Chapter Sixteen: Dealing with Teenage Boys

Rhylix

Since our disastrous experiment, I’ve been trapped in Corruption’s sway.

After the display with the tear two days ago, I could say, without a doubt, that this latest ally terrified me. When we’d been beneath the mountain, I’d run after Raimie, unsure what the hell the kid had been doing, and when he’d stuck his hand into a godsdamn tear…

Oh, my poor heart had just about stopped. I’d thought our quest was over and done with before it could truly begin, but then, Raimie had started… he’d started…

Gods, seeing tendrils of light and dark streaming from the tear to him had been an awe-inspiring moment, easily within the top ten events in my life, and Raimie had topped it off by doing something that I’d never seen before. I was still unsure about exactly what he’d done, but the appearance of that silvery mist, a small window into what lay beneath, in his cupped hands anchored the seedlings of hope in my shell of a heart, and finally, finally, I let myself think of a question that I’d left untouched for forever.

Could I use this to end the cycle?

Either way, sitting next to this teenager had my heart pounding in my ears with my mouth a dry desert, which was an interesting experience. I hadn’t felt like this in… gods. I couldn’t remember the last time.

“That’s an interesting look on you.”

Glancing up at my constant nuisance, I somehow contained a smirk.

“You’re one to talk,” I said.

Its Eselan guise had cracked, nearly revealing the creature of light hidden beneath, and it was trembling, clearly struggling to stay anchored on this plane. I might be more concerned by this if I hadn’t seen Raimie’s splinters—I still couldn’t wrap my mind around him having two—in this state.

Still. I had to ask.

“Should I be worried? Has Entropy gotten the upper hand?”

Glaring, my constant nuisance hissed, “If it had, would we be talking right now? Answer? No. I’d be running around this iteration with my brethren, fighting to stabilize its rate of deterioration. Will you ask a useful question now?

Having pulled away from it, I raised my eyebrows, merely blinking for a moment, and when my constant nuisance didn’t start fretting over its anomalous behavior, those eyebrows rose higher.

This sassiness was new. I begrudgingly liked it, which was strange. My relationship with this being had been steeped in hostility for so long that I wasn’t sure how to handle a positive emotion getting added to the mix.

“Well, I’m glad we’re not dying faster than we normally would. Good job, you,” I sarcastically said. “Mind telling me what the hell Raimie did with the tear?”

My constant nuisance’s face closed off.

“He closed it,” was all it would say.

“Yes… I saw that,” I said. “I was more interested in how he did that. Has anyone else closed a tear, or is he the first? And what did he do with the energies that he pulled to him? Did he combine them? Is that even possible? Have you stuck me with an ally who can break reality this time?”

For a long while, my constant nuisance said nothing, holding its typical motionlessness to an extreme. Then, it shifted, looking over my head.

“You’ve asked many questions of me,” it said.

They were all things that I’d thought necessary to ask, ways to learn if my hope could become more than a seedling, and the fact that my constant nuisance wouldn’t easily answer them was souring any enjoyment I might have taken from its changed mood. Based on its shuffling, I’d have to press harder to get what I wanted, so I readied myself and deliberately said my constant nuisance’s name.

“Creation.”

When a familiar face, riddled with cracks, whipped to me, I released a breath.

“I need these answers.”

I wouldn’t beg for them, wouldn’t lower myself to that indignity, but Creation would know what I was really saying.

Crossing its arms, it picked at the frayed fabric covering its elbow.

“So far as I know, no one has closed a reality rip,” it said, “and your ally isn’t breaking reality. Merging the wholes isn’t unheard of.”

Helpful.

“Why are you being so difficult?” I asked. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re hiding something from me.”

Gasping, Creation took a step back.

“Obscuring the truth is of the enemy,” it breathed. “It doesn’t matter if my access to the whole has been diminished. I need… I need to return there!”

