Morwen’s eyes burned from lack of sleep as she continued to study a scroll and tone at the same time. Her and Amara’s research efforts had yielded little beyond what they already speculated. Her eyes darted back and forth, glowing with pink energy as she read both items simultaneously using a mind spell. It was a cheat, but what good was magic if it didn’t help her with vital world dependent research?

So far, she felt like she was on a good lead, though. It spoke of a nameless goddess who wielded fate like some wielded swords. Capable of manipulating the very fabric of reality and possibility itself. No records of what she looked like or even a name. Curiously, it was like someone scrubbed her from existence. And that implied a great deal of power, lending credence to the possibility of being able to manipulate fate. She pursed her lips, wondering how Akamori might digest this. She knew he wasn’t a fan of the idea of fate or destiny.

“Mind if I join you?” Amara asked.

Morwen blinked and looked up with bleary eyes. “Please do. A second set of eyes could help.”

Amara’s brow arched as her eyes flashed iridescent gold for an instant. “With a reading spell like that? I’m not so sure.”

Morwen smiled. The exhaustion threatened to set in and she went back to reading. “It has a high cost, unfortunately. It taxes the stamina badly.”

Amara slid down onto the bench opposite to her and pushed a steaming cup of coffee forward. Morwen eyed it suspiciously.

“It’s called coffee. It’s kind of bitter, but the marines got me started on it on the Crasher. Said it would put hair on my chest, but I’ve yet to see any.” Amara finished with a shrug.

Morwen lifted the white mug and sipped cautiously. It was hot, but not unbearably. True to Amara’s words, it was bitter. But it had a way of winning you over she couldn’t describe if asked to. She cast a quick scry spell to see if it was poisoned which caused Amara to giggle.

“It’s ok. I had almost the same reaction.”

“Who put you into it?”

“Akamori.” Amara said with a nod.

Morwen smiled. She should have known. Already she could feel the fringes of her fatigue giving way. Being pushed to the edge of her perception and grant a second wind of clarity. She smiled thankfully to Amara.

“So, where are we?” Amara asked in relation to the search. Morwen almost wished she’d asked about their geospatial position. At least that Morwen knew an answer for. Morwen sighed, pointing at the scroll and tome.

“As you can see, I’m searching for hints for a Wyrm Mother of Fate.”

Amara frowned, and her brows furrowed. “This makes two gods I’ve been looking for recently with little mention. It’s like they don’t want to be found.”

Morwen nodded. The assessment made sense, but why? “What compelled them to expunge any mention of their existence from record?”

Amara shook her head, taking in a worried expression that Morwen was all too familiar with. “I’m not sure I want to open that can of wyrms.”

“Nor I.” Morwen said, omitting Amara’s rank. A sign of respect for the woman’s growth as a spell weaver. The younger Hoshun weaver brightened.

“Tell me more of this other god?”

“Maetraya. It was said she could see the future, as well as divine the true nature of spells and magic. She was also a mentor and friend to Aeryn. What little I could find I was able to discover with the help of a friend.”

At that point, Rozien flew up from her mage’s robes, floating on motes of void magic. The text of his cover making his face. “Greetings. I am Rozien, the first chronicle of Aeryn.”

Morwen blinked at the floating tome as it introduced itself. “Oh. Well, hello there. I’m Morwen. I lead this little outfit of misfits.”

Amara chuckled at her response. In the distance, loud metal clanging issued up the corridor and Morwen thought she heard the Sgt. cheering Akamori through some manner of weight lifting. She didn’t envy Akamori. She knew the Sirsir enjoyed physical workouts a great deal, and if he’d got Akamori into it, then the young man’s fate was already sealed.

“The captain!” The tome said in realization and turned a haughty glance on Amara, “Youd din’t mention she was pretty in a stern way. Like a librarian or school teacher or something.”

Morwen’s brow lifted of its own accord, and she noticed all the color drain out of Amara’s face. She would have allowed herself a laugh if she wasn’t too caught up in the moment. Just who was this book?

“Amara, where exactly did you find this…?”

“Rozien.” Amara supplied eagerly.

Morwen inclined her head to the name. It’d been sometime since she’d seen magitech so old and steeped in magic as this. It made the armor she’d bartered away seem infantile. She wondered who’d crafted the ancient tome and bonded Rozien’s soul to it. More over, what would have driven Rozien to make such a sacrifice? That seemed like a line of questioning for another time when they had less urgent matters to tend to

Stolen novel; please report.

.

“So Maetraya ran in close circles with the goddess of my world, and with our mystery god, hmm? This is feeling less like coincidence and more like design.” Morwen said.

“I find myself agreeing.” Amara rose to get a cup of steaming water from a pot on the counter in the ship’s small mess. She added a packet of brown powder and then two white packets, stirred them together and rejoined Morwen at the table. “Also, I can’t help but feel like this was all set up only for us to find.”

“Again, we agree.” Morwen pointed out something in the scroll she knew would catch Amara’s eye. “I believe whomever is hiding here in the Umbral realm did so specifically so only we could find them. There’s only a few reasons I can think of that would cause a god to go to ground.”

