The Zombie Knight

“...This is too generous, lord.”

“No, it isn’t. I broke your arm, officer. Truthfully, this isn’t even close to enough. If there’s something else you want from me, just say it, and I’ll try to make it happen.” Hector bobbed his head a little. “As long as it’s not too crazy.”

The uniformed police officer on the other side of the table just looked at the check in front of him. The man hadn’t said very much since arriving here at Warrenhold.

It had taken Hector quite a while to track this guy down, in part because he’d been so damn busy and kept forgetting about it. But once he’d finally remembered to tell Ms. Rogers about it, the task hadn’t taken very long at all.

This man here was Officer Fred Michaels of the Klein City Police Department. And he was the poor guy whom Hector had injured during that time period when virtually every member of law enforcement in Atreya had been hunting him down.

It had been a sloppy, frustrating mistake, and Hector had been wanting to make amends for it ever since.

Fred, however, wasn’t giving him much to go on, here. The man merely remained stone-faced throughout this whole meeting.

Hector could only imagine what might’ve been going through the guy’s head. When Ms. Rogers told him that she’d put in a request for Fred to come to Warrenhold, Hector had actually gotten a little upset with her. He’d intended to go to Klein himself, not make the officer come all the way here, but by the time he learned of the situation, it was too late. Fred was already on his way.

Zeff was far from understanding or convinced. “That all sounds like an excuse to me. And a weak one, at best.”

Zeff’s brow furrowed, as if to brace himself for what he might be about to hear.

“Leave Graves and Vantalay behind,” said Gohvis. “Bring all your kin and come with me. I will take all the Rainlords of Sair into my protection.”

Lakefire.

Zeff made no response.

Gohvis kept pushing. “You wish to see your daughter, yes? With this, you can. I cannot yet allow her to leave, but I can bring you to her.”

Still, Zeff said nothing. Goddammit. He turned away from the Monster to look over the evening battlefield in the distance again, taking a deep breath and then exhaling slowly.

“I understand if this is not something you can decide upon quickly, but I would urge you not to delay. The longer you remain with Graves, the more tenuous this deal becomes--for you and for me.”

That, at least, brought immediate questions to Zeff’s mind. “What do you mean? Why should Graves be a factor?”

“Because if he learns of my offer, he will seek to use it. To manipulate you against me. Or to some other end, perhaps.”

“The two of you seemed to get along strangely well.”

“Yes, in spite of myself, I do not hate him. But that is also part of his game, at times. He often presents himself as very agreeable. He thinks of the bigger picture, I suspect. Hoping to gain trust for some vital future use, perhaps. But when the time comes--and make no mistake, it will come--he will discard you like so much trash and think no less of himself for it.”

“Hmph. So you know what goes on in his mind now, do you?”

“He and I have known each other for a very long time.”

Zeff had no retort for that. He was still struggling with the offer Gohvis had just made. He needed time to think, but from the sound of it, the Monster did not want to give it to him. Or at least, the Monster wanted to put time-sensitive pressure on him.

Agh.

“...I cannot make such a decision for everyone,” said Zeff. “That is not my role.”

“But it should be, Water Dragon.”

At that, Zeff had to turn and look at him again. “That is not our way.”

“Not anymore, no.” And for a few moments, Gohvis merely met his gaze with those infernal red eyes. “But I understand. Consult your reapers and your kin. And try to keep Graves from overhearing, if you can.”

“Hmph. So to make me more ‘receptive,’ you decided to kidnap my daughter in the midst of a terrible battle?” said Zeff bitterly. “A battle wherein you offered no aid to us, as well? Interesting strategy.”

“No aid? I seem to recall you having quite a bit of trouble with that little Marauder man until I removed him for you.”

“And Ivan? You had a nice and long conversation with him before disappearing. Do you know how many of my kin you could have saved that day with power like yours?”

Gohvis let that question linger, unanswered.

Zeff didn’t need a response, though. “Your words are insincere. Your intentions, muddy. You speak of Graves as if he is only out to manipulate me and my people--and perhaps that is true--but you do not strike me as any better. In fact, you are probably worse.”

“Mm. Probably? So you are not yet certain, then.”

Zeff scoffed.

“I will consider that progress,” said Gohvis.

“You are surprisingly flippant. I’d heard the Monster was never anything other than dour and humorless.”

He returned a slight nod. “It is true that, in the presence of fools and manipulators, my mood tends to worsen. But I do not think you are either of those things, Zeff Elroy.”

“If only I could say the same about you.”

Another rumble. Another laugh. “You do have some stones on you, don’t you? Not many would dare to say such things to me, anymore. It is almost refreshing.”

Never in his life would Zeff have imagined hearing the Monster of the East laughing so amicably in his presence. Or laughing at all, for that matter. He was at a loss for words now, quite frankly.

