VIII.

Deliberation

"Akvum, Liara, and Vladius are dead. Ivalié is likely on our trail too, and Kogar is…"

"Vladius?"

"We killed him in Vehk. There was a Hunter castle hidden there."

"In the mountains? I wonder what they had one of the Twelve doing there…"

Faunia bit her lip as she admired the map splayed on the kitchen table before them, in the run-down home they had decided to hole up in. It wasn't glamorous, nor very comfortable, but it was affordable. And with their exceptionally few leads on work, it would have to make do.

On the map, where Kylinstrom had reappeared, there was a big coastline leading into the Soundless Depths, the ocean that led southward to other masses of land—allegedly. Continents. A word used so infrequently in our old world.

She looked to Cedric who was leaned against the wall cross-armed, glaring out the filthy three-paned window at the makeshift training ground in their fenced-in yard.

"And there's the green one—the one who attempted to kill me, and perhaps spared me."

"Any number of things could have happened in that instant. You were surrounded by Etherians."

"I'm lucky."

"Or someone is looking out for you."

She sighed, "She did say that only Kogar is after us…"

"What of the others?"

"I couldn't be sure of their identities. It was so sudden..."

"It's fine. Tirolith?"

The dim room began to glow as her teal armor appeared. She did not smile at Cedric as she usually did, but instead her azure lips frowned. Her eyes were somber.

"Did you catch any of their appearances?"

"Vekzul was there."

Serkukan stepped forward from the corner. "Vekzul?"

"He's a Relistar."

Cedric glowered. "Another Relistar. Fate again?"

Another collapse of the Hierarchy of Fates?

Serkukan interjected, "In other words, there's going to be a decisive battle."

"We have to consider how far down the line it'll be. There's no way we could handle something like that right now, especially if it's true that Algirak wasn't up to his full strength. These people are."

Tirolith glanced around in apprehension.

"Liara was no great challenge. But then, she did offer herself to be killed. Otherwise, we might not be here now."

"Akvum brought his Etherian with him to the grave." Serkukan suggested. "And Kag'thine escaped us."

Kag'thine. Cedric thought. I don't remember that name.

"And we can't underestimate Rykaedi."

Cedric nodded.

Faunia stood from her stool in alarm. "She survived?"

"So far as we can tell." Cedric shrugged.

"All of that effort…" Her hands shook with anger and sadness both.

"We'll have to do it again. We didn't fare too poorly, did we?"

Then Tirolith and Faunia both looked at him in concern and apprehension.

"Well? Out with it. We've fought her once at least, and?"

When Faunia finally spoke up, she said, "You… you died, Cedric."

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His eyebrows came up.

Serkukan unballed his fists and cocked his head.

"I… what?"

Nine left. Nine god-like beings who may or may not have the will to stop them in their tracks. Nine god-like beings who could hunt them down and likely kill them in a single breath…

There was uncertainty in how to proceed. To train physically, to hone their Etherians, to pray to the new pantheons that appeared on the lips of every street-sayer and prophet…?

The only thing certain in their minds was that death loomed. And far too closely.

Liara was a stroke of luck in some capacity—she was disinterested in the cause of the Twelve. She cared only to be reunited with Serkukan, whether for longing or for entertainment. She was satisfied, and she allowed herself to die.

Serkukan did not mourn. Cedric wasn't even sure if he could.

But now it was Dothis—the Calamoni word for four. In the Kylinstrom calendar it was Eagerheart. The temperature was no longer blisteringly cold, but mild and serviceable, on this day at least.

Time marched on. And though none of the remaining Twelve had made moves against them, it was quickly becoming time for them to make a move of their own.

Cedric lowered his wooden training sword for just a moment and wiped his sweat away with a rag. The sack dummy across from him was unflinching. It bore a deep wound over its heart, where Cedric had lost his temper and laid what would have been a fatal blow.

As hard as I push, my mind becomes no clearer.

He dropped the sword and leaned against the crude fence that encircled the yard of their shack. He glanced around at the village — a small place called Kyrrin. Peaceful. Serene. Smoke rose from the chimneys of those quaint wooden homes as the day wound down to a close, and people began to retire for dinner and respite. The village appeared almost as Dreslon once had. His heart ached to think of it...

"Kosos, God of Moon and Star. Thalyssus, God of World and Home. And…"

"Vecca. God of Self."

Cedric turned. It was Serkukan, standing behind the fence, who gave him the answer.

The demon said, "You're wasting your breath."

"So far as you know. So far as I know. But Azafel and Evra will not answer our prayers."

The demon shifted uneasily. "You died."

"I did. That explains the memory loss. And the lethargy, I suppose. Gods, I've been so tired…"

"It does not help that you burn blood as quickly as you inhale it. It needs to accumulate."

Cedric stared at him for a long moment. Then he said, "You were particularly strange during our bout with Liara."

Serkukan didn't answer.

"You want to talk about that?"

"No. And if you bring it up again unnecessarily, I'll drown you in crimson."

"As amicable as ever." He glared and stepped away from the fence. "Screw off then, bastard."

"Why are we seeking Evra?"

The sudden question surprised him. "I thought you didn't care about why we did things? Aren't you all about killing, no matter the reason?"

"This is different. Why did Llestren’vatis send you this way? Why do you continue down this damnable road?"

"Can't you just read my mind and figure it out?"

"Your mind is muddled. You're conflicted about what to do with her."

Cedric sighed, "Yeah. I am. And for now, that's all you need to know."

With that, he retrieved his wooden sword and returned to sparring.

X

There are seven bindings to Evra. Auctdos Munor—the seven-stage device that holds her in place. A chromatic device, like the Omnestatum, like Dyosius. By separating the powers between seven shards, seven feathers, the device can retain stability. It was something forgotten when the Omnestatum was created by the Etherian Council. And when Algirak slew the old king, he shared that same neglect in turning the Omnestatum into Dyosius.

That was what they said at the Thelani, the Church of Azafel; that place where Cedric had hidden away to learn. That's what Faunia learned, too.

She thanked them and went on her way. There was much to consider. Too much. It was an overwhelming amount of information to be sorted through and translated into familiarity. Information about the new world and old—information that would have driven the Hunters crazy, and validated the Sylvet.

"He bears the weight of forbidden knowledge." she had once said to Cedric, in defense of Akvum. She hadn't known the severity of that knowledge.

The Sylvet gods are real.

Which, to her, begged the question: were they right? Not in their cruel methods, but… their beliefs?

And then the realm of Etheria—the realm outside of ours. The Hierarchy of Fates, that order which dictates gods of gods and the eternal structure of power…

She sat down on a stone step outside of a nearby shop, watched the milling of Calamonian people rushing about their days. There were so many varieties of knights and adventurers and colorful characters that she could hardly keep track at all. It was an overwhelming sight, and it was even more fantastical to see them before the grandiose and impossible architecture, the curving and arched buildings of stone, with their glowing firelights and magical bulbs of blue Hunters' light…

Azafel and Evra, the twin gods of Caloria. Azafel sits on the higher plane, still, where Algirak sought to breach. Evra is locked in place, somewhere here in Calamon… If her bindings were to be released, it would restore order to our chaotic and hectic world, but it would forever seal the way back to Azafel's ring. Until Dyosius is found, neither outcome can happen. We're safe, until someone finds it... Someone...

Her gaze traveled up to the sun, the one thing she was sure hadn't yet changed.

Cedric—please don't do something stupid.

*