly, so he should be absolutely protected by her power.

Taking a deep breath, Issac aligned himself with the pit directly in front, first tossing his bag of food and supplies. It landed just outside of the hole, papers spilling out into the sand and blowing away. Four sheets of art slipped off into the night, much to the dismay of the child. “I ought to work on my aim…” Not the best last words, so this jump had to make it.

The boy quickly followed suit, leaping off of the ledge and curling himself into a ball to keep from breaking much if anything. In that instance, he felt weightless. The world around him stood still, even the whispering ceased. Issac existed alone for a brief moment, the memory of caring green eyes all he focused on. A glimpse of who he lost, taken away in spirit as he impacted with the soft safe haven. The loud smack of collision brought a sigh of relief. He survived the hardest part of the journey, now the Goddess would guide him forward.

Though he would have liked to grab the missing art, the pages were nowhere to be found. Almost like it never happened, but he drew so often it would be impossible to know what exactly escaped the bag. Shoving the remaining items back inside, he threw the pack onto his back and headed off into the unknown. Issac had never left the town of Frensol, aside from digging that hole, so he had a mighty risky trek ahead. It would all be worth saving the Goddess and finding his brother, who he could sense was still alive somewhere in Nede. Oasiah would not promise what she could not deliver.

A gust of wind rushed past him, pulling at the jewels in his ears. It was common for the members of the chosen to adorn their body with jewelry, though not often in that colour. He picked the emerald to honour Kyle, who loved the rare shade dearly. His older brother often said he would one day die surrounded by it, and Issac fully believed these words to be true.

Along with the dangling earrings that brightened up his neat black hair, Issac dressed with eccentric decorum. Instead of the cloak worn by the majority of the upper class, the child covered a long sleeve blue dyed wool shirt with a tan jacket made of alperian hide. His pants were the same black material as everyone else in his town, and sticking out of every pocket of them were brushes for painting made from the rough shell of the catarin that stuck up out of the desert sands and contained water in its core. The hairs of the brush were crafted from the tiny furs of bupresinger that hatched and grew wings. Items like this only belonged to those with a lot of free time on their hands, as getting those furs was a very mind numbing and cruel task. Kyle made them for his brother cycles ago, he has kept all ten in great condition.

In his back pocket were a pair of brown gloves the same make as his jacket, sewn together with green thread. He hardly used them, much preferring to feel paint on his hands as he created each picture. On each of his hands rings decorated the pinkie and thumbs. On the left, one golf banded pinkie and a silver banded thumb, the reverse for his right. Finishing his attire were a pair of black boots and a gray cap worn typically by children to hide from the sun. All of his clothing was splattered with different colours of paint, caked on from cycles of doodling. Bartholomew despised how his son dressed, but he wasn’t around much since Kyle vanished so this anger was not present often. He does come home almost exactly whenever Issac tried to run away. Not today.

Smiling brightly, the boy took a step towards his next destination. A small hut just between Frensol and the remains of a town called Javari. Johannae would tell him stories of medicine and remetal creation from Javari, being that she originally lived there. She didn’t talk too much on the topic, but would tell Kyle of a man just outside the town. She didn’t know his name, but he saved her life, and maybe he saved Kyle’s too!

From what he could infer from the talks Johannae and Kyle had regarding the little settlement, it wouldn’t even take a new chime of the bell tower to reach so long as he kept at a consistent pace. Thanks to his training with Regor, Issac’s stamina was nearly unmatched in the town, so this trek would be no issue at all.

As he traversed the calm sands of Nede, Issac preoccupied his time in the same way he always did when feeling particularly lonely, which was quite often. He spoke aloud to his Goddess, knowing full well that is not how their connection functioned. She spoke to him and he obeyed, yet he could not respond and get a retrot. Conversation with her Highness did not seem likely in this manner.

The bond he shared with the great Oasiah surley held amazing potential, and the concept of being so close to his Goddess gave Issac a sense of worth and importance, but there was so much more he wished he could achieve with this ability. He never discussed the voices with anyone, not even Johannae or his Father, though he waited with enthusiasm to tell Kyle all about it. His big brother would be so proud that their deity chose him to save Frensol. He could almost feel the wings of her Grace on his back, gently guiding him forward and toward each missing piece. He would save the power that granted existence to all of Buramorme, a very heavy task for a boy of fourteen cycles into life.