After a short time, Gohvis continued on. “I will not try to argue your points about me. In particular, if I am being perfectly honest with myself, I think there is some merit to the notion that I am too... insulated. That I am sometimes too concerned with my own goals and therefore blinded to other matters that might benefit from a modicum of my attention.”

Again, those were not things he had been expecting to hear from this man, right now. Where in the world was this conversation going, he wondered?

“It may be a product of age,” said Gohvis. “Perhaps you will notice the same thing, should you achieve similar years. Eventually, the world seems to... blend together, one might say. Many--or even all--problems that I encounter have begun to feel... recursive in nature. Chronic. To the point, perhaps, that addressing them is without purpose, because they will just keep reappearing, anyway.”

“Absurd,” said Zeff. “You claim you were essentially a son to him, and yet none else knew of your existence? If you were so close with Agam, then he would have made that clear.”

“And yet he did not. What does that tell you of his character?”

“Nothing. But it tells me that you have the character of a liar.”

“Mm. You are much like Gerard.”

Zeff stuck on that. The name of his father.

Gohvis just observed him for a few silent moments before continuing. “I appeared like this before him, as well.” A beat passed. “Well, not quite like this, I suppose. My projections were less refined. But it was similar enough. And he did not believe me, either. Nor did your grandfather, for that matter. The fiery, little Emilio. Now he was a belligerent one. I’m glad that you do not appear to have inherited his temper, at least.”

Zeff was at a loss. Could any of that be true? He remembered searching Axiolis’ memories of his father and grandfather both, but he didn’t recall any mention of his father meeting the Monster of the East.

His grandfather, though...

There had been something, hadn’t there? An encounter in Ardora that the man had only spoken of twice that Ax remembered, late into the man’s life.

Emilio Elroy said that he’d fought the Black Scourge in a tomb beneath a mountain. He said that the Black Scourge had even tried to strike a bargain with him after spouting off a bunch of nonsense.

“...My father never mentioned meeting you,” said Zeff.

“No? Ah. That is believable, now that I think of it. I believe our meeting was not long before his passing.” Gohvis’ tone shifted into one noticeably more somber. “Before everyone’s passing, I should say.”

Zeff made no response.

“Gerard and Emilio both had strong biases against me, thanks to the Vanguard,” said Gohvis. “Now... I suppose I am hoping that, with all you have been through, you will not be seduced by that same allure.”

“...If any of that is even remotely true, then why are you only appearing before me now? Why wait so many years? Why not show yourself to me when I was merely a child and far more impressionable?”

A low rumble arrived from the dragon man’s chest. A laugh? “Impressionable, you say? I observed you a bit during that time. You were not impressionable at all, in my estimation. You were more like... a little ball of righteous indignation. I do not think you would have been very receptive to me in the least.”

“Graves has a long history of backstabbing and betrayal,” said Gohvis. “Shall I list specific historical instances of it? We will be here for quite some time, and you will have no way of verifying my information, as he always goes to great lengths in order to cover his tracks. Even your reapers have probably only heard whispers about him, at most.”

“How narratively convenient for you,” said Zeff.

“Think so, do you? Tell me. What do you think would have happened if you had been rendered unconscious by Graves like the rest of your kin? Hmm? Think he would have come clean about everything, explained the whole situation to you?” Gohvis waited for him to say something, but Zeff merely remained quiet, so he continued on. “No, he would have swept it all under the rug. At best, he would have kept you completely in the dark about his presence. At worst, he would have not only recaptured all the prisoners you just freed but also captured the rest of you, as well.”

“Hypothetical situations are not going to convince me of anything,” said Zeff. “Why do you even care what happens here?”

“Why shouldn’t I? You are a noble people. I should not like to see your time cut short by yet another betrayal.”

“Ridiculous. You care nothing for us.”

“But I do. I’ve my own history with your kin, though I doubt you’ve heard much of it. If any.”

“Your doubt would be correct, then. I’ve heard nothing about any relation you have to us.” Well, that wasn’t entirely true, he knew. Parson Miles had mentioned something, but Zeff refused to trust those words.

Gohvis fell quiet for a time. “I have ties not just to your kin as a whole, but to House Elroy, in particular. To Agam Elroy, specifically.”

Zeff’s eyes widened.

Agam.

There that feeling was again. The feeling that there was something he was missing. Something right in front of his face, perhaps, that he simply couldn’t see.

“How did you know Agam?”

“He... raised me, you might say.”

What in the world? “Agam Elroy raised you? How could that possibly be true?”

“To be clear,” said Gohvis. “I am not a Rainlord. But when I was born, I was alone. I had nothing and no one. No parents. No kin of my own at all. And Agam, being the odd yet noble-hearted man that he was, decided to care for me.”

“So you can just appear in front of whoever you want, wherever you want, is that it?” said Zeff.