“No. Wait! Don’t-”

Creation vanished, and groaning, I thunked my head against a tree truck. It had been acting somewhat tolerable again, but when it eventually returned to this plane, it would be back to acting like a constant nuisance.

Oh, well.

Leaning against the tree, I peered down my nose at the boy beside me.

Raimie had mentioned that he had questions for me? Well, I felt the same confused curiosity about him.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t sure if my questions would be answered anytime soon. In fact, I was very much aware that Raimie had no idea he was causing these questions, and because of this, I wasn’t sure if I could ask them.

It was amazing that such a peacefully sleeping face could stand at the center of the complete rearrangement of my life.

“He doesn’t look crazy.”

Jerking my head up, I found the owner of that voice, standing just outside of my reach.

“I’d hoped that his ability to mess with a tear would make losing to him hurt less, but… I suppose I was being optimistic. I’ll have to look elsewhere.”

“Dath?” I said.

Scrambling to my feet, I stood over Raimie, and while I didn’t lay a hand on a weapon, the Zrelnach trainee shrunk away from me as though scolded, hiding a sword behind his back.

“Hello,” he awkwardly said.

“What are you doing here?” I said. “And… where are your splints?”

Oh. Since I’d been given the opportunity, I should probably shore up my ally’s credibility too.

“Also, he’s not crazy. Probably just addled from what happened beneath the mountain.”

Clasping his elbow, Dath said, “Whatever you say, Rhy. But why are you so surprised to see me? Did you really think I’d stay in Allanovian? No way was I missing this once in a lifetime expedition.”

‘Even if it’s led by him?’

Almost, I said this out loud, but adding to the antagonism between the boys didn’t seem wise, especially when we’d be traveling through open country for quite a while.

“And your splints?” I asked instead.

“You told me to remove them when fighting the human,” Dath said. “I thought the same would hold true for our fight.”

Hell. I’d hoped the trainee would forget about that. Ah, well. Maybe if I feigned ignorance of it, Dath would let it go.

Furrowing my brow, I said, “What do you mean?”

Dath cocked his head.

“You promised I could test myself against you,” he said. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”

“Right,” I said, sighing. “Forgive me. I was planning to honor my promise after the initial chaos of travel subsides, but with what happened at the tear, it slipped my mind.”

“I can’t blame you for that.”

The teeth of Dath’s grin flashed in the limited moonlight.

“You were fixing up quite a few people afterward. I don’t know how you managed the tempers of so many wounded Zrelnach. They can’t have been pleasant to you.”

“I’ve had plenty of practice with irritable people. Trust me,” I said with a soft laugh. “And I had help.”

Thank the gods for Chela. I wasn’t sure why that healer had left her comfortable life in Allanovian behind, but I was beyond grateful that she had.

The conflict beside the tear might have been short—perhaps a minute at most—but it had ended with far more casualties than anyone would have liked. Aside from the handful who’d been dead before I could get to them, another two had perished while I’d been tending to them, bringing back far too many unpleasant memories, and they’d made me distracted.

I wasn’t sure if Chela had seen this, but she’d jumped in to assist me, and with her help, our group had escaped that dark cavern within a few hours.

“Well, this is me, reminding you of your promise,” Dath said.

He drew the sword at his side—a standard issued Zrelnach blade—while offering me the one he was holding. Pursing my lips, I stared at the weapon for a moment, running through my options, but in the end, everything I contrived to escape this path wouldn’t be worth the effort of trying it. I took the sword, leaving my own blade and dagger where I’d hidden them.

“Let’s not do this here,” I said. “We wouldn’t want to hurt any bystanders, would we?”

Dath didn’t react to what I’d said. Maybe he was trying to be the better man, relinquishing any lingering hatred that he might feel toward our quest’s leader. He’d certainly seemed eager enough about joining it.

Once we’d moved far enough away, I rounded on Dath, getting in his face.

