Chapter Two Hundred Thirty-Six: 'The land's attention...'

Hector stepped up to the edge of the cliff for a better look. It was even taller than he'd expected. He could see the edge of the Imara Forest to the north, as well as the road that led to Atreya to the south. There was a clear gradient among the foliage as it slowly changed from the lush green north to a thinned out grassland and finally to the barren gray south.

It was a little strange to realize that his home was down south, in the mildly evil-looking region.

He could hear the ever present footsteps of Matteo Delaguna behind him, along with the much more distant ones of the survey team farther down the slope. The Lorentian Secretary of Agriculture and Land Development, Jonathan Nash, had insisted on sending them with him in order to answer any questions that he may have. Mostly, Hector had just been talking to them through his radio from a thousand or more feet away, because actually waiting up for them was pretty painful.

They weren't the only other members of the party, though. Ravi Zaman and Carl Rondel and both their reapers had decided to come along as well. The presidential advisors from Abolish and the Vanguard, respectively.

Precisely what their goal here was, Hector really couldn't say, though Garovel seemed to think that it was to ingratiate themselves with the new hero of Lorent. With the war going, Hector would've thought they were too busy for something so trivial, but he was having a hard time imagining a different reason.

They actually weren't even talking to him much, though. Mr. Rondel in particular had barely said five words to him so far, and from what Hector had seen, both men were constantly on their phones.

As for Prince David, he had already gone back to Intar, which was a shame. Hector had enjoyed his company, even if their meeting with President Dance had gotten a little awkward.

Lord Hanton had technically departed as well, supposedly back to Atreya, but he was actually still following Hector while invisible. He wasn't trying to hide his presence from Hector himself, however.

'It's rather barren,' said Hanton, presumably from somewhere up in the sky.

'I'm sure we could find a use for it,' said Garovel, who was hanging on his shoulder. The reaper still didn't seem to be terribly comfortable in the presence of Sparrows, and Hector couldn't really blame him much.

'I still can't believe you're considering their offer,' said Hanton. 'The only reason they are interested in granting you this land is because it will compel you to defend Lorent for them in the event of another crisis.'

'So you've mentioned. Multiple times now.'

'You must realize that if Lorent gets dragged into the war, you will have a serious dilemma on your hands.'

'And passing up this opportunity without first giving it appropriate consideration would be incredibly stupid.'

'There is nothing in this empty land that could possibly be valuable enough to counterbalance the level of risk that you would be taking by accepting it.'

'Dunno about that,' said Garovel. 'I seem to recall hearing something about a point of "geographic resonance" in this country, which sounded like it could possess all sorts of value.'

'Hmph. Yes, well, that location was further north, and moreover, it was destroyed in the battle.'

'I'm just saying that if we happened to find another one in this Jagwa region here, then that might be valuable enough to take the risk, wouldn't you say?'

Hanton gave a psychic grumble, one that seemed to harbor begrudging agreement.

Hector, for his part, was still a bit torn about this whole deal. He certainly didn't want to upset the Queen, but from the sound of things, he'd also be upsetting the Lorentians if he refused. And he could see Hanton's point, too. If Lorent really was just doing this in order to manipulate him, then this wasn't exactly the start of a healthy relationship, he felt.

But it was free land. And lot of it, too.

The Jagwa territory alone spanned over three hundred thousand square kilometers--almost double the size of Atreya in its entirety. And the deal currently on the table would grant Hector ownership of about a third of Jagwa, including the areas nearest Warrenhold around the Atreyan border.

A hundred thousand square kilometers...

That was pretty generous. It was no small wonder why Garovel didn't want to make a hasty decision here. Hector doubted that they would be able to make up their minds even after conducting this little survey. He very much wanted to hear Amelia Carthrace's opinion about this whole thing.

He was thinking about calling her right now, in fact, but he knew how busy she was. And if this expedition turned up anything crazy, Garovel might just tell him to take the deal immediately.

Thus far, it all looked fairly normal, though. The land was quite easy on the eyes, too. The morning sun made for quite a picture over the windswept grasslands below. He could see the occasional stone formation dotting the plains as the land stretched closer toward Atreya to the south. He even spotted a couple mobs of wild horses grazing in the distance.

