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Chapter Text

Slumber 53, A.R. 372

“Hold still.”

“I am holding still.”

“Stiller, then,” Tsuki said, pressing the last strip of fake fur over the scar on Saigo’s face. The glue made the half-healed wound itch.

“I’m not going to get any stiller unless you nail my clothes to the chair.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

Saigo contrived to hold his head even stiller, despite the fact it was already firmly pressed against the shed wall behind him.

“Aaaand…done,” Tsuki said, leaning back. She studied him critically, violet eyes narrowed.

“How does it look?” Saigo asked.

“You look like you’re in the middle of a really long wink, but other than that you look basically like any other grey cat out there,” Tsuki said, picking glue off her pads. “Seriously, though, you should get rid of those stitches.”

“I told you, it’s not fully healed yet,” Saigo said, reaching up before remembering Tsuki’s eight previous warnings to not touch his face. “Changing my fur and covering up the scar should be plenty for now. I’ll pull out the stitches when I’m ready. Where’d you learn to do this, anyways?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Tsuki grunted, walking over to a bucket of water and scrubbing her hands. “I grabbed the cheapest stuff I could find, so it’ll only stay good for a week and a half before it starts fading.”

“I appreciate you coming up with the idea in the first place,” Saigo said, examining his arms. They were a light grey and striped with black now, all the way up beneath his shirt sleeves. “When I said I needed to disguise myself, I was thinking more along the lines of coming up with a spell, but this is even better.”

“Oh, of course it’s a magical solution instead of a practical one,” Tsuki said, shaking the water off her hands. “Who would have thought?”

“Scrap is a practical solution,” Saigo said. “When you have the right formula, at least. This, though…thanks again. I owe you one.”

“I’ll tally that up with all the other favors you owe me,” Tsuki said, gathering up the tins and brushes she’d used. “You’d better have your ‘practical’ magic solution figured out by the time this wears off, because I won’t be doing it for you again.”

“Fair enough,” Saigo said, picking up his sweater. “It’s set enough that I can put clothes over it, right?”

“Should be. Just don’t touch your face yet,” Tsuki said over her shoulder.

Saigo lifted his sweater over his head, taking care to avoid touching his face with any part of it until the somewhat stretched collar settled around his neck. He slid his arms through and rolled up the sleeves; the inside of the shed had turned out to be surprisingly well-insulated.

Tsuki had picked it out within several minutes of their arrival yesterday. She had a knack for navigation, which had also come in handy when escaping the ruins under the city of Jumon three days prior. If it weren’t for her, Saigo would probably still be poking around beneath the Harbor.

They’d spent the last two days traveling to the small farming town they were currently hiding out in—Simato, Tsuki had called it. It didn’t feel quite far enough away from Jumon, but Saigo couldn’t exactly be picky at a time like this.

“So what’s the plan from here on out?” he asked, pulling on his spell vest. So long as he kept the stamped Seeker Division insignia covered with his scarf, most people wouldn’t pick up on the fact it had twenty spells hidden inside it.

“Don’t look at me, you’re the planner,” Tsuki said sitting down on an overturned bucket. She’d removed her studded gloves and rolled up her sleeves for the task of dying Saigo’s fur, revealing for the first time her own fur was white from her hands all the way up to her elbows.

“I do like making plans,” Saigo agreed, digging through the interior pockets of his vest. “I don’t have anything set yet, but anything to do with moving around in public should be done sooner rather than later, I think. I can’t imagine the Vigil are going to give up looking for us anytime soon.”

“You think so? Wow, and I thought they’d give up the moment we left the city,” Tsuki said, putting her hands behind her head and glancing around the shed theatrically. “Given the fact they haven’t busted the door in already, I guess we completely lost them, huh?”

“I don’t know if that’s the best criteria to judge the Vigil’s capabilities by, but sure,” Saigo said, finding what he’d been looking for. “Did you by chance see where their tower is?”

“I was being sarcastic. And yes. It’s at the center of town. Smaller than others. Not many patrols out, either. There rarely are in little towns like this.”

“That’s good,” Saigo said, nodding absently.

He stared down at the small metal trinket in his hands—an unblinking eye, which always seemed to stare back at him no matter what angle he held it at.

“Figured out what that thing does yet?”

Saigo looked up. Tsuki’s eyes met his for a moment, then returned to the trinket.

“Not yet,” Saigo said. “I don’t think it’s the right time.”

He pried the eye open, reading the inscription for perhaps the fortieth time.

I will teach you to see, it said in thin, sharp-scratched Kaikan. He flipped it around. But only when you reach the path’s end. Tread carefully.

“It’s probably magic somehow. Just find the command or whatever and figure out how it works,” Tsuki said.

“It might not be as simple as that,” Saigo said, snapping it closed and replacing it in his vest. “I’m not sure I want to start fooling around with it, either, not until I know what it’s meant to be used for. It could be dangerous.”

“Best way to figure out what something does,” Tsuki said. “If it does end up trying to melt you or turn your bones into ice or something, just use one of your zippy spells to get out of the way.”

“If nothing else, I admire your forensic spirit,” Saigo said dryly. “I’m more inclined to figure out what a spell does before yelling its command. Besides, we’ve still got the other clue to figure out.”

