My paperwork has passed the review phase and I get my next task.

I find myself exploring the land of the 12 tribes.

Each tribe has a city that they run.

During the old war of conquest, a previous dynasty had conquered the tribes.

Now I weave through the villages collecting data as is my duty.

Resentment is strong here and I find myself stone-walled or chased off more often than I am allowed to collect my data.

My 17th birthday passed with a steady march from village to village.

I think of Siri. In a year I will see her again.

Optimism carries me to the city of Los, named for the tribe that makes the city their home.

The bureau office is as in other cities. Bored bureaucrats processing an endless stream of paperwork.

The work is interesting in that I get to see the countryside. But, the numbers can be mind-numbing.

"Meridian's attacking Quolm." I overhear while I drink tea.

"This is turning into an actual war."

A murmur of agreement spreads among the gathering at the table next to me.

"Shouldn't we be fighting too?"

Silence answers the question.

I find myself as lost as those gossiping.

What I should do and what I want to do.

The heretic's purpose remains. The skull and bones man's words never leave me.

Damn the heretic.

My tea grows cold as I am caught up in my thoughts.

We stand on the brink of civil war as Ivona and the council take an insurgency and make it grow into something much more dangerous.

"The Royal Army is moving," someone says. "They're gonna clean up the peasants' rebellion."

"I don't know, I can sympathize with Meridian and his army. This country has a lot of problems."

"And, violence is the answer?" a voice questions.

There is a pause before someone says, "Maybe."

I stand and leave my coin on the table.

Everywhere I go, it's always the same.

But, then, I think, the fact that the masses are talking like this means that the movement is gaining traction.

Days and weeks become months as I carry on with my task.

I miss Siri. The thought is simple but true.

I wait with optimism for the time when I will be allowed to take my wife.

Once more, we'll spar.

The Census Bureau does have desk jobs. I will be able to stay close to home when I return to Reyl.

I sigh as I feel their presence.

Two spiritualists rush towards me on the open road.

I wait patiently.

"What?" I say as they take a knee before me.

"Lord," comes the voice of one of the messengers. "The council requests your presence."

I tap my foot impatiently.

"I won't come to them like a dog every time they call."

The messenger's eyes are on the ground. "Lord, the council seeks your presence so that you may coordinate an alliance between the Immortal's Army and the 12 tribes. Your presence is essential."

The Immortal's Army, I think somewhat embarrassed.

I sigh a long-suffering sigh.

With water from my canteen and the red dye that I still have, I color my hair the color of blood.

When my task is complete, I turn to the pair.

There is no excitement that they show. Only the resolution to fulfill their duty.

I think that if 1 out of every 10 soldiers in this Immortal's Army, has this kind of resolve, then there might be a chance.

"Well," I say. "Lead on."

The pair nods and off we go.

Our journey carries on for several days before we find a small, out of the way, village.

I get a sense of deja vu as we come to a central building.

Only, this time, the rattling of bones is not heard.

"You have been promising his return for days now," comes a matronly voice.

"We of the tribes cannot join your war without proof that Meridian lives."

"I understand your concern," comes a familiar voice. "I promise you, he will come."

A pounding on the door alerts them to my presence.

The door opens and I am greeted by a gathering of people.

Ivona the barbarian sits across from an old woman.

To the old woman's side are men and women with exotic tattoos.

The man at the door steps aside. And, I walk into the midst of these people.

Ivona stands to receive me. But, the matron doesn't.

"Meridian," the barbarian says. "Thank you for coming."

The old woman has a severe look on her face. And, several grumbles sound from the tattooed men and women.

"What is the meaning of this?"

"You have deceived us. This is not Meridian."

I look from Ivona to the old woman who lets her anger show.

"No," I say. "I am not Meridian. I am Adam."

The old woman stands.

"There is nothing left to discuss."

Panic registers on Ivona's face.

"Please wait, Taluria."

The woman looks at me in shock.

"How did you learn my intimate name?"

I look at her sadly, "Because, you taught it to me when I bonded with your daughter."

The matron's hands tremble.

"That proves nothing." She looks with uncertainty from me to Ivona and her faction.

A tension carries in the air as Taluria calms herself.

Despite herself, the matron of the tribes once more takes her seat.

"Adam, was it?" the woman motions to a seat.

"Yes, ma'am."

"If you are Meridian," she says, "then tell me what I told you on the day you bonded with my daughter."

I am silent for a long moment.

"That you would demand my life if I got Sandra killed."

Her gaze carries a subtle hatred. "And, what did you do?"

I let out a breath I'd been holding, "I got her killed."

The matron's animosity fades.

"It is you, Meridian."

The delegation from the tribes relaxes at their leader's words.