“When I become your next vessel, my Goddess, will I be able to see your true self? I would love to draw you, um, if that is acceptable.” And so the idle conversation began, a dance made for two and held by one. It never stopped Issac in his quest to speak to the Creator. For every day of his life, the boy grew stronger in love for his Goddess, wanting to do anything to bring her happiness. The story of her turmoil haunted the boy, though he could not find himself hating the God that harmed his own. Something told him it wouldn’t be just to hate the other, that there must be a reason for what had happened. So instead of placing the blame on a creature he knew little about, Issac would retell the story that his brother, father, and everyone in the town would tell each passing gill of time, sometimes feeling much longer than ten turns of Ailerisk’s body in the sky.

“My Goddess, how much of the stories are true? That many centuries ago, the God of Death Vularien stole away your most precious pieces? Your emotions, memories, voice, and vision all broken and scattered across the sands of Nede? How once this was a beautiful land full of water and peace before he fought you over the rights of us lowly souls?” Telling the story again and again kept the memory alive, and it would be very frowned upon if he ever forgot it. Just another reason for his father to look down on him.

The journey stretched on with this pointless conversation, nearing what looked to be a farmer’s hut in the middle of the desert. Isaac questioned the whereabouts of the so called god of death just as another voice spoke out to him from the approaching abode. “Vularien has a human vessel just as our Oasiah does, my child. He has traveled to my home once in the past, taking a lost soul with him back towards the Slayer’s Society.” Having someone actually respond to his ramblings brought a wide smile to the traveler’s face as he excitedly moved to greet the man. “You are much too eager to speak to a stranger, you have the same light in your eyes as another young soul from Frensol who never should have left his gated life. Child, what is your name and what brings you to my exile?”

The concept of exile concerned Isaac as it had a very negative connotation in Frensolian culture. There were only two ways to be exiled: To disobey your role in society as his brother did, or to be replaced within said role prior to the christening at age ten. The fact that this man was an outcast meant his family must have had a third child they deemed more fit for society. To have lived to that age was surprising to Issac, the exile having to be at least ten cycles older than the younger child. Standing a foot taller and looking down at Issac, the man gestured for him to come sit by the small hut. From the looks of it, he was just sitting down for supper and had a generous helping of drexend fruit and clay jugs of water.

Sitting across from the adult on a very plain looking leather rug, Issac looked skeptically at the food choice. The reaction he gave caused the other to laugh, picking up the spiky fruit with thick gloves. “You fools still haven’t learned the trick after all these cycles? Being so shut off will do that to a town.” Picking up a wide yet blunt blade, the exile brought it down with extreme power onto the hard exterior of the drexend and split the food in half. He did this for the next two as well, juice from the inside slashing Issac in the face. “Sorry about that, these tend to get messy when you open them. You should have some, just scoop it up in your hands.”

The boy hesitated, suddenly realizing something very important. “Are you the man who helps wayward souls in the desert? I think you met my brother, he would have come through here about seven cycles ago. It was a rumor he ran off this way all that time ago.” He spoke a mile a minute, completely catching the stranger off guard. Before he had a moment to answer, Issac continued on with a mouthful of that red fruit. “What’s your name? Were you exiled from your family in Frensol? Wow, this is really sweet, why is it so gross when we cook it. I used to hate these things. You are a really good cook. Do you grow these yourself?”

Putting a hand up as if to stop the rambling before it got too out of hand. Removing the wrappings that protected his face from the harsh winds and sunlight during the day, Issac could now see long messy black hair that looked as if it hadn’t been taken care of in many cycles. The man had a very gentle if not tired face for his age and it was clear by the shaky attempt he didn’t smile very often. “My name is Outcast Joshua. Suppose you return your family title when the family disowns you. I have a feeling you were not in town when I left, but I will admit I do not recall any other travelers that looked like you coming to my home for shelter. I do not see much company out here, it is usually just myself and my Rai. Not sure where she crawled off to today.”

Taking off one of his thick gardening gloves, Josh grabbed a handful of drexend, eating it much more calmly than the child practically bouncing in his place. The energy radiating from Issac brought a sigh from his new friend, still trying his very best on that smile. “You can’t be more than fifteen cycles since the goddess blessed your soul with that body, child, what brings you out all this way?” It was clear to the solitary man that this child was past the ritual age, so he could not be an exile. Judging by the paint littering his clothing, the child either served royalty or was one himself to be so close to such a precious resource of entertainment.