The Monster made no response.

Unsurprising, Zeff supposed. Gohvis had no reason to explain how his powers worked. In fact, he had every reason not to. At his level, maintaining such secrets was no doubt quite important, whenever possible. And considering how little the world seemed to know of this man despite his age, Zeff had to think that Gohvis took his secret-keeping efforts quite seriously.

Meaning he should probably watch his words here.

Yes. Logically, he knew that.

But his logic was not entirely in control, right now.

“Graves told me something of your abilities,” he went on. “You are not truly here with me, are you?”

Still no answer.

Zeff did have a point that he was getting to, though. “Whatever trick that is... might you teach it to my daughter? So that she and I can speak directly like this?”

“A bold ask,” said Gohvis.

“That is what you are doing, isn’t it? Teaching her? Or am I mistaken?”

Gohvis paused briefly. “Where did you come by this impression? I do not recall telling you my intentions for her.”

It was Zeff’s turn not to say anything. He wasn’t about to tell the man that Hector had some kind of psychic link with Emiliana via the Shards of the Dry God.

“You are surprisingly calm, as well,” said Gohvis. “I thought you would give me a harder time here.”

“I probably should. And I probably will, if you don’t give me some assurances, at the very least.”

“Assurances, is it? That is doable. But I did not come here to speak with you of Emiliana, so perhaps we can find an accord between the two of us.”

Zeff cocked an eyebrow. “An accord? Regarding what?”

“Graves.”

Zeff’s jaw tightened. “What about Graves?”

“You can’t trust him, you know. He is using you and all your kin like pieces on a game board.”

“Yes, I remember you saying that before. But you are not exactly a paragon of trustworthiness yourself, Monster of the East.”

“Mm. Even so, I advise you not to get too deeply involved with him.”

Zeff hadn’t been planning on it, but the mere fact that Gohvis was apparently going so far out of his way just to tell him this... was making Zeff quite curious. “Why not?”

That status quo lasted for nearly two thousand years, all the way up until the empire began slowly eroding that autonomy away from the Rainlords, as it had been doing with many other groups during that time period. And when the Mohssian emperor sent his new “Rain King” to rule over them, the bastard didn’t last long before the Redwater Twins declared full independence by killing him in his own throne room.

Zeff, therefore, was supremely uncomfortable with comparisons being made--even tenuous ones--between Hector Goffe and Rhein Ricardo.

But... goddammmit, he did have to admit that the legendary tales did have some... resemblance to what he knew Hector had been through.

What Zeff had himself been through, alongside the boy.

Ugh.

What a terrifying thought.

He rubbed his forehead and took a deep breath.

What was to become of his kin, now? Where were they going?

He’d heard plenty of loose talk, but the heads of all the Houses had yet to properly sit down and discuss it at length. Nor would they, Zeff figured, until they all returned to Warrenhold and fully reunited with everyone. Only then would each House have all of its most influential members present for such conversations.

But the temptation was certainly here, already. To Zeff’s mind, there was really only one route forward. The recapture of their ancestral homeland.

That probably would not require much discussion, other than deciding how soon they should attempt it.

But afterwards? What then?

Zeff couldn’t ignore this disturbing feeling in his stomach that things had already changed for his people in ways that could not be undone. That even after retaking Sair, the Rainlords would never again be the same.

Agh.

He was letting his mind wander too much. Letting the pre-battle anticipation get to him. An all too familiar feeling. He needed to--

“Water Dragon,” came a dark voice.

One he recognized.

He turned to his left and saw a monolithic figure there next to him, barely recognizable as human in the encroaching darkness of the evening.

He should have been surprised. Shocked, even. And yet somehow, Zeff Elroy was not. For a few moments, he merely maintained a flat expression on his face as he sized up the mountainous man, feeling abruptly as though this was a meeting that he had been expecting all along.

“...Scourge,” said Zeff. “I see you are indeed not dead, just as Graves said.”

“Mm.”

“Well, then,” said Octavia with a distant look in her eyes. “That certainly... puts things into perspective, at least. I’m looking forward to meeting this young man and his reaper again.”

The conversation didn’t last much longer after that. With night coming on, Octavia went to go rest. Wen did not go with her, but he did venture off to go talk to someone else. Even Axiolis ended up leaving Zeff alone with thoughts again.

Long after they were gone, Zeff’s mind still lingered on that last subject. He didn’t know how to feel about it. While he didn’t think that Ax was one to make such comparisons thoughtlessly, it still felt... like a strange decision on the reaper’s part.

He was tempted to call Ax back over and try to hash things out, but he had no idea what he would say. This unease in the pit of his stomach had no words to accompany it.

Was he afraid of something here? Did he think that Axiolis had some sort of... intentions at play, now? Hyping Hector up like that in front of Octavia? As if the boy even needed it, at this point.