“What are you hoping to gain from this?” I asked. “Would you like to see how far you’ve come in your training, or do you want to learn something? When it comes to a fight, I can provide you with almost anything that you could ask for, but I need to know what you want from me first.”

Leaning back, Dath blinked for a moment before stepping away.

“You realize how arrogant that makes you sound, right?” he said.

But there was no acid in his voice, merely curiosity to match the tilt of his head.

“You’re, what? Twenty-four, twenty-five? No one that young should show such confidence with a sword.”

Swallowing a sigh, I retreated a few paces, scanning my surroundings.

“I’m twenty-seven, actually. I think,” I said, “and you didn’t answer the question.”

Shaking his head, Dath tossed his sword’s scabbard away.

“I want to see for myself how good you are. From what our trainers say, you were the virtuoso of your class. With Lyli… I’m the best in mine,” he said. “I want to know if the hu- if Raimie besting me was a fluke, but mostly, I want to see if I have a chance against you.”

Great… Like most boys Dath’s age, he had contradictory desires: wanting a confidence boost while also having someone prove their superiority over him. I couldn’t oblige both wants, and while this kid seemed nice enough, I had more than one person’s wellbeing to consider when making this decision. As always, my ally’s safety took priority over almost everything else, and because of that, I’d use this fight to show Dath—a potential hostile—what sort of protector Raimie had.

“All right,” I said. “Whenever you’re ready.”

With the branches overhead bobbing, moonlight revealed the trainee’s consternation in a swaying sweep.

“Don’t you need to stretch?” he asked “Warm up or something? At least draw your sword.”

I let one corner of my mouth lift.

“I’m good. Whenever you’re ready.”

Huffing, Dath said, “Fine.”

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

He charged me, but of course he did. When one didn’t know the abilities of one’s opponent, Zrelnach training taught that one shouldn’t waste time feeling out their skills. Although one should always look for other openings, one’s best bet was to overwhelm one’s opponent, especially when one was a warrior in the finest fighting force found on this side of the Narrow Sea.

As soon as Dath took off, I cast sparking illusions into his path, which he ignored. Impressive. Most people flinched at a sudden change in their environment, like flashing light.

It was no matter, though. The sparks hadn’t been meant to veer Dath from his path but to mess with his night vision.

But then, he was on me. With practiced precision, I blocked Dath’s sword, using the hilt of my sheathed weapon. Grabbing the boy’s wrist, I flicked my blade, and Dath’s weapon was jerked out of his hand.

Giving him no time to react, I spun, leveraging the kid over my shoulder to slam him into the ground. With him laid out like this, I could easily finish it here, but I was trying to make a point. So, I released my hold on his wrist.

Of course, Dath scrambled to his feet, making for his sword, but before he took more than two steps, he tripped over the root system of a nearby tree, a detail most likely missed because of his ruined night vision. With my toe, I flipped Dath onto his back and rested the tip of my sword on the hollow of his neck.

“Do you yield?” I asked.

With his shoulders heaving, Dath glared at me with glistening eyes, but he slowly nodded.

Damn. The expression on that boy’s face. I hadn’t mean to hurt him and…

Hell. There went my fucking heart with its twinges again, bidding me to fix this. It was going to get me in trouble one of these days.

On backing away, I summoned the boy’s sword, holding both blades in one hand.

“I’ll hold onto these for now,” I said. “You can retrieve them when you join me and Raimie for training in two days.”

Dath, sitting up with his hands on his knees, tensed.

“What?” he said between his thighs and his chest.

“You have potential, and yes, you’re ready to become a full Zrelnach. You could probably ask Commander Ferin for a second trial in the field, and she’d grant it,” I said, “but I can make you better first.”

Gradually, Dath raised his head, simply staring at me.

“I’m teaching Raimie how to fight,” I continued. “If you like and if you’re willing to work alongside an ‘evil human’, you could take advantage of my lessons. I think they could help you, like I think Raimie will surprise you, Dath. You two have a lot in common, and you could learn from each other.”