Gulping down another handful of fruit, the boy reached his hand out to shake Joshua’s with a bright smile. “My name is Issac Vitus. I’m on a journey to find my exiled brother. He’s actually not gonna look like me, exactly, since I was not born of the same blood. He has poofy, fiery hair and bright emerald eyes. I was really hoping that maybe you saw him pass by here maybe seven cycles ago?” The innocent smile along with the reason behind his travels brought a horrid memory to the older man’s head. It indeed would have been seven cycles ago that he recalled seeing the vibrant red haired child on death’s door.

The cheerful nature of Kyle was almost fully drained as blood seeped down his left arm, a look of pure disbelief in his eyes as the child of only ten sweeps traveled to Joshua’s home. There was no doubt the boy would have bled to death without his interfering. Recalling this, the nomad placed a hand on Issac’s shoulder. “My child, I saved your brother’s life many sweeps ago.” This assurance widened that smile, though the sudden tightened grip on his shoulder only brought confusion. “As for what happened after that, I recommend you turn back to your home. No one who escapes that town of Oasiah’s children survives without being driven to madness. Do not look for your brother, he is not who you wish to find anymore. You are better off waiting in that town and hoping that the creature Dollie does not return.”

None of what Joshua said made any bit of sense to the young child, though how could it? One cannot expect to be listened to if they throw out vague nonsense with names he’d never heard of before. The man did seem to mean well, he could not sense any aggression from the exiled farmer. That didn’t mean Issac had any intention to listen to those warnings even if he might regret what he learns. Kyle was out there and he was going to find him one day no matter what the outcome of their reunion. Whoever this Dollie person happened to be wouldn’t change his resolve. With great confidence, the boy smiled once again. “I appreciate your forewarning, Outcast, however I will not be stopping my excursion. My brother would go to the ends of Buranorme for my well being, I ought to be able to do the same in turn.”

Finishing the fruit he had been feasting on, the child looked out toward his home and contemplated the journey here. “My brother was badly injured when he absconded from Frensol all that time ago, and the great god of the skies had shifted from Ailerisk’s light to Mulene’s cool darkness. You must have found him very late into his travels, how did you save him when his life essence was escaping thanks to the ceremonial knife Father stabbed into his arm?” He truly was curious, in these harsh winds it would have been more likely to bleed out in the sands and be buried for no one to find him. Not that Kyle would ever give up like that, and Issac knew this determination first hand.

The question brought about more bad memories of the events circling the runaway Visia, thoughts of what he’d done rising from suppression. Standing up now, Joshua disappeared into the small hut for a moment as he searched for two items in particular. Being curious of what he might be doing, Issac got up himself and entered the abode with no concern of what may be in there. The intrusion didn’t bother Joshua, who continued rummaging through self-made shelving carved out of sandstone.

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Inside of the hut, Issac was greeted with various shining gems decorating a long and beautiful silk rug. The stones were laid out to mimic the temple of Selvogad, resting place of the Goddess. The child knelt down next to the display in awe, looking over the very familiar creation. “There is one of these in the Danaelex tool hut as well, it is almost identical. This one is prettier I think, and I should know since I memorized the other one. Fremai said her brother Vaneh made it when he was young, I don’t think I was alive yet.”

“Fremai? That must be the child who took over for me. Has Oasiah graced her with the tools required to take over the garden I once loved? If my grasp on time hasn’t altered too terribly much, my parents are surely long since sacrificed by their offspring, there were only approximately two cycles before my Awakening would have occured when she was born. If my Rai’s natural sense for progression is anything to believe in, it has been eighteen cycles now.” Joshua muttered all of this to himself, though Issac still understood the concepts of the personal conversation. He had never heard of an Outcast living so long, but the child of the town’s head of food cultivation surely had a good standing even alone. It all made the boy even more excited.

“So you are the third child of the Danaelex bloodline? I’ve heard stories about there being an Outcast recently in our town, the first in almost four centrites of our Goddess keeping the balance. I suppose not even a Goddess is perfect.” A concept he disliked admitting, but truly it couldn’t be possible that a living creature was perfect. Kyle would often explain that even the gods had flaws, which is why their children could never be perfect. That was the beauty of existence, his brother would say, that we must work together to achieve perfection as a whole self.