Bah. But still. Rhein Ricardo was... an entirely different level of importance.

Some tales regarded him as an incarnation of Lhutwë himself. Others said, instead, that he had encountered Lhutwë and received the God of All Water’s everlasting protection--for him and all his future kin.

They said that Rhein Ricardo was the very reason why the divine materialization ability of water even existed in the first place. And why it continued to propagate into the future through the bloodlines of the Rainlords.

And of course, there were the tales of how Rhein distinguished himself among the ancient Arman people during their countless clashes with the Lyzakks, eventually establishing an entirely new warrior class known as Rainlords, who went on, long after his death, to seize power over the local government when the old regimes proved too incompetent and corrupt.

The Mohssian Empire had not been terribly pleased about that, but it was still quite young at the time, and the heroic legacy of Rhein, still fresh in everyone’s mind. So the Rainlords were able to negotiate a privileged status for themselves within the empire as a vassal group with unparalleled autonomy, so long as they recognized the emperor as their rightful ruler and fought in his name when he called for their banners.

A year ago, Axiolis would’ve been right about Zeff not being very receptive to that idea. But now?

Now he was much more tempted to agree with the reaper’s perspective.

He decided to keep that thought to himself, though. It hardly mattered, either way.

The conversation continued on, with Octavia soon bringing over her own reaper, Wen, in order to get his opinion on things, as well.

Not much was learned, however. Wen was non-committal, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with Axiolis; and he didn’t offer any information about asteros that hadn’t already been discussed.

Until, that was, Zeff asked a particular question.

“Ax said that he knew of other asteros whose growth was at least comparable to Hector and Garovel’s. So tell me something. Were any of those people Rainlords?”

Ax and Wen were both quiet for a time, and they exchanged looks.

‘...There have been a few,’ said Wen. ‘But the one that comes immediately to mind... Axiolis? I have a feeling you are thinking the same?’

‘The first Water Dragon,’ said Ax. ‘Rhein Ricardo.’

Zeff took pause. That was a name he was intimately familiar with, of course. Among the long history of his kin, Rhein was arguably the single most important figure. The Redwater Twins were more famous internationally, especially in the modern day, but among the Rainlords themselves, it was hard to say if that was the case.

Certainly, though, no one else was more revered. Various reapers, such as Wen here, had known the Twins personally and therefore also had some... less than flattering things to say about them. The Twins, while beloved as heroes in their own right, were nonetheless still regarded as very flawed human men.

But Rhein Ricardo...

The stories about him were truly legendary.

Some said that was only because the tales were so old. There were just too few reapers left who had existed during Rhein’s time, they said. It was easier, therefore, for the man to maintain an almost deified status as the father of all true Rainlords of Sair.

They said that.

But Wen and Ax here had both been around during his time, Zeff knew.

Which was why Zeff couldn’t stop himself from feeling a certain type of urgency all of a sudden. “Careful,” he said, intensity in his tone. “That’s a heavy thing you’re implying, right now.”

‘We’re not implying anything,’ said Ax. ‘You asked a question, and we’re answering it. That’s all.’

Zeff stared at Ax intently.

The reaper, for his part, merely stared right back.

Zeff had to admit, Ax was making a lot of sense. Enough, perhaps, that he was even starting to view Hector and Garovel in a new light. And perhaps the Rainlords as a whole, as well. Just a bit.

Hmm.

‘Have you not felt it yourself, Zeff? In their presence? A kind of... gravitational pull, of sorts? I know I have.’

Zeff made no response. He had some idea of what the reaper was talking about, but he wasn’t sure.

Octavia spoke up in his stead. “What do you mean by that? Gravitational pull?”

‘I’m not entirely certain, myself. Despite everything I’ve said, and despite my trepidation about asteros in general, I am also of the belief that there is yet more to them.’

“To Hector and Garovel or to all asteros?”

‘All of them. I gave you my opinion of what seems the most rational explanation for their existence. But I harbor other views, as well. Views which I’m sure you will be much less receptive to, being the godless heathens that you are.’

“Okay, Ax,” said Octavia, taking a defensive and doubtful tone. “I had almost forgotten about this side of you. But I suppose if you’re willing to share your crackpot religious views on the matter, then I am willing to listen.”

‘How kind of you.’

Zeff knew that the two of them were mostly exaggerating. Ax didn’t really think they were heathens, nor did Octavia think that Ax was a crackpot. This was just their way of poking fun at one another and lightening the mood.

...Probably.

“Are you about to tell us that you think Lhutwë is somehow responsible for the existence of asteros?” asked Zeff.

‘No, I don’t think so,’ said Ax. ‘But many who have studied asteros over the eons have come to think that, perhaps, their suffering is... in some way the will of the gods. Various gods. In various Ardoran cultures, for instance, they have their own term for asteros. They call them “kridanaki,” which means “playthings of the gods.”’