"How did you reincarnate like this?"

I scratch my head, "I don't know."

Taluria looks to Ivona.

"What now?"

Ivona looks to me, "We need to show you to the world."

My thoughts turn to Siri. If I tread too far down the path of a revolutionary, I will lose her.

The skull and bones man had read my destiny. My duty and my sacrifice.

Isn't it too much to sacrifice?

"Tell me where you want me to go."

Eagerness spreads like wildfire through the factions.

Ivona looks to Taluria, "We need your kinsmen to see us."

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The matron nods, "Bring your campaign to us and we will join you."

She looks to me, "Just like old times."

I nod solemnly. Many will die as they did before.

The next few hours are spent discussing the movement of the Immortal's Army and the supply chains that will keep it going.

I leave the planning to Ivona as I step out to get some fresh air.

As I try to digest what will happen to me from now on, Taluria walks out of the building.

We stand in silence for several minutes, watching shadows claim the world.

"You know," she says, "I won't forgive you."

I find myself feeling cold for her words.

"Sandra always had a thing for dangerous men. But you... You were by far the most dangerous."

I have no words to defend myself.

"But, then, Meridian died too. How was it to die?"

"I-" my eyes search the horizon for something that is not there. "I don't remember. What I remember is my birth. How warm it was. How loved I was."

The matron chuckles, "That is good to know. As an old lady, thoughts of death are always on my mind. To hear of the joys of rebirth is comforting."

We stand in silence for a while just watching the day fade.

In our times, we return to the council.

Day and night pass as plans are made.

Despite her reputation as a barbarian, Ivona proves herself a competent general.

In my old life, I took on the role. But, now, I serve the campaign best as a mascot for our growing army.

The Royal Army is rallying in the North East and skirmishes are being engaged.

Days pass as the long march to the tribal cities is coordinated.

But, we can't leave our rear exposed.

We have to fight before we leave.

"Since the Slaughter, we haven't had any major conflicts," Ivona says. "But, the martial sects were a motley crew. The Royal Army will come at us with some of the best spiritualists in the kingdom.

"We must separate our foot soldiers from enemy spiritualists.

"Meridian and other spiritualists will penetrate the enemy's front line. While, at the same time, we send companies to the Northern and Southern flanks.

"We have 1 advantage, numbers. But, our soldiers are not expendable. We'll be counting on you, Meridian."

Legends of my power have circulated throughout the Immortal's Army. Now, they all expect to see proof.

I nod my head as the strategy meeting carries on.

As I walk through the camp, I can't help but notice all the red in people's hair.

I've begun a trend.

As I eat a meal, I overhear a conversation.

"What do you think our chances are?" one woman asks.

"Hmm," comes another voice. "I'd say 50/50. Meridian's supposed to be a force of nature on the battlefield."

"Don't tell me you believe that."

The man chuckles, "We'll find out the truth soon."

I close my mind to the expectations of the masses.

My spirit vine continues to grow. But, I see an abnormality. It looks like a flower bud.

I focus my energy on the one spot.

Reluctantly at first, the flower blossoms.

With this new occurrence, I feel my soul rejoice.

Energy flushes through me. And, the hint of a flowery scent reaches my nose.

Despite soul seeds being illusory thought constructs, my soul vine has a solid bond with reality.

I continue my meditation until the call goes out.

The Royal Army is attacking.

I make my way to the front line where troops are rapidly falling into formation.

A band of slaves and peasants face armored warriors.

But, then, a spiritualist is worth a thousand foot soldiers.

The enemy marches on.

Ready for battle, I hear Ivona.

"Hold position!"

The Royal Army sets its front line with spears and short swords.

Many of our soldiers carry farm equipment or nothing at all.

The sound of marching rumbles through my mind.

And, then, our forces meet.

The ding of battle and the screams of rage and pain sound out.

I vault over the front line where I feel the enemy spiritualists gathered in defense.

Chi bombs fizzle out in the field I've created for myself.

The first man whose life I end couldn't have been older than me.

A startled look comes over his face as I bring down two fingers on his forehead, blowing the back of his skull out.

My sword comes out, decapitating a man who sought to approach me from behind.

The enemy spiritualists layer their chi bombs and I feel my field grow thin.

My spirit vine thrums with power as I increase the field's power.

Chi bombs from me float out to the panicked soldiers.

I project a wide gravity field on the front-line soldiers.

They buckle under the weight.

Fresh screams of agony reverberate through the battlefield as a hole is formed for my army to advance through.

With my field suppressing chi bombs, the spiritualists fight with their skills. But, can do nothing in the face of the mass of peasants.

Ivona's pincer has fallen upon the enemy's flanks.

