The atmosphere of MegaGlitch’s tavern was hushed and still. Azela was still taking in everything that had been said to her, trying to make sense of any of it.

She broke the silence to ask, "So... where are we?"

Shi-Yon said, "I appreciate your attempt to act like we weren’t speaking, but they know better."

"Did I get you in trouble?" Azela asked with concern.

He waved his hand in dismissal. "Nothing I can't get out of. He likes to think highly of himself, but Ayan isn’t immune to certain manipulations."

"Why didn't you want to talk to me earlier?" Azela pressed.

Shi-Yon sighed. "Let's not discuss that. Anyway, this is MegaGlitch's nameless tavern, in the haven of Jastria, not far from the northern coast. We’re atop Mount Kaila, and these mountains are known simply as the Forsaken Mountains. You are in my custody for the time being, apparently, so I'll answer some of the questions you must have. Are you hungry?"

"Very,” she said, “But first I have a question that needs to be answered. Who am I?"

Shi-Yon nodded. "You are the glitchen apostle Seven-Zero. That's the number Ayan decided to give you.”

“And I’m one of these glitches?”

“You inhabit a glitchen body," he said as he walked to the back of the bar and opened a black refrigerator. Looking inside he offered, "I can cook something if you want. Take a look."

Azela approached the refrigerator and gazed at the unfamiliar food before turning to Shi-Yon with a worried expression. "I don't remember what any of this is. Won't MegaGlitch get mad if we just take it?"

Shi-Yon reached in and pulled out a multicolored block. "This, then. We've been given the title of Ayan's apostles. That means we're trusted more than others. Besides, MegaGlitch'll know what we ate and put it on our tab. That thing can spy into our minds."

Azela trailed behind him as he carried the food block to a counter, ensuring she kept a respectful distance as he deftly chopped it into smaller portions and arranged them on a sleek, gray slab. "Apostles, huh? Is that like being a knight?" she wondered.

"If you want to call it that. It’s a term stolen from another world and twisted into whatever Ayan wants it to mean." The machine he placed it over produced a small green fire.

"Um..." Silence took over again for a few long seconds before she asked, "Could I... see your face?"

Shi-Yon lowered his head. "No."

"Are you the same man I encountered back on the beach?"

"I'm the only one in this world granted access to this armor."

Azela sat in a corner, hugging her knees. "So, you’ve seen me unclothed, couldn't I just catch a glimpse of your face?"

The ensuing silence was awkward, broken only by the clatter of the cooking slab being lifted, its contents cascading onto a polished silver plate. Sauce was drizzled over what Azela would never guess was an edible meal.

Finally, Shi-Yon spoke, his voice heavy with meaning. "Few have ever laid eyes on my face. Ayan and MegaGlitch are the exceptions. There is purpose in my anonymity."

Sensing Shi-Yon's discomfort, Azela tactfully changed the subject. "Are Ayan and MegaGlitch glitches like us?"

Shi-Yon shrugged, which displayed more fluidity of motion than one would expect from someone encased in full armor. "I don't exactly know what MegaGlitch is, but I know it isn't sapien, glitchen, or elven. As for Ayan, he's referred to as a skorrithian.”

“I have a few choice words I’d refer to him as,” Azela said. “Do you all obey him because you’re as scared of him as I am?”

“I don’t fear him,” Shi-Yon replied cooly. “The people here, however, serve him because they see him as an incarnation of their creator, who was born as a human in the time before they were called sapiens, then resurrected as a skorrithian after his death. After many years of his new life, this skorrithian was forced to merge with a being called Exitherra in order to defeat Nauspheare, which led to his second demise. But now he lives on through Ayan. Thus his decisions are law in Jastria. Other mountain tribes don't seem to have much respect for him, calling him a false god and cursing his alliances with dragons like Reizu and Sierra, but he’s much older than all of them and doesn’t care."

Azela nodded, the names ringing a distant bell in her memory, but she couldn't place them.

Now that the food was done, Shi-Yon walked from the kitchen and placed it on a table. Azela anxiously jumped up onto that table, ignoring the chairs at its side, and sniffed the food. "Aren’t you going to eat, too?" she asked him, thinking of how he would have to remove his helmet to do so.

"I'll have something later," he replied, yet seemed distracted by how Azela was perched on her feet like a raven. Azela recognized the odd behavior that had come so naturally, and stepped off of the table to sit on a chair, which was something her body felt very unaccustomed to.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

As Azela devoured the meal, the two remained silent. Azela was filled with a sense of unease, as nothing around her seemed familiar. Despite being able to read, recall names, and understand the conversations of those around her, she couldn't piece together any memories of her past. The frustration of not knowing who she was or where she came from weighed heavily on her mind.

Azela was grateful for the quiet, as it gave her time to collect her thoughts and try to make sense of her situation.

At the moment there was nothing she could do but play along with the role that was given to her. The three she met seemed friendly enough, though it was obvious to her that they were hiding something. She knew that she should be far more panicked and distressed about her situation, but was also thankful that she wasn’t. Perhaps it was the comforting presence she felt being near to Shi-Yon.