As the young man mulled over those memories, a sharp blade was stabbed into the display he so lovingly gazed upon. The ornate hilt was littered with precious gemstones gathered from the deepest excavations of the surrounding sandstone just beyond Frensol. The blade itself was forged of obsidian and curved delicately, clearly used for ceremonial situations. Issac recognized the item immediately, however he could not respond before the elder had. “Third child? I was the second, Fremai would be the third. Vaneh left me the tools to grow stronger, though, so one day I could be worthy of Oasiah again and return.”

What once may have been bitterness in those words seemed to sound calm and accepting, as if he had come to terms with exile in the years of his trials. Picking up a remetal rod holding an incredibly heavy looking slab of sandstone, Joshua lifted it over his shoulder with ease. “Take that dagger back to your sanctuary, I am sure Bartholomew needs it for the Awakening rituals. His son, your brother, left it in my chest after trying to kill me.”

Issac’s immediate instinct to this harsh claim was to laugh, causing the elder to give a look of confusion. After wiping a tear from his face, a result of the outburst, the child continued with his cheery attitude as if nothing could phase him. “Kyle once cried because I accidentally stepped on a cocooned bupresinger. I don’t know what kind of ruse you are aiming for with that lie, but it will not work on me. My brother is the most kind-hearted and gentle person in all of Buranorme.” Taking the ceremonial dagger and slipping it into one of his many pockets, the boy looked over Joshua for a moment. The man was clearly extremely strong, so even if his brother wanted to fight him, there is no way he’d come close to winning. “If you insist on this lie, then tell me more about it. I’m very curious about the going-ons of my brother in the past seven cycles.”

The trust and understanding shown for someone Issac had not seen in almost a centrite of time truly brought back memories of the untainted child who should have killed him once and for all. With his sandstone mallet in hand, Joshua left his little hut and stood out in the sun once more. Looking up to Ailerisk with a hand shading his eyes of the brightness, the man decided the truth was well deserved of his new visitor. “Seven cycles ago, your brother Kyle showed up in the dead of night with more blood on his person than in his body. A child of his age should not have survived the night. However, I just so happened to have other visitors that night, a pair of scientists who regularly trade goods with me. They have studied with the greatest remetal specialists in all of Nede as well as the most impressive medical minds. With Alentine and Lena’s help we saved his life, creating a remetal exoskeleton around his dying arm to keep it stable.”

Pausing for a moment, Joshua placed his mallet onto the sandy floor before gesturing once more for his guest to take a seat. After all, this would be a long story. Issac sat down with him, staying oddly quiet as the story was told. “I believed that Kyle was cast away much like I was, because he was too weak for Oasiah. So I trained him to be strong. I taught him the ways of our Goddess and of the ways of fighting against our personal hesitations. I brought out the strength and decisiveness needed to be a true Prophet of Oasiah. With the remetal arm and a special weapon carved into it by the Scientists, your brother grew strong in both conviction and body for two slow cycles.” It was at this point that Issac chimed back in, raising his hand politely to do so. “Yes, is there something I am not explaining, child?”

Shaking his head in disagreement, Issac pointed at the mallet slowly sinking into the sand as it settled. “I don’t really know what you are talking about at all, or who those two people are supposed to be, but how did someone who is only twelve cycles old almost kill someone of your strength? That is the unbelievable part. It isn’t like Kyle is a god himself. He is just a very devoted follower of the peaceful message of our Goddess. Why would he ever want to kill you, especially if you saved his life?”

Another thing that the Outcast had mentioned still bothered the boy, a detail seemingly unconnected to his brother. “When we first met moments ago, you mentioned a creature to be wary of. Dollie was it? Does that have something to do with where my brother went? Did he hurt you on accident while fighting the creature? What do you mean by creature anyway?” The tirad of question slowed as Joshua dropped his face into his hands, almost sounded like he was crying. “Oh my goddess, are you okay? Do I do something to upset you? I’m so very sorry.”

