Chapter One Hundred Ten: ‘O, curious devil...!’

Hector didn’t let Garovel anywhere near Ibai. Lord Dimas kept the unconscious Iziol on his back the whole time, but Hector didn’t have that much confidence. He had Garovel stay with Chergoa and the Elroys, instead.

The reason he’d volunteered was to see for himself whether or not this aberration could be trusted, but so far, there was little clarity to be found. Ibai didn’t do or say anything particularly volatile or dangerous, but perhaps that was only because they were all stuck in a limousine together as their host of Rainlords embarked on the long trip to Moaban.

The Blackburns had chosen Horatio and Silvia for their two bodyguards, and Ibai seemed to enjoy their company greatly, talking about all manner of subjects with them, asking their opinions about what would be fun to do together. Ibai acted like they were all going on a pleasant trip to an amusement park or something.

Hector didn’t much care for the aberration’s enthusiasm. Even if it wasn’t carrying malicious intent, it still reminded him of Geoffrey.

Eventually, Ibai rounded on Hector and Dimas.

“So what are your names?” he asked. “You never did tell me. Mine’s Ibai, but I bet you knew that, eh?”

Hector didn’t feel like answering, and apparently, neither did Dimas.

Ibai’s smile lessened somewhat. “Mm. You don’t like me. I get it. Some of my own family members don’t like me very much, either. Fidel, for instance. I always beat him when we thumb wrestle. He hates that.”

Was that supposed to be a joke? Or did he actually think that way? Hector honestly couldn’t tell. Maybe it was a bit of both.

At their continued silence, Ibai shrugged. “You two don’t like to talk much, do you? I understand. And I don’t want you to worry, either! I thought this might happen, so I came prepared!” The man reached behind his seat and began pulling out several long, flat boxes.

They were all board games, Hector realized.

Hector didn’t need to refuse to talk anymore. He was genuinely speechless. This fucking guy had brought board games to play with the two people who would kill him if he did anything wrong.

“See?” said Ibai. “This way, you don’t have to talk. You can let the game speak for you!”

Hector couldn’t decide if this was one of the stupidest ideas he’d ever seen or one of the most brilliant.

“What should we play? Hmm, maybe not Monopoly. Probably shouldn’t have brought that one...”

What followed was, without a doubt in Hector’s mind, the most uncomfortable game of Snakes and Ladders that had ever been played on the face of Eleg.

The second game was slightly less tense. For the third, they switched to Parcheesi; and for the fourth, they played a game called Waterwall, which Hector had never even heard of. The objective was to trap all of one’s opponents by building dams and rerouting water, which moved every turn and was represented by a cluster of squiggly-lined pieces.

Ibai won every single game. It didn’t seem to matter whether the game was skill- or luck-based. Horatio almost beat him once, but every other time was a complete trouncing.

Hector kept Garovel apprised of everything that was happening--or not happening, rather--and by the time Hector and Dimas’ shift ended, Hector was even more confused than when they had started.

The Rainlords had stopped on one of the larger bridges Hector had seen for a brief refueling break. The two gas stations on either side of the road looked a bit overwhelmed by the dozen vehicles that had suddenly arrived. Hector and Dimas walked together as they made their way back to the head of the entourage.

Now that they were away from the aberration, Hector was more interested in talking. “Well, that was... different than I expected.”

“Indeed,” said Dimas.

“What do you think?” asked Hector.

Dimas nodded lightly. “I think he seems genuine. You?”

“I don’t know...” Hector frowned at being the cynical one. “Have you encountered many aberrations before?”

“Two,” said Dimas. “I doubt that qualifies as many.”

“What were they like?”

“They both tried to kill me within about ten seconds of meeting me.”

“Ah...”

“What about you? You seem strangely interested in them.”

“Me? Oh... I’ve only met one, but... but, ah...”

Dimas waited patiently.

A part of Hector still wasn’t ready to talk about it. A part of him would never be ready. But a different part urged him to. It wanted him to tell this person. Dimas would understand, Hector thought. Just about any Rainlord would, probably.

So he tried. “The aberration I met... he, uh... he killed my dad. And... many of my friends.”

Dimas was briefly quiet. “I am very sorry to hear that,” was all he said.

Hector hadn’t really been expecting anything more from the man. In fact, that was probably why he decided to tell him. He didn’t want to be asked a dozen questions and end up reliving that nightmare.

