‘We will speak again soon.’
Lillya watched the would-be assassins leave, aghast that the descendant of the Architects was simply allowing them to go. She knew his core tenet was to convert, not harm, but to see it put into action against such a dangerous group of individuals shook her to her core. Of course, there was one amongst them that had Player blood running through his veins, which only complicated Lillya’s feelings further.
‘Oh, Divine Player,’ one of her fellow worshippers said, practically throwing himself at Yusef’s feet, ‘with great humility, may I ask, is this wise? We must assume such fanatics will not give up so easily. Is there something you see in their future that gives you context we do not have?’
Yusef’s eyes remained on the doorway. ‘Give it time,’ he said. ‘I foresaw their arrival, and just the same, I foresee their conversion. And what did I say about that form of address? I am Yusef. That is my name. That is what you will call me.’
‘Of course… Yusef,’ the man in orange said, bowing even further, his eyes fixed to the floor at the Player’s feet so as to not look upon him. So many of these westerners believed that they were not worthy. Up in the Northern Reaches, members of the church did not share this belief. Lillya met Yusef’s eye when she spoke to him, and though he had instructed them all to do so, the orc couldn’t help but think he was taken aback when it actually happened.
‘You like me to arrange the big man come back?’ Lillya asked. ‘You say you speak again to him soon. Is instruction or prophecy?’
‘In good time,’ Yusef said, as he so often did, though the orc noted that this was no answer one way or the other. The prophet could be so terribly vague in his replies, though Lillya suspected that he did not wish to cast too big a stone into the rivers of fate with his revelations. ‘I will have some alone time now,’ he continued, ‘to divine. Please ensure those we displaced are fed.’
All of those in orange hesitated, lingering for a moment. All of them wished to ask about something Yusef had said just minutes earlier—about the realm of the Architects needing rebuilding. Not once, in all those parables and allegorical stories, had Yusef mentioned this. And yet these Slayers enter, and the truth—if that’s what it was—came out. Why had he not told his closest aides that his world, and their intended destination, was in disrepair?
But it was too bold a question to emerge from anyone’s lips, so everyone soon did as the Player commanded. Except… Lillya lingered on the threshold.
‘Is there something else?’ Yusef asked.
The orc gulped, steeling herself, before turning around and closing the door gently behind her. ‘You say something earlier.’
‘About the Ascended Realm?’ Yusef asked.
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‘No. Yes, this too, but also…’ Lillya hesitated once more; she hadn’t dreamed of being so bold as to ask about the world of the Architects, but there was another perhaps less dangerous question on her lips. ‘You say earlier you foresee Slayers coming.’
‘I did.’
‘But… I tell you they coming.’
Yusef drew in a deep breath before turning to her. ‘Sometimes, the art of Divination can be… fickle. Elusive. We must plug any gaps as they emerge. You understand?’
‘So you…’
‘I don’t lie, I augment.’ Yusef said, apparently having foreseen Lillya’s question. Or was she simply that predictable? Before the orc could open her mouth once more, the Player continued, ‘That’ll be all, Lillya.’ From his stern tone, there was no room for argument here.
And so Lillya left Yusef alone to work his magicks. She knew well enough by now—from previous weeks spent in the Player’s employ—that moments such as these were few and far between. She should take the opportunity to get some rest.
Lillya’s current lodgings were in a small room at the top of the house, shared with another follower of the Player who she’d liked well enough, but with whom she had little in common. The younger tiefling woman was in the room as Lillya arrived, apparently having come to the same conclusion.
‘Weird one, huh?’ she asked, her tone suggesting this was idle conversation rather than the start of a meaningful discussion. But Lillya did not do this “small talk” that the other races were so fond of.
‘He say the Ascended World need repair?’ Lillya asked. ‘You know of this?’
The tiefling hesitated, trained well enough to think before she spoke on such potentially dangerous matters. ‘I wouldn’t repeat what you heard in that room outside of it. Few know about this. If you were to say it in front of the wrong person… well, they might just accuse you of heresy.’
‘But how can be heresy when said by Yusef?’ Lillya retorted. ‘Refuting what he say is the heresy, not repeating it.’
‘I know that, and you know that, Lillya, but the others? They wouldn’t understand. And if word about the Ascended Realm got out… that might just lose Yusef followers. We can’t have that. At least, not until the Council get their way—after that, it won’t matter. We’ll have our realm once more, and Yusef says we’ll all ascend with him.’
But Lillya had doubts. Doubts that she knew she had to keep to herself. If Yusef had this… casual relationship with the truth, then what else had he not been entirely honest about? He had kept this pivotal news hidden, and he had used Lillya’s gathered intelligence to “augment” his prophecies. Just what else was out there?
Lillya shook her head—causing a raised eyebrow from her roommate in response—and tried to quell these doubts within herself. If she did not trust Yusef, then why was she here? What was her purpose? And if she could not trust him, then would she ever enter the Ascended World? And then, too, if she never entered this paradise, then was this it? Was her time on this world all she really had?
Again, she shook her head. She had to trust Yusef. She had to.
But if she didn’t, wasn’t there another Player in town? Or, at least, the next best thing? The young human man known as Styk, the man who’d slipped through her fingers back in Rose Home, he was half Player.
What wise words might he have, in Yusef’s place?