Reial watched as a pair of dragons streamed through the skies. Their ruby red and sapphire blue scales glittering in the sunlight. They whirled around one another, with the blue one even snapping at the red one’s wings from time to time. He wondered what it was that caused it to do so.

Without warning, the ruby dragon blasted ahead of the sapphire one, streaking through the skies as nothing but a blur. Is that…? Reial shook his head. Dragons couldn’t Gale Glide, could they?

The power belonged to man, much like Veil Striding and Trance Shifting. Yet strangely enough, the spearheaded salamander that rode upon Scorch’s back challenged that belief. Veil Striders had a rather handy, if albeit niche, ability. Despite moving at speeds that the human eye couldn’t keep track of; they could turn completely invisible. Something about their Essence completely dissolving their physical form temporarily.

When his father had first explained it to him, he was scared that he’d never be able to feel again. That wasn’t the case. He could still interact with the world and wield his weapon. In fact, he experienced little to no change at all. Much like ordinary Striding, only Veil Seers or those with the ability were able to track them.

This salamander, however, was able to imitate their cloaking ability; covering its body in a thin layer of Essence that shimmered like slime. Its skin had twisted and distorted with color until it seamlessly resembled a collection of scales on Scorch’s back. Save for its eyes, which stared ever upwards for signs of predators.

“Why exactly are we taking this thing with us again?” Reial asked Charette.

“That thing has a name,” Charette said, folding her arms.

Reial sighed. “Fine, why are we taking Yusjek with us?”

“Because I thought Scorch needed a friend to keep him company.”

“But he already has us.”

Charette grinned. “You can never have enough friends. Plus look at him, he likes them!”

The drog bounced around energetically, though not enough to send the salamander flying. It was technically referred to as a veilback, an appropriate name if Reial had to say so himself. As for the name Charette had given it, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for the thing. Yusjek roughly translated to “First-reptile” “Yus” being associated with the number one, while “Jek” stemmed from the Thírian word for reptile.

It was like calling a brown drog “dirt” or a blinding redtail “flash”.

“Or a red and orange drog ‘Scorch’,” Linithesis interjected.

Reial grimaced. “Did you really have to go there?”

“Only when it’s harmless

“That’s fair, I guess.”

He watched as Scorch brushed his plumy tail against the things back. How exactly his sister had managed to convince this skittish creature to join them was beyond him.

“What exactly do we feed it?” Reial asked her.

“I don’t know, bugs? Maybe they eat human food like Scorch.”

“They better, I’m not cooking up bugs for it.”

Charette’s lips thinned to a line as she examined the creature closely. It didn’t shy off or retreat to Scorch’s head, instead, it stared back at her. It’s amber-colored eye slits glowing with a knowing look.

“Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?”

“Does it matter?” Reial said.

“Of course, it does! I don’t want to mistake it for one or the other. That might hurt their feelings.”

“She has a point,” Linithesis added.

“It’s an animal!” Reial shouted.

Scorch twisted his head around and shot him a hurt look.

“No! Not like you Scorch! You’re not an animal.”

“Technically, he is, but you could’ve worded it a bit better.”

Reial groaned inwardly. “I meant the Salamander. Does it even understand what we’re saying? Who cares if it’s a boy or a girl.”

The salamander twisted its head around just like Scorch, giving him what appeared to be a stern look. Could they understand him? He remembered reading something on the Sygnal theorizing how animals that can wield Essence being descended from Pneumas. There wasn’t much evidence to back up that argument now that he recalled it. The most they offered were flimsy accounts of people interacting with Pneumas in ages past, long before the Invasion.

But for the ancients to be so unwise and reckless? Especially during the golden age of the Aunesfernish Empire? It just didn’t make sense. They sounded more like fairy tales to him.

Reial groaned. “All right, I’m sorry. I’ll refer to you by name.”

The salamander bobbed its head and returned to staring up at the sky. He felt ridiculous for apologizing to a wild animal such as it, but he couldn’t just take back his word, could he? That would be rude.