“No, dear child, you have done nothing wrong. It is I who have caused anguish and corruption due to my ignorance of the world. Dollie, my creation, she is a being of unholy conviction to the renewal of our existence through the Goddess’ legend. If she is successful, we will all cease to exist. It is her influence that caused your brother to lash out at me, and I regret surviving his wrath. That boy came into my home a broken soul full of confusion and wishes, and I turned him into a ruthless killer to try and prove I belonged with Oasiah’s people again.” Tears dripped down his face as he looked back up at Issac, looking years older in an instant through this regret. “The creature known as Dollie is your brother, yet she is something even more horrible at the same time. She will kill you if she finds you, so please return home and wait until her reign over that body fades away.”

Silence surrounded them now, not even the sounds of teardrops hitting the stone table in between them could break through this isolation. The story was a lot to take in for Issac, who sat with his hands clasped together in his lap. Kyle, who had been banished many cycles ago, supposedly tried to kill his savior due to the influences of a demonic spirit within him. He wanted to laugh again, wanted to make light of the situation, but the sincerity in Joshua’s voice told him it was at least partially true. Could his brother be possessed by a dark hatred? If that were the case, he knew what he must do. The whispers agreed, urging him to continue on his path to find the lost soul.

Standing now, Issac nodded his head with determination and brought the dagger back into his hands. “With this blade of the Goddess, I will purge the demon from my brother’s soul. I will travel the sands of Nede until I find his body and bring him back to the light of Oasiah. Thank you for letting me know what path he is on, with this I can save him. Her Grace has spoken to me in the night to find him many nights now, and with this dagger I can cleanse his being.”

Getting to his feet as well, Joshua loudly argued against the idea as he slammed hands down on the stone beneath them. “Have you listened to a word I have said? The creature is pure darkness, she will eradicate your being in moments. There is no telling how much stronger she has become in the five cycles since our last encounter. Heed my warning and return to Frenson where you are safer. I am sure the medicine woman can keep you protected as she has in the time Dollie has traveled.”

“Medicine woman? Do you mean Johannae? She would never fight my brother, they are soul mates. The Goddess brought her to our village so that they might lead our people to peace together. She is more against violence than he is.” Issac put his hands on his hips in irritation, tired of all these lies. “Nothing you have spoken of has an ounce of sincerity, Outcast, I can see why Oasiah discarded you. Begone with your fables, I have no time for fabrications.” Stepping away from the table, Issac was suddenly greeted by two very tall individuals. They both smiled down to him, brightly colored hair shining in the light of Alerisk. Simmering blue and pink eyes looked upon him inquisitively as the two stepped closer.

“My, my, my Lena, it seems our good friend Josh is telling stories to children again. He ought to know better than to try and shed light on Nede to the impressionable youth.” The new man spoke, his voice sultry and smooth in a way that was equally soothing and distressing. Leaning over Issac, long purple hair fell around the new man’s face beautifully and curled slightly at the tips. Being closer now, Issac could see no pupils in the eyes of the person standing in front of him, only a solid pink hue staring back at his red irises.

“It truly is a shame, Alentine, this poor child must be so scared hearing the reality around him for the first time. One ought to ease a fresh soul into such matters.” A much deeper yet sharp voice echoed from the woman now stepping to Issac’s right side, her bright celeste eyes gazing upon the dagger in his hand. Once again, she lacked pupils, the blue pools accented oddly with chopping yellow hair sweeping over to the left and covering one of his eyes.

The two continued to smile unnaturally, both reaching a hand out to the boy. In unison they spoke again, “It is a pleasure to meet the brother of Kyle Vitus, you must be Issac. We have heard many things about you in the whispers from above. You come to save a soul, and we are here to grant you a way to do so.” The introduction caught both Issac and Joshua off guard, the two sharing an uneasy glance as they continued to speak together. “To follow the wishes of our Goddess you must accept her gifts. We are the creators of her gifts, the grantors of elevation to mere humans. And you are the next to receive our gifts if you are willing to lend your flesh to her Righteousness.”

Before the boy had a moment to process the situation, he was being pulled back by the Outcast. “Don’t you two show up in the most convenient times. This child is returning home, he has no grand quest from the Goddess, none of us do. Your gifts are but methods of torture to fund a war no one needs.” His words were harsher than usual, the hand on Issac’s wrist tightening protectively. “Issac wants nothing to do with you, and I told you psychopaths to stop coming to my home.”