“You’ve got the other clue to figure out,” Tsuki corrected him. “Your treasure hunt, remember? I’m just tagging along and kicking you in the ass where needed.”

“Which is all greatly appreciated, believe me,” Saigo said, rolling his eyes. “Someday I will have to return the favor, you know.”

“Yeah? Like how?” Tsuki asked, the edge of her voice suddenly coated in a fine sprinkling of ground glass.

Saigo shifted uneasily, fully aware he was treading on shaky ground.

“Well…you know…”

“I said I’d tell you when I want your help, didn’t I?” Tsuki said. “I don’t have any leads anyways. Let’s just focus on figuring out your clues.”

Saigo stared at her, searching for the right words. She returned his gaze, her scowl deepening with every passing second.

“…Yeah, you’re right,” he finally said, looking away. “It’s a better idea to translate the tablet for now. That ought to give us some direction. I hope. Did you happen to see a library anywhere while you were looking around town?”

“You really think I’d be looking out for something like that?”

“Point taken,” Saigo said, bending over his pack. He pulled out his inkpen, a couple sheets of paper, and a few other things, placing them in his crude satchel. He hefted his coin purse, trying to judge its contents by weight alone.

“Hey, how much money do you have?” he asked.

Tsuki looked up from fiddling with her bandolier of knives, currently resting on her lap.

“Enough. Why?” she said. “Did you want to help me lift some stuff from the scales?”

“No, no no no, I was just checking we had enough funds in general,” Saigo said hastily, buckling his pack closed. “I think I’ve got somewhere around forty hatch, so I should be okay for a while.”

He slung his satchel over his head and paused, looking back at Tsuki.

“That…breaking into a Vigil tower was a joke, right?” he said.

“What do you think?” Tsuki said, using a rag to polish the blade of one of her knives.

“…I think I’m better off not knowing,” Saigo said. “If you were being serious, though, would you please consider maybe not doing that? Given how not-long-ago the whole Harbor thing was—”

“Yeah, yeah, you don’t have to give me all your reasons,” Tsuki grumbled, flapping a hand at him. “I’m not about to make a mess I can’t clean up myself. Don’t get your tail in a twist.”

“All right,” Saigo said, settling his satchel on his hip. “I’m going to go look around town. You want to come?”

“I’m staying here.”

“Okay,” Saigo said, winding his scarf around his neck. “Stay safe and let me know if there’s anything I can do to help out.”

“Mm,” Tsuki said noncommittally. “Don’t get into trouble.”

“Can’t promise anything there,” Saigo said. He hesitated in front of the door and looked back. “You’re sure nobody’s going to find this place?”

Tsuki shrugged.

“Can’t promise anything,” she echoed back at him. “Besides, that’ll be their problem if they try to walk in, not mine.”

“Don’t maim anyone, then, if you will,” Saigo said, opening the door. “Okay, bye for now.”

“Just go already, would you?”

Saigo closed the shed door and walked down the narrow alleyway to the street beyond. His breath misted in the air, fading away long before it could reach the distant grey clouds.

His ears twitched as he turned onto the street. From what little he could hear, there didn’t seem to be much going on, and judging from the position of the dull circle of light behind the clouds, he was still an hour or so out from second cycle.

With some luck, he’d have at least until third cycle before something interesting happened to him.

Saigo swiveled his ears and caught the rumble of a cart. He turned in its direction, catching sight of it just as it turned a corner. He started walking, the frozen dirt underneath his paws as solid as stone.

He came up to the road he’d seen the cart turn onto, and now his paws hit true stone, rising up from the dirt like the shore of an emerging island. He glanced up at a wooden street sign, squinting to make out the words hidden among the splinters: Rotu Way.

Not the slightest bit familiar.

Perfect.

He looked up and down the main road, which wasn’t much wider than the street he’d just come down. The cart he’d seen, drawn by a pair of gently plodding tulya, lurched away toward the open hills beyond the edge of town. A few people meandered here and there on quiet errands, bundled up against the cold.

Saigo rubbed his hands together and stuck them in his pockets, looking around to see what stood out along the sleepy main road. A few neat shops, a cluster of market stalls whose owners chattered amongst themselves, a Peacekeeper guardhouse, and—oh, there it was.

Like Tsuki had said, it stood only a couple stories tall, built of thick white stone. A flag flapped at the top, displaying an ochre set of scales, balancing the sun and moon.

The Vigil tower.

He couldn’t see any patrols out on the street right now, though there was a pair stationed in front of the tower’s gated courtyard. Disguise or not, he’d be giving them a wide berth.

He started down the road in the opposite direction of the squat tower, nodding and smiling at anyone who met his eye. They nodded back in the amiable manner of a small town that saw few strangers and even less trouble.

Saigo caught sight of himself in the reflection of a shop window and made a mental note to thank Tsuki again when he got back to the shed. He could barely see anything of a scrawny black cat with a scarred face, wanted by the Vigil and exhausted from constant running.

Instead, he saw a scrawny, black-banded grey feline with a droopy eyelid, going about a day’s errands. Not suspicious at all, so long as nobody who knew his scent got a whiff of him.

