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Wyatt Graves

Rubbing my forehead in pain from the headache of having Vigor siphoned from me, I watch Blake wrap her arms around the gunslinger as he sits up. He returns her hug as he glances around, confused. The first person's gaze he meets is Primrose.

'What happened? Is Irham dead?"

Primrose nods at him, offering a hand to help him up. Johnny moves to take it, but after looking at the crying Blake, he stops.

"Yeah. You, Lennon, Kwakiteh, and Clarence killed him, with the Silent Scorpion landing the last blow and taking his body. No one stopped him because, well, you are all fucked. You got hit with something by the Phantoms before he died, Lennon is sleeping from exhaustion, and Kwakiteh was quite out of it."

I skim my sight over at the sleeping man and bored woman while Primrose mentions them. Kwakiteh returns my gaze, moving her blindfolded face toward me. It feels so weird to have her look at me like that. Same with Deux.

Thankfully, I already transferred ownership of Deux to Earl. He already started experimenting on it, and now the Vessel has an Ail inside its right eye. He placed Sint Holo's Venomous Gaze as it seemed the least useful for a person to have. Creating poisonous liquid with your eyes seems useful and all until you touch it by accident.

While Primrose and Johnny talk, I step over to Kwakiteh. Before I do so, however, I check on Virgil. He's not Flickering. He's still just lying there. It's not right. Maybe I'll have Blake help him, too? Will that even work? I'm not sure. Perhaps Abraham has to enter his mind.

I don't know. But I will save him. And Kwakiteh might help me.

The second I get near her, I feel an additional gaze touch me. There is no need to look around. It comes from her.

"Kwakiteh. I see that you are Artificed as well. Are you a Hollow?"

I choose to be blunt. I'd rather not fuck this up by wasting her time or something. She seemed quite annoyed every time Lennon did anything that took too long or squandered effort.

She stares at me through her blindfold, not moving her gaze for several seconds of strained silence before speaking. Her voice is rough and annoyed, as if she hates who I am, as if she hates that I even exist.

"Yes. But that is not what we are called. That is a name forced upon us. We are Comanche. The only people to survive within the Wilds. Until your people ruined it all and slaughtered us."

I throw up my hands, trying not to show that I'm not a threat. I didn't do anything to her people.

"What do you mean? I never did anything to the Hollows. I've only ever been mistaken for one. Here, let me try this again. I'm Wyatt. Wyatt Graves. I wish to know more about your people."

I can't gauge her expression through her eyes, but her mouth twitches, showing a small instance of emotion. I latch onto that as she stays quiet.

"I need help. I've been Artificed for over six months, and my artifact and I are pretty friendly to each other. It was bumpy for the first four months, but we've been closer recently. And just underground, I let it advance to an Arca, entering hibernation until it's done. I need---"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You need help learning how to control it. I've heard this all before. Go die."

Kwakiteh buts into my sentence rudely, standing and strutting past me toward Lennon. She even bops him on the head, waking him up and asking him to leave. I sputter, attempting something different as she didn't seem to hear me.

"I don't need help to control it! I want to know how to become its friend! It needs help! It's asking for it! Please! It has a soul, too!"

She pauses, standing still for a moment before turning around. Then, the woman turns back as Lennon stands, the swordsman looking around for his blade. After a moment of looking, he finds an iron pole from one of the fallen bookshelves and shrugs, sliding that on his belt. While he does, Kwakiteh focuses on me, her gazes piercing through that black blindfold.

"You think artifacts have souls?"

"Yeah. The Angelic ones, at least. How else would something have a Power? But even the weaker ones have feelings. Memories. Pasts. The Bloody Palm has gradually been unloading it all onto me. Cassidy Monroe was his name. I think had he been alive; we would have been friends. Close friends, even."

Kwakiteh steps closer to me as if checking to see my lie. But she only grows nearer every step until she stands just a foot away, peering down at me from her tall height. I'm not short, but I'm not tall, either. She is, however, and towers above me by several inches.

"You lie. No one believes they live. They only think artifacts are unfeeling tools and monsters."

I examine up at her, refuting her claim with the Colt on my hip.

"No. That's not true. I have two of them. And Lily, she is as much of a person as we are. She's only a few years younger than me, too. It's like having a little sister stuck to your hip. Though... we can only talk in dreams or when many people die nearby."

The woman reaches for the Colt, and I offer it to her. I don't think she'll use it, and even if she did, Lily can't shoot me. Kwakiteh examines it closely, her lips soundlessly moving before me until she spins the Colt and hands it back.

After she does, he reaches up and pulls her blindfold down slightly, revealing a single opened eye. It sparkles with purple and yellow light, half sickly, half hallucinogenic in a spinning shape that reminds me of a flower. It reminds me of Nightshade, the poisonous flower. But the pupil is missing, entirely white within that flower. She is blind.

Stolen novel; please report.