Linithesis hummed pleasantly. “Being respectful is easy, we just make it harder on ourselves by being stubborn.”

Reial stuffed his hands in his pockets and shook his head. “Doesn’t seem like it.”

“That’s because you’re still being stubborn.”

“Do you have a response for everything?”

Linithesis’s presence glowed like a dying ember. “If I did, wouldn’t that make me something akin to God itself?”

The very thought of having God trapped in his mind, watching, waiting, listening for him to fail made him shudder. Never offering aid but expecting praise and love in return for doing nothing. To exist was to suffer, so wasn’t God the embodiment of that suffering?

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

A beacon of light drove away those dark clouds, allowing him to breathe a sigh of relief. He had only felt that sensation a handful of times, most of those were during solar strolls.

“Why love a God that you hate?”

“Because everyone says you have to,” Reial answered.

“Does that make them correct?”

“I…”

“If you’re justified in hating a person, can you hate God too?”

Reial’s throat grew tight with anxiety.

“Can you hate God for doing nothing? Can you hate God for blessing you with gifts that have only cursed you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Does God truly know everything?”

“People say They do.”

“How are you certain they know?”

“Because…” Reial paused. “Because the Rei Cherlanna says so.”

“What if it was all a lie? What if there is no God?”

No Almagest? That meant that Striders and their siblings didn’t draw their power from a divine right. That they won the war against the Nether Dwellers by mere luck. That what they loved was nothing more than a puff of smoke. It was a terrifying thought. To acknowledge what he considered to be as true.

“Is the knowledge of no afterlife truly that terrifying?” Linithesis asked.

“No.”

“Then what are you afraid of?”

Reial squeezed the pommel of his sword tightly. “I’m afraid of not living my life to the fullest.”

Linithesis’s presence dimmed. “But how can you fulfill your life when you take no pleasure in it?”

“I’ll let you know when we get to Endona.”

“Reial, abandoning them is not the answer.”

“Then what is? Do you want me to just stand here and smile like nothing’s wrong? To continue pretending for everyone else’s sake?”

“No one ever asked you to do that.”

Reial suppressed a frustrated groan. “Just leave me alone, Linithesis.”

“I won’t.”

“Then be quiet!”

“Silence is a very subjective thing.” The Pneuma trilled.

“No, it’s not. You’re just acting smart.”

Linithesis chortled. “Perhaps. You need to learn to relax. If you’re always so straight-faced and grim people won’t like being around you.”

“I don’t need people around me; I want to be alone.”

“Oh yes, that’s what we all say at first,” Linithesis said. “But when we’re finally alone, we long for those we love and care about. Yes...love and care...”

Through a bank of foggy memories, Reial made out a family and friends he’d once had. In a life that never belonged to him. Ethereal animal-like beings. So perfect, so intelligent. It was just like...just like? Just like us? He thought curiously. How could animals look so human? That knowing spark in their eye, the way they carried themselves. Were these things Pneumas?

The more he pondered it, the more he longed to be with them again. Again? When had he been with them before?

Reial pulled himself free from the memories and sighed. Was he getting worse?

“Are you okay?” Charrette asked. “We can take a break if you’re tired.”

He smiled. She knew that Veil Striders couldn’t tire from a simple walk, but he was still thankful for her offer. “No, I’m fine. I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Like what?”

He shrugged. “Just silly stuff.”

“I’d still like to hear it.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded.

“Promise you won’t make fun of me for it.”

“That’s a pretty big promise to make.”

Reial frowned at her.

“Hyvas, I’m just teasing!” She grinned. “Now go on, tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Are you fine with this?” Linithesis questioned him.

“I am, why? You don’t want her to know?”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t turn into an object of worship. It’s bad enough that you’re a Veil Strider but imagine what would happen if people knew you had a Pneuma with you.”

Reial scoffed. “It’s not like I go around telling everyone I’m a Veil Strider. Besides we’re not in Khaantan, so you’re fine.”

Linithesis grumbled. “All right, but promise me that if we go to Khaantan, we avoid Rei’Xchal Yamin.”

