Of course, calling it a duel is actually a bit of a misnomer. Duel implies a battle, one which is fought until surrender or death, whereas a ritual duel is often anything but. It may not in fact be a fight at all, but is usually a series of agreed-upon contests—

“Yeah, can we maybe have this conversation another time?” Callan said, the words little more than a growl from the side of his mouth. Still, Xeph went silent immediately. He breathed a sigh of relief.

It was dark throughout the village of Aos now. Alyssa led them down mostly deserted streets, though they occasionally passed a yeth coming the opposite direction. Alyssa would exchange a friendly word or two before ushering her charges onward. Twice, Callan caught the villagers looking back after them curiously, but otherwise their presence elicited little comment.

“This shall be your house for the duration of your stay here in the village, Av—” the yeth woman bit her tongue just before she could go further. A flush spread up her cheeks.

“Callan is fine,” he said quickly. She smiled at him in gratitude.

“My apologies. Until we can determine who is to be trusted, it is best to keep a low profile.”

“You’ll hear no complaints from me.” He turned to Kivi and gestured to the front door. “After you.”

“Actually, we have separate accommodations for the lud at the edge of the village,” Alyssa said hastily. “It would appear unusual if we kept them in the same building as a yeth refugee, don’t you think?”

“Oh. Uh, sure.” Callan watched as the woman led Kivi and the brothers away into the dark. When they disappeared from sight, he turned back to the building.

The ruse that Belinda had suggested was a simple one. Officially, Callan was a yeth survivor of some war to the north who had fled to the Badlands for safety. He had met the lud Etruscian traders, who had led him to Aos. It would help explain their arriving at the same time, as well as any passing camaraderie witnessed by the villagers.

Honestly, Callan thought it was all overkill, but he’d had too much else on his mind to bother arguing the point with the mayor.

“Alright, begin again from the top,” he said as he closed the door. It was dark inside. A bit of fumbling around revealed a bed in one corner and a small table by the window, but no lamp or other source of light. With nothing better to do, he flopped onto the bed.

Belinda wishes you to challenge Veritas to a ritual duel for possession of the plateau. Typically, this is done as a trio of challenges—one chosen by yourself, one by the opposing avatar, and one by a neutral party. Although I suspect finding anyone who counts as neutral in this community may prove difficult.

“Three challenges? You sure it’s not just two? I could have sworn you said it was only two.”

What? Where did you get a ridiculous notion like that?

Callan grinned. “Well, you do keep saying it’s a dual.”

There was silence for a moment. Then, Let us hope that one of the challenges is not a joke-telling contest. Or we will be in great trouble, indeed.

“Oh, hah hah. I thought it was hilarious.” He turned to the window, where there was a hint of moonlight. The last vestige of the Cavalier moon, probably. Or there was a whole new moon beginning to work its way in their direction. With his luck, it was the latter, and he’d have to deal with flooded streets along with an angry avatar.

What is bothering you, mortal? And do not try and tell me it is nothing. Even if I couldn’t sense your surface emotions, you only tell terrible jokes like that when you’re trying to distract yourself.

“I’m that easy to read to read, am I?”

When I live in your head, yes.

“It’s just... didn’t that feel a bit rushed back there?” Callan sat up, letting his feet swing back to the floor. “Kivi and the mayor were shaking hands before we even knew the full extent of the situation.”

Hmm. So you would have refused to render aid until all facts were known? Xeph asked.

“I mean, I guess not. But—”

Tell me, is there anything you could have heard from the yeth woman that would have changed your mind from its course? Anything that would have forced you to gather our priests and flee across the plateau?

Callan frowned. “No, but—”

Then is it our high priestess you doubt? Do you mistrust her ability to negotiate, even when all factors are yet unrevealed? Should we have demanded that she withhold engaging with Aos until you felt more certain that our plan was viable, that success was all but guaranteed?

“No. I trust Kivi’s judgement.” He glanced over. In the dark his bag was little more than a shadowy lump. “And I still think it’s a solid plan. Without knowing anything about this Veritas beforehand, it’s still our best chance.”

Then our path was already set, even before negotiations began. Besides, even should this god prove several tiers above us in strength—which, given the limited population to draw upon here, seems doubtful—we are still not without options for defeating them. A ritual duel presents further opportunities as well. Assuming...

“Yes?”

