Chapter One Hundred Fifty-Six: ‘O, banneret of the Underworld...’

“You see,” said the Hun’Sho man named Torveis with a hand over his open chest cavity, “as long as we have this, we do not require sustenance as you do.”

Hector stared with wide eyes as he listened. The man’s chest was largely hollow, apart from two dark, pulsing lungs and a small, glowing sphere suspended where the heart should have been. There were no bones or muscles. There wasn’t even any blood, unless a few streaks of dripping lava counted.

“And if I do this--” Torveis breathed in deeply, visibly inflating his lungs. The magma coating the outside of his body suddenly retracted inward, filling his open chest so completely that he had to close it again before it started leaking out of the front hole he’d made earlier. “--Well, you can see the result.”

Hector didn’t know what to say. On the outside, at least, the man no longer looked like a being of molten rock. Torveis looked far more normal--relatively speaking, at least.

In fact, he looked uncannily similar to the Hun’Kui. The ashy gray skin tone, the glowing eyes. The only real differences that Hector could spot were that the glow was more orange than white and that it wasn’t just the eyes glowing but also the mouth and several other porous marks all along the man’s arms, legs, and chest.

He didn’t think he should bring up the Hun’Kui, though.

“So that little round thing in there makes it so you don’t ever need food?” Hector decided to ask instead.

“Yes,” said Torveis. “As a matter of fact, I imagine that most of us here in Himmekel did not even understand the concept of food until Carver first appeared.”

“That just seems crazy to me...”

“At times, however, we may choose to absorb extra rock in order to replenish any core magma that we may have lost. So perhaps you may find that similar.”

“Hmm. How would you lose your, uh... core magma?”

“Overexertion or being wounded, perhaps.”

“Huh...” Hector wondered what qualified as a wound, then. He noticed that the big hole that Torveis’ had made in his chest had sealed back up already. And the man hadn’t seemed particularly concerned about ripping his own skin open, either.

‘This is the first time I have ever seen a Hun’Sho’s core in person,’ said Garovel, who had been hovering by Hector’s side. ‘It was quite bold of you to show us, was it not? And awfully trusting, too.’

“Trusting?” Magma began gradually accumulating all over Torveis’ body again, oozing out of the holes in his skin--thankfully not through the eyes or mouth, though. “Ah, do you mean in the event that you decided to attack me?”

‘Pretty much, yeah,’ said Garovel. ‘Not that we would do such a thing, of course.’

Torveis tilted his head. “I had not considered that, but I suppose you are right. All of the surface-dwellers whom I have met have struck me as quite trustworthy, and you are no different, I feel.”

‘Kind words, thank you,’ said Garovel. ‘But I would still prefer you to exercise more caution in the future. Even if it is rather durable on its own, your core is still your greatest vulnerability. And let me assure you, there are plenty of surface-dwellers who are most definitely NOT deserving of your trust.’

Torveis laughed lightly. “My brethren have often berated me for my carelessness as well, but I shall try to take your words into consideration.”

Hector had a question now. “What is that thing, exactly? Y-your core, I mean. Like, what’s it made out of?”

‘Rock and ardor, no?’ said Garovel.

“That is correct,” said Torveis. “It is said that Avar himself bestowed it upon us, giving birth to the first of our people.”

“Avar?” said Hector. “Not the Heart of the World? I mean, it's just--I would’ve guessed, ah... er... considering it’s like your actual heart and everything...”

“Ah. Yes, I suppose now that you mention it, there are those who believe it was the work of the Heart of the World, instead.”

“But you believe it was Avar?”

“I do,” said Torveis.

“Why?”

Torveis laughed again. “Well, there are many reasons. For one, Avar is far more benevolent and righteous than the Heart of the World. Much more deserving of my belief, I feel. And for another, I have seen Avar in my dreams. I have even spoken to him there.”

Hector didn’t have a response for that.

Garovel did, though. ‘Are you sure those weren’t just, y’know, dreams?’

“Aha, perhaps they were,” said Torveis. “But I see that it is as I have heard, regarding the cynicism of your kind.”

‘Sorry if that was rude,’ said Garovel. ‘But I won’t deny that I’m very doubtful of religion in general. It’s nothing personal, if that makes you feel any better.’

“It does not,” said Torveis, though he was laughing again.