“They were being hunted.” Amara said, a distant look in her eyes as Morwen assumed she wrestled down memories of her world being laid to siege. “It’s the most logical conclusion. Someone or something was out there hunting for them.”

“That fits well with my own memories. They chased the Great Fleet from one sector to the last of the galaxy.” Rozien said somberly.

“Who did?”

“Soul Shackled under Sauridius’ thrall. It was difficult to tell who friend or foe was.”

“That explains why Maetraya was so reclusive. With her ability to divine any magic, even soul shackled couldn’t hide from her sight.” Amara mused.

“Making her a prime target.” Morwen added.

“How do you hide a god, though?” Amara asked.

Morwen turned to the view port at the far end of the galley. The interior shutter was drawn down and latched shut, preventing any light from escaping the ship into the Umbral Plane. It was a travel precaution they didn’t need to make on the Crasher since it lacked windows. But the Brotherhood ships seemed to enjoy peppering their vessels with tiny design flaws. She found it odd why one would design their vessels with structural weak points baked in already.

“You go to the one place no one can see,” Morwen said softly. Not daring to invoke the Voidspawn.

“I’m not sure which prospect frightens me more. Poking around the void blind hoping we don’t stumble upon the voidspawn, or being expected to meet with a god whose remained hidden for longer than recorded time.”

“I wonder, though, at the cause of our journey. Sure, we’re on a prophecy, but the fate of one small world feels insignificant for a god.”

“Maybe it’s the butter knife effect?”

Morwen glanced up uncertainly. She never understood that human idiom. “I’m not sure I follow?”

“Well, maybe it’s important because it starts out small like a butter knife, and then that leads to a bigger problem later.”

Morwen steepled her fingers together thoughtfully. The thought had merit. If Eryn fell, it was likely the Federation would collapse, leaving the Brotherhood defenseless against the Sauridius and the threat of magic. The sector’s collapse would be all but guaranteed in the lack of a unified presence.

“Looking back, perhaps the butter knife scenario proves most plausible.” Morwen said after a contemplative silence.

“I guess we’ll know for sure once we get to our destination, huh?” Amara asked.

“Indeed. Thankfully, the ship has held together thanks to Arjun’s frantic repairs. Though I doubt our chances of returning while the air wyrm is after us.”

She schooled the frown off her face at Amara’s concerned expression and forced a soft smile. “Though, as always, we will prevail.”

“It’s what we do.” Amara said.

Morwen yawned, and Amara’s brows quirked.

“How long since you’ve slept last?”

Morwen shrugged, her blue uniform shifting as she did. “Too long, most like.”

“Go get some sleep. I’ll take watch. There isn’t much to do as we continue on, anyway. It’ll give me a chance to do some more reading.”

Morwen nodded, thankful for the former priestess’ initiative. She gathered the scroll together gently and closed the companion tome she’d been browsing. Time blurred as she drifted to her quarters and went through her nightly wind down routine. Shedding the uniform and combing her hair before bed. Sleep soon overcame her but a curious sensation drifted over her mind. It tingled and unconsciously she knew the sensation was some kind of spell. Mind magic?

Yesss. A deep, thrumming voice crooned.

Of a divine variety. I am the one you seek. I couldn’t risk reaching out to you until you were so close as to stumble upon my feet. The denizens beyond would sense anything else, leaving only this tertiary means of communication open to us. The time draws near when events will soon converge. Many threads will become one. Destinies will be chosen and unmade. Fates decided and lives unmade.

“What is my role in all this?” She asked with no mouth. Only then realizing her lack of body. Ahead of her, a swirling thread of aether reminding her of a rope twisted and writhed as though it had a life all its own. Many strands all coming together. Threads formed strands. Strands formed fibers. Fibers formed the ropey mass.

The Current of Destiny. Domain of the Wyrm Mother of Fate. Few have seen this linkage. It connects all the planes of existence. Anchors all reality. Normally, souls pass through the soul and mind realms where they are broken down. Cleansed. They then reconstitute themselves and emerge as new beings. The Current of Destiny chooses those souls who yet need to fulfill their purpose and ensures they return with the memories or power they need. The Current serves as the guardian of fate. Entrusting the system to those who were carry forth the light.

Morwen felt overwhelmed. Some of this she understood from her instruction as a mage. Much of it, however, she got the impression was a basic tutorial on the foundation of existence and a god had given her the lesson. She couldn’t explain how she knew this was the case. It was just something she could sense. She’d just been entrusted with so much information. Normally, awe and wonder would be her first two reactions, but the overwhelming pressure of the other presence nearly set her into a panic.

Be at ease, little one. All will be made clear soon. But your journey. You have yet begun your true journey. These are the opening steps of the prologue to a new epic. Another verse in the long opera of the system. One which draws nearer to the final act. For now. Sleep. For you will need your strength for the trials to come. Sleeeeeeep

And then, in the snap of a metaphorical finger, all conscious thought ceased and a heavy sleep fell over her. Her last remaining thoughts were how to break the news to her crew. Surely this was something they would all need to know. The question was how?

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