He also knew that there were four towns that would technically be falling under his "ownership" as a result of this deal. That wasn't very many, considering how huge the section of land in question was, but one of those towns had a population of around two hundred thousand people.

Hector would hardly call this place "empty," as Hanton had, when so many were living in this region. But then again, compared to the forty million or so people who were crammed into Atreya, he could kind of understand what the Sparrow had meant.

He just hoped that Hanton would actually tell him if he sensed anything strange in this region.

"Lord Goffe," arrived the voice of Carl Rondel, making Hector turn to see him approaching. "What is your opinion on the war?"

Hector blinked, unsure what to even say to that.

The man's reaper, Joviza, hovered nearer. 'Excuse our bluntness,' she said. 'We did not mean to blindside you with such a heavy question, but we are curious. And we find it best not to dance around the subjects we are interested in discussing.'

Ravi and his reaper were observing, seemingly also interested how he would answer.

Well, shit.

'Remain non-committal,' advised Garovel privately. 'But try to also sound strong, if you can.'

Hector could agree with those sentiments. He had a question of his own first, though. "Why are you asking?"

"Because it is relevant," said Carl flatly. "If the war comes to this part of the continent, do you intend to get involved?"

Did this guy even know the meaning of the word tact? "...I would defend Atreya from invaders, if that's what you're asking," said Hector.

"And what about Lorent?" pushed Carl.

No. Hector was pretty sure he didn't.

And Hector didn't feel particularly compelled to answer that question.

So he decided to just leave the guy hanging without a response and began to descend the cliff, taking the slow route by simply walking.

Mr. Rondel put himself in the way, however. "I asked you a question."

Hector stopped and met his gaze evenly.

"Would you defend Lorent from invaders?" he repeated.

"Would the Vanguard?" asked Hector.

Carl's dark eyes narrowed.

The tense silence lasted long enough for the non-servants in the survey team to begin catching up. They seemed to sense that something was amiss and gradually slowed their pace even further as they approached.

At length, Ravi seized the opening. "I am sure Mr. Rondel meant no offense, Lord Goffe. He is merely eager to hear what your ultimate decision will be with regard to this historic offer that has been made to you."

Carl and Ravi exchanged looks but not words.

Garovel chose to chime in publicly. 'And we meant no offense, either. We appreciate that the Vanguard is in a difficult position, at the moment, and we sympathize.'

That seemed to smooth things over well enough for Mr. Rondel to stop glaring at them, but the expression on the man's face was still far from warm.

The survey continued on foot for a while longer until they reached a main road. A group of vehicles were already there for them. They had left these behind earlier in order to get a closer look at what Jagwa's wilderness had to offer, and the drivers had been following them in the distance all the while, waiting for the chance to link back up with them.

Naturally, there was still plenty more land left to explore. They used the cars to go a bit farther before setting out on foot again. Hector tried telling the non-servants to hang back, but they were adamant about accompanying him.

This pattern of walking, then driving, then walking again repeated a couple more times before Hanton's voice arrived in Hector's head once more.

'I sense something peculiar,' the Sparrow said.

That was enough for Hector to ask Hanton for directions. The Sparrow rendered himself visible in order to do so, and Hector was briefly concerned that others would notice him, but apparently, Hanton was able to pick and choose who could actually see him. So for everyone but Hector, the Lord Gaolanet remained invisible.

Their destination was in the middle of an enormous plain, where the land depressed ever so slightly around the base of a lone tree.

But what a tree it was.

It rivaled even the largest ones that Hector had seen in Imara Forest, which included the Riverton, P.J. and all the gargantuan building-supporters that had been there. This one here looked like it was about ten or more stories tall, and its canopy of yellow-green leaves could probably shade half a city block by itself.

Still, though, it seemed like a pretty normal tree. Not supernatural.

Hanton's clarification arrived on its own. 'The tree isn't what's peculiar. There's something in its trunk. Or rather, a lack of something. The aura is distinctly empty. Missing.'

Hector didn't quite understand. The others were still catching up, so he asked in a low voice, "So the trunk is hollow?"