A curiously blank expression had fallen over Dath, one that sent a shiver up my spine. I’d seen this look before—of course I had—but I couldn’t recall the last time it had happened.

But then, Dath broke into a spunky grin, erasing my unease, and I filed the incident under things to be investigated later.

“Why not?” he said. “At the least, it’ll keep me busy. I can’t- I can’t be idle, Rhy.”

He looked away, and I resisted the urge to slap myself. That was why Dath had collected on my promise tonight. It was why, now that I took the time to look, he looked so worn out. He was grieving. How had he slept since Lyli had died?

Fishing through a pocket, I winced at the small number of vials left there. I’d have to brew more tinctures soon, what with Raimie blowing through my supply.

Offering one to Dath, I said, “Here. This’ll help you sleep.”

Cautiously, the kid got to his feet before accepting the vial.

“Thanks, Rhy,” he said.

“No problem,” I said. “Now, go use it. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow, but I expect your presence two days hence, when we set up camp. I’m sure someone can direct you to where Raimie and I will be.”

With his eyes fixed on his hands, Dath tightened his grip on the vial, making me worry that he’d break it.

“Seriously. Thank you,” he said. “And I’m sorry.”

Frowning, I asked, “For what?”

With a sigh, Dath lifted his head to the sky, letting moonlight bathe his face.

“I don’t know yet,” he said. “Good night, Rhy.”

As he picked his way toward the greater group, I watched him go. What had that been about?

Shaking my head, I made my way to Raimie before settling beside him, preparing to keep watch for the night.

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

The morning’s march was slow and hard. As we traveled through the forest on this side of the Fractured Peaks, those injured beside the tear required a languid pace, and from what little I’d seen of him, Eledis seemed incensed by this slowdown, snapping at anyone who spoke to him.

Conversely, Aramar acted as if something horrific would appear at any moment, but whenever an argument broke out about our speed, he always sided with the healers’ expressed desire to keep the wounded stable.

Even with him trying to hide it, I knew he had his own reasons for this, namely that his integration with the machine from the tear wasn’t going as well as we’d hoped. After seeing Aramar wince throughout the morning, I’d had to bite my tongue when I was around him. I couldn’t keep questioning my patient every time he stumbled or his arm flailed out of control. No, what I really needed was to have him sit down, long enough for me to adjust the machine.

The only other reason for our slow pace kept confounding the people helping him, but for the most part, those same people seemed to expect that, when it came to Raimie, they’d be living with befuddlement now. After last night, most people in the group had accepted that the kid just wasn’t normal. I wasn’t sure how well Eledis and Aramar’s story about Raimie’s ‘speech’ had sold, but no one had spoken a word about it this morning, nor were they avoiding him. Considering how he’d been acting, this was good.

I’d never seen such wild fluctuations in someone’s mood or energy levels before, not in such a short time period at least. In one moment, the kid was absolutely manic, jittering and chattering so fast that it made my head hurt, and in the next, he was sluggish, sniping at people and barely holding it together. At one point, he’d been so drained that two Zrelnach had had to carry him, like they had between the tear and the forest.

Considering how Raimie had closed the tear, I was pretty sure that his behavior was related to that, but I hadn’t gotten the chance to question him about it yet.

Right now, Raimie was sitting with his family, eating the midday meal, with the plains we’d recently entered stretching on all sides. Watching them, I absently nibbled on a piece of flatbread, ignoring the tense atmosphere hovering over the rest of the group.

The first of those people was lounging a few paces away from me. If a conflict erupted, I should be able to reach the kid’s side before anything could hurt him. Everything should be fine.

Right?

A shadow fell over me.

“May I join you?”

Never removing my gaze from Raimie, I said, “Of course, Ferin.”

Snorting, the commander of the Zrelnach flopped to the ground beside me.

“It’s creepy that you do that, you know,” she said. “How do you always know who’s sneaking up on you?”