“Um, sure?”

“Good.”

Reial was tempted to question the Pneuma on its odd behavior, but he decided against it. He didn’t want to keep his sister waiting for a response. “Hypothetically, let’s say that there was a Pneuma inside my head trying to give me advice on what to do. Would you believe me?”

Charette stared at him, her expression slowly shifting to one of bemusement as the chirping in the fields gradually fell silent. Was what he said so outlandish that even the insects were reassessing his intelligence?

“Wait, you have that problem too?”

Now it was his turn to be confused. Well, more confused than he already was. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I have a voice in my head too.” She paused. “Or several.”

Several? That can’t be good. “Do they talk directly to you?”

“Yes. They’ve been doing that for a while now.”

“Linithesis, would you happen to know anything about that?”

The Pneuma hummed and answered cryptically. “What are questions really?”

Reial groaned. “I should’ve known you would’ve had a hand to play in this.”

“Not entirely.”

“Explain.”

Linithesis, despite not having a throat, made a noise like he was clearing his. Twenty times, in fact.

“Are you done now?” Reial asked.

“I am,” Linithesis said. “But to answer your question, I do know who’s linked to your sister. They’re just…how do I put this? Not the kind I prefer to be around.”

“Then how did you convince them to go through this little plan of yours?”

“What plan?”

“You know! The one where you invade our personal privacy.”

“Well for the starters, that would be more their plan than mine.” Linithesis began. “And secondly, I didn’t know they would choose your sister of all people. It just happened.”

“How exactly does any of…this happen?” Reial pressed.

“How should I know? I’m not the Almagest.”

“Can’t you give me a better answer than that?”

The sound of rattling pots filled his mind. “Do you know of the ‘Random Number Generator’ algorithm?”

“What?”

“Exactly.”

Reial brought his hands to his face and groaned. Every time he was on the cusp of learning something from the Pneuma, he was sent askew. Charette eyed him curiously, though he just tapped his head in response, and she nodded as if she completely understood his issue.

“Are you going to dodge my questions forever?” Reial inquired of him.

“Dodge? No. Circle and toy with them? Perhaps. Though I wouldn’t say that I’m doing that, as I’ve partially answered you already.”

Reial blinked. “Then I’ve learned nothing.”

“Be more attentive then. If you keep searching for your answer on a surface level, you won’t understand the deeper meaning of it.”

“Just tell me what the answer is, Linithesis.”

“I already have.”

Reial huffed and slammed his foot against the earth, sending forth a shower of sparks and chunks of debris. He dispatched them with a speed that would’ve made even lightning jealous, delivering deft kicks and solid punches that turned the rubble into dust. Once he was finished, he disabled his Veil Seeing with a blink of his eyes and found Charette, Scorch, and Yusjek all staring at him. They weren’t hurt, he wasn’t dumb enough to upheave the entire road.

“Throwing a fit won’t solve your problems.” Linithesis chided him.

“It does when the person you want to grab and shake doesn’t exist physically,” Reial retorted.

Amusement emanated from the Pneuma’s presence. “Ceramana nel, ceramana nel.”

“What?”

“It means ‘good point’ in Almanesian.”

“Umm, you need a moment, Rail?” Charette asked. “We can hold off on talking about it. You seem busy.”

“I’d appreciate it.”

Charette nodded and went over to check on Yusjek. She allowed it to climb onto her hand. It was small, being as long as her hand was. Reial was lucky to have someone as understanding and strange as her.

“You need to listen and look properly.” Linithesis continued. “Turn outward, tell them. Ask them. Don’t be afraid to say your piece.”

Afraid to say his piece? Why share something that’s wrong? It would only embarrass him.

“Even being wrong offers unique insight into a situation.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“It’s better to have said it than nothing at all.”

Reial’s anger slipped away as he pondered Linithesis’s words. They were close to Endona. Another day at this pace? He couldn’t bring himself to Stride there. He just wanted to enjoy this for a bit longer. Even if he was prolonging the pain, it was the closest he’s ever come to being truly happy.