For the first time in a long while, Issac stopped smiling. In fact, he glared up at Joshua and pulled himself free of the man’s grasp. “This war against the Slayers is to protect the chosen people of Oasiah so that we might spread her love and peace against their tyranny. If these two are helping with the conflict and hearing the whispers as I am, they are not my enemy. It seems that you are the one I must view as a foe, Outcast.” Putting the dagger back into his pocket, the red eyed boy stepped over to the scientists who waited so patiently. “You saved my brother once, I implore you to aid me so I can save him permanently.”

The two extended their hands out a bit further, still grinning down at the boy. “It is our pleasure to assist a messenger of the Goddess. And it would be wonderful if you could test out our latest creation. Do you accept the alterations needed to be closer to our Oasiah?” It was a decision he felt no hesitation in, gladly reaching out his hand so that they could take hold of it together in a strange three-way handshake. “Excellent, then let us use that stone table for the operation. Surely you don’t mind, Josh.”

The three moved to the table without another thought, Alentine taking the bag off of his back and setting it down, ignoring as Joshua tried to stop him. “Actually, I really do mind more of your disgusting alterations being done on my food table. We’ve talked about this.” His stern voice fell on deaf ears as Issac sat down at the table in quest, Lena pushing food off to make room. “It won’t take anything short of killing you cretins to stop this, will it?”

“Oh, Joshie, try and relax for once. Besides, if you hadn’t twisted that poor boy’s mind to mesh with the soul of the Executioner Dollie we wouldn’t have to do these types of precautions.” Lena criticized as she helped Issac lie down on his stomach against the makeshift operating table. Taking a pair of scissors out of the pocket of her white laboratory coat, she cut open just enough of the back of Issac’s coat and shirt to expose the middle of his back and spine. “Sorry for the wardrobe change, best way to keep from tearing things apart during testing.”

As she worked on preparing the boy for surgery, Alentine rummaged around in the bag sitting beside their test subject. Taking out individual pieces at a time, the large pile of remetal contraptions accumulated on the table. Wiring and blades made up the bulk of the mess, all sitting next to one core contraption with sharp metal teeth that looked more like an animal trap than an enhancer. The silver material simmered in the now setting sunlight, a brand new toy for the pair to test out. “Try and relax as best you can, dear boy, you need to will numbness into your body while I put her together.”

Closing his eyes, Issac took a deep breath as he braced his arms against the stone slab below him. He had heard tales of the pain inflicted when remetal armaments were fused into human skin, but he could only hope it wasn’t as bad as promised by the terrors Regor often told. In an attempt to clear his mind, Issac hummed along with Alentine, the melody a traveling song sang by many prophets going to and from the few towns scattered about Nede. He knew them well from the visits he had with Victurin and Clarek.

The two continued their melody, staying in their own little bubble as Lena and Joshua moved off toward the hut. While he was obviously disgruntled by the turn of events, the farmer made no attempt to stop his old friends. Instead he opted to return to his home and retrieve what looked to be a vial of blue liquid. “Lena, I know that nothing can stop a Vitus when their minds are made up. As if going against you two wasn’t challenging enough. Even the gods themselves fear the likes of the Children of Remetal, and for good reason. I still don’t understand your reasonings, but if you could humor me and give the child this medicine so he might survive the procedure. Even you must know tampering with human wiring is a dangerous game.”

Laughing at the sincerity of her acquaintance, she took the glass bottle with her hand fully covered by the lab coat’s sleeve. Holding it close to observe, a frown grew on the woman’s face. “You haven’t learned from your sins with Vyris, have you? You know this medication was my design, not Johannae’s. I know the intention is to keep a patient awake through excruciating pain for observation purposes. Trying to teach him that his path only leads to suffering?” As quickly as she was to chastise her old partner in research, Lena’s face shifted to a knowing smile. The split from her quiet words to Joshua one moment to her now caring attitude as she faced Issac was not something that surprised the farmer. He was far too accustomed to the duality of the two scientists, such erriness an attributing factor of him disembarking from their old routines together.

Shaking her head, the scientist opened the bottle and stepped back into the clearing to offer it to Issac. “Drink this by the wishes of your family in Frensol so that you might feel what your brother has felt in his suffering. Become closer to his plight and you just might free him of the curse handed down from the wishes of a mirage.” The boy nodded, accepting the liquid into his mouth as if it were a ritual he must abide by. The taste was bitter, like the skins of thousands of rotting flilen leaves combined into one mass of sapphire sludge that dripped down his throat. The medicine acted quickly, first feeling as if his body were pierced by thousands of tiny needles, then passing to allow every exposed piece of flesh to feel the tiniest movements of the wind. In that moment he felt truly connected to Nede and to his Goddess, the wave of each gust of air shaking the core of his being.

