Baron Vindex, Voice of the Beetle, Commander of the Spire, one of the Pillars of the Free World, and Caeso to his mother, wished that people would stop demanding he talk to them.

He crouched further into the leaves. They crunched under his heels, dying. The beetle, crawling upon the great tree of the world (or, at least, a great tree of the world), ate a little more bark.

“What are you trying to tell me?” The beetles had been writing more and more patterns lately. A bad omen. Perhaps the worst. “Please,” he begged. “The great beetle has been so quiet lately. Have you heard anything?”

The beetle, being a beetle, said nothing.

“Sir,” said his secretary, a second time. “You’ve received a letter.”

“Yes, I know.” He waved a hand behind him. “Put it in the bin with the others. This is important.”

“From the Voice of Teuthida,” continued his secretary. He didn’t remember his name. Did it start with a D? Duilius? “The one who committed arson, sir. And wanted to depose you.”

“Yes, yes, letters should keep her occupied.”

The beetle was crawling upwards. It had abandoned chewing the bark. Was it because Duilius had come to speak to him? Had the Great Work been abandoned? Or had the beetle simply decided he was no longer worthy of communication? Worse, was the very foundation of faith no longer strong enough to support the words drawn in the bark?

“Sir!”

“Oh, get it out of here, Duilius,” he snapped. “Can’t you see the Beetle is attempting to speak to me? To us? This could be the end of the world!”

“This is an invitation, sir. And my name is Lepidus. Duilius was your secretary two secretaries before me.”

“Oh.”

“Anyway, it seems rather time-sensitive, so if you don’t want to read it yourself, I can read it aloud to you. If that wouldn’t disturb the beetles.”

Caeso sat back on his heels, considering it. Who was to know what would disturb the beetles? He didn’t want to listen. Then again, that attempt to depose him the first time had burned down several trees and almost stopped Beetle’s Flight, so… “Fine,” he said. “You may read it aloud to me.”

“Did you want me to do a voice, sir?”

“A voice?”

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“To sound like the Voice of Teuthida, sir. Like-” Lepidus cleared his throat. When he resumed, he was in a falsetto. “Beetle Puppet! I bid you follow my commands-”

Caeso shook his head. “No, no. No! That sounds nothing like her.”

“What about this?” Lepidus’s voice resumed, this time deep and ominous. “You did not take me seriously when I smote your little servant, the foolish bee buzzing around your heels like a puppy. You did not take me seriously when I set your festival aflame and nearly tore your entire world to shreds!”

“No, no, go back to your normal voice. It sounds like you’ve got a cold.”

Lepidus sighed. Caeso glanced at him for a moment. He seemed very tense. Almost annoyed. As if Caeso didn’t pay him for this very job! The nerve. “Go on,” he said. “I thought you were telling me about this letter. Is it not important?”

“I’m just trying to add a little drama,” said Lepidus. “Anyway. Ahem. You even boldly took the blood of a mere child and elevated her newborn goddess, a toddler in the field of divinity, to the pedestal of a queen. No more! I shall-”

“Skip to the important part.” The beetle had crawled back down onto the bark, and was eating again. Could the beetle have something to say? What if it was about the new batch of Imagos he’d approved to send to the north? Would they be successful, fighting against those horrible Scientists?

He shuddered. He hoped they were. If they made it to the capital….

“You stopped talking? Why?” He forced himself to look back over at his secretary. Horrible. Other people were meant to use their eyes for him.

Lepidus held up the papers. It was a rather large stack. “Sorry, sir. Having to read ahead. The Voice of Teuthida has rather a lot to say. Ah, something about massive tidal waves of fury? A tentacle of revenge? Lots of water-based metaphors here, in case you were wondering.”

“As expected.” No one had imagination, in this business. Only Caeso had the strength of mind to interpret the bark, to see the patterns. He stared at the glimmering shell of the beetle, the beautiful play of greens upon the bark. So many futures, contained in such a small creature. All of time, within those lines. Was it anything to wonder at, that people were jealous of his position? They were jockeys for smaller gods, smaller creatures. Obedient to thoughts of squids, of water, of bees, of pickles. They were all nothing, compared to time. To the world itself.

“Sir, did you hear me?”

“What?”

“She wants you to come to a big demonstration. Apparently she’s going to prove everything wrong, and destroy you once and for all? Become the true symbol of faith? It’s going to be in the square tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Caeso sighed. “I thought it would be something important.” Just more dramatics. As expected of that woman. It was shameful, really, who became a Voice these days.

“Sir?” Lepidus coughed. “I can arrange a guard if you’d like. I’ve already cleared your schedule, and if you’d like we can arrange for her to be arrested in time to make sure this demonstration never happens. It looked like she was cooperating with that Paladin’s decree, but it seems with the absence of enforcement she’s become bold. Perhaps some time in lock-up will show otherwise.”

“No, no, no need. There’s nothing she can do that could outdo the divinity of the Beetle.”As he said it, the beetle flicked out its wings and began to fly. Into the canopy. A good omen.

Caeso sighed, stood up. It was time to check the bark. When he turned around, Lepidus was still there. In his sanctuary. Interfering with the beetles. “What?”

“I’m just very worried. What if it’s another attempt to depose you?”

“If you’re so worried, attend yourself. I don’t have time to worry about the present at the moment.” Caeso reached forward, removed the bark delicately. It was so smooth, it nearly jumped into his hand. “I am attempting to fix the future.”