'No,' said Hanton. 'The absence of aura means more than just empty air. Or even a vacuum, potentially. Everything has an aura. The aura of the planet itself should fill any and all "gaps" like this. So the fact that it's still there means that there must be something quite strange inside this tree.'

Hector's gaze went up the length of the trunk as he stepped over one of the roots that was jutting partway out of the ground. Something inside it, huh? Well, it was wide enough to conceal a small house--or several, perhaps, stacked on top of each other.

'Hmm,' hummed Garovel privately. 'Now that we're this close to it, I can sense something a little odd inside there, too.'

He and Garovel circled around the base of the tree together, looking for anything out of the ordinary. He never really considered himself a nature lover, exactly, but this was a pretty magnificent specimen, he felt. And he would hate to have to tear into its trunk.

"How big is this mysterious thing inside of it?" Hector asked.

'Hmm, tough to say,' said Hanton. 'The gap in the aura seems relatively large to me. About the size of a car, perhaps. But the gap may not be reflective of the size of the object that is responsible for its creation. For all I know, it could be something quite small.'

'Hector.' Garovel pointed a skeletal finger.

He couldn't tell what the reaper was trying to show him at first, until he noticed a small hole in the tree, no bigger than a cat. Hector approached it, squinting and trying to discern what it was, if anything.

Something was there, beneath the wood. It looked like the bark of the tree had crowded over it, as if from slow growth over time. But what was that? It was a faded brown color and almost looked like it was just what the wood inside the tree looked like, but it was too uniform. Too flat.

He tried focusing on what the Scarf could tell him, but he doubted that there would be enough space for any air to flow through. It looked pretty solid, and--

No.

There was space. Slight, but it was there.

"...I think there's a door behind this," said Hector, close enough to touch the bark now.

Yep. The tree had grown very tightly over it, but he could still sense a bunch of tiny gaps between the flat wood of the door and the uneven wood of the tree.

That was a pretty weirdly shaped doorknob, though. It was just a long cylinder. A stick, really. Not like anything he'd seen before--or sensed, in this case.

'Welp,' said Garovel, readying a hand over Hector's shoulder, 'in that case, looks like you've gotta yank some of this bark off. Wanna use materialization or brute strength?'

Hector hesitated. 'You don't think the Lorentians will be upset if I just start hacking away at this thing?'

Garovel spared them a glance. 'Well, Carl and Ravi are on their phones again, and they're trying to give this land to you, anyway. I doubt they'll care.'

Still, Hector held back. 'And what if we find something in there that suddenly MAKES them care?'

'Oh, you mean if we find something so good that it makes them take their offer off the table entirely? I figured that was the point of them coming with us in the first place, so it can't really be helped.'

'There's that, too,' said Hector. 'But I meant, like... what if Carl and Ravi tell the Vanguard and Abolish about whatever we find here?'

'Oh, I'm sure they will. Especially Carl. Seems like a real prick, that guy.'

'I mean, he would just be doing his job...'

'A loyal prick, then.'

Hector deliberately avoided looking in their direction and instead relied on the Scarf to observe them. They hardly seemed to be paying attention to him now, but he knew that their reapers were still with them even though the Scarf couldn't pick them up.

'So what should we do, then?' asked Hector.

'Start hacking away.'

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

'Really?'

'Sure. Whatever's in there probably isn't all THAT crazy, and even if it is, well... we can ask Hanton for a favor.'

Hector's expression hardened. 'Garovel...'

'As a last resort, that is.'

With how casually the reaper was bringing it up, Hector got the impression that Garovel had considered this possibility before they even set out.

He really didn't like the idea of allowing Hanton to mess with anyone's memories, but he could also see Garovel's point about how it might be necessary. If it could prevent Abolish or the Vanguard from coming down on Lorent like a sack of bricks, then maybe...

Agh. Dammit.

'Well, we already know something is here, so maybe we should cut this expedition short and take the deal,' said Hector. 'Then we can come back later to investigate it when we don't have a tail.'

'I'm still not convinced that whatever this thing is would make the deal worth pissing off the Queen,' the reaper said. 'And honestly, I was hoping that we could use what we find here in order to temper her anger. Our relationship with her is one of the most important things we have, you know. If this fuckin' thing turns out to be a big pile of shit, then I don't think it'll help us convince her of how much we still love her.'