When Azela had finished, Shi-Yon said, "I'll fill you in on everything else you can’t remember tomorrow. For tonight, I could set you up with a room here in the tavern."

Azela was about to ask a question, but she hesitated, her face flushing with embarrassment at the thought of how it might sound. Taking a deep breath, she mustered up the courage to speak. "I'd actually like to stay with you, if it's possible," she said. "To tell you the truth, you're the only one I feel like I can trust right now... please?"

Shi-Yon looked up at her, his expression unreadable inside of his helmet. "It would let me keep watch over you in case that woman on the beach has allies," he said after a moment. "You likely won’t find it comfortable, though."

Azela didn't care, the thought of having a reliable ally was all that mattered.

He waved for her to follow him. Without bothering to clean the plate or put it away, Shi-Yon strode toward the front door and Azela hurried after him. She couldn't help but feel a sense of relief, knowing that she wouldn't be alone tonight.

Outside, the haven of Jastria was cold and still. Stepping from the porch outside the doorway to the worn dirt path below, drowsiness began to creep its way inside her, making her thoughts repeat themselves like echoes. It made concentrating on the village around her difficult and dizzying, so she focused on Shi-Yon.

His movements flowed with grace and fluidity. Combined with his armor so dark it seemed an illusion, he was nearly hypnotic. When she stumbled for the eighth time, she realized that watching him could put her to sleep and turned her attention to the path instead.

It made walking easier, but something was still missing. When she was brought ashore, it had been much harder to keep her balance, but she had eventually grown accustomed to being without whatever it was that she used to steady herself. Although she couldn't remember exactly what it was, she felt its absence keenly. All she could remember of what equalized her body was the feeling. It was something she kept behind her, like a backpack or a weapon.

Or a tail. Wings and a tail like a flying monkey. She cut this bizarre thought from her mind before it could repeat.

The rising sun cast a warm glow on the surrounding landscape, and the sounds of nature gradually filled the air as they passed the last of the local buildings, a soothing chorus of birds and insects that seemed to follow them as they walked. While most of the wildlife appeared to keep their distance from Azela, they seemed completely oblivious to Shi-Yon's presence.

As they approached Shi-Yon's tower, more and more plants began to take over the road. At first it seemed that this was a path not traveled often, but as Azela watched Shi-Yon's steps she noticed that they left no rocks, weeds or even a single blade of grass out of place.

It reminded her of how he left no footprints in the sand, and made no floorboards creak in MegaGlitch's tavern. But when she had fallen against him after Ayan set her down, he seemed anything but weightless. He felt hard, heavy, and strong.

And cold, she thought. In many ways.

His home was an ancient structure that took them roughly twenty minutes to walk to from the tavern. Shi-Yon explained the layout of the haven and points of interest as they walked, but Azela was too tired to pay attention. The rest of the structures Azela had passed by were made of mycelium bricks, but the tower was made of an eroded black material, solid as rock. Its massive doors opened with a yawn reminiscent of an old, tired man. Dust and rust fell from the frame.

"Is this your home?" she asked.

"It's where I keep my belongings and return when I am not needed elsewhere. If that is a home, then I guess this is it. You can take the bed. There’s a chamber pot beneath it."

She stepped through the door. Inside was only a single bed covered with a red blanket and stairs leading up and down. "What things? This room is so empty."

Shi-Yon said nothing. It didn't matter to Azela, who was so tired now that she forgot what she had just said, anyway.

She made her way quickly to the far end and fell on the bed. It was cold, stiff, and had no pillow, but seemed more used than the door had been. Azela fell asleep almost as soon as she wormed her way under the blanket. The last thing she saw was Shi-Yon walking downstairs.

The dreams came instantly. In them, shadows of familiar shapes rose and fell in a random swirl of murky colors. Among them was a man with wings of fire, a huge gate, and a fanged smile. Familiar as these were, they also seemed unreal, like things one would imagine from a storybook. Azela woke a few times in the dark, windowless spire but quickly drifted to sleep again, deciding to wait until someone came to retrieve her before getting out of bed.

And then, a dream that was different from the others. A woman, dressed in shining armor, danced while singing in an unearthly voice that was so beautiful that it elicited tears from Azela’s sleeping eyes. The woman's long, dark hair fluttered in the wind. Curved, vertical black lines seemed drawn across her cheeks from under each eye.

Around this woman were various floating globes that shattered as she touched them, and the ground cracked with every step she took. Soon the sky itself cracked and shattered, and the woman laughed as its pieces rained down on her. Then she stopped suddenly, turned directly toward Azela, and gazed deeply into her eyes.

Azela could see that the image reflected beyond the woman's silvery eyes had Azela's face, but with white hair instead of black.

In words that Azela remembered clearly as she awoke, the woman sang,

"You alone choose the path that you walk;

you alone choose the prey that you stalk.

And if you aren't careful, the dead will arise,

changing the color of hair and eyes.

One may be loving, caring, and giving,

but the other will feed on the hearts of the living."

Then the woman laughed, and the dream itself shattered into nothingness.