He tried to think of something else to talk about, but nothing came to mind, and soon enough, they were back with the Elroys. Zeff was still asleep, and now, so was Asad. Asad’s daughter Jada had since joined them as well, along with his sister Imas, and with Hector and Dimas added in, the limousine was nearly at maximum occupancy.

The conversation never reached higher than a low murmur. Most everyone seemed either too tired or just not in the mood to talk much, but through the relative quiet, it was clear enough to Hector that Jada knew the Elroys pretty well. She kept the topics light and infrequent, Hector noticed, bringing up things like pets and food and a bit about what Moaban would be like.

“I have been there several times,” Jada was saying in that faint Valgan accent. “Raml’hahl is always very nice. Or--I think they call it Dunehall in Mohssian?” She looked to Atalim, her reaper. “Is that right?”

‘It is, yes.’

‘Dunehall?’ said Garovel. ‘Is it a fortress?’

‘It used to be,’ said Atalim. ‘It weathered many assaults during its day, but now it serves as home to the local steward, who takes care of it for whenever Hahl Najir visits.’ The reaper gave a laugh. ‘I imagine he will not be very pleased to see us with so many unannounced guests.’

‘Will that be a problem?’ asked Chergoa.

‘Oh, not at all. He would never disobey Asad. That would jeopardize his cushy job.’

Garovel threw a glance Hector’s way. ‘Speaking of fortresses,’ he said publicly, ‘Hector was given a really nice castle by the Queen of Atreya.’

Hector felt compelled to interject. “Nice might be the wrong word for it, Garovel...”

‘Okay. We have a really interesting castle. You guys should come visit. And perhaps stay awhile.’

‘Uh,’ said Chergoa, ‘we’re kinda busy with things here in Sair, in case you haven’t noticed.’

‘Busy? Are you planning on getting kidnapped a second time?’

‘Hilarious. We’re not going anywhere without Emiliana’s family.’

‘Well, I didn’t mean right this second. And they’re all invited, too, of course. Warrenhold has plenty of room.’

‘I wasn’t questioning its spaciousness. Most castles are pretty big.’

‘Ours is a little TOO big, actually. Enough so that we’re not really sure what to do with it all. It’s possibly the largest castle I’ve ever seen, now that I’m thinking about it.’

Chergoa cocked a skeletal eyebrow. ‘Ever?’

‘Maybe. I’m not sure. You definitely have to see it for yourself, someday. It would be a great place to lay low, if needed, and we would certainly welcome you, despite all of your horrendous character flaws.’

‘Thank you,’ Chergoa said flatly.

‘Did you say Warrenhold?’ asked Shenado. She’d been mostly quiet up to now, which seemed to make everyone more interested in hearing what she had to say.

‘I did,’ said Garovel. ‘You know of it?’

‘Not from personal experience, but I’ve heard Axiolis talk about how much he hates that place,’ said Shenado.

Garovel let out a laugh. ‘Really? Why? It wouldn’t have anything to do with the Redwater Uprising, would it?’

‘Ah, so you know about that.’

‘A friend of ours was able to tell us some of Warrenhold’s history,’ said Garovel. ‘It’s our understanding that the castle caused trouble for some folks who were looking to kill a few kings, yes?’

‘Yes,’ said Shenado. ‘Those kings needed to die in order for several of the Rainlords’ allies to seize power and provide much needed aid during the Uprising. Many of the Rainlords themselves were dispatched to help take the castle, but instead of the swift victory that they were expecting, they encountered a struggle that lasted decades.’

‘Ah, well, perhaps Axiolis will be pleased to know that Hector bears no relation to any of Warrenhold’s previous occupants,’ said Garovel.

Shenado tilted her skull to the side. ‘He said if it weren’t for Warrenhold, the Rainlords would have had all the support they needed in a dozen other key battles across the continent and wouldn’t have suffered such heavy losses.’

‘Mm. Then... hopefully, he’ll be pleased to know that it is now occupied by a friendly face.’

‘He also said that it was cursed.’

‘Oh, well, that’s not--’

‘He said, even after it was taken, the castle drove people mad and caused all manner of political turmoil.’

‘Axiolis is mistaken. I would be happy to--’

‘You tryin’ to invite us to some cursed pile of dog shit?’ said Chergoa. ‘The hell is wrong with you?’

‘It’s not cursed! It’s just misunderstood!’