He shook himself and moved on, stepping a little more confidently. If he was lucky—and only the Celestials knew which direction that worked in—there might be a place with a few books he could borrow somewhere around here.

Part of him wanted to do nothing more than wander around and sightsee, but the other and larger part of him that had been on the run for ten-odd weeks had a much more compelling argument against straying from the task at hand.

General store…unlikely. Cozy breakfast-and-bed bunkhouse…equally unlikely, but with a charming sign. Olinoo stable offering cleaning and renting services…also unlikely, but maybe he could come back with a handful of redgrass later. A…was that what he thought—?

“Saigo!”

Saigo jumped, his hackles springing to attention as a deep and slightly hollow voice echoed abruptly through his head. He looked around quickly, then turned toward a display window and pretended to be staring at a row of cookies.

“Oh, sorry about…hey now. You look…different. Wait a moment, what happened?”

“Hi, Hadvo, nice to…hear from you,” Saigo said, keeping his voice low and glancing out of the corner of his eye to check no one was coming up on him. “Yes, uh, yeah, new disguise, sort of thing. Where’ve you been?”

“Oh? Oh. I’ve been, um, you know…elsewhere. Taking care of…business. Sorry I’ve been gone so long, but…it’s…”

“I know, I know, you can’t say,” Saigo sighed. “You’ve got other things going on. When will you tell me where you go and what you’re up to?”

“Sorry, Saigo, I know you’re sick of hearing it, but—”

“‘Later,’ I know,” Saigo said, inspecting a small display of sugared flowers. “I’d object but I know it won’t do a bit of good, so I’ll save us both the trouble. You seemed excited when you dropped in. Something big happen?”

“Oh, that? I was just…eager to see you. But seriously, what’s with the…dye? Did you dye your fur? It looks…it looks good.”

“I’m not sure about dye, I think it’s more like makeup, actually,” Saigo whispered. “Tsuki came up with the idea when we were talking about how to make me…lay low better. It’s just a one-time thing until I figure out a spell or something. But yeah, fake fur over the scar, and this…it made me think of wood varnish, but she used it to grey parts of my fur. Handy stuff.”

“Really? Wow. Interesting. How come we never thought about this before?”

“Probably because neither of us knows the first thing about cosmetics. From what I gather, it’s expensive stuff.”

“Yeah, that’d make sense. Where is this place, anyhow? You two were on the road the last time I checked in.”

“Tsuki said it’s called…shards, I had it a second ago. Simato, that’s it,” Saigo said. “Small town, upwards of Jumon, left of the shardcage. But, uh…how’re you doing?”

“Me? I’m fine. How are you? Hasn’t been long since the Harbor.”

“I’m…doing pretty well, actually,” Saigo admitted. “Still recovering from…you-know-what, but things have been surprisingly quiet. I’m looking forward to figuring out this next clue. Here’s hoping it doesn’t lead to anywhere near as public as the Harbor…”

“I’m with you there. Your life is rough enough without the stunts. Speaking of the clues, have you made any progress?”

“I’m actually looking for a place to translate the tablet right now,” Saigo said, turning away from the display window. “I thought I saw something right before you showed up…”

He glanced around. Of the few people out and about he could see, none of them seemed to be looking in his direction.

“That, right over there,” he muttered, nodding at a small building squashed between a shabby Silver Thread clinic and a clothing boutique. Its dusty windows didn’t offer much of a view into its interior, seeing as they were crowded with teetering stacks of books.

“It looks like a bookshop.”

“Yes, I noticed that,” Saigo said, moving up the road toward it. “And I certainly hope it is. I don’t think there’s a library anywhere in town, so this ought to be the next best thing.”

“Is the owner from Vrakta or something?”

“No, Hadvo, I’m hoping to find a Vraktaan-to-Kaikan dictionary so I can translate the tablet myself,” Saigo explained patiently.

“Oh. Ohhhh. Okay. That makes more sense. Did you lug the whole tablet here with you?”

“No, I copied it down on paper,” Saigo said, stopping in front of the door to the shop and looking up at the sign. “Beppi’s Books. Doesn’t sound like a Kaikan name.”

“Still looks like your kind of place.”

Saigo nodded in agreement, then pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Slumber 53, A.R. 372

Glingalinging

Dusty air swirled curiously around Saigo’s whiskers, questing briefly up his nose and making him sneeze.

The interior of the bookshop was bereft of a light source beyond the tome-clogged windows. What few lances of grey sunlight made it through the cracks were stifled before they could make it more than a couple feet past the door.

Saigo took a tentative step into the gloom and immediately stubbed his paw on a stack of books. Physical inquisitiveness curtailed, he instead shuffled in place, peering deeper into the shop as his eye adjusted.

Bookshelves lined and completely obscured the walls, packed to the brim with volumes of every shape and size. Towers of books filled most of the available floorspace, some rising all the way to the ceiling in elaborately constructed spires.

The longer Saigo looked, the more patterns he found—books organized by size here and color there, stacked in sweeping spirals or sturdy blocks, one corner dedicated entirely to an archway made up of theses on medicinal plants and their uses.

