The barbarian arrived at Yusef’s door.

‘You came,’ Yusef said, trying not to betray the surprise in his voice; it wouldn’t do for the others to know he’d had doubts. He was their prophet, after all, and supposed to know for certain all that was to come. Would they follow him if they didn’t?

His most loyal followers in their pale orange robes considered the man in the doorway carefully, and though nobody moved hands towards their weapons, he knew they were ready to strike. It didn’t take the gift of Divination to know that.

‘Yeah, I got your messages,’ the barbarian said, eyes sweeping around the room and landing for a second on the orc.

‘Lore,’ Lillya said, with a nod.

The man nodded back to her.

‘And what of the others?’ Yusef asked.

The barbarian swallowed. ‘They’ll know I’ve left by the morning. I left a note.’

‘You told them you would be travelling with me?’

‘I did, yeah.’

‘And will they follow?’

The barbarian held Yusef’s gaze. It was refreshing; so few would do so, these days. Not since his following had swelled in number. ‘You’re the prophet; you tell me.’ The man’s eyes drifted over the others in this small room, uncertain. If he had something to say, he wouldn’t say it in front of the others.

‘Out,’ Yusef said.

Of those in orange, only the orc hesitated.

‘I said out, Lillya,’ the Player said again.

But still the orc paused, her eyes darting to the visitor. ‘You safe? You foresee this?’

‘Would I tell you to leave if I hadn’t?’

Lillya raised her eyebrows, then turned away, slamming the door shut behind her. Yusef would need to investigate the orc’s recent change in manner, but he had greater priorities. He always had greater priorities.

Only when the others were long since departed from the room did the barbarian enter properly. He kept well away from Yusef, skirting around the other side of the room, then perched himself against a side table. His enormous sword clattered as metal touched wood.

‘Your messengers said coming was the only way my friends would be safe. That’s the only reason I came. That true?’

‘I assume that your own visions showed you much the same,’ Yusef replied. This bit was a risk; he knew it was. But he had his magicks ready to go. He could make Lore see what he wanted him to see, if he had to. And nobody would see the glow of those magicks because of the obscurem he gripped in his robe’s pocket.

The barbarian shook his head. ‘I… I don’t know.’

No matter. It was an easy fix. Yusef didn’t even need to stand as he raised his hand towards the stranger, using his magicks to show the barbarian what he needed to see—visions of his friends’ attack on Yusef. Visions of his friends being killed by the cult.

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And then, the opposite. Visions of the man standing at Yusef’s side. Of his elven friend reclaiming his homeland. Of the worldbender and the witch putting aside trouble past. Of a cultist stilling the tiefling’s blade before she could kill the orc.

The barbarian stood still for a moment, the red glow of magicks fading from his eyes. ‘Those were clear enough, I suppose, but I can’t always make sense of them. The visions. I came for my friends, but… Maybe you could also show me—’

‘How to make sense of the visions? How to control them? How to use them to seize power, to change mind and reign dominion over man?’ Yusef finished for him. Again, he didn’t need powers of Divination to see that one coming. Who wouldn’t want those things?’

‘No,’ the man said. ‘I was hoping you could show me how to get rid of them.’

Yusef found himself caught off-guard. He turned away from the man, focusing down on the papers on the desk in front of him—missives from faraway sects, reports from spies, and requests from the Council. ‘You want… rid of these powers?’

‘I don’t want to see my friends die over and over. I can’t keep seeing that. I’ve… lost enough people already.’

‘You’d be throwing away a divine gift.’

The barbarian shook his head. ‘I dunno about all that. I’ve never been one for magicks, really. Give me a sword and I’m happy, but magicks? This is all… this is all beyond me. Will you… help me?’

‘There are worlds out there without magick, you know,’ Yusef said. ‘Or, at least, worlds that aren’t aware of the magicks that hold their realities together. They’ve created some wondrous inventions in its absence—carriages powered by steam, not horse; medicines that use the innate attributes of plants; navigational devices fixed to the poles of their worlds. Truly incredible things, and things I have seen first-hand.’

‘Sounds like a nice place. Why aren’t you there? Why are you here?’ It seemed the barbarian made no effort to disguise the disdain he had for Yusef. This was a man forced into a corner, doing what the prophet wanted only because he felt he had to. It wouldn’t do to push him too far.

Yusef smiled. He could say, now, the truth. The truth that he kept from others in his flock. And why could he say it? Because nobody would believe a slayer of the Architects. ‘Because the magicks that bound me there faded when I died. It is true of all the worlds I visited. Reckless lifestyles, full of glutton and extravagance and a lack of concern with upsetting the locals… all of those ended the same way. With my death. Now, only a handful of worlds remain available to me. Hence…’ The member of the Council sighed; perhaps sharing this particular piece of information would be going too far. ‘Well, you’ll see.’

The barbarian didn’t need to know about Yusef’s plans. About the Council’s plans. Not yet, at any rate. Perhaps once Yusef had sufficiently converted the man with his visions, then he might be able to trust him. But until that time, he would keep the matter of the malae to himself.

‘So you can’t help me?’ Lore said.

‘I’m already helping you. I’m keeping your friends alive. Is that not enough? Because I can ask my followers to keep you away from me, and then we’ll see what happens. You never know, the fates might smile kindly upon them. Maybe only some of them will die.’

The man’s hand drifted ever so slightly towards that huge sword of his. But then he caught himself—as far as he knew, striking Yusef down would be enough to seal his friends’ fates. The stranger possessed the gift of prophecy, but not so much that he would know the future for certain. Still, it was enough that Yusef could use it to plug the gaps in his own gathered intelligence.

‘In fact,’ Yusef continued, ‘I think it is you who ought to help me.’

‘How?’ the barbarian said. ‘How can I—’

‘Your Divination,’ the Player interrupted. ‘Your vision. What have you seen? You say you need to be there, under the towers, when Tana completes the great plan.

‘Why don’t we start with that?’