‘Uh-huh, sure it is. I bet it’s just teeming with ghosts ‘n shit.’

‘Ghosts aren’t real,’ said Garovel.

‘You don’t know that.’

‘Actually, I do. And so do you.’

‘If ghosts aren’t real, then what do you call us?’

‘Reapers aren’t ghosts!’

‘Aren’t we, though? I mean, we’re people who’ve died, right?’

‘It’s not the same!’

‘It kinda is.’

Garovel sighed. ‘Okay, so by that logic, you are therefore worried that Warrenhold is teeming with reapers.’

‘Well, I was more worried about the dog shit part.’

‘There’s no dog shit!’

‘So you say...’

‘Ugh. Whatever. You’ll see it for yourself when you visit.’

‘I don’t wanna visit a place filled with that much dog shit.’

‘Chergoa, I will end you.’

She just laughed.

Hector would have kept listening, but Ramira poked him in the face with her iron spider. She’d insisted that he sit next to her, and he couldn’t very well refuse. And besides, sitting next to a little girl was way less intimidating than sitting next to anyone else in this car. Except maybe Dimas, who was sitting on Hector’s other side.

“What’s the matter?” Hector asked.

“You never told me your name, you big lump.”

She was right, he realized. The reapers had handled all the introductions, which she obviously hadn’t been able to hear.

“Ah... sorry. My name is Hector Goffe. I’m from a country called Atreya.”

“Where is that?” Ramira asked.

“It’s, uh... to the southwest of here.”

“Why did you come to Sair, then? To help us?”

“Er... s-sorta...”

“And why are you helping us, huh?”

“Oh, um, because my reaper is the brother of Emiliana’s reaper.”

Ramira squinted at him. “So you’re the servant... of the brother... of the reaper of my sister?”

“Y-yes... I think.”

“That’s really hard to remember.”

“Y-yeah...”

Emiliana decided to pitch in. “Perhaps it would be easier to think of Lord Hector as a very distant cousin.”

“Ah--” He raised a hand slightly. “Lord--um--you don’t have to--I mean, I’m not really a... er...”

“Oh, I am sorry,” she said. “Was I mistaken? I thought you were an Atreyan Lord.”

“Well... I am, technically.”

Emiliana tilted her masked head at him. “Then what is the problem?”

“Ah, uh, sorry.” He could feel himself losing what little composure he had. He needed to concentrate and find his footing again. “I’m just, er--I’m just not a-accustomed to it, I guess. Because I wasn’t born into it, I mean. So, um, please, um. Please j-just call me Hector. Please.” There were way too many pleases in there, he realized.

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Emiliana just stared at him a moment. “Very well...”

Ramira eyed him another time. “Cousin Hector, huh? Mmkay.”

And he was abruptly reminded of having that same thought when he first saw their pictures. Cousins. The memory made him blush, and he had to hide it by rubbing his face, as if out of exhaustion. Thankfully, he actually was exhausted, so that wasn’t too much of a stretch.

He could hardly believe they’d said that. And agreed about it. Cousins. Family. When the thought had been his own, he’d chalked it up to wishful thinking and dismissed it, but now... now, it actually had a sense of legitimacy. Of reality.

But maybe he was overreacting. In fact, he definitely was, he decided. These were Rainlords. They probably had more distant relatives than they could keep track of. One more cousin wouldn’t be a big deal to them, surely, so he shouldn’t let it be a big deal to him, either.

But it was. In spite of himself, it was. And he had no idea what to do about it, because it embarrassed the living shit out of him.

Ramira yawned and then prodded him with another question. “So how did you become a lord in your country if you weren’t born into it?”

“Ah, uh... it’s a recent thing. And kind of a long story.”

Her big gray eyes seemed to be telling him that she was ready for a long story.

He hesitated, of course, but he gave it a go, beginning with how he met the Queen and giving the highlights from there. And before long, he could see the little girl slowly drifting off to sleep. He didn’t really blame her, though. He wasn’t so great at this storytelling thing, and in spite of all her energy, Ramira had looked pretty tired even since before leaving Luzo. And it actually made the story easier to tell, he found. There was less pressure to get it right when it felt like she was hardly even listening.

At length, Ramira was out cold. And the mask made it hard to tell, but judging from Emiliana’s breathing and the fact that she hadn’t moved her head at all in the last few minutes, she seemed to be out, too. Marcos, as well, had fallen asleep on Dimas’ shoulder.