"I believe you. The lass in there is jovial about you, if not reverent. I will help you, only to Twilight, however. Dawn is not something I can aid you with. That is dependent on the person and artifact. Even my father struggled to reach that stage. I'm not quite there yet myself. And you can call me Kate if you would like. Kwakiteh is a mouthful for you Easterners."

As she speaks with her eye shown, I realize how young she is. At most, a few years older than me. I thought she was closer to Lennon in age, but it appears I'm wrong. Kwakiteh then lifts up her blindfold, hiding her eyes once more. I nod and thank her but ask my first question.

"Thank you! But what is Dawn, exactly? And Twilight, for that matter?"

Kate sighs, shifting and glancing over at the rest of the people preparing to leave. Then, she points toward the exit of the library.

"I'll get to that in a moment. I overheard you are all taking a train to Blackreach. Do you mind if Lennon and I tag along---"

"Hey, I never--!"

"Shut up, you idjt! I'm getting you a ride! Or would you rather fucking walk and get controlled by Eli Weiss via Roots corralling you! Huh? Thought not!"

Her outburst at Lennon's interruption ends with her waiting for my input. I shrug and agree. Lennon is dangerous, but Tomas and Johnny can handle him. Plus, we have Deux now. He also isn't inherently evil. It seems he wants fights to grow stronger. I can understand the feeling, even if it's a bit drastic.

"Sure. That works for me."

She nods in agreement before pulling me forward out of the library. I hold my hand up, moving to Earl first after pulling my hand away.

"One sec!"

I shift over to Earl, asking the man focused on Deux. He's checking out all of her body while she stands still. If Deux weren't unliving, it'd be creepy.

"Can you watch out for Virgil? I need to discuss artifacts with Kwakiteh. This might be the only chance I get. But... I'm worried for him. I'll only be comfortable leaving if you take care of him the whole time."

Earl rips his attention away from Deux, glancing at my ruined right arm first before answering.

"Yeah, don't worry. I'll do everything I can to keep him here. There is even an Ail that freezes time at a point in sight. I'll put it on Deux and have her help him if necessary. While I do, I'll think of some upgrades for your arm. The fact that Deux can withstand and use an Ail is a good sign for your prosthetic. Imagine having two arms, each with a Power. It'd be incredible. I can only hope my craftsmanship can keep up with the Bloody Palm."

I pat him on the back with thanks and walk back to Kate. I feel way better knowing that, worst case, Earl can still save him. When I get back to Kate, I let her know I'm good to go.

"Good. We'll walk and talk. Better if only you hear this."

I follow her, stepping after her as we quickly enter the empty streets of Pridestead. I still don't know where all the citizens went, but they aren't here anymore. Did Eli sacrifice a whole city for the death of the Nahullo's Viceroy? Or did the Nahullos simply force them to run for the hills? Hmm...

He might've.

Once we enter the streets of the city, Kate begins speaking. Her voice echoes against the empty streets, bouncing off each unopened door and closed window.

"Most people hate artifacts. They think them dangerous tools only to be used and tossed away if they ever stop working. But they don't know the truth. Each and every artifact can feel. They can think. Some can even speak. Mie, my eye, has been with me my whole life since I was a few days old. Anytime we find an artifact being mistreated, we either free it or take it with us if we can."

"Free it?"

I can't help but ask the question as she takes a mouthful of air for her lungs. She turns her head to me as we walk, the streets utterly empty before us.

"A friendlier way to word killing it. The emotions and feelings will simmer so long as they are not treated kindly, and some simply cannot be saved. In that case, we release them to the world for peace."

I nod, understanding. For a long time, all the Bloody Palm had was hate and a need for survival. And for most artifacts, I've seen, they've been similar. They are typically plagued with either horrible side effects or rampant negative emotions. So much so that few influential people actually use them besides some leaders of the Estates manipulating artifacts born of old Pillars from their families. Aniwye was the only individual I'd met who carried multiple at a time to fight with. Even including her, though... It seems to be too much of a risk to wield an artifact above your own power.

But the Warmaster of the Nahullo does. He must have figured out how to tame or calm the Pale Cavity. After all, it is the most legendary artifact in the world, birthed from one of the only figures ever to defeat Behemoth in battle, Ytrial, the Furious Gaze. It is said to possess his Power, his Virtue, his Dominion, and even his Dzil.

Thankfully, Ytrial lived centuries ago, so I won't ever have to deal with a living version of him. The only ones to know what he even looks like alive are Behemoth and Leviathan. Perhaps a few long-living demons also know, but that is where it ends.

So, I understand where Kate comes from. It is barbaric to let these things simmer in hate. They come from us, after all. They are... in a way, human, too.

"Makes sense. In some ways, they are more human than we are."

She nods, continuing as we walk toward the train.