“And that’s what you believe, too?” said Octavia.

‘...A bit, yes. I’ll admit that I am uncertain, at least. But I simply find it too difficult to believe that all of the misfortune that I have seen so many asteros endure over the ages can be chalked up entirely to... their own doing. The idea that some invisible force may be involved seems... possible to me. Likely, even.’

“What’s the cause, then?” said Zeff.

‘Well, first of all, let me make one thing clear. Hector Goffe is not the astero here. The astero is Hector Goffe and Garovel together. That is one point that I think our people sometimes overlook or don’t realize. The reason asteros are so rare in the first place is because it’s not just one, singular madman coming into the world. God knows we have more than enough of those. No, it requires TWO madmen who find a kind of... perfect and terrible harmony with one another.’

“That’s an interesting way of putting it,” said Octavia. “So you are saying we should be just as mindful of this Garovel as well, then?”

‘Yes. That is, in my opinion, the true cause behind all asteros. The relationship between reaper and servant. They both have to be of precisely the right--or wrong--mindset. It doesn’t work if either one of them is normal. The reaper has too much power in the relationship, especially early on, for the servant to be the only deciding factor.’

Octavia smacked her lips. “Honestly, though, what is truly considered ‘normal,’ anyway? Isn’t that too muddy of a concept to work from?”

‘In this context? Normal means having a properly functioning sense of self-preservation.’

“Ah. Well, that makes things a little clearer, then...”

‘I can virtually guarantee you that Garovel places little to no value upon his own life. Otherwise, he never would have allowed his servant to get involved in so much danger at such a young age. And he certainly would not have allowed HIMSELF to get involved, either. Others might call him courageous--and be correct, depending on the circumstances--but to my mind, that is probably just the tip of the iceberg. And... seeing the growth that Hector has exhibited in the short time we’ve know him... mrgh. They hide it well, but nonetheless, I am still made quite fearful of the true DEPTH of recklessness that must have brought the two of them this far.’

A brief silence arrived.

“I can certainly respect your point of view and even share in it,” said Octavia, “but at the same time... isn’t that a bit hypocritical, coming from a bunch of Rainlords?”

‘I don’t think so,’ said Axiolis. ‘If anything, I’d argue that makes us MORE qualified to say that, not less.’

She gave a faint laugh. “Right, because if WE think someone is crazy, then they must be truly mad. Is that it?”

‘More or less. But also, I think it helps explain why our kin have become so enraptured with them so quickly. In many ways, they exemplify the pride and spirit of our people. It is a most... ancient feeling in us, I think. Instinctual. Essential. Tribal, even.’

It didn’t take long for Axiolis to show up, nor did it take long for Octavia to start laying into him.

“Axiolis, you old secret-keeper! What’s the matter with you?! How have you not been talking Zeff’s ear off about this whole astero situation with our new friend?! I know you must have some rather strong opinions about it, and yet Zeff tells me you’ve said ‘surprisingly little’ about the matter! Explain yourself!”

‘I’m glad to see you so spirited, Octavia.’

“Oh, thank you, darling. You know me. Can’t keep me down for long.”

‘Heh.’

“Now answer my damn questions.”

But apparently, the reaper was not going to be rushed. He took his time as he circled around the two of them, perhaps mulling over his next words. ‘...Could you ask something more specific? What exactly is it that you want me to tell you?’

“Hmph. Well, to begin with, how about the precedent for this whole thing? You must have seen countless asteros over the course of your life. Have you ever encountered a more extreme case than this one?”

‘...Not more extreme, no. But comparable, at least.’

Zeff perked up at that. “You never mentioned that.”

‘Mm. While I can understand your fascination with the subject, I am also... not so interested in discussing them anymore, myself.’

Octavia seemed to lose most of her fire. “Why?”

The reaper paused for a silent sigh. ‘Because never have I known their stories to progress happily. And their endings...’ Axiolis just shook his piscine head.

Zeff and Octavia were both quiet.

‘It is in their very nature, of course,’ said Ax. ‘Their shocking growth is due to their turbulent and terrible lives. But the world is vast, and eventually... well, eventually, what luck they have--if any--finally runs out.’

“You’re afraid, then,” said Octavia.

‘Absolutely, I am.’

Hmm. Zeff had to pick him up on that. “The rain fears not the torch, Ax.”

‘True. But it is not for myself or any of us that I am afraid, Zeff. Hector and Garovel are not of the rain.’

That was a fair point, Zeff supposed.

Octavia spoke next. “What else can you tell us about asteros? Is there some other... common denominator between them all? Besides their troubled lives, I mean?”