Duels were often used to settle disputes in the past, primarily because whatever victory terms the two of you agree upon are binding to both gods. A useful tool to force a being that is otherwise above the law to obey another’s will. Should we get this Veritas to agree, they will have no choice but to leave the plateau upon their defeat.

However, only the agreed upon terms are binding, not the offer of a duel itself. Meaning that the challenged god can simply refuse to participate. And because their varied nature tends to level the playing field between stronger and weaker gods, if for some reason this Veritas is much more powerful than we suspect, there is a every chance they will simply refuse to duel us outright. In which case, more... barbaric methods may be required.

“I guess we’ll have to hope he isn’t too powerful, then,” Callan said.

Indeed. Another reason it is prudent to keep our true identity hidden for as long as possible. Until we are in a position to land a strike which guarantees us victory, we are vulnerable. You must tread carefully here, mortal.

“When don’t I?” Rolling over, Callan closed his eyes. From within his head, Xeph let out a deep chuckle that he chose to pointedly ignore.

----------------------------------------

Daylight through the window woke Callan well after sunrise, but still earlier than he’d have liked. Still, if he was going to pretend to be a migrant looking for a place to call home, he couldn’t very well lie in bed all day.

He scrubbed himself clean in a washbasin he found on the table, then proceeded to get dressed in the cleanest clothes he had on him—more of the purple not-priest robes he’d found in his predecessor’s room. With luck, no one in the village would think him any more than an oddity from up north, if he understood the part he was playing correctly.

Shortly after he finished, there was a knock at the door. Kivi stood waiting outside, the two lud brothers standing a short distance away. The girl peered past him into the room, and her eyebrows rose appreciably.

“Hmm. Much larger than the accommodations set aside for visiting lud. Though I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. It seems being half as tall means half the breathing room as well.”

“Morning High—” Callan caught himself, coughed to cover his slip, then continued, “Kivi. I take it your rooms weren’t to your liking?”

“In truth, they were more than sufficient on my first visit.” She glanced quickly behind her. “I think my current company may have colored my opinion this time around.”

Callan glanced past her, to where Sworv was currently muttering something too low to make out to his brother. Based on his expression, however, he doubted it was anything polite.

“It’s getting worse, is it?”

“Unfortunately.”

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

He nodded, wondering idly what the best solution was. It wouldn’t do to have the brothers jeopardize the mission, but separating them came with its own set of issues.

Fortunately, he was spared the difficulty of making a decision by Alyssa’s sudden appearance.

“Ah, good morning.” Kivi gave a polite bow. The woman nodded nervously in return. If it weren’t for the fact that she and Belinda looked so similar, Callan would never have known they were related. The two couldn’t have been more different in personality.

“Mayor Belinda sends her regrets that she’ll be unable to meet with you this morning. Unfortunately, Widow Ulfa has come down ill, and my mother was forced to take her place as our creche schoolteacher. She requests both of you join her for dinner this evening instead.”

“That is most unfortunate indeed,” Kivi said. “I had hoped we might be able to discuss our... business with the village in greater detail. There was much still to cover when we parted last night.”

“I understand your frustration, but do not worry. There is still plenty of time left before you need concern yourself with... certain matters.”

“You mean like Veritas showing up?” Callan asked.

Alyssa winced visibly and glanced at several of the nearby houses. They all appeared quiet, but she still lowered her voice before she continued. “Yes, exactly. He last spoke in the village square two days ago, so it is likely to be several more before he returns. That has been his pattern so far.”

“Very well. In that case I think I will take some time to wander the village,” Kivi said. A quiet smirk played across her face. “All the better to know what goods we might return with to sell.”

“Should I go out and help in the field, or something?” Callan asked Alyssa. The yeth woman shook her head.

“No. My brother has already spread word of your arrival, and that you have been hired to assist him with the harvest, but that you are exhausted from your harried journey south. No one will question your idling about the village today.”

“Huh. In that case, I might as well get the lay of the land, too. Kivi, shall we?”

“Actually, I was thinking it might be best to explore separately.” The lud girl gestured around them. “Easier to cover more ground, yes?”

Before Callan could respond, she added, “And why don’t you take Sworv with you, for... protection. He has grown so fond of you over the course of our journey.”

“That’s—” He caught the gleam in Kivi’s eye and stopped himself from what he’d been about to say. Instead, “Of course. I appreciate the bodyguard. Sworv, I guess you’re with me.”