"Yes. That is exactly what Mie and I believe. As for your questions, Twilight is the point where you and your artifact can switch who 'drives' the body. In this way, you can fulfill each other's wants. For instance, Mie loves to read and watch people fight. So, often, I'll give her free reign to read whatever she wants. We share a body, after all. You might as well actually share it."

The concept she introduces to me is odd but not new. The Bloody Palm has rescinded control to me before. I agree with her and prompt information about what it actually entails.

"That makes sense. So, I'll have to learn what the Bloody Palm wants. What does the stage do, though?"

Kate shakes her head as she scoffs, pointing to my left hand.

"You need to stop calling it that. Find a name for it. It will have a soul when it awakes, which means it deserves the respect of any other living creature. Name it. You don't have to do it right now but do it."

I nod, having a name come to mind immediately, but it sounds stupid, so I toss it aside. I'll have to think about this.

"Of course. I'll figure out a good name."

"Good. Now, for the effects, it will give you more time to train and rest, mainly because your artifact can heal. Your mind can sleep while it takes over for you. I'm sure you've noticed, but you recover much faster while it is in control. While in the front seat, artifacts expel Ether from our bodies far quicker than we do naturally. Secondly, while either of you possesses the body, you will gain rudimentary control over the other's Ether and skill, but only the things closest to each other."

Again, her words make so much sense. That's how the Bloody Palm managed to use Madness. It's built on Insight which comes from Chain Eyes, my oldest skill. That means we are nearing or have already reached Twilight, right?

"My artifact managed to use my first Sigil skill only a while ago. Does that mean we are at Twilight?"

I propose the question to her as she laughs softly. It's a kind of half-deprecative and half-apologetic laugh. It kind of hurts my feelings, but I ignore it. I'm here to learn from her. Not many of her sort are around. Less so at her power.

"No. Not at all. Until you can use its first Sigil skill, whatever that may be, you are not at Twilight. Artifacts have better instincts than us, so they can use our bodies and skills with far greater ease. Makes sense why Wendigos are so dangerous, huh?"

"Yeah... well, what about Dawn? What's that one about?"

I see her point and move on to my next question. I need to know only one other thing from her, as Marshall hinted that I can only become an Angel if I reach Dawn. I'm not too close to the 7th Sigil, but I'm not that far, either, especially with my two Absolutions.

Kate skips a rock with her closed-toe boot and answers me with a twinge of sadness.

"My father... before he died, was the only Comanche ever to reach Dawn besides our first Chieftain. He left me some notes, knowing somebody, likely Eli or Marshall, would kill him, that Ed gave to me when I matured. They detail each stage, even a theoretical final one, Unity."

She pauses momentarily, her face pivoting to look at the sky. It feels like she's giving her father a moment of silence. I join her until she starts up again.

"Dawn is required to be an Angel, and that is why my tribe was weak. For our Sigil's ranks, we were unbeatable. Kwethle, my father, could kill an entire skilled team of 6th Sigileds with little effort. He even managed to kill a Pillar, one known as the Horsman Of Pestilence, who fought alongside Ed, Annie, and Marshall. But, the others were far weaker than Kwethle. They couldn't fight as he did, uncaring of Sigils."

Again she stops, this time lifting her blindfold for me to see her majestic eye again. Mie. That is her name.

"The reason is that our artifacts connect with our bodies and impede the act of our soul merging with our Sigils. Only when the artifact can blend fully into your body can you reach the Angelic Realm. This allows the two of you to swap freely in battle and use all of each other's skills. Not Powers, though. My father was sure about that as Mora couldn't use his Absolution skill."

She continues as we turn a corner, the Stream Train coming into sight. The view of the steel covered in blood and bullet holes astounds me, but I calm myself by hearing the situation from Primrose. Despite how it looks, not that many died, at least toward the front of the train.

Of the few hundred on the train, only fifty died. Most being soldiers I've never even spoken to. But... not all were. One of Rich's teammates, Holt, was killed defending the train. My heart hangs low as we near the train. I'll have to find the quiet musician. I'm confident he's hurting. They all looked quite close.

"As for Unity, my father only assumes this exists as he couldn't use his artifact's Power and vice-versa for his Absolution skill. Personally, I figure this one would go far deeper than Dawn and allow that precisely. It's also probably required to reach Godhood. Not that it would ever matter. I doubt we're making it that high."

"Yeah..."

I reply to her shortly as I walk past bodies covered by sheets, the blood evident on the outsides of the cloth. Kate quiets as we come across several soldiers moving around. Gradually, we enter the area around the train and finally step into the train.

The smell of blood and medicine bites into my nose, and as I look out toward the opposite side of the train, I freeze.

Outside, along the trees of the woods beside Pridestead, lies hundreds of bodies. Some are giant, some are miniature, and one even is half the behemoth that the Urayuli was. Tomas or Primrose must have killed that one. Darklight creeps out of some bodies while others are burnt so badly that they don't have any of the sinister light.

Damn.

They all put in some serious work.