In the time it took for Lena to administer this medication, Alentine had assembled the enhancement in its entirety. The end result looked to be giant wings much like those imagined on the back of Oasiah herself. In the center was the trap-like device with sharp blades, each one spread open slightly to expose a myriad of wires to lace into the body. Picking up the device with ease, Alentine placed their creation on Issac’s back so that the four inch long blades rested against the exposed flesh. Adjusting it so it settled properly on his back, he pushed the device slowly and firmly into the body below him so that it would slowly puncture into flesh.

Blood slowly seeped out from the freshly made wounds and soaked into the clothing that remained from the hole cut out as it traveled down Issac’s back. While the boy could not move his body due to the settling medication in his system, he could feel everything that was happening to him. It almost felt enhanced, like the pain was radiating through his entire being and echoing inside of his mind. Within that echo, he could hear the Goddess call to him, a warning too incoherent to fully comprehend unlike the usual clarity he was accustomed to. Unfortunately hearing Oasiah did not hold top priority in the boy’s mind as with the click of a button the blades shot forward into his body with great force.

Issac’s eyes widened and his mouth lay agape, however no sound escaped as the variety of wires began to worm their way through his body and tangle up with nerves and muscles. The ends of the cords frayed out so they might weave into his inner workings and assimilate within his infrastructure properly. The observers stayed silent as the mechanism worked its way into his core and coiled along his insides, the only sound coming from the boy’s labored breath of agony. As much as it hurt though, he felt no concern of death in this moment. If this is what it meant to be further connected to his Goddess and his brother, then there is no better sensation to become engrossed.

What seemed like a full chime in duration to Issac was merely a few granules of time passing as the device fully settled itself onto his back and into his flesh. The medicine administered lasted just a moment longer, his body twitching back to life as Lena began to speak. “What a tremendous success! I was almost worried about you dying from something so simple. The human body is so resilient yet so pathetic.” She mused with a wave of her hand as Alentine moved to clean off the blood around the device.

Paying no mind to how Issac gasped for air, the two pulled him back to his feet so that the remetal wings would begin to activate with the flow of his body’s movements. While still very groggy from the drug, he stammered forward as Josh held a hand out to steady him. With each step forward, the remetal twitched from their folded back position, adjusting to his motions and awaiting a command to fully activate. From the added weight of the wings and the exhaustion from the process, Issac fell into Joshua’s arms and the wings firmly folded back against his body.

Watching the pathetic display, the scientists laughed in unison before grabbing the boy’s arms and dragging him off of their old friend. Speaking in time with one another, they began to explain as they forced the child to run forward. “You must relinquish all doubts and fear, unfurl your wings, and embrace the skies with all your soul! Run, Vitus, run and never look back!” As they brought him up to a frightening speed for mere humans, the two thrust the boy’s body upward and let him go suddenly.

Instead of fearing the feeling, Issac embraced it as he was told and imagined flying through the sky. When he expected his feet to land back on the ground, instead he could hear the mechanical groaning of wings flapping behind him, lifting his small frame with ease. A bright smile formed on his face as he lifted higher into the air, feeling lighter than the clouds themselves as he hovered above the other three.

Alentine picked up Issac’s travel pack and tossed it up to the boy before he got too far away from them. Knowing their technology, it would be unlikely that the wings would allow him to descend just yet. The adrenaline coursing through his body would keep him in the air for some time. “Go forth on your journey, young Vitus, and find your brother. May the Goddess be with you.”

Joshua seemed hesitant to let the child go, however he made no moves to bring him back down. It wasn’t his first time getting involved with their remetal enhancements, having helped with Kyle’s rework only seven cycles ago. It would be ill advised to go against the will of the two, something he knew all too well. Instead the farmer began to clean up his now slightly bloody table, taking himself out of the situation completely.

Seeing that he was being waved off by Alentine and Lena, and a little hurt by the disinterest from Joshua, Issac decided to put his newfound ability to the test and fly off in the direction the voices whispered to him. The feeling of the wind blowing through his hair and against his face was invigorating. He had an enlivened sense of adventure, and new resolve to bringing his brother back home.