“Very good. I’ll see you at supper this evening, Callan.” There was a smirk on Kivi’s face, but it disappeared so quick it might have only been his imagination. Turning, she set off towards the village center, Paeral on her heels.

Callan watched her for a moment before turning back to his remaining companion. “Shall we?”

“Of course, my—ah, that is, most esteemed—honored, um, yeth. I go where you go.”

It took all of Callan’s effort not to sigh.

----------------------------------------

Since Kivi had headed into the village center, Callan skirted its edges instead. Not that there was much to skirt. There were maybe twenty houses total in the whole of Aos.

And he’d thought the lud village had been rather small. Though everything he’d seen of Outerworld civilization so far was by Earth standards. Even Othello had been bigger.

Which was saying something, considering he was pretty sure cows outnumbered people in Othello.

Past the village itself were its fields, and as he walked Callan occasionally caught a glimpse of someone working their way through them, weeding or tilling or whatever the hell it was farmers did once their crops were nearly full grown. Honestly, he had no idea.

A few people noticed him and Sworv, stopping their work to watch as he passed. Callan waved at them, but the yeth never returned the gesture. Maybe waving wasn’t a thing in the Outerworld? He thought about asking Xeph but didn’t feel comfortable doing so with Sworv lurking in his shadow.

Speaking of the lud, Callan turned and glanced down at his faux bodyguard. “You don’t have to walk behind me, you know. The yeth probably think that looks odd. Just walk next to me.”

“Forgive me, Ava—honored yeth. But I think many would think it presumptuous for a lud to walk beside you. Especially being Daisa, as I am.”

“But you aren’t Daisa anymore, Sworv.”

“Ah, but they do not know that.”

Callan resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “They don’t know you were originally Daisa, either. If anything, they probably think you’re Etruscian, traveling out here as you are. Wouldn’t that be an acceptable caste to walk beside a yeth with whom you have business?”

There was a moment’s silence from Sworv. Then, “Yes, I suppose that makes sense.”

He moved alongside Callan. Together they walked in silence past the fields. Callan glanced at a pair of yeth working nearby, wishing he’d asked Alyssa what the proper etiquette here was. Would they think it strange if he approached them and asked a few questions?

If their somber attitude towards his waving was any indication, that seemed likely. Still, how else was he supposed to try and gather information? It felt like a wasted opportunity.

“Avatar?” Sworv’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. “May I ask you something?”

“You can always ask. But call me Callan, at least as long as we’re in the village, alright?”

Sworv’s eyes went wide at his slip. Callan waved it away—it wasn’t like any of the villagers were that close. “You needed something?”

“Ah, yes. It is just... I found myself rather surprised by last night’s revelation. Of all the reasons to travel to the Aosan plateau, I was not expecting the presence of another avatar.”

Callan paused, glancing at the lud out of the corner of his eye. It didn’t look as if Sworv was angry, but then again, he was constantly relearning what he thought he knew about people in this world.

“Listen, Sworv...” Already he had an explanation prepared. About how he and Kivi hadn’t wanted to worry them unduly until they understood the situation themselves. That at least was the partial truth. Telling the older lud they’d been afraid that he and Paeral might run off before they reached Aos probably wouldn’t go over as well.

“It is not my place to judge, of course,” Sworv went on, “But if you were worried I would mention it to my brother, your fears were groundless. I am not so tactless as to do something so foolish.”

“Yeah, I knew that—wait. What about Paeral?” Now Callan was utterly confused.

“It was wise of you to keep our true purpose from my brother, unreliable as he is.” The lud didn’t appear to notice Callan’s confusion. “I just wanted you to know that I am aware of his failings. You can trust such secrets to me.”

“Oh. Um. Right. I’ll remember that. For the future. For future... secrets.” He wasn’t sure what else to say, but his response seemed to satisfy Sworv. The lud nodded, then settled in to walk alongside. They made their way to the edge of the last field, with a thicket of overgrown trees lying just beyond.

“What is our plan now?” Sworv glanced back the way they had come. “Should we attempt to speak with some of the villagers?”

“I dunno. None of them exactly gave me ‘it’s totally okay to approach me during work hours’ vibes back there.”