“Practice,” I said. “In Auden, you’re dead if you don’t learn that skill early on.”

Ferin was quiet for a while, long enough that I’d started ignoring her, but eventually, she spoke up.

“Are you sure you want to go home?”

Freezing halfway through a bite, I turned to her at the speed of a glacier, moving across the waters of the northern Narrow Sea.

“Do not ask me that,” I said.

Softly laughing, Ferin settled back on her hands.

“Should’ve figured you’d answer that way,” she said.

I narrowed my eyes. Withdrawn and melancholy? These weren’t Ferin. She was cheery and brash, a ray of sunshine when around people who didn’t irritate the shit out of her, and so godsdamn canny at times that it scared me. Besides occasionally pushing me for sexual favors, she’d been nothing but pleasant company since I’d arrived in Allanovian, so what was this? Was she already missing home?

“Is something wrong?” I asked.

Rubbing her face, Ferin said, “No. It’s just stress, Rhy. I promise.”

Slapping her hand to her leg, she faced me.

“Trainee Dath told me about how you wiped the forest floor with him last night,” she said.

I squeezed my eyes closed, deflating as I returned to watching the kid.

“I had to,” I said. “He’s a possible threat to Raimie, and Raimie is my-”

“I know what the kid is,” Ferin interrupted, “even if that fact has yet to penetrate his thick skull. In his mind, he’s still a peasant boy.”

“He has time for it to sink in,” I said. “Auden is far from here.”

“Mm.”

Together, we watched Raimie laugh at someone’s joke, throwing his head back until he fell into the grass.

“So, him and Dath,” Ferin said. “You mean to teach them together, even if my trainee might be a threat?”

“I’m hoping it’ll bring the boys together,” I said. “Both of them are hurting, and Raimie desperately needs a friend.”

“From what I hear, you’re his friend.”

Making a face, I said, “He needs a friend who can relate to him more than I’ll be able to.”

Ferin blew out a slow breath.

“Ok,” she said in a small voice before clearing her throat. “Ok. That makes sense. You do realize that Raimie is my student too, right?”

“And you can teach him all the subjects that I refused to study during Zrelnach training,” I said, “but I’m the better fighter of us, Ferin, and he needs the best.”

Even watching Raimie nod along to his father’s words, I could feel Ferin glaring at me.

“Fine,” she growled. “You’re right, much as it galls me to admit it.”

From out of nowhere, genuine laughter slammed into me, and no matter that it was soft, I marveled at it. An honest noise like this hadn’t come from me in… I didn’t know how long.

Ferin didn’t notice. Considering I’d perfected the art of faking emotions long ago, this didn’t surprise me. It did make my chest tighten, though.

“So, did you only come here to ask about the brats we’re responsible for?” I eventually asked. “Or is there more?”

“There’s more, and you know it,” Ferin said. “Throughout the morning, Eledis and I have been discussing our path, now that we’re free of the Fractured Peaks.”

“Mm. That’s good,” I said. “We have several options for reaching Sev, after all. We’re heading for the closest town first, right? Hopefully, we can resupply there, or do so as much as we can, at least.”

Nodding, Ferin said, “That’s the plan. But after that… Rhy, Eledis wants to take us through the Withriingalm.”

“He wants to WHAT?”

At the outburst, several people, including Raimie, jerked their heads to me and Ferin. Frowning, the kid said something to his family before getting to his feet, and I flipped to face the Zrelnach commander.

“That’s a bad idea, and you have to make him see it,” I hissed. “Yes, the route would probably keep Doldimar’s minions off of our trail for a while but-”

“I know how dangerous that cursed swamp is, Rhy,” Ferin said. “I’ll do everything I can to convince him to choose a different path, but I wanted to warn you in case… in case I can’t.”