‘We might as well get some rest, too,’ said Garovel. He attached himself to Hector’s shoulder, and Hector fell quickly into unconsciousness.

The warm darkness washed over him. Familiar and welcome and gone too soon.

He awoke to the realization that the limousine was no longer moving. Garovel was awake, too, but the Elroy children were still asleep.

And Ramira was leaning against his shoulder.

He tensed up, having to resist the impulse to jump out of his seat. If not for a very potent concern that he would accidentally hurt the poor girl, Hector was pretty sure that he would have ended up ripping one of the doors off the vehicle while trying to escape.

Garovel floated in front of him. ‘You okay there, buddy?’

Hector just glared at the reaper with a clenched jaw.

‘Just relax,’ Garovel said privately, unable to hide his laughter completely. ‘She’s not going to hurt you.’

‘Garovel...’

‘Think of this as practice. Y’know, for when you have to touch someone who is actually conscious.’

‘You did this on purpose...’

‘Hey, I didn’t make her fall asleep on you. She did that on her own.’

‘You woke me up.’

‘Oh, did I? My hand must have slipped.’

‘Garovel!’

‘I do have hands, don’t I?’

Hector sighed through his nose. ‘Why do you have to torture me like this?’

‘Shits and giggles, primarily.’

‘Garovel...’

‘Oh, come on. This is adorable. Just try thinking about something else. Like why we’ve stopped or where Dimas went.’

Hector hesitated. He hadn’t even noticed that the man was gone. He couldn’t hear the rain anymore, either.

‘You’ve all been out for a while,’ Garovel went on. ‘We’ve already reached the Waress Mountains.’

‘...I’ve heard of those, I think.’

‘I should hope so. They divide the whole friggin’ continent.’

‘R-right...’

‘Also, we flew over them when we left Kuros.’

‘Oh.’

‘We’re gonna have to get you an atlas or something when we get back to Warrenhold. Oh, or you could craft a big iron globe! That could be a neat project. Make it big enough for people to walk into and look at from the inside. I saw a globe like that once. It got destroyed in a fire, though. Yeah, I should definitely have you recreate it. Could be good for tourism, too. Though, if it’s for tourism, then it might be best to put it above ground somewhere. Hmm. It’d look good underground, too, I’m sure. Maybe we could just have--’

‘Uh, Garovel?’

‘What?’

‘Where DID Dimas go?’

‘Oh, he’s scouting ahead to make sure the Tunnels are safe.’

‘Tunnels?’

‘Yup. That’s the other reason why I woke you up. You haven’t seen them before, have you? The Waress Tunnels?’

Hector tilted his head. ‘Uh...’

‘C’mon, then. Get out of the car.’

‘But I’ll wake up Ramira if I move...’

‘Eh, I think you can avoid waking her. C’mon.’

Slowly, Hector pulled himself away from the little girl. He tried not to jostle her too much.

She woke up, anyway.

Hector threw Garovel a look.

The reaper shrugged. ‘Well, maybe she’ll want to see them, too.’

Hector tried to apologize to Ramira, but she didn’t seem too concerned about it, and then Marcos and Emiliana began to stir as well. In the end, they just exited the vehicle together.

And finally, Hector could see what all the fuss was about.

A rocky cliff face towered before the entourage of limousines. It shot up at such a steep angle that, if not for its eroded ridges, Hector would have thought it was manmade. And yet, even with how tall it was and how much of his vision it consumed, the mountain peaks behind it were still more gigantic.

The Tunnels themselves were rather difficult to miss. There were three of them, right in a row, and they were so massive that Hector wasn’t sure they qualified as tunnels anymore, particularly because he could see buildings inside them. There were restaurants, gas stations, a few office buildings, and even what looked like residential housing. Sure, they were a bit crammed together--some being partially embedded into the walls or serving as a foundation to an immense support column--but Hector could still hardly believe his eyes.

Most of all, though, Hector admired the vast inlaid stonework. Perhaps it was because he’d recently been trying his own hand at construction back at Warrenhold. The sheer volume of individual bricks that lined the walls here astounded him.

The Elroys observed alongside him, though did not seem particularly surprised. No doubt, they had already known of this place or even been here before.

Garovel offered Hector some context in private. ‘The Lyzakks made these tunnels. You remember them, right?’