He edged away from the nearest cascade of hondar-hide-bound books and located a winding path, leading into the yet-unseen depths of the shop.

Saigo stepped cautiously, the floorboards creaking under his paws but muffled by a thick rug. He paused after every step, looking over the titles nearest him; many of them were in Kaikan, several were in different languages, but there were some…

He stopped and brushed away the dust on the nearest loose book, confirming his suspicions. The title was nothing more than flowing squiggles, absent of any comprehensible pattern.

Saigo picked up the book and flipped it open. All along its pages—every single one of them—the same intertwined shapes lined up in orderly segments, mimicking the flow of sentences and paragraphs and entirely devoid of meaning.

No…mimicking was the wrong word. Once upon a time, they had been real words. No longer, though, not since the Shatter, when every written work had been shredded into malignant indecipherability.

“Script,” he muttered to himself, turning the book over. The wandering lines didn’t look much better upside down. He could barely tell which way the book would have originally been read.

“Right, that one weird language.”

“Not a language. Not even a code,” Saigo whispered. “Languages can be translated, and codes can be broken, if you’re smart and lucky. Nobody’s been enough of either yet, and nobody’s found a magic that can reverse it, either…”

“I can’t imagine they’ll stop trying, though!”

Saigo whipped around, his fur springing to attention at the sudden voice. In a previously unnoticed pocket between spiraling tome-towers, a shai sat behind a desk, a Script-scrambled book open in front of them.

They pushed a set of glasses up and away from plum-colored eyes to rest in a muss of thick white hair on top of their head, then snapped the book in front of them shut with a sharp clop sound.

“Good afternoon! I’m terribly sorry for jumping into your self-conversation without an invitation, but sometimes I just can’t help myself,” they said, grinning apologetically. “What can I interest you in?”

“He…hello,” Saigo said, his fur gradually de-puffing. “Shards, you scared me. Are you the, uh, owner here? Sorry for muttering to myself, I was just—”

“—intrigued, I suppose?” the shai finished for him, standing up and squeezing their way out from behind the book-laden desk. “My apologies again, I’m simply eager—but not to worry, not to worry, you’ll find me the same way, especially in here amongst all my precious friends. Did that book catch your eye?”

“Not in the way that I’d hope to buy it, I’m afraid,” Saigo said, closing the aforementioned book and replacing it where he’d found it. “I’m looking for books that are a little more…legible.”

“Very fair, very fair, there’s a hard limit to how enjoyable a Scripted book can be,” the shai agreed, coming around a stack of book. They settled themselves in front of Saigo, hands in their pockets, a striped sweater vest stretched across their broad chest.

Their bulk might have been intimidating if they hadn’t been a few inches shorter than Saigo and wearing a wide, almost silly grin. No extra-jointed fingers, so they weren’t a nik, and a business locked in one place went completely against an etsu’s nature, so they were almost certainly a mei.

“Well then!” they said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ah…”

They waggled their eyebrows expectantly at Saigo.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Honto is my name, Honto Gimei,” Saigo lied, bowing slightly. “Pardon my intrusion, I was admiring your collection. Is this a storefront or a personal library?”

“A bit of both, Honto-ell, a bit of both,” the mei said, glancing fondly around the room. “The name’s Beppi of Konvya, and this is my livelihood and my home. I assume you’re here in pursuit of a book?”

“I am, yes, but I have to admit I’m curious about how you have so many Scripted books, ell,” Saigo said, looking up at the nearest stack. “I’m surprised to even see any outside of the Scholarium Archive, not to mention them all being in such good condition.”

“Oh, you flatter me,” Beppi chuckled, picking up a book and thumbing delicately through its unreadable pages. “I’m no scholar, unfortunately, my interest being more in collecting than discerning, but I’ve done my utmost to properly preserve what old works fall into my lap. Even if right now they hold no intellectual value beyond a reminder of the greatest cataclysm our world has ever seen, I’m sure a day will come when something will change and their knowledge will again be freely accessible.”

“I hope so,” Saigo said, watching the pages turn. “It’s hard to imagine any kind of magic powerful enough to undo the Shatter, though.”

“Oh, but there must be!” Beppi said earnestly, snapping the book shut. “The Saisho were mighty indeed, as were their magics, but they still fell in the face of the Wardens. If the Celestials were to call new Wardens with power matching that of the Fourfront, who knows what could be possible.”

“It’s been nearly four hundred years since the end of the Age of Saisho,” Saigo said. “I think if there was a need for more Wardens they would have shown up by now. Besides, the Fourfront were the first and the last.”

“So everyone says, but we hardly have an accurate account of everything before them,” Beppi said, turning away and strolling deeper into the bookshop. “Not to mention we know nothing of what the future holds! Perhaps there will come a day when the warui break from their shardcage prisons and Script must be undone to find some lost weakness of theirs. And who can say what other calamities might befall Hecuan? The Celestials cannot sleep forever, nor do I think they would wish to.”

“…Well, the world’s bound to change one way or another,” Saigo said after a moment’s thought. “I just hope things never get bad enough that we need Wardens again. But, you know, tomorrow will never be today.”

Beppi paused suddenly halfway up a stepladder. They pushed their glasses down onto their nose, pulling something out of their pocket at the same time.