I push deeper into the formation until I see the banner of the Royal Army. The commander of the army is within reach.

I move over the masses and dig my way to the leader.

He seems to have noticed my trajectory and calls for his guards to protect him.

I slash in a wide arc, sending many chi bombs into the defending soldiers.

The commander begins to flee as I decimate his men.

I use a foot technique to breach the distance between us.

My sword slides through his neck and his body tumbles forward.

I pick up the head and speak with chi-laced words to reach all corners of the battlefield.

"Royal Army!" I shout. "I have your master's head!"

Rather than fear, this drives the enemy mad.

They turn from the peasants and charge me.

I receive the threat as the enemy front line breaks.

Caught on the flanks, with their companies out of formation, the Royal Army faces Ivona as she cleans up.

We hunt them down as they flee.

Meridian takes no prisoners.

No, that's wrong, I realize as the blood lust fades.

This is not how we win.

The slaughter continues until I once more speak chi-laced words.

"Royal Army, surrender or die!"

The sound of battle goes silent before I hear the jangle of metal as swords are dropped from one end of the battlefield to the other.

I find Ivona taking command of the prisoners.

"Ah-" she says to me. "This is a nightmare. How am I going to keep so many hostages?"

I shrug, "Take their belongings and release them."

Ivona eyes me suspiciously, "What made you turn pacifist?"

"Do I look like a pacifist?"

Ivona measures the blood on my robes.

"I suppose not. Still, things were easier in the old days."

"We lost in the old days," I point out.

She chuckles.

The prisoners are many and my peasant army gains valuable swords and armor.

The horde scavenges from the dead and effort is taken to bury our own.

The next few days are spent licking our wounds.

After a rest, we are back to our task. The battle was only a send-off for our real campaign.

The road is long. But, we have provisions as we journey to the city of Los.

"You ever been there, Meridian?"

I look to Ivona, "Briefly."

The massive woman takes on a conspiratorial tone, "I've heard that they have a sacred weapon."

I nod, having heard something to that effect.

"They say it waits for its true master. That it passes through the hands of the unworthy as if it were nothing more than air."

"Who knows? Maybe it's waiting for you, Ivona."

She lets out a loud laugh.

"Ha- That's me. Ivona the legendary warrior.

"Jokes aside," she continues. "To claim the weapon would be a feat of strength that would rally the tribes."

I know what she's getting at.

"Don't be surprised when the weapon doesn't choose me."

"Ha- It would hardly be the most surprising thing about you."

I find myself agreeing with that.

Our journey sees us setting up camp at night.

In the last hours of daylight, I can't help but notice all the men and women with red hair.

I suppose it makes me less recognizable.

The Boros brothers find their way into our camp one night.

"Meridian," Albert smiles. "It is good to have you with us. I know how much you risk."

I sigh, "I'm here. It's my battle. Can't expect you to do all the work."

"You're wrong, Meridian," Zach speaks up. "This war is everyone's war."

A smile tugs at my lips.

"It's good to see you, brothers. Tell me, what have you been up to?"

The men look at one another before turning back to me.

"The Heavenly Way and Death Cult have put their war aside and are planning how to deal with the revolution.

My lips make a line. Those two factions hold many secrets.

Secret arts and magic.

When I infiltrated their factions, I stole irreplaceable tomes and scrolls.

Their hatred for the name Meridian has not cooled in all the time I've been dead.

"We'll have to worry about them at a later date.

"For now, we need the 12 tribes on our side."

Grim set determination is shared between us as we wait for the morning.

Day in and day out, we are only as fast as our slowest soldier.

But, at last, we find ourselves before an oasis in the desert. Los.

The city guard rallies. But, facing a hundred thousand-man army, their defenses are too weak.

I lead a platoon of spiritualists to break open the gate and clear the way for our legions to safely enter the city.

It's over in a day, with negligible losses.

The tribe is suspicious at first. But, Taluria calms the chieftains of the tribe.

I am paraded before the citizens.

Meridian the Uncontrolled. The Conqueror. The Undying.

I can't help but worry that I'll be recognized as Adam, the Census Bureau monitor.

But, the people are restless. They don't want to be led into ruin again.

Ivona pats me on the shoulder. "I know this is hard for you. But, without you, this campaign is doomed."

I nod my understanding.

"Come on," she says. "A legendary warrior is what the people need."

I sigh as I follow my old friend.

The city streets are full of witnesses to our travel.

The relic rests in the oldest part of the city.

We find our way to a temple.

Men and women come and go from the building as we approach.

At the door, we are welcomed by a monk.

"Greetings," the man says.

"Uh- yeah, hi," Ivona says awkwardly.

"Are you here to witness the blade of Askilar?"