Hector gave a muted sigh. 'Alright, well, maybe we could cut the expedition short, tell them we haven't made up our minds yet, and then sneak back out here later on our own.'

The reaper was quiet a moment. 'Heh, yeah, we could do that.' The tone of his voice, however, was implying something else. Something unsaid.

And Hector waited for elaboration that never arrived. His eyes went to Carl and Ravi, who were steadily drawing closer. 'But?' he pushed.

'But... I'm kinda curious to know what these nosy buggers following us will have to say about this thing, too.'

'Garovel, are you fucking serious?'

'What?'

'You're playing with fire. What if they tell their bosses about this place, and then a whole bunch of super strong servants show up to check it out?'

'Eh, there's no risk of that when we can just wipe all their memories.'

Hector's jaw clenched as he glared at the reaper. 'The Sparrows' memory wipes don't always work, remember? One of them could resist it.'

'That's highly unlikely.'

'Yeah, and knowing our luck, that means it's a virtual certainty!'

'You're being a real drama king, right now, y'know that?'

'Garovel!'

'Look, it's barely a risk at all,' said Garovel. 'And who knows what juicy things we might be able to learn from those two and their reapers? And I'm referring to more than just this tree artifact, by the way. They could probably tell us all sorts of useful things about what their organizations are up to. Not to mention the war. We would just need to get them talking.'

Hector's expression relaxed a little, but he still couldn't say that he liked what he was hearing.

'And whatever this thing is--it'll probably make for a pretty good conversation piece, eh?'

Hector frowned. The others were getting quite close now. If he was going to do anything about it, he would have to make his decision now.

He turned away from the tree. "Let's call it here for the day," he said loud enough for everyone to hear.

Carl and Ravi both looked at him, as did their reapers, but none of them were saying anything.

He wondered if it might not already be too late. Still worth a shot, though, he felt. He started walking back in the direction they'd come, aiming to join up with the rest of the group's stragglers.

'Hector, what are you doing?' said Garovel privately.

'If you want to pump them for information, then fine, but let's come up with a less risky way of going about it. And we should give Hanton a heads up, too. I'm sure he'd be willing to help us as long as it means acquiring information that'll help protect Atreya.'

'Hmph. Y'know, when I told you that I wanted you to act like a lord, I didn't mean that you should start bossing ME around.'

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

It was snowing yet again up in the Omarest Mountain Range, and their giant cabin was without power for the tenth day running. That old bastard claimed that this was another one of his "family bonding exercises," but Francisco Elroy was beginning to think that the guy just didn't have enough fuel for the generator, anymore.

Maybe that was absurd, though. Damian Rofal still kept bringing them plenty of food, and made sure that everyone knew how to build a fire. It had been a few years since Cisco had received instruction on that matter, and he thought it best to play along as if he didn't know anything.

The old man was a surprisingly patient teacher. Cisco watched him work with each and every one of the other Rofals, even Dunstan, who clearly did not wish to be here even more passionately than Cisco did.

But it was precisely because of the biting cold that Dunstan couldn't just ignore the rest of his family as he had tried to do in the early portion of their stay here. Everyone had to huddle together for warmth, especially at night.

Ridiculously enough, however, the old man's plan actually seemed to be working. As far as Cisco could tell, the Rofals were getting along a lot better than they were at the beginning. Where before they had been dismissive or insulting of one another, now they were talking more and even laughing.

Cisco and Dunstan were still the odd ones out, though.

Dunstan's hatred for his family was not going to go away anytime soon, Cisco felt. There was something very deep there.

Rezamaar, Dunstan's rather loudmouthed reaper, was more conciliatory in her disposition towards them, but seeing as they were all normal humans who couldn't see or interact with her, that didn't accomplish much. If anything, it just seemed to annoy Dunstan even more.

And since Cisco was Dunstan's "friend," he ended up being lumped in with him.

All in all, it was a strange state of affairs, being trapped in this place with little more to do than observe a bunch of purported criminals who were mostly just trying to ignore him--probably because they were afraid of Dunstan now.

Ever since Dunstan manhandled Elwood and threatened to kill him--his own cousin--all of the other Rofals were clearly wary of him. When he entered a room, they typically left.