Saigo tensed, then realized the mei had produced nothing more threatening than an inkpen and a small notebook.

“Tomorrow…will…never…be…today,” Beppi muttered to themself, scribbling carefully. They snapped the notebook closed and replaced it in their pocket, looking up. “I must say, that’s a wonderful pairing of words, Honto-ell. I hope you don’t mind me borrowing that? I’m writing a memoir—or I will, once I find the time.”

“Oh, no, go right ahead,” Saigo said hastily, rubbing his head. “I don’t think that’s mine in the first place. Must have been…it must have been from a book I read. I think.”

“Is it now? Goodness, I wonder if it might be in my collection somewhere,” Beppi mused, rubbing their chin. “You wouldn’t happen to remember the title, would you? Author? Appearance, edition, paper type, ink color, anything of the like?”

“I’m afraid not,” Saigo said. “Sorry about that.”

“Nothing to worry about, the hunt is by far the most delightful part of the process,” Beppi said, climbing another step of the ladder and running a finger along a row of books. “Now…though it has been pleasant, I must assume you didn’t come here just for me to prattle on about Script and Wardens and the like?”

“Not quite, but I will admit it was pleasant to speak to someone who really knows their stuff,” Saigo said. “I came here in hopes of finding a dictionary for Kaikan to Vraktaan, actually.”

“That I can do, my good friend,” Beppi said, hopping up a step higher and pulling down a book. They descended the ladder, then tiptoed their way lightly between the teetering towers of books, finding some hardly discernible path and treading it with practiced grace.

Saigo watched with interest as something like a performance unfolded in the crowded and dusty bookshop. Beppi floated their way past shelves and around stacks of books, plucking one here, selecting one there, replacing one there. On a few occasions, they pulled a book directly from one of the elaborate towers, making it shift slightly before settling back in on itself.

By the time they ended up in front of Saigo, Beppi held a stack of books under one arm and had the other extended in a half bow. After a moment, they straightened up, flushing slightly.

“I hope this selection suits you,” they said, presenting the stack of books to Saigo. “Please excuse my eccentricities—I’m accustomed to moving about the place in…my own way, suffice it to say.”

“No, no, that was very interesting,” Saigo said, accepting the stack and shuffling through me. “It made me think that this place is really yours, with how well you know your way around it. How long have you had this bookshop?”

“I’ve been collecting from a very young age, so you could say it began as early as that,” Beppi chuckled, rounding the stacks back to their desk. “I’ve had the actual shop some thirty-odd years, and the books come far more often than they go. The real business is in repairing and refurbishing, but I sell them when I must.”

Their face fell, the bright smile turning rather sad and small.

“I suppose you’ll be wanting to purchase whatever best suits you?” they said, nodding morosely at the books in Saigo’s arms. “It’ll be a shame to part with it, but if you did come here looking for a book…”

They trailed off, sighing to themself.

“Oh, these? No, no no no, I’m sorry, I didn’t explain,” Saigo said hastily. “I wasn’t looking to buy today, I was simply hoping to borrow for a short time. No longer than an hour or two.”

The smile returned to Beppi’s face like the sun breaking through clouds.

“Of course, of course, absolutely!” they said. “You’re certain you’re not here to purchase?”

“Pretty sure, yes,” Saigo said. “And, actually, do you think I could stay in your shop while I read? Half a cycle at most. I really just needed a dictionary for a project of mine, a small one.”

“Absolutely, without a doubt!” Beppi said, spreading their arms excitedly. “Feel free! My space is yours and you may peruse as long as you wish! What sort of project, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I’m…trying to translate a poem,” Saigo said, hesitating only briefly. That was hardly suspicious activity, was it? “I don’t suppose you’re fluent in Vraktaan?”

“I’m afraid not, I could never spare the time to learn it,” Beppi said, shaking their head. “I’m quite good with old forms of Kaikan and a bit of Masuuan when it comes to book-repair terms, but that’s the extent of my language expertise. Feel free to make yourself at home while you work.”

“Thank you very much,” Saigo said, bowing. “I won’t take too long.”

“No, no, take all the time you need! I may move around in the background and do some work of my own, but you shouldn’t see much of me.”

“Thank you again,” Saigo said, shifting the books in his arms and moving to the corner closest to the door. A quick glance through the only visible sliver of the window showed an empty street, and anyone looking in would have a hard time seeing past the dust.

He sat down on the most stable stack of books he could find and sorted through what Beppi had picked out for him. After discarding a fusion cookbook and two written entirely in Vraktaan, he was left with three options:

The Szavak Könyve, which looked to be a compilation of common phrases as well as some light history on the culture and the origin of certain expressions; Beginning Vraktaan, which taught basic words and phraseology and had a multi-step program for early learners; and the Kaikan-Vraktaan Dictionary, Edition 6 (Revised), which appeared to be exactly what it said it was.

It wasn’t a difficult decision. Setting aside the first two books, Saigo opened his satchel and pulled out his paper and inkpen, along with the folded sheet he’d recorded the poem on.

Flipping open the book, he set to work.