‘Ah.’ Garovel looked at Hector briefly before returning to Torveis. ‘I’ve heard that your core is also how you keep track of time. Is that true?’

“Ah, indeed, it is,” said Torveis. “I am sure it was simply moving too slowly for you notice when you were looking at it a moment ago, but my core spins in synchronicity with the planet.”

‘Yeah, I’ve heard that as well. Glad to know I wasn’t lied to.’

Hector was having a hard time wrapping his head around that one. “How does it--? Ah... I mean, how does your core sync with the whole planet? That’s, uh...? I don’t understand...”

“We are close to the planet,” said Torveis.

That didn’t really help, Hector felt.

“I would tell you that this, too, is Avar’s blessing, but I fear that Garovel here would challenge me.”

That made the reaper chuckle. ‘So what does the God of Fire tell you in these dreams of yours, then?’

Torveis folded his arms. “I am not certain I wish to tell you.”

‘Oh, come on, I’m genuinely curious. And I may not believe you, but I’m sure Hector does. He’s super gullible.’

“Wow, Garovel, really?” said Hector.

Torveis looked at Hector. “Jests aside, is that true? Do you believe me?”

Hector tried not to look like a deer in the headlights. “Uh, I... I don’t know yet. But, ah... I’m trying to keep an open mind, I guess.”

“And you would be convinced if you heard what Avar said to me?”

Hector bobbed his head to the side. “Depends on what he said. I shouldn’t promise to be convinced before I even hear it, should I?”

“Aha, I suppose not. Very well, I shall tell you.”

Truthfully, Hector was still mainly hung up on the whole “core of life that spins with the planet” thing, but it didn’t seem like Torveis was the one who would be able to explain that to him--at least, not in a way that he understood. Maybe it was something he would ask Emiliana about later. Assuming she ever intended to speak to him again.

“Avar’s message was one of great hope,” Torveis went on. “He said unto me that my people should take heart, for though we have struggled and been hurt for many long years now, He will return for us when the time is right.”

Not the most persuasive, Hector felt, especially that bit at the end. He could only imagine how Garovel’s doubt was growing.

Torveis had more. “He also said that the time is near, as He has already reawakened into this world.”

‘Mm,’ said Garovel. ‘How long ago did he tell you this?’

Torveis’ molten lips pressed together briefly. “...About three hundred years ago, I suppose.”

Garovel was at least considerate enough to keep his roaring laughter private.

“If I am to be completely honest,” said Torveis, “it has been almost as many years since Avar last spoke to me. Which, I admit, is somewhat disheartening, but I believe it may be caused by his reawakening. Perhaps the reason he no longer appears in my dreams is because he is himself no longer slumbering.”

That... kind of made sense, if Hector wanted to be generous. And maybe it was just the result of Garovel’s sustained and echoing guffaw, but Hector was starting to feel bad for Torveis. “Ah... d-do you know what Avar looks like? Or maybe what He will look like when he returns for you?”

“I do not know if He will retain the same form when he arrives, but in my dreams, he appeared before me as a great and majestic bird.”

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Garovel’s laughter abruptly cut off. ‘You know what birds look like?’ he said publicly.

“...Ah, yes, one of the surface-dwellers described them to me. I am afraid I cannot recall which, but I remember them speaking of many of your animals from the surface.”

And Hector noticed Garovel’s brief silence.

‘But Carver only arrived here five years ago,’ the reaper said, ‘and you said the last time Avar spoke to you was around three hundred years ago.’

“Yes. I was only able to recognize His form in retrospect.”

‘I see,’ said Garovel. ‘Pretty strange how Avar would choose to appear to you in the form of an animal you’d never seen before.’

“Such is His vast knowledge and power,” said Torveis. “Perhaps He thought I would be less moved by His presence if He took the form of an animal I had previously seen.”

‘That would make sense. But I was beginning to wonder--or dare I say, HOPE--that you had been to the surface, yourself. I would have been extremely interested to hear what your opinion of the surface world was after having seen it with your own eyes.’

For a moment, Torveis just looked at him. “I should like to go there, one day, but as yet, I am afraid I have not.”

‘Pity.’

And a suddenly heavy silence drew out.

‘He’s probably lying,’ said Garovel privately. ‘This man has been to the surface before.’

Hector had about a dozen questions, the first of which was, ‘Hun’Sho can survive on the surface?’