Apart, perhaps, from one: Grandma Rofal, Damian's wife. She didn't seem too bothered by Dunstan's presence at all.

And Cisco was left to wonder why that might be. She wasn't even hesitant around him. She just said whatever she felt like, even if it meant insulting someone, Dunstan included. And Cisco could tell that she managed to get under his skin a few times, too.

Maybe she just didn't think that Dunstan would hurt an old lady like her. If so, she was probably right. And if not, well. Maybe she just wasn't really thinking about the potential consequences of her actions. That would make a worrying amount of sense, too. As much of a lunatic as her husband was, she definitely wasn't totally sane, either.

But of course, if anyone laid a hand on her, Cisco could only imagine what Damian would do.

If it wasn't clear enough to him before, it was certainly clear to him now. Damian was no normal servant. That old man had real strength. More than Cisco had ever personally seen. The noticeable field density of the man's soul already made that point obvious, but the occasional sparring sessions that he held with everyone had really nailed that point home.

Damian had been training everyone in the usage of these rings that he'd gifted them. The red shadows that could be summoned out of them were incredibly malleable, and Cisco could see incremental improvement from everyone across the board. They could make the shadows move faster and create more sophisticated shapes. And Damian promised to take them to still further heights.

Perhaps that was another reason why the old man's "bonding" strategy seemed to be working. These Rofals clearly enjoyed what the shadows allowed them to do. And the prospect that they might become yet more powerful? Music to their ears, no doubt.

And if they grew sufficiently confident in their newfound abilities, then Cisco had no doubt that their attitudes toward Dunstan and him would also change--and not for the better.

In that sense, perhaps it was good that the Rofals had gotten to see what the two of them were really capable of. The enhanced strength, regenerating limbs, hand-to-hand martial abilities, and element transfiguration--they got to see it all.

Because Damian hadn't allowed them to hold back when he tested them.

The old man was a monster. Even when holding back, not using his ability, Damian could fight them both at once with only his bare hands. Cisco knew that age was deceptive when it came to servants, but even so, it was surprising all the same. When the vigor was running through him, the man could move like Cisco had never seen. Even working together and having enhanced strength of their own, Dunstan and Cisco could barely lay a finger on the old bastard.

That wasn't just the undead vigor accomplishing that. And sure, the difference in passive soul defense played a part, too, but that couldn't account for the gap being so massive.

No. He might've been crazier than a drugged-out chimpanzee, but Damian Rofal was a truly experienced warrior.

And odd as it was, Cisco had been learning a lot from him. Footwork, weight distribution, body stabilization, distance control, and especially grappling were all frequent subjects of instruction.

He'd learned a few unarmed killing techniques from his father when he was younger, but with this training, it felt like anything could be turned into a killing technique in combination with his fluorine transfiguration ability. One solid grapple, and the enemy would be completely at his mercy or dead.

In theory, anyway. Nothing he had learned so far had actually worked on Damian unless the man allowed it to for the purpose of demonstration.

And, of course, when Damian started using his ability, their training went straight to hell.

It was like trying to fight an invisible puppet. A puppet which could also transform into a wall. Or a blade. Or a storm. Or a hole in reality itself, perhaps.

Even after fighting the old man multiple times now, Cisco still couldn't tell what Damian's ability actually was. Nor could Dunstan.

Damian could make objects float through the air as if through telekinesis. He could freeze the boys in place, as if trapping them in invisible stone. He could sever limbs with only a look--or even crush them into nothingness.

That was the most alarming thing that they had seen, without a doubt. On one occasion, the man had seemingly atomized one of Dunstan's arms. Or vaporized it. Or teleported it to some unknown location. Just from looking, there was no telling what had actually happened.

Rezamaar and Dennex seemed to think it was an alteration ability that harnessed some kind of force that was as yet unknown to modern science.

And if that was true, then it wasn't very helpful information.

They tried simply asking Damian what it was directly, but he never gave them a straight answer. Usually, he just acted like he didn't hear them or changed the subject or just spouted some insane non sequitur.

Which was another subject unto itself.