‘Your people,’ said Hector.

‘Yep. The Waress Mountains stood between them and the Armans. But instead of going over, they punched through.’

Hector scratched his head. ‘So I guess these were servant-made?’

‘Servants in conjunction with slave-labor.’

‘Oh. That’s... kind of horrible.’

‘Yeah. It was a different time. A time full of shitheaded motherfuckers.’

‘Mm...’

‘Not that we have a shortage of those nowadays.’

‘A tunnel seems like a dangerous way for us to go,’ said Hector. ‘It’s, um... like, a pretty obvious funnel point, isn’t it? I mean, won’t the Vanguard be guarding it?’

Garovel shook his head. ‘The Waress Tunnels are more than just the three you see here. Just in Sair alone, they number in the hundreds. The Vanguard would have a hell of a time trying to block them all. But yes, in the off chance that the Vanguard picked one of these three, Dimas has taken a scouting party ahead.’

‘Ah...’

From their vantage point atop a southern bluff, Hector could see all the different roads convening in front of the Tunnels. It seemed like some kind of major intersection, what with all the directional signs about, but there wasn’t very much traffic to speak of. Only a handful of cars dotted the road. Hector wondered if it was always like this or if the Rainlords had evacuated the place while he’d slept.

‘You should give Lynn a call,’ said Garovel, still privately.

Hector pressed his lips together flatly.

‘Don’t you want to know how things went in Kuros? And how she’s doing? And what she’s wearing?’

Hector just sighed and rubbed his brow with one hand.

‘Seriously, though, you should call her. She might be able to give us an idea of what’s going on with the Sandlords.’

‘She might’ve already returned to Atreya,’ said Hector.

‘Yup.’

Hector paused. ‘Uh... how are WE gonna get back to Atreya, by the way?’

Garovel shrugged. ‘Asad seems pretty rich. Maybe he has a jet we can borrow.’

‘Who the fuck would let anyone “borrow” a jet?’

‘Well, maybe a motorcycle, then.’

‘Agh...’

‘Come to think of it, you should probably call Amelia, too. Seems like we might not return to Warrenhold for a little while.’

That brought up a question that had been lingering in the back of Hector’s mind. ‘Ah... how long are we going to stay with these people, do you think?’

‘Not sure.’

‘It’s just... after we get to this Moaban place, uh--I mean, then what? We can’t just stay with the Rainlords indefinitely...’

Garovel made no response.

‘Er--I’m not saying I wanna abandon them or anything,’ Hector added. ‘It’s just, uh... ah--’

‘I know,’ said Garovel.

‘Do you have a plan?’ Hector asked, fishing into his pocket for his phone.

‘Well, I’d like Chergoa to return with us,’ the reaper said. He threw a look toward his sister, who was busy hovering around Emiliana. ‘But that seems unlikely, at the moment. I’m hoping I can find a way to convince her.’

‘...What if you can’t?’

Garovel gave an echoing sigh. ‘Then I guess we’ll just have to go our separate ways again. But at least she’ll know where to find me, if she needs to. I suppose that would be enough.’

Hector frowned. He hated feeling so helpless, but he didn’t see much point in pressing the issue. He found Lynn’s number and called her.

She answered after a few rings. <“Hector?”>

Predictably, he had trouble responding.

<“...Are you doing that thing you always do, or did the call actually drop?”>

“N-no, I’m here.”

<“Okay, good. What’s up?”>

Again, no words came out.

<“...Good goddess, Hector. Come on.”>

“Ah--sorry. I was just... uh, wondering, um... ah... I, er...”

<“...You were just wondering what?! Don’t say something like that and then leave out the important part!”>

Hector just froze up again. He heard Lynn sigh.

<“Alright, well... can you at least tell me if you will be returning to Kuros anytime soon?”>

“Oh. Um. Er... are you still in Kuros?”

<“Yeah. After you left, Prince Meriwether decided to stay a while longer and spend some extra time with his children. I think he was worried about leaving you without a ride back to Atreya.”>

“Ah... o-okay. But I don’t, uh... I don’t think I’ll be back in Kuros very soon. You probably shouldn’t wait for me. I’ll try to bum a ride off the Rainlords or something.”