Staring at her, I tried to clear the fist in my throat. Normally, I wouldn’t find traversing the Withriingalm that concerning. Most of the ‘danger’ associated with it was mere superstition, but I was traveling with an ally who’d proven that he attracted danger. Adding more of it to what he’d already face seemed unwise, to put it kindly.

“You ok, Rhy?”

I looked up at Raimie, taking in the concern radiating from him, and I knew that, somehow, I was going to get this kid killed.

“I’m fine,” I said. “Why do you ask?”

When Raimie shifted his gaze to the woman at my side, I relaxed a little. I’d forgotten how much Ferin disgruntled my friend. Considering I’d never told him how close I was to the commander, he probably thought she was harassing me. Ferin must have come to the same conclusion because chuckling, she got to her feet.

“I’ll let you two talk.”

As she left, I realized that I was alone with Raimie—or as alone as one could get out here—for the first time since leaving Allanovian, and I was abruptly grateful that I’d chosen to eat so far from the group.

“Will you join me?” I asked, extending a hand in front of me.

While Raimie made himself comfortable, I nibbled on the remains of my flatbread, wondering how I’d go about having The Conversation with this latest, utterly perplexing ally.

But perhaps that one could wait. Perhaps instead, I should explain a truth that had become a death sentence more often than not in recent years.

Crossing his legs, Raimie clasped his hands in his lap.

“So?” he said.

Taking a sip of air, I said. “So, what?”

“So…” Raimie said, leaning forward. “Will you answer my question about Silverblade? Or did you think I’d forgotten about it?”

There. That was a good place to start from.

“Somehow, I doubt you’d forget about a question like that,” I said, chuckling. “But in answer, I had Silverblade made for you because in the future, you won’t be wielding Shadowsteal much. Except for in special circumstances, that is.”

Motion fled Raimie while that same dangerous aura from our first meeting crept into him.

“What do you mean?” he stiffly said.

Ah. So, he knew about Shadowsteal. Poor boy probably thought I was about to call him crazy or something equally as bad.

“Hey.”

Carefully, I laid a hand on Raimie’s knee.

“You don’t have to fear me. I am your friend, and you can’t know how sacred I find that bond. I will never intentionally hurt you. You’re safe here.”

Bit by bit, Raimie relaxed, and animation returned to him.

“Ok,” he said. “My question?”

“Well… have you touched Shadowsteal?” I asked. “Aside from during your first trial, of course.”

I still wasn’t sure how he’d used the blade as a normal person would during that fight.

Frowning, Raimie said, “Yes, and it was weird. When I touched it, the world went all… wonky.”

“That’s because Shadowsteal isn’t a normal sword,” I said. “A certain type of person is meant to wield it.”

Sucking on my teeth, I considered how to phrase my next words. They would change Raimie’s life, and if history was any example to go by, it wouldn’t be for the better.

“What type of person?” Raimie drawled.

No. This revelation needed further background information before I could explain it. The kid might not believe me otherwise.

“A bit of a subject change, but I swear it has something to do with your question,” I said.

When Raimie nodded, I scooted closer, leaning forward until our heads were almost touching.

“How did you close the tear?” I asked.

Emotions flurried over Raimie’s face, settling on disconcerted confusion.

Worrying at his lip, he said, “I… don’t know. I…”

He met my eyes with such fear behind his own, and I bumped his forehead with mine before retreating.

“It’s ok,” I said.

Raimie took a few deep breaths, but then, he set his mouth into the firmest, most determined line I’d seen in a while.

“I pulled energy to me. I don’t know what else to call that strange substance,” he said, “but it’s lying there, under the world’s skin, and I can still feel it, even if I can’t touch it anymore. Anyway, I pulled two types to me, forced them together, and fed the resulting creation back to the tear. That blend of energy is what closed it, I think, but I don’t remember what happened after the last of it drained from me.”

Fascinating. They could be merged? That was… If I hadn’t seen it done, I wouldn’t have believed Raimie’s story.