Damian was definitely crazy. But sometimes, Cisco got the feeling that he was leaning into it, that he was pretending to be more insane than he actually was. Cisco had been noticing that there were some moments where he was extremely sharp. Not to mention the fact that this ridiculous family bonding exercise was actually somehow working.

Cisco began to wonder if there was more knowledge and wisdom concealed in even some of the crazier things that came out of his mouth. Some hidden messages. Or veiled truths, maybe.

And so, when the day came that the power in the cabin turned back on and Damian said that he had something very important to tell everyone, Cisco was paying close attention.

"You have all been making wonderful progress," said Damian. "And as such, I think the time will soon come when we have our first, true family outing!"

A chorus of uncertain mumbles ran through the audience, and Cisco and Dunstan exchanged looks.

They didn't need words. They both understood the implications. Any chance at freedom was a chance to escape the old man's clutches. Ideas were already forming in Cisco's head about how they might be able to accomplish it, and he had no doubt Dunstan was the same.

Unfortunately, ideas of how impossible it might be were also forming. Dunstan hadn't tried to conceal his dislike for their current circumstances. Damian had to know that Dunstan would want to escape.

"And in celebration of this magnificent step forward--" The old man raised his left hand somewhat, and the front door of the cabin swung open. "--I've decided that it's time to give you all more presents!"

A line of various electronics came floating into the cabin, all bobbing up and down in the air as if in tune with some silent music.

"I know how much you young folk hate being 'off the grid,' as they say," said Damian. "So I figured that it was about time I let you reconnect with the world a little. But only a little! Okay?! Don't abuse this privilege, or Grandpa will have to punish you!" And he smiled wide.

A flat screen television hovered right into Cisco's hands.

One of the younger Rofals, a teenage boy named Ricky, looked ecstatic as a tablet floated toward him. "Wow, Grandpa! Thanks!"

"You're welcome, my boy!"

Ricky's apparent enthusiasm turned to curiosity. "But do we even have an ISP way out here in the mountains?"

Damian blinked at him. "Hmm? An ISP? Wazzat?"

And from there, it became quickly apparent that the old man didn't actually know much about modern electronics.

On the one hand, Cisco was surprised by his ignorance, but on the other, he wasn't at all.

Hmm. Maybe that could prove useful in making their escape, Cisco thought. There was a pretty good chance that Feromas, Damian's reaper, wouldn't know much about electronics, either. It seemed like most reapers weren't terribly knowledgeable about modern technologies.

"In any event," Damian continued, "before I let you all play with your new toys, I should tell you that. Well. There've been some pretty big developments in the world. So try not to freak out too much if and when you turn on the news."

"What are you talking about?" said Dunstan.

Grandpa Rofal's eyes snapped to Dunstan, who was standing right next to him. His smile broadened, and he patted the young man on the head, which Dunstan batted away. "Well, y'see, sonny, the second great Eloan war has begun."

"What?!" exclaimed Dunstan.

And he wasn't the only one.

The others had questions, too, and they did not hesitate to ask them.

Five nations. All coincidentally Abolish-influenced. Invading their neighbors simultaneously.

And the continent was in chaos.

Cisco didn't know what to think. While he'd been lounging around in these snowy mountains, the world out there was burning down?

A moment ago, he'd been hoping to find news of what had happened in Sair, to the Rainlords, to his family. But now, he wondered if that would even be possible. News this big must've been dominating every station.

If he had internet access, that wouldn't have been a problem, but that still seemed like it was off the table.

And indeed, after Damian finally let them disperse, Cisco plugged his new television into an outlet in the room that he and Dunstan had been sharing, and the only news he could find was of this war that Damian had just told them about. It didn't help that he only had five channels to go through.

But one thing, at least, was clear. Sair was directly involved in this war.

His homeland had been invaded.

Why, though? Because the country had been weakened by the Vanguard's attack on his kin?

That had to be it. This timing couldn't be a coincidence.

For a long time, he just sat there on the edge of his bed. Thinking. Barely even listening to the television as the anchors and reporters began to repeat their vague explanations.

His parents were right.

He'd always been an obedient son. For the most part, at least. He never openly questioned their teachings. Even from a very young age, he'd understood the value of what they were trying to instill in him. Discipline. Vigilance. Preparedness.