In the blanketed atmosphere of Beppi’s Books, Saigo’s inkpen scratched and scribbled across the paper; marking, crossing out, writing, hesitating, and going at it again. Pages flipped, Beppi hummed somewhere in the depths of the shop, and Saigo muttered to himself as he teased words from one form into another.

Twenty minutes…forty minutes…sixty…

…after eighty minutes, Saigo set down his inkpen and stared down at the fruit of his efforts.

Born/created? in wealth gold death Red

Vessel of (damp) mold battle/war ashes? remnants

Grow (flourish? sprout?) inside birth/creation leaf dirt

Metal in soul heart (life water) dirt??

It/they life inside old/near-death edge-blade fire

Thick air/sky in(side) many crowd of meadow-family (trees?)

Sleep inside inside and die (sleep??) outside

Wake/live again (cycle/new?) insi loud trust/certainty

Saigo lowered the page. At the same time, Beppi poked their head around a tower of books.

“How goes your progress, my friend?” they asked. “You’ve been at it for a while now. Would you like a drink of water? Milk? Fizz? Something like that? I was thinking of having a bit of lunch myself.”

“Oh, no, I’m fine,” Saigo said, still staring at the mangled corpse of a translation. “Thank you for the offer, though.”

“What seems to be the matter?” Beppi asked, concern wrinkling their brow. “You have the look of a lepine with a broken leg on race day.”

“Oh, I think I’m a little better off than that,” Saigo sighed, folding up his papers. “I’m just realizing I have no business trying to translate Vraktaan.”

“I’m sorry to hear it’s gone poorly,” Beppi said. “Were the books at least some help?”

“The books were fine, very good, really,” Saigo said hastily. “I just think it was a bad matchup. The…poem is quite an old one, so maybe modern Vraktaan wasn’t the right call. Some of it felt a tiny bit familiar, but I don’t even know what word has which meaning based on spelling or context or anything like that.”

“I see. That’s a difficult corner to work your way out of,” Beppi said, nodding sympathetically. “I realize I never asked, but are you perhaps a member of the Scholarium yourself? I had a suspicion, but I didn’t see an armband…?”

“No, I’m not, though I’d like to be,” Saigo said, half-grinning and pushing back his hair. He could never get around to cutting it properly, but he’d have to go at it with a knife again sometime soon. “This is more of a personal project, given to me by a friend. I’ve mostly got to figure it out on my own, but…you can see how it’s going.”

He gestured vaguely at the open book in front of him.

“I don’t know that I can do it properly without the help of someone who actually knows the language,” he finished. “Thank you again for letting me borrow the books and rest in your shop, though.”

He hefted the stack and handed the books back to Beppi. The shopkeeper accepted them, thoughtfulness still weighing on their face.

“I’m sorry you haven’t had any luck, Honto-ell, and I wish I had a better book to provide you with,” they said. “Have you tried anywhere else in town? Wait, before that, a more significant question: do you live here? I’m afraid I don’t get out all that much, and if we’ve met before I must sincerely apologize—”

“No, no, I’m just passing through, I’m not familiar with the town at all,” Saigo laughed. “Do you happen to know anywhere where I could get help with this kind of thing?”

“Well…” Beppi hesitated, drumming their fingers on the books. “Have you tried…I’m quite sure there is a shrine of the Sky in town, off the main road. In the…south, I believe? The southern part of town, yes, I do believe that’s where it is. Yes! The memory grove isn’t far beyond it.”

“A Wisdom shrine?” Saigo said, his ears perking. “That sounds like a good next stop. I don’t suppose there’s any libraries in town too?”

“Not in a small place like this, I’m afraid,” Beppi chuckled. “Mine is the only place that deals much with our page-filled friends, though the shrine has a small collection of its own. I’ve done repairs for them on occasion. Wonderful people.”

“Yes, good people,” Saigo agreed, remembering a certain rough lutrine who had given him a ride across Mersha’s Pond. “I won’t take up any more of your time, but thank you very much for the books and the guidance. Have a good day!”

“You as well, Honto-ell, you as well,” Beppi said, bowing deeply. “Safe travels, and stop by again sometime!”

“I’ll certainly try to.”

Chapter Text

Slumber 53, A.R. 372

Saigo took a deep breath of clear, icy air, shaking himself a little. He loved bookstores, he really did, but too long in the dust and gloom and he could feel himself shriveling.

He walked down the street, leaving Beppi’s Books behind him and aiming for the southern part of town’s rumored Sky shrine. Maybe he’d find some good luck there.

He hadn’t been to a shrine in quite a while, had he? He’d seen a couple when he’d been on the road with Tsuki, and he’d visited far more towns and cities in the past couple weeks than he usually did, but he’d never exactly made time to stop at one. Even something as small as swapping tokens…

Had he visited a shrine at all since he’d first awoken in front of one?

“Oh, you’re out of there! Did you get what you needed?”

Saigo checked over his shoulder to make sure there was no one within easy listening distance.

“Not quite,” he muttered. “The translation fell apart. I don’t suppose you’re fluent in Vraktaan?”

“Nope, don’t have a clue. Sorry for leaving so quick, I had to check in on something. Besides, we both know I’m not much use in places like that. Your territory, not mine.”