Sworv nodded. “It seems the stories I have been told about the yeth my entire life are truer than I expected.” His eyes darted to Callan, and he gave a quick cough. “Of course, I am glad that you appear to be the exception. Our community is in good hands, thanks to—”

“You don’t need to butter me up, Sworv. I’m aware I’m different.” Callan shook his head. He was starting to worry about the low-key racism going on between the lud and yeth. Far as he could tell, neither seemed that different from humans to him.

Then again, humanity back on Earth hadn’t exactly been a bastion of tolerance and acceptance, either. He knew that from personal experience well enough.

“I don’t think I’ll bother any of them right now,” he continued. “Besides, I owe Xeph some more training. Let’s go find a quiet spot removed from the village so I can practice. You mind playing lookout?”

“It would be my honor,” Sworv said with a bow. Looking over him, Callan saw a small yeth boy watching them. He grimaced.

“Yeah, maybe save the bowing for when we’re out of sight of the village.”

They ducked into the trees, fighting back the undergrowth while Callan looked for a relatively clear place to work. Instead, after a few minutes they emerged again at the edge of a small lake.

“Huh. Wasn’t expecting to see that.” Callan stared at the water, which lapped quietly at the mossy bank. A short ways out, he spotted a few boats, the yeth inside casting lines into the water. So, a big enough lake to support fish, at least. Not what he’d expected to see on a plateau, but hardly the strangest sight he’d encountered this week.

He and Sworv followed the lake’s edge until the way forward was blocked by a rushing river, too deep to attempt to cross. Glancing back, Callan could no longer see the boats.

“This is as good a place to practice as any,” he said, leading them a short distance back into the trees, far enough that they’d still be hidden from view if a villager happened to drift this direction. Finding a relatively secluded but still open spot, he set to work.

First, Xeph led him through his usual breathing activities, followed by some light Mountainform manipulation. Callan was steadily growing more confident, and even attempted walking back and forth as he shifted the stone coating his arms. He still needed his eyes closed, though, which limited the skill’s usefulness. Still, Xeph seemed pleased by the continued progress.

Next, they moved on to Wurmchain. Callan successfully transferred the spike all the way from the top of the chain to the bottom and back again, but that was where his progress stopped.

Just like every time before, the power rising around him like mist refused to obey his commands. He could see it, he could feel it, but try as he might, he couldn’t control it.

Calm yourself, mortal. You’re trying to force something that cannot be forced. Study the power, come to understand it fully, and only then will you be able to manipulate it as you wish.

“I know, I know.” Callan did his best to relax. He watched through closed eyes as glowing strands of power rose about him, some undulating, some so still he would have thought them little more than tricks his mind was playing on him. Even just watching them made him feel slightly off.

Before he grew too nauseous, he focused his attention elsewhere.

There, at his feet in front of him, lay a ball of condensed energy—Wurmchain’s spike. Above that, his own powers floated like tiny orbs of white light inside him, condensed and glowing brightly. And off to one side, several other balls hovered where Sworv stood guard, their light slightly dimmer than his own.

“Hey, Xeph, what’s up with the—”

Something flickered in his non-vision. Callan shifted his attention and noticed another glow several feet in front of himself. Not balls of light like his own, but a jumbled mass of confusing lines all woven together. They gave off a dim gray light, barely noticeable.

He opened his eyes. Where he’d detected the gray mass before, all he saw was a pair of trees, grown so close together they’d long since intertwined their branches until it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.

And from behind them, a flicker of movement.

“Hello?” Callan called. Immediately, Sworv spun in his direction, hands raised.

No one responded. Callan took a step forward. “Is someone there?”

From behind the tree, a small figure burst forward. Callan instinctively raised the Wurmchain he was holding, but the figure didn’t charge at him, instead rushing off in the other direction. They slipped through the trees and were gone.

Callan lowered Wurmchain. “Huh. Talk about déjà vu. Two watchers in as many days. Got to be some sort of record.”

I still don’t grasp exactly what that term means, Xeph grumbled.

“Avatar? Should I go after them?” Sworv asked. Like Callan, he was now clutching his own Wurmchain.

“No offense, Sworv, but are you in any shape to even catch them?” Callan couldn’t help but grin, remembering the older lud huffing and puffing his way through most of the journey to Aos.

“I—”

From a short distance away, there came a sudden scream, followed by a splash. A moment later, more screams followed.

“Never mind,” Callan said with a sigh. “Seems we’d better follow them after all.”