If anything, it was his little brother Marcos who never quite seemed to understand. So Cisco had tried his best to help him. Not to coddle him. To show him how to be stronger. Even if it meant that the little brat thought he was a jerk.

But now, hearing about all this, Cisco realized that somewhere in the back of his mind, he had doubted his parents. Silently. He'd wanted to complain. To act like Marcos did. To be childish. Because he was a child, wasn't he? That was only fair, wasn't it?

Man.

He felt like he'd had some kind of grand epiphany, all of a sudden. Like he was waking up after having been asleep his whole life.

This was what it meant to be a Rainlord. This understanding.

It was in everything that he'd been taught. The history of his kin. Besieged. How many times had that land been invaded? How many tales had he heard of one war or another?

He could feel it in his bones. The pull of his ancestors.

It was his turn. As it had been theirs so many times before.

Cisco didn't have to wonder. That was what his father would tell him if he were here, right now. He knew it was.

'...Cisco, look at me,' came the private words from Dennex.

Cisco did so, moving his eyes but not his head. The reaper was floating right there next to the television.

A skeletal wolf wreathed in black flames, as always.

And yet... Cisco blinked. Did Dennex look different, somehow? A bit smaller, perhaps?

His eyes were probably just playing tricks on him.

'Are you okay?' the reaper asked him.

The answer to that was relative, he felt, but he decided to just say, 'I'm fine.'

'You have been staring at that television for over two hours now.'

Ah.

'And I have been calling out to you for the past five minutes straight.'

Ahhh.

Cisco leaned back on his bed and stretched his arms. 'I guess I was a bit lost in thought.'

'Listen. Anyone would be unsettled after learning what we have.' Dennex hovered over him and stared down into his eyes with his hollow ones. 'But shutting me out is not how you cope with it, my boy. I am not just your reaper, understand? I am your friend. And over the course of our time together, we may go through many more things like this. It is important that you lean on me. It is what I am here for.'

Cisco scratched the back of his own neck. 'What's there to talk about? Our family's in trouble, and we can't do anything about it. It's pretty straightforward, isn't it?'

'We can make ourselves ready for the time when we CAN do something about it.'

'I've been meditating every single day. And for more hours than I ever have before. Are you saying I need to do it even--?'

A shift in the Dantean news program on TV caught his attention. For the first time that Cisco had seen, the mustachioed anchor was brightening up--smiling, even. For the first time that Cisco had seen, the man wasn't talking about the war.

Dennex must've noticed the change in Cisco's demeanor, because he also turned to look at the television.

The infographic next to the anchor's head read thus:

Beast of Lorent slain by Atreyan Hero

The accompanying image was that of an award ceremony. The anchor explained that the President of Lorent had granted one of the country's highest honors to someone two days ago, in recognition of an act of heroism that surprisingly had nothing to do with the continental war.

And then they showed actual footage of this ceremony.

Apparently, this hero was the young black guy standing there with a big scarf around his neck. They must've mentioned his name, but Cisco didn't catch it.

He was too busy staring with widening eyes at the person behind him.

That was Matteo Delaguna right there.

Cisco had met him many times. And sparred with him, too. Only to get his ass kicked.

Not that he'd been the only one.

Matteo was a wrestling prodigy, already distinguished among the Rainlords. Cisco distinctly remembered him from an interhouse tournament between the Sebolts, Delagunas, Garzas, Strouds, Zabats, and well, him, the lone Elroy. It had been almost two years ago now, but it had left a lasting impression on him.

On his ego, in particular.

He remembered feeling like he was pretty hot shit before that tournament. Struggling in the first round and losing in the second had corrected that problem.

Well, okay, maybe it hadn't.

But he'd certainly gained considerable respect for the finalists--and most of all the winner, Matteo.

Cisco also remembered hearing all the other boys talk about him, about how it was only a matter of time before the rest of the world began to take notice of him, too. The sound of resigned admiration in their voices had made Cisco indignant, like he wanted to disagree with them for no reason.

No. Not for no reason. Because he was jealous. And childish, perhaps.

But seeing him on television now... it looked like they were right.

'Dennex...'

The reaper didn't require elaboration. 'What in the world is he doing there?'

'That's what I'd like to know.'