<“Okay. How are things going with them, anyway? I’ve been following the news, but it hasn’t been able to tell me much, other than the fact there’ve been a lot of evacuations.”>

“Ah, things have...” He cleared his throat and lowered his voice. “Er, things’ve gone fairly well, actually. I was kinda surprised, uh. I thought there’d be a lot of casualties, but I haven’t seen any whatsoever.”

<“Really?”>

“Yeah. The Rainlords are really nice, too. Very, um--very careful and respectful.” He paused. “Well, most of them, anyway...”

<“Huh. That’s good to hear.”>

Hector felt an awkward silence creeping in and snapped to the realization that it was his turn to pose a question. “W-what, um, what about you? How did the, uh... the thing go?”

Lynn breathed half a laugh. <“The thing?”>

“The, ah... agh, the negotiation thing? Between the Prince and Lord Saqqaf?”

<“Oh, I’m not too sure. Lord Saqqaf agreed to provide us with some money, but I think Prince Meriwether had been hoping for a lot more.”>

Hector scratched his cheek with his free hand. He felt like there was a more important question he should ask, but all he could think of was, “What was Lord Saqqaf like? I mean--er, did you meet him?”

<“Yeah, I met him. He asked me where I got my gauntlet.”>

“Oh. What’d you tell him?”

<“That the Vanguard gave it to me.”>

“Eesh... you sure that was wise?”

<“Not really, no. What would you have said?”>

“Uh... hmm.”

<“Exactly.”>

“Maybe... an unnamed friend gave it to you.”

<“Then he might’ve asked who.”>

“Well, you could’ve said that you were protecting their identity or something.”

<“Oh yeah, because that doesn’t sound suspicious.”>

“Hmm...”

Garovel decided to intervene. ‘This is a lovely chat ‘n all, but you should ask about the Sandlords.’

Hector straightened. “Ah... Garovel wants to know about the Sandlords.”

<“What about them?”>

“What about them, Garovel?”

The reaper’s bony brow twisted. ‘Ask what they’re up to. We heard they were having trouble with Abolish before, so have there been any notable developments with that? Or any other problems, maybe?’

It took him a bit longer, but Hector relayed the reaper’s questions. More or less.

<“As far as I can tell, the Sandlords don’t like to discuss that type of thing openly,”> said Lynn. <“But the news has been a little odd.”>

“Odd, how?”

<“Ah---um, I should preface this by saying that I had to ask someone to translate for me. The news is in Valgan, you know, so... just, don’t get mad at me if I got something wrong here, alright?”>

Hector blinked as he listened, feeling a sudden worry that his own awful speech patterns might be having some kind of negative effect on her. And without even thinking, he said, “I doubt I could ever get mad at you.”

There came a very long pause.

His eyes widened as he realized what had just come out of his mouth. He wanted to take it back, but he was too afraid to say anything else. When he looked at Garovel, the reaper’s hollow eye sockets had grown larger as well.

<“...Well, uh.”> It was her turn to clear her throat. <“I just thought the news seemed odd because there are a lot of mysterious reports going around. Freak industrial accidents. Disappearing pets. Brushfires. Even a rise in burglaries and murders.”>

Hector’s brow lowered. “Where have these things been happening?”

<“Zebul, Guldamere, Shara, Egas--all over eastern Sair.”>

“Hmm... Do they think it’s Abolish?”

<“I assume so, but who knows? This place has been so busy. It seems like the Sandlords have had to dispatch people to investigate a new problem every few hours.”>

“Huh. That’s... unsettling.”

<“Yeah.”>

“Maybe you should head back to Atreya soon...”

<“Ha. That’s not up to me, Hector. Why? Are you worried about us?”>

“Uh... well, yeah. These Rainlords and Sandlords... they’re no joke, Lynn. I’ve seen them fight with my own eyes, and they scare the hell out of me--way more than anyone we fought back home. So... I mean, anyone who thinks they can go up against these guys is either really stupid or really dangerous.”

<“I see. Well, I’m sure Prince Meriwether knows that, too, but I’ll tell him what you said.”>

Again, Hector wasn’t sure what to say, so he just said, “O-okay. Uh. Good.”

<“You’re being careful, too, aren’t you?”> said Lynn. <“Maybe I’m not the best person to give a lecture on not taking risks, but... um...”>

Hector felt like he was supposed to say something here, but jack shit came to mind, and he looked to Garovel another time.

‘Tell her you’re being careful, you idiot.’