"We wanted to try picking it up."

The monk chuckles, "Of course, please try."

We walk into the open building.

At its center, a large rock juts out from the floor.

On the stone rests a sword.

I can feel something from the blade.

It's almost like the weapon is talking to me.

"Hey," I hear. "You. No, not you, you big gorilla," the voice rambles.

Ivona smiles as she climbs onto the rock.

"Get away," the sword hisses.

She stoops down to pick up the weapon and her hands pass through it.

"I told you to go away.

"You, the one with the soul fruit."

I turn my mind inwards and see the growth of a strange fruit where the flower had been.

"Yeah, you. Come pick me up already."

Mechanically, I climb the rock.

I can sense the excitement in the weapon.

"Do it!" the sword barks.

I see the anticipation in my barbarian friend's eyes as I bend down.

My hands meet the solid sword's grip.

"Yes!" the sword screams.

I lift the blade into the air.

The two-handed sword glows, filling the temple with a soft orange light.

"You have no idea how long I've waited," the sword moans.

Other attendants stare in open-mouthed shock while the monks of the temple are at a loss for what to do now.

A wizened old man steps out of a back room to witness my claim on the blade of Askilar.

He comes forward, "My lord, who are you?"

I let out a soft laugh, "It's complicated."

He nods, "My lord, there is a scabbard that our order has kept for many years. It is not a match for the blade. But, it was made for the master of the blade."

The man goes to fetch a long wooden box.

He opens it before me.

Gold glitters from an extravagant sheathe.

"What?!" the sword exclaims.

"I'm finally free and you're gonna lock me up?

"Surely, you have enemies," the sword sounds excited. "I can teach you things about battle you've never conceived of."

I thank the monk and smoothly sheathe the talking sword.

The blade grumbles as I look at my companion.

She has a smirk on her face.

"Oh, shut up."

News of my claiming of the sacred relic spreads like wildfire.

I put it out of my mind as I find a quiet corner to decompress.

"Why so glum?" the sword asks as I meditate.

"I'm not glum."

"Okay. Okay. It's just, you seem glum."

"I'm not."

I continue my meditation. But, before long, the sword asks, "Don't you have somebody you want to fight?"

The sword keeps babbling as I meditate.

"You know," it says, "you're handling the whole, legendary talking sword, thing differently from how I imagine most people would."

"And, how many people have heard your voice?"

"Oh, lots of people. I've been around a while. But, then, most of the immortals died out. Ironic."

"Immortals?" I find myself surprised by the sword's words.

The age of immortals ended when the gods waged war on humanity.

"Oh, yes. There was Babael, and Methusala, and..."

The sword rattles off name after ancient name.

"What about Askilar?"

"Askilar... hmm. Good kid, that one. He listened to my guidance. You should follow his example."

I feel the sword's will enter my soul.

I come to my feet in alarm.

"Oh, calm down. I'm just looking."

I try to not feel the intrusion as unsettling as it is.

"Your spirit vine is strong. But," the sword pauses to emphasize its point, "you ought to do some pruning. Otherwise, you won't grow very many spirit fruits."

I hadn't thought of any gardening within my soul before.

"What are spirit fruits?"

The sword's will puffs up, "Spirit fruits transcend the immaterial nature of the soul. It is possible to take these fruits out of your soul to consume as you would a normal fruit.

"Doing so will, temporarily, give you a massive boost to your spiritual powers."

I look at the budding fruit with increased anticipation.

"What do you mean by pruning?"

"Ah- little spiritualist, let me be your guide."

I spend several hours caught up in my soul as the sword will guides me.

"The tribe of Los is with us," Ivona says to the gathering.

"But," she continues," there are 11 more cities to liberate from the Jal."

The words hang heavily over the gathering.

This campaign is shaping up to be a long process.

The meeting carries on with various degrees of input.

Finally, the meeting ends and I speak with Ivona.

"You want to go play dog of the Jal. Meridian this campaign is for you."

I look at her incredulously. "No. It's for all of you. I'm not the leader of this horde. I'm the mascot."

Ivona shakes her head from side to side.

"People will die if you're not on the battlefield."

"You're gonna be breaking cities just fine without me.

"I have a life outside of this campaign."

"Oh, right. The life of a pampered little prince."

I look at her with an even gaze. "I will not sacrifice those I love for the kingdom."

She sighs, "Fine, go. Just remember us while you're off playing."

I bow before my friend and move on.

I've been absent from the census work for too long.

As I find my way into the wilderness, I stop by a spring and wash the red dye out of my hair.

With my seal around my neck, I wander off in search of a purpose I had abandoned.

When I do get to my destination, I find no one minded my absence.

It is a good job to lead a double life with.