‘Yeah. Their magma lets them regulate their body temperature pretty efficiently.’

‘Why would he lie about that?’

‘I don’t know, and that’s what’s bothering me.’

‘Maybe Avar really did take the form of a bird in his dreams.’

‘Yeah, sure.’

Torveis revived the conversation. “Perhaps you could tell me of more animals from the surface. I have heard that you have quite a large variety, compared to the Undercrust.”

‘Heh, he’s a really good liar,’ said Garovel, still privately. Then he switched over to public voice. ‘That’s true. The environment on the surface is a bit more forgiving, though it can be dangerous in many other ways.’

“I am intrigued. Please do tell me more.”

And Hector just listened as Garovel did so. The reaper spoke of many different animals, some of which Hector didn’t know much about himself and therefore was almost as interested to learn of as Torveis appeared to be.

But all the while, Hector couldn’t help feeling as if a shadow had been cast over the conversation, as if it were mostly just an act now.

He wondered if Garovel was right, and Torveis really had been lying; or if that was just Garovel’s cynical bias, and Torveis really had seen the God of Fire in his dreams before ever knowing what a bird looked like. Of course, he was much more inclined to believe Garovel, if only because he barely even knew Torveis, but still, it was pretty obvious now that Garovel didn’t know everything. Even if the reaper liked to say otherwise.

At length, a new voice arrived.

“Lord Darksteel.” It was Manuel Delaguna and his reaper, Lorios. They were also accompanied by the non-servant woman from before, whose name Hector had since learned was Elise Garza.

Hector noticed the look on Manuel’s face first. “Is something wrong?”

Lorios floated forward and addressed Torveis. ‘We apologize for interrupting, but might we borrow these two from you for a minute?’

“But of course,” said Torveis, gesturing with one hand. “I feel I should apologize for monopolizing them to myself for quite some time now.”

Hector and Garovel excused themselves and followed Manuel out of the building.

Hector got to wondering about Torveis as they walked. Certainly, the man was not lacking in politeness. Most of the Hun’Sho were like that, it seemed, but Torveis in particular had struck Hector as even more so. Somehow, it made Hector not want to even humor the idea that the man had been lying to them.

But then, wouldn’t that be what a liar wanted? Wouldn’t that be a compelling reason for a liar to go out of their way to be polite in the first place?

Then again, Hector knew that he wasn’t exactly a paragon of honesty, himself. He’d told plenty of his own lies, hadn’t he? Some quite recently.

Whatever the case, Hector figured he shouldn’t jump to any conclusions or rush to any judgments.

Manuel’s group remained mostly quiet en route to Carver’s biosphere.

‘So why did you come to get us?’ asked Garovel along the way.

“It was at Lord Diego’s behest,” said Manuel. “He also said to not go near any mirrors.”

‘...What?’

“I can’t say I fully understand, either,” said Manuel. “But he didn’t seem like he was joking. He has gone to retrieve the Water Dragon. He said he will explain further once we have all gathered.”

Hector needed a moment to remember who “the Water Dragon” referred to. The last time he heard someone call Zeff that was at Dunehall when Ivan, of all people, said it.

When they made it back to the biosphere, Diego was not there, so they decided to take a seat in the main room and wait for him.

Hector reworked his armor for the cooler environment instead of simply removing it. Heavy though it was, he was beginning to feel more comfortable with it on than with it off, perhaps because he had spent so much time learning to materialize it perfectly around his body. No longer did it feel too bulky around his torso, too tight around his neck, or too loose around his feet. Best of all, though, he had finally managed to curve and interweave the joints just right so that they stopped pinching him when they touched. Even with a thick layer of cloth for added protection, that had occasionally been a nuisance.

He still wanted to try out some different styles of visors for his helmet, though. Perhaps he could still improve his visibility in some way.

“Lord Darksteel?” came a feminine voice. It of course belonged to Elise Garza, who was staring at him. “Why do you keep your armor on? Are you afraid we will attack you?”

Oh shit. He hadn’t even considered what they might be thinking. What was he supposed to say here? ‘Garovel, help...’

‘Of course we aren’t worried about that,’ said Garovel. ‘But my “Lord Darksteel” here is ever vigilant, you see. We have had some rather nasty surprises in the past, and perhaps as a result of that, he has developed a habit of keeping his guard up even when things seem peaceful.’