‘Oh, indeed. In fact, I would say that their troubled lives are--especially in the most extreme cases like this one--not merely a product of misfortune. In medical terms, one might call their lives... symptoms of the problem, not the cause.’

She took a few more moments to regain her composure. “...What is with that look on your face, huh? Am I amusing you, hmm?”

“I won’t deny it. In fact, I might just have to thank Hector for letting me see a new side of the ever-calm Lady of the Red Lake.”

“Zeff... are you telling me the truth? This is not some twisted joke to get a rise out of me? Because if it is, then I will be relieved but still quite unhappy. I’ve never known you to lie for fun.”

“It’s no lie,” said Zeff. “I’ve been training him extensively. In retrospect, his prowess was already impressive from the start, but there were still obvious gaps in his knowledge. Now, though...?”

“Now, what? He’s changed that much in so short a time?”

“Yes and no. He’s reached a point where it is difficult for me to gauge his true strength. Primarily because he has an annoying habit of holding back during training.”

“That’s not proof, then,” said Octavia. “He could’ve been playing ignorant in the beginning. And the reason he holds back now is because he is still trying to conceal his true strength from you. Which would be wise of him.”

Zeff chortled. “If he was pretending from the start, then he is an incredible actor. He even managed to fake having pathetically weak soul power.”

“Ah...”

“Yes.”

“I’ve... heard that’s possible, too,” said Octavia, though she sounded like even she didn’t believe it.

“Well, regardless, you can come to your own conclusions when you meet him yourself.”

She paused to exhale. “An astero to such an extreme degree...”

Her tone was making him curious. “I said he’s the most powerful one I’ve ever seen, but what about you? How many asteros have you encountered in your life, Octavia?”

She took her time answering that one. “A fair few, I suppose. I’d guess maybe... two or three per decade. But what you’re describing is... it’s almost unheard of.”

He stuck on that. “Almost?”

She shook her head. “I’m sure the reapers would know more. You must have discussed this matter with Axiolis by now, surely, no?”

“Of course.”

“And what did he have to say?”

“Now that I’m thinking about it... surprisingly little. But it has also been a while since we talked about it, so perhaps I should bring it up again.”

“Ugh.”

“We have been quite busy, you know.”

“You bring him over here, right now, young man. I want to talk to him.”

Zeff snickered. “Okay.” That was one order he was happy to follow. Listening to Octavia Redwater chew out one of the oldest reapers on the planet sounded like quite a good time to him.

“’Tis quite a rare thing, though,” Octavia went on. “Finding such a stalwart supporter at a time like this. In the face of both the Vanguard and Abolish. I have made many foreign friends over the years, but I do not know if any of them would have stuck their neck out for us as much as this fellow has. Going by all I’ve heard about him so far, I can’t help thinking that he must be either an incredibly confident warrior or one of the biggest fools I’ve ever heard of.”

“He’s neither of those things,” said Zeff, lowering his voice somewhat. No one was around to overhear, but it still felt appropriate. “He’s something far more dangerous. To both his enemies and to himself.” He leveled a stare at the old woman. “He’s an astero. And easily the most powerful one I’ve ever seen. While also still being the youngest, too, I think.”

She pulled away from him a little, and her head reared back. “An astero...” She needed a few moments to chew on that thought, apparently. “How young?”

“I don’t know for sure. He and his reaper are understandably reluctant to say, but... that just makes me think that the number might be even lower than I first suspected. Which is terrifying, honestly.”

“What is your guess, then?”

He couldn’t help hesitating. “...I think he may be as young... or even younger than my own children.” And he watched her face. He could practically see the gears turning in her head.

“So not even twenty, then?”

“No. Well, yes. But I meant... younger than them as servants.”

She blinked at him. “Tell me you’re joking.”

He just shook his head.

“So you’re saying he’s... what, less than eight? Seven?”

“Honestly, I think he may even be less than five.”

“That’s not... that...” The thought went unfinished as her hand found her own forehead. “I heard he bested Banda Toro in single combat and captured his reaper. Banda Toro. Do you know who that is? That is someone I might struggle with!”

Zeff did indeed know. Those Blackburn Triplets hadn’t been able to shut up about it. Not that the reapers were much better.

And frankly, Zeff didn’t know if he believed it or not. Even if it was all completely true, knowing Hector as he did, there was probably still more to the story, somehow.

Octavia was still going, though. “--and that is just one of the absurd things that I have heard! Yet you are trying to tell me that he--?! That he’s--?!”

Zeff just waited for her. This was a strange sight, indeed. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen this woman fumble over her words before.

Heh.

Zeff smiled another time. “I hope you’re right.” Coming from anyone else, he wouldn’t have believed it, but from her? Maybe she really did have that kind of power.

The sun waned in the sky. The day’s hostilities would soon come to an end, unless some eager warriors out there were feeling bold or desperate enough to launch a night raid.