“Sure, sure. When is the last time you read a book?”

“Shatter if I know. Years, probably.”

Saigo’s whiskers twitched with the effort of stopping himself from asking if that was due to an absence of interest or an excess of being dead.

“Where are you headed now?”

“The shopkeep—Beppi, nice mei, really likes books—they recommended I try out the Wisdom shrine in town. Said it would be the next best place to try if I want help translating the poem.”

“Sounds like a plan. It’s been a while since you’ve been to a shrine, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah, well, I doubt you’re exchanging tokens on a regular basis. Unless that’s where you’re going all the time…?”

“Uh…no. Not really. Not much point, given…no, never mind. I mean, it’s not like I can go off on my own anyways, right? Let’s leave it there.”

“…If you say so,” Saigo said. “I meant to ask: how are things with the sword? Is Tsuki still there?”

“Let me check. I haven’t felt anyone touch it, but it can’t hurt.”

The slight weight in the back of Saigo’s mind lifted as Hadvo departed. He kept walking, looking for the symbol of the Sky: a cloud, sprinkled with four-pointed stars.

Beppi had said ‘south,’ and Saigo was pretty sure he was walking the right direction—yes, there was the street he’d come from and…

…there was the Vigil tower, coming up on his left, flag limp, its gate flanked by a dark-skinned human and a white-furred bovid.

Ten weeks of high-velocity spells aimed at Saigo’s head by people in white tabards made a convincing argument about why he should be moving in the exact opposite direction. A couple tins of makeup applied a couple hours ago made a pointed counterargument about blending in and not running unless someone chased him first.

Saigo’s pace stuttered as instincts clashed, and then he continued walking, trying to look as if he were nothing more than a normal citizen out on an errand. He didn’t look at them—wait, no, would it be more natural to glance at them? Nod? Say hello? Shards, he’d never done this before while disguised—!

“Excuse me! You, the feline in the sweater!”

Saigo twitched and reflexively turned in the direction of the shout. He hadn’t wanted to test his disguise at the highest level, but if he’d heard that right—yes, wonderful, perfect, of course it was the Vigil.

The human beckoned at him impatiently, wearing an agitated look.

Approximately half-a-dozen conflicting impulses, ranging from ‘run for your life!’ ‘freeze,’ and ‘pretend you didn’t hear them?!’ all exploded through Saigo’s head, promptly tripping over each other in the doorway to the control room and leading him to instead walk straight up to the Vigil.

“Yeah?” he asked.

The scattered remnants of his practical mind bit down on a metaphorical fist. Yeah? The Vigil called him over and he said yeah?!

“What’s your name, jit?” the human said, looking him up and down.

“Honto,” Saigo said, while the rest of him grimaced at how she’d addressed him. Really? Jit? Sure, she was a Vigil, but that was awfully familiar. “Honto Gimei. Uh…is there something I can help with?”

“Yeah, actually,” the human said, exchanging a glance with her bovid colleague. “We’ve got a question for you. Answer us this:”

Saigo tensed, ready to flee.

“Who has a better sense of smell, ursines or lupines?” the Vigil asked seriously. “We’re trying to settle a bet.”

Saigo blinked.

“Um, I’m—I’m honestly not sure,” he stuttered. “I think, uh, lupines? Wait, no, I’m sorry. When you say ‘better sense of smell,’ what do you mean, exactly?”

The two Vigil exchanged a glance.

“What do you mean?” the bovid asked, scratching his elbow. “Smell’s smell. You’ve either got a good sense of it or not.”

“No, I’m not sure of that,” Saigo said, shaking his head. “There’s different kinds of scent proficiency, aren’t there? Like tracking, which is pretty different from, um…shards, I swear there’s a word for it. Precision scent? You know? Being able to sift through the layers of smell over time in a specific place or on a person? Some…some people are, uh…better at one than the other. I think.”

Saigo wilted slightly under the stares of the Vigil. Shards, he’d really stepped in it now, hadn’t he? Couldn’t just give a straight answer, he had to dive into the question itself. Any second now they’d realize—

“Well that sets us back,” the bovid said, turning to the human. “Different kinds of smelling, shard me. Did you know about this? Why didn’t anyone tell us? Why didn’t Naku tell us?”

“Naku never tells us shit, you know that! But precision scent, that’s got to be lupines. I heard about a Silver Thread who could smell people’s brains.”

“That’s ridiculous. That’s got to be an anchor, if it’s a thing at all.”

It became clear to Saigo that the Vigil had completely forgotten about him. Doing his best not to run, he sidled away, only letting out a sigh of relief when he was a good forty paces away.

He really had to thank Tsuki for the disguise.

A familiar weight settled back in his mind.

“Hey! Things look good, sword hasn’t moved. I didn’t see Tsuki anywhere, though.”

Saigo’s ears flicked. She’d told him she’d be staying at the shed, hadn’t she? Honestly, she might still be and Hadvo simply hadn’t seen her, what with her…well, she claimed it wasn’t invisibility, but what else could it be?

At least the sword was still safe. He’d seen her glancing at it once or twice over the last couple days, but she appeared more wary of it than interested, which worked out fine for Saigo.