‘But I’m not really--’

‘SHUT UP AND LIE TO HER. DO IT NOW.’

“Uh--y-yeah,” Hector blurted, “I’m being cautious. I mean, I have to protect Garovel ‘n all, so...”

<“...Right.”>

He couldn’t tell if that meant she’d bought it or not. After a few more moments of unbearable silence, however, he decided to try and end this before he said some other stupid thing. “Well, uh... I should probably go now...”

<“Ah--alright. Talk to you later, then.”>

“Bye. Uh. Good to--er. Bye.” His expression twisted as he hung up. He took a deep breath and shook his head.

‘Hector.’ Garovel’s voice was perfectly flat. ‘What in the holiest of fucks was all that about?’

‘I don’t know... I always fuck things up. Agh...’

‘Hmm. You don’t even realize it, do you?’

He sighed. ‘Realize what?’

‘How WELL you just did. I mean. For you. That was pretty incredible.’

‘What? Garovel, I’m really not in the mood to be made fun of right now...’

Garovel just stared at him.

And Hector didn’t understand the reaper’s abrupt silence, but he was grateful for it, nonetheless. He sifted through his phone for Madame Carthrace’s number, and his feet wandered closer to the edge of the small ridge, allowing a better view of the road directly below. It wasn’t a long drop, and he noticed a few people with familiar faces standing at the base. One of those faces belonged to Ibai Blackburn.

As luck would have it, the aberration happened to be looking up at that same moment and so noticed Hector immediately. A swirl of brown shadow later, Ibai was standing right there next to him.

Hector decided to pocket his phone and call Amelia later.

Ibai was smiling, of course. “Hello again,” he said as his four bodyguards bounded up from behind him. They landed with one quick thud after another, but he paid them no mind. “Ah, is this your reaper? We were never properly introduced. I’m Ibai.”

‘Charmed,’ said Garovel.

Horatio was still among the bodyguards, Hector noticed. “Ibai, you have to stay with us,” the man said with bags under his eyes. “You cannot just teleport away whenever you like.”

“Eh, I’m pretty sure I can.”

“No,” Horatio growled. “What if you accidentally teleported inside of a person?”

“There’s no risk of that,” said Ibai. “I can see everyone’s soul when I do it. Here, let me show you.”

“Wait--”

Ibai grabbed his cousin’s arm, and they blinked away together. Hector couldn’t tell where they’d gone, but it didn’t matter, because they returned to the same spot a moment later. Horatio looked like he was about to puke.

“Oh, whoops,” said Ibai. “Sorry. I didn’t even think about your motion sickness. Did that actually trigger it? You weren’t really moving, you know.”

Horatio just held up a hand and stared at the ground. Everyone waited for him to speak, but he said nothing further.

Ibai shrugged and turned back to Hector. “Well, anyway! Would you believe you’re the first black person I’ve ever met?”

Hector did not respond.

“I’ve seen some of you on television and such, but I’ve never had the pleasure to speak with one personally. Isn’t that something?”

Hector had to refrain from telling him that he still did not have the pleasure of speaking with one.

“I know there’s a pretty profound age difference here,” Ibai went on, “but would you like to be my first black friend? I’ve always wanted one.”

Hector could only squint at the man. With the way Ibai spoke, it was somehow easy for Hector to forget that this person was quite clearly a middle-aged man.

“Or wait. Was that a racist thing to ask? If so, then I apologize. I’ve never had very many friends, you see. Well, I’ve had my family, of course. They’ve provided such fantastic companionship; I wouldn’t want to give the impression that they haven’t. I love them very much.” He slapped Horatio’s shoulder.

Horatio turned and barfed over the edge of the cliff.

“There you go, cousin,” said Ibai. “Feel better?”

Horatio just returned a deathly stare as he wiped his mouth.

“But yes,” Ibai continued to Hector, “they are my family. It’s a different sort of relationship. I feel there is something uniquely special about becoming friends with someone who is in no way obligated to you already. It’s a bit purer, in an odd way. Or perhaps I am just romanticizing it. What do you think?”

Strangely, Hector knew exactly what Ibai was talking about. In his lonelier days, he’d often pondered the nature of companionship himself, and indeed, he’d reached a similar conclusion. There was something different about the approval of others, of strangers. It vindicated one’s existence, perhaps. That was what he’d come to believe, anyway.

But he certainly hadn’t expected to be reminded of that now of all times.