She couldn’t hear any of that, of course, as she was not a servant, but Manuel was kind enough to relay it to her.

Hector breathed silently in relief.

‘You like that bullshit I came up with?’ said Garovel privately. ‘Pretty impressive, huh?’

Hector had to admit, the speed at which the reaper had answered her was surprising. ‘Am I crazy, or did you seem... prepared for that question?’

‘Heh. You’re really keeping that armor on because it gives you something to hide in, no?’

Hector wanted to deny it, but he couldn’t.

‘That’s what I thought.’ The reaper floated over to Hector’s other shoulder. ‘Don’t mind me. I’ll just continue being incredible over here, if you need anything else.’

“Lord Darksteel.” This time it was Manuel again. “Might I ask what you think of these Hun’Sho people so far?”

Okay, this “Lord Darksteel” business was getting a little out of hand, Hector felt. As awkwardly flattering as it was, he figured he should tell them--

‘I would be interested to hear your opinion as well, Lord Darksteel,’ said Lorios.

‘Yeah, Lord Darksteel,’ said Garovel, though he was still keeping his voice private. ‘Go on. Tell them what you think. And don’t tell them to call you Hector, either. I’ve had enough of that shit.’

‘What? Why not?’

‘They’re showing you respect. Just accept it gracefully like a proper lord would.’

‘But--’

‘Better hurry and answer ‘em. They’re waiting patiently.’

Hector had to force himself not to groan in exasperation. “Ah...”

Manuel, Elise, and Lorios were all looking at him.

Slow and deliberate speech, Hector reminded himself. Careful, measured words. He’d done it before in front of total assholes. He could do it again in front of these nice people. Probably.

Oh god.

“I think,” he heard himself say, “that... the Hun’Sho... are very polite.” Why the hell was that simple-ass sentence so difficult to get out? Agh. He had to give them more of his thoughts than just that, he knew. “Almost... too polite, actually.”

Manuel nodded. “I understand what you mean. I, too, have thought that they might be concealing something from us. Which is their right, I suppose, but given Lord Diego’s behavior... I am growing more concerned about them.”

“I have to agree,” said Elise. “And their treatment of the Hun’Kui is troubling, as well. It’s like the Hun’Sho are pretending they do not even exist.”

‘Sadly, I doubt there is much we can do to help them reconcile,’ said Lorios. ‘We should probably just be glad that they aren’t trying to kill each other.’

Hector was more than happy to just listen. He hadn’t gotten to know these three very well at all, which might have been why he found it more difficult to speak to them, compared to Zeff or Diego.

And after that conversation with Emiliana earlier, he supposed he was feeling even more self-conscious than usual. He really didn’t want to fuck things up with these people, too.

Though, a strong part of him still didn’t feel like he’d fucked up with Emiliana, either. He’d said what he’d wanted to say--and meant it. If she’d gotten mad at that, then, well...

Ugh.

There was one thing he knew for sure, at least. All this time, he’d been absolutely right to be terrified of social interaction.

“I am also concerned about what our kin in Capaporo are doing now,” said Manuel. “While a part of me is glad that they have not come for us in some haphazard fashion, I am also... surprised that they haven’t.”

‘What do you mean?’ said Garovel.

“Think of it,” said Manuel. “We are talking about the likes of Darktide, Grayguard, the Yellow Tempest, the Blue Bull, the Lord of the Drowning Sky, and the Lion of the Desert. Knowing what we know of these people, I find it difficult to believe that, even if they did believe us dead, they would not at least come searching for our corpses.”

Hector was beginning to notice a pattern with this Manuel fellow.

However, he had not heard a few of those names before. He didn’t know who Grayguard or the Yellow Tempest referred to, but the Blue Bull? Given what Hector remembered of the siege of Marshrock, that name could have only belonged to Salvador Delaguna. The man’s size alone accounted for the animal, and his cobalt transfiguration power accounted for the color. And the Lord of the Drowning Sky? That was a strange name, but he couldn’t imagine that it belonged to anyone other than Dimas Sebolt. That man’s aerial mobility was unmatched by any other Rainlord whom Hector had met--arguably any other servant he had met.

“So what are you saying?” said Elise. “Do you believe something is preventing them from coming after us?”

“Possibly,” said Manuel. “It has been nearly three days, yet none of the reapers have sensed them.”