Which was possible.

By his estimation, the VMP’s spirit was already broken, so the subset of Abolish forces were almost certainly at the end of their rope. Desperation might very well be on the menu tonight.

If they did launch an attack, though, it would be their last. Zeff would make sure of that.

“...So tell me more of this Lord Darksteel of Warrenhold that has been providing so much aid to us,” said Octavia. “You have gotten to know him quite well, from what I hear.”

“I suppose I have.”

“So spill. There are quite a number of rumors circulating about him. What is your opinion of him?”

“My opinion...” Hmm. Why did that seem like such a hard thing to provide? “Umm...”

Octavia just waited for him.

Whenever it came to Hector, Zeff had this impulse to be... stricter than perhaps he should have. He knew this. For the boy’s own good, that felt right and necessary.

Now was not the time for that, though. Octavia had only met him briefly back at Rheinhal, and her asking like this was probably more than mere curiosity. It was trust in Zeff’s judgment.

If he said something overly harsh, she would take it to heart.

“...He has been a truer ally and friend to us than I could have possibly ever hoped for,” said Zeff.

“Oh my.”

“But if you tell him I said that, I’ll deny it.”

She laughed outright. “I see!”

Zeff just let her keep laughing.

“That is a relief, then,” she said. “I was a bit worried when I heard about just how much we’ve apparently gotten entangled with him, but if you think so highly of him, then there must be something to it. I know you don’t extend your trust very easily.”

Zeff had to wonder if she’d wanted to add an “anymore” to the end of that last statement. It was kind of her not to, but he was fully aware that his trust in the Vanguard was a very large part of the reason why any of them were in this situation in the first place.

But maybe he was just reading too much into her words.

“Don’t apologize, boy. You should feel whatever way you want, right now. It’s a difficult position you’re in. Whatever you have to do to cope, you go ahead and do it. All I ask is that you pick something that’s not self-destructive. And brooding, well... brooding is questionable on that front, I’m afraid, but you certainly could’ve picked a worse mechanism.”

Zeff made no response.

“Dwell on things too much? Drive yourself crazy. But at the same time, it’s healthier than going off and venting your frustrations via bloodlust. Or actual lust. Or, god forbid, by abusing the people you’re supposed to love. Next to all that stuff, brooding doesn’t seem so bad to me.”

“...Seen that all before, haven’t you?”

“I have. Along with even worse examples, if you can believe it. The kind of examples that are still too painful to even utter.”

He had a vague idea of what she might’ve been referring to, but it would’ve been wrong to push, he felt.

She wasn’t done talking, though. Her wrinkled hand found his face, and she made him turn to look her in the eye with that steady, steely gaze of her that she rarely ever resorted to. “So if you need to brood, then brood. Just don’t forget that we’re all still here for you, too, my dear. And that the world isn’t a completely dark place, much as it might sometimes feel like it.”

His eyes eased shut, and he took her hand in his own. “Thank you.”

And for a while, she just stood there with him in silence as they looked over the battlefield together.

“...Think I see rain on the horizon,” she said.

He spotted the clouds she was talking about. Barely visible now, but quite dark. She was probably right.

“Y’know,” she went on, “supposedly, our ancestors could tell the difference between a good storm and bad storm from two days away. Or more, even.”

A good storm or a bad storm. An interesting distinction, but one that he and all other Rainlords were familiar with. A bad storm was the kind that brought nothing but destruction. The kind that did nothing but ruin or take lives.

A good storm, though? A good storm was the kind that cleaned the roads and swept all the stagnant water away. The kind that children could dance and play in without fear of being carried off by terrible winds or surging rivers.

“I wonder if I’m there yet,” she said. “Got a feeling in my bones. Like this one will be a good storm.”

A string of explosions sputtered across the battlefield in the distance. Diego’s handiwork, perhaps?

Maybe not. Zeff was probably being too hopeful. Such an impressive attack might’ve been too much for the young “Red Hunter” to pull off, still. He’d heard that Diego had achieved emergence at Logden, but he’d yet to see him in action since then.

“I see that you are still a fan of venturing off on your own to brood,” came a voice from behind him.

He just kept leaning on the metal wall that one of the other servants had materialized around their encampment. He didn’t need to turn around to know that it was Octavia Redwater approaching. He wanted to respond, but a fitting retort wasn’t coming to mind. Except, perhaps, one that would be needlessly rude.

And that was the last thing he wanted to be to someone whom he owed so much.

“You’re not so different, after all, I think.” Her tone had an old and familiar softness to it. Enough so that it briefly transported him back to his teenage years.

And despite his mood, he couldn’t help smiling just a bit. “God, it’s good to have you back, Octavia.”

“Hoho! Thank you. You’re more affectionate than I remember, though.” She leaned over next to him and bumped into him purposely.