“Good,” I said. “Now, this sensation, the two energies you mentioned. Have you felt it before?”

Shifting, Raimie tried to move his gaze away from me, but with us so close together, it could only settle on his hands in his lap.

“Maybe,” he said. “Once.”

Once? I’d seen Raimie using that energy more than once, but that was a topic for another day. After all, I’d reached the most critical juncture in a conversation like this.

“Did it perhaps come from an invisible… someone?” I asked. “Someone who looks like you maybe?”

Sucking in a breath, Raimie shot backward, tangling his fingers in the grass.

“How did you…?” he said.

With a lopsided grin, I said, “I have one too.”

I turned to the side.

“You can show yourself. Unless you want him to think I’m crazy.”

As bidden, a figure appeared beside us, but this one wasn’t cloaked by an Eselan guise. It was a faintly humanoid shape made of white light, and before I’d registered what I was doing, I’d shot to my feet, blocking the path to Raimie.

“What in the void are you?” I growled.

“Um. Don’t you know?” Raimie said. “It… huh. It looks kind of like-”

“Raimie. Shut up, and stay still.”

Surprisingly, the boy did as I’d asked, leaving me to focus on the unknown splinter.

“You may call me Purity,” it said with laughter rumbling in its voice.

“Where’s Creation?” I snapped.

“After detecting the possibility of corruption, they have returned to the whole for correction.”

Right. How had I forgotten about that?

“Send it back,” I said.

I didn’t care what Creation wanted. I needed a splinter that I knew nearby when introducing the concept of them to Raimie.

“Quite impossible, I’m afraid,” Purity said. “If your piece of Creation is right, now might be the only time to correct them.”

“I don’t care.”

Something in my tone had Purity leaning away from me, but I didn’t take the time to consider it.

“Return to the whole, and tell it to send my splinter back,” I hissed. “Remember. You need me more than I need you.”

Seconds ticked by, seconds where I was afraid I’d pushed too hard, but Purity straightened.

“As you say,” it said.

When it vanished, another figure replaced it, one wearing a guise I knew, and seeing it, I gasped. The cracks across Creation’s form had spread, and it had shrunk, leaving the top of its head at my waistline.

Swaying in place, it croaked, “What have you done?”

I’d returned it to the physical plane, obviously, but I wasn’t sure why. I’d thought I wanted a known splinter on hand while explaining them to Raimie, but now, with my heart in my throat because of Creation’s state…

Was I worried about the splinter?

“I… don’t know,” I said.

As if blind, Creation drunkenly reached for me, although its hands passed through the support of my offered arm.

“The balance!” it cried. “The balance has slipped so far!”

What was that supposed to mean?

“Hey,” I said, snapping my fingers in front of Creation’s face. “It’ll keep for a while longer. You rest. Fix what’s wrong with you.”

“I-”

After choking on itself, Creation nodded, and a pop preceded its disappearance.

Only then could I focus on my surroundings. Not as many Zrelnach were staring at me as I’d expected, but still, I spun on Raimie.

“I need you to get us moving,” I said.

Completely white in the face, Raimie couldn’t do much more than flap his jaw for a moment, but soon enough, he gained control of himself.

“What was that, Rhy?” he asked.

“Something I’ll explain later tonight, along with everything else,” I said. “For now, please distract the people around us so they don’t figure out what we were doing and decide to murder me.”

“O-ok.”

Leaping to his feet, Raimie shook himself.

“Later tonight?” he asked.

After receiving a nod, he trotted off, and I could consider what Creation had said.

The balance had slipped? I wasn’t sure what that meant, but if it had to do with the Eternal War…

Did that mean the enemy was winning? It would make sense, considering how long Doldimar had remained in power, unchecked, but…

Damn. This cycle was quickly becoming a difficult one.

Thankfully, Raimie was quick to rally the group, and we soon resumed our slow plod, taking the worry of death via a comrade’s blade off of my plate, at least for the moment.