Hector still didn’t know how to respond, though. No one had ever been so direct about asking for his friendship before, but he wasn’t sure how he felt about becoming someone’s token black friend, let alone an aberration’s token black friend. His gut told him there wasn’t much harm in it, but even still...

Garovel spoke up in his stead. ‘We would love to be your friends.’

Hector gave the reaper a look.

Ibai’s eyes lit up. “Really?!”

‘Sure, why not?’ said Garovel. ‘You seem like a nice enough fellow--and not a bloodthirsty psychopath. People who aren’t bloodthirsty psychopaths are my favorite, you know.’

“Is that so?! Well, that’s just wonderful!”

‘Oh, and I’m sorry that my buddy here is so quiet,’ said Garovel. ‘It’s nothing against you. He’s like this with most people. He’s super shy, you see.’

“Oh! Shy! That explains it! Aha!” He gave Hector an even bigger smile, somehow. “I was afraid that you hated me! Wow! That is such a relief, then. Whew.”

Hector could only wonder where Garovel was going with this.

‘We heard all about you from Chergoa. She’s my sister, as it happens.’

“Wow, that’s amazing! I’d love to talk to her and Emiliana again! They were so nice!”

‘I’m sure they’d like that,’ said Garovel. ‘By the way, how old are you?’

“Oh, I’m thirty-five. Why?”

‘Ah, no reason. I’m curious to know how long aberrations have been around. I wasn’t familiar with your kind until very recently. It’s just that the last aberration we met was only about twenty years old or so.’

“Ooh, what was he like?”

‘Not nearly as pleasant as you, to be sure. He hurt a lot of innocent people.’

“Aww... I’m sorry to hear that. I suppose I should have guessed. What happened to him?”

‘My buddy here killed him.’

Ibai looked to Hector again. “Did you, now? Hmm. Was that difficult?”

Now there was a question that Hector wanted to answer. “Not so much so that I wouldn’t do it again.”

Ibai’s smile waned for a second, but then he broke into a laugh. “You’re kinda scary! I bet you’d get along with Uncle Mel!”

Hector wasn’t surprised by that reaction in the slightest, but this “Uncle Mel” caught his attention.

Garovel inquired for the both of them. ‘Uncle Mel? He wouldn’t happen to be Darktide, would he?’

Ibai nodded. “Mmhmm. Technically, he’s not my uncle. He’s just a super old cousin, but he’s always been like Papa’s big brother.”

‘How is he doing, by the way?’ Garovel asked. ‘Still sleeping, I take it?’

“Yes,” said Horatio, who seemed to have regained his composure. “And what of your Seadevil?”

‘Oh, he’s not OUR Seadevil,’ said Garovel. ‘We’re not Rainlords, in case you hadn’t already guessed.’

“Ah.” Horatio tilted his head. “I thought your servant had perhaps married into one of the families.”

‘No, no. I’m Garovel, and this is Hector Goffe, the Lord of Warrenhold in Atreya. We only came to see my sister. Got a little more from this visit than we bargained for, you might say.’

“Oh, so you’re not even from Sair!” said Ibai. “Is this your first time seeing the Tunnels, then?” He didn’t wait for an answer this time. “Mine, too! Pictures really don’t do them justice! Did you know that they’ve been used since ancient times in order to transport vital resources? Even when the Rainlords and Sandlords were at war! They traded valuable materials even while they were trying to stab each other in the back!”

‘Really?’ said Garovel, and Hector couldn’t tell if the reaper was genuinely interested or just playing along. ‘That seems kind of counterintuitive, doesn’t it?’

“I know, right?!” said Ibai. “They used to poison each other’s stuff! But the thing was, neither side trusted the other, and they would always expect it to be some kind of trap. So they’d test their imports really well, and decontaminate it and use it, if they could. If not, they’d try to find some sneaky way of sending it back. It was a really crazy time! Our ancestors were lunatics! I wish I could’ve met some of them!”

‘Some of your family’s reapers must have lived through those times, no?’

“Well, sure, but it’s not the same,” said Ibai. “And besides, Rholtam and Orric never share any of their stories, even though I’m sure they must have tons of juicy ones. What about you, Garovel? You must have some neat stories.”

‘Oh, of course,’ said Garovel. ‘But unfortunately, I sense Lord Dimas returning from his scouting mission. Story time will have to wait.’

“Aww...”