“Heh. Maybe I’ve finally learned to cherish what I have while I still have it.”

“Doubt it.”

He snorted. “Have the others been saying that I’ve changed?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m not one for gossip.”

“You are one for lying, though, apparently.”

“How hurtful.” She allowed a beat to pass. “Okay, fine, maybe I’ve been listening to a few rumors. But I had to! So much to catch up on, you know!”

“I do know, indeed. You’ve been sorely missed.”

“Aww.” She bumped him again. “From the sound of things, you’re really coming into your own as the Water Dragon of Sair.”

Now that, he did not believe at all, and he couldn’t stop himself from scoffing.

“What’s that sound for?”

“I’ve done nothing but fail ever since...” He shook his head and blinked slowly, trying recall. “Lakefire, I’m not even sure how long it’s been, anymore.”

“Ah. The brooding, then. I see.”

He could already tell what she was getting at. And she wasn’t wrong, he knew. “I’m sorry. I should be happier with our great victory.”

Since time immemorial, the Rainlords had not been in the habit of massacring non-servant armies without leaving them the chance to retreat. They considered it dishonorable both as warriors and as servants. In fact, Rainlords who disregarded that unwritten rule were historically punished quite severely--even disowned as Rainlords, in certain extreme cases.

Their Arman ancestors had not been the same way, however.

That was one of the reasons why Rainlords had decided to distinguish themselves as such in the first place: to break away from the utter ruthlessness that the Armans had been known for while still trying to pay them homage for all that they accomplished.

Zeff sometimes wondered if that was a fruitless effort, though. Or a self-deceptive one, perhaps.

This barbarism that he felt in his heart. This anger. This desire to go forth and destroy his enemies. Maybe it was just in his blood. Maybe it always had been.

Maybe Parson Miles had been right about that much, at least.

Foolish thoughts.

He shook his head and took a deep breath before looking out across the vast horizon again.

He was torn in equal parts as he considered heading back out there to do battle. On one hand, it wasn’t his turn. He was supposed to be taking rest. But on the other, he wasn’t tired, and this bloodlust wasn’t calming down.

But on the other other hand, that probably wasn’t a good sign, was it?

He shouldn’t indulge this feeling, now.

Discipline. Self-control. He needed these more than ever. He knew he did.

Because his son had not been here. Francisco had not been among his captured kin.

He’d come so far, done so much, and tried so hard to temper his expectations for fear of disappointment--and none of it had mattered.

The disappointment had been crushing, just the same.

Gema. Francisco. Emiliana.

Three of his five children. All missing. And in fact, Francisco was now the one whose whereabouts he knew the least about. Where in the world were you, boy? What had you gotten thrown into?

He wanted to have confidence in him. The boy was certainly tough for his age, but in some ways, that was worrisome, too. Cisco had always struggled to make friends. Or... perhaps it was that Cisco had never cared to make friends.

Zeff wasn’t sure which. But either way, out there in the world, all on his own, Zeff might’ve felt more relief if Cisco were the friendlier sort. It was almost always better to make allies out of people who might otherwise be his enemies.

Zeff felt like he himself had taken far too long to learn that particular lesson. Hell, he still questioned whether he actually had or not.

Why did that boy have to take after him so much?

Damn it all.

“Interesting,” said Ibai. “He doesn’t sound too terrible, in that case. Apart from being a little judgmental. And manipulative.”

‘And unpredictable,’ said the Weaver. ‘Out of the all the primordial gods I’ve read about, he may be the one that I would fear the most.’

“Really? That doesn’t seem right. Hada seems way scarier. At least Ettol would have a chance of being on your side.”

‘No, but that’s the thing. Ettol would at first appear to be your friend. Maybe even someone you already know quite well. In fact, you may never even know he was there to begin with until he had already passed judgment on you. With Hada, at least you could see him coming and try to prepare yourself.’

Ibai bobbed his head. “I gotta say... I find it a little curious how he’s also the God of Rebirth, along with Impulse and Deceit. Do you know how he got those names?”

‘I do not. But it appears to be a pattern with each of the Primordials. They all have three monikers.’

“A trinity of power,” observed Ibai.

She paused at that. ‘I... yes. I hadn’t thought of it that way, but yes, perhaps that is exactly right. Hmm.’

“I wonder what it really means to be a ‘god.’”

‘A good question, if ever there was one.’

“Mmhmm. Think I wanna go do some reading, now.”

‘Ah, okay. So was any of that helpful? If you’re able to somehow figure out the Library’s deepest, darkest secrets from just that bit of information, then I’d sure love to hear about how and why.’

“Oh, it was super helpful! Thank you!”

‘Uh-huh. What do you plan to do now? After your next reading session, I mean.’

Another big grin split his face. “Simple! I’m gonna write a new book!”

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!