‘I think you are worrying too much,’ said Lorios. ‘They could be searching for us right now and simply having trouble finding us. We fell a long way, remember? Not to mention all the monsters above us right now, making it more difficult to sense anything or anyone specific.’

“That is true,” Manuel admitted. “But even so, I imagine Bloodhound would have been able to locate us by now.”

Okay, who the hell was Bloodhound? Hector wondered if Manuel was just making some of these names up himself.

He did find himself agreeing with Manuel, though. Especially with regard to Asad. After witnessing the lengths that the man had gone to for Zeff back in Sair, Hector doubted that even a nest of giant worms would prevent Asad from coming to help him again.

Oh, hey, maybe that was a way he could contribute to this conversation. He gathered his composure, waited for an opening, and said, “...I don’t think Asad would ever leave Zeff behind.”

“Yes,” said Manuel. “If recent events have proven anything, it is that the Lion and the Dragon care even more for one another than most of us realized.”

Hector couldn’t help smiling meekly beneath his helmet. Social interaction certainly was terrifying, but it wasn’t all bad, either.

He probably shouldn’t have been getting such a strong feeling of accomplishment for making such a minor contribution to the conversation, though, he figured.

Maybe he was just in a weird mood. Somehow, he felt like he was back in school again, attempting the impossible task of making friends with normal people.

After that, Hector wasn’t able to speak up much more, but that may have also been the result of the conversation simply not going anywhere else. It was mainly just the Rainlords expressing their worries more, and Hector didn’t feel terribly compelled to say anything else, not when it might just further increase that worry.

Unsurprisingly, Garovel did a much better job of trying to comfort them than he could have.

At length, Diego finally arrived, though the Lord Elroy was not with him.

‘Where’s Zeff?’ asked Garovel.

“I explained the situation to him, but he didn’t want to stop his work,” said Diego. “He’s determined to get us out of here as soon as possible and doesn’t seem to care about much else, right now.”

Hector couldn’t say he was surprised.

“Will you explain the situation to us now?” said Elise. “We have been wondering what is going on for some time.”

“Of course.” Diego took a seat next to Hector. He explained about his encounter with the Hun’Sho named Jasirok and presented the pyramidal key known as a Kag for the group to examine. Then he told them about what he had witnessed.

A period of incredulity passed as the group asked for clarification, of which Diego and Yangéra could unfortunately provide little.

A giant hand appearing from a mirror.

A mirror?

Apparently, Hector wasn’t the only one to pick up on that coincidence, because Garovel was the first to ask, ‘Was there anything strange about the mirror?’

“Not that we noticed,” said Diego. “I didn’t think to examine the mirror too closely when I first saw it, but it seemed normal enough. After it happened, though, the mirror shattered instantly. I brought one of the pieces, if you want to see it for yourself.” He rifled through his pockets and retrieved a jagged mirror shard.

They passed it around, though Elise was kept away from it, in case it decided to do anything else unexpected. When Hector and Garovel got their chances to examine it, they didn’t see anything particularly notable about it. It certainly didn’t have the odd, foggy look to it that Hector recalled the Courier’s mirror having.

But maybe that didn’t matter. Maybe it’s power had left it after breaking.

Afterward, the group struggled to figure out their next move.

“It seems obvious enough that we should try to locate whatever lock this Kag goes to,” said Diego, “but we have no idea where to start looking. And from the way Jasirok was talking, it sounded like asking the other Hun’Sho for help might be a bad idea.”

“I agree,” said Elise. “As nice as they have been to us, I simply don’t trust them very much. They could decide to hinder our investigation rather than help it.”

The three reapers all seemed to concur.

“What about the Hun’Kui, then?” said Manuel. “They might be able to help us.”

“Ah, and I highly doubt they will tell the Hun’Sho of what we are doing,” added Elise.

On that point, Hector could agree. And those four Hun’Kui had been through hell with them, so there was at least a modicum of camaraderie to be had. His talk with Eleyo earlier had affirmed him of that much.

Still, he noticed Diego hesitating. And he wasn’t the only one who did.

“...Do you not trust the Hun’Kui, Lord Diego?” said Manuel.

“I don’t know,” the man said. “But I suppose asking for their help would allow us keep an eye on them.”

‘That’s true,’ said Yangéra. ‘Just don’t turn your back on them, everyone. Remember that they’re still strangers to us.’