“Your disguise seems to be working pretty well. Probably best not to push it either way, though—no sense in giving the Vigil any opportunities to see through it.”

Saigo gave a strangled laugh.

“Believe me, I’m doing my best,” he whispered. “That aside, could you help me keep a lookout for the Sky shrine? I’m pretty sure this is the south side of town but I haven’t seen it yet.”

“Yeah, I can do that. Isn’t that it over there?”

“Over where?” Saigo asked, scanning the street ahead.

“On your right, up ahead.”

Saigo spotted it a moment later—an elegant wood-and-brick building, accented with thin, twisting pillars and set apart in its own small plot of land. Nailed above the doorframe, a metal cloud sprinkled with four-pointed stars marked it as a shrine to Yun the Wisdom.

“What is it with you always seeing things before me?” Saigo asked, speeding up.

“First and foremost, I’m using both my eyes.”

“Okay, sure, what’re your other points?”

“Shards if I know. I suppose it’s just the wisdom that comes from experience.”

“Experience and wisdom? Oh, I don’t think we’re talking about the same person anymore.”

“Excuse you. I’m plenty wise. I may not have my nose in books every chance I get, but you certainly don’t see me picking fights with Seekers and breaking into the Harbor.”

“Hmm…well, I guess you’re right.”

“What? Really?”

“Yeah, I can’t see you picking fights. Because I can’t see you at all!”

“…uuuuGGHH COME ON. All right, you—”

An invisible arm grabbed Saigo around the neck and a hand smushed his face, mussing up his hair.

“Hey! Not in public!” Saigo half-hissed, half-snorted, pushing away the invisible hands as discreetly as possible. They dissipated, and he straightened up, tying his hair back where it had gotten loose.

“Sorry. Got carried away.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Saigo said breathlessly, glancing around to check that no one had noticed his brief spasm. He straightened his vest, bounced on his paws for a second, and then marched through the gateway and up to the doors of the shrine.

He raised a hand to knock just as the door slid open, leaving Saigo’s fist hovering inches away from a bearded human face.

“Oh, pardon me,” Saigo said, quickly lowering his hand. “I was just about to knock.”

“Aye? My apologies, I was just heading out,” the human said, waggling the broad-brimmed hat in his hand. “Rong Hoko, at your service. I’m one of the priests here. Was there somethin’ I could help ye with?”

“Oh, no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Saigo said. “I’m Honto, Honto Gimei. Is there anyone else in the shrine, or…I don’t want to hold you up—”

“Nay, nay, it’s quite all right,” Rong said kindly, sliding the door open wider and hanging his hat on a hook in the entryway. “Come on in, friend. I can stay a bit longer, but not too long. Other duties call, as ye know.”

“Of course, of course,” Saigo said, wiping his paws on the mat and stepping inside. “Is it just you here, Rong-mell?”

“At the moment, yes, though there oughta be a couple of acolytes coming by to use the library in about an hour,” Rong said, shrugging off his coat and hanging it up. Saigo caught a glimpse of complex, winding tattoos on the human’s forearms before his sleeves slid back down. “They’ll let themselves in.”

“I understand. I’m truly sorry to bother you, but I had a small task I’d like some help with,” Saigo said.

“I’ll do what I can for ye,” Rong said amiably. “Are ye fine talking in the consultation room? Or would ye prefer the shrine proper?”

“Consultation room is fine,” Saigo said, following him.

“Are ye a follower of Wisdom?” Rong asked as they entered a small room off to the side of the main hallway. The back wall was one large bookshelf, almost full, with the rest of the space taken up by a square sitting table in the center of the room.

“I lean more towards Sul, but I’ve always admired Yun’s tenets of knowledge-seeking,” Saigo said, sitting down on the mat presented to him.

Rong sat down across from him, scratching his narrow beard, which sat on an already thin face. He was thoroughly weather-roughed, but sounded younger than he looked and smelled.

“Aye, there’s a few who come by who pay homage to Unity as well as Wisdom,” Rong said, nodding. “I assume ye came here for a question that might not be as easily answered by a Moon priest, though?”

“That would be the case, yes,” Saigo said. “I came from the bookstore up the street, where I was working on a…a project of mine. It may seem an odd question, but do you know anyone who speaks Vraktaan?”

“Do ye have something that needs translating?” Rong asked, raising his eyebrows. “Communication with someone else, mebbe?”

“The first,” Saigo said, pulling out the folded copy of the poem. “It’s a poem of sorts, and I tried to translate it on my own, but even a dictionary didn’t help me all that much. Are there any priests or acolytes or even attendees native to Vrakta?”

“A couple, but they’re out and busy and most likely won’t be in until our service next Yunda,” Rong said, nodding for Saigo to put the paper on the shin-high table between them. “Would ye like me to translate? I’m told I have a terrible accent, but I spent quite a few years in Vrakta at one point.”

“Oh, you speak it?” Saigo said, unfolding the page and turning it to face the priest. “That would be wonderful, actually. You’re fluent?”

“I can hold a conversation fairly easy, aye,” Rong said, picking it up. “Did some studies on the language itself while I was up there…hm.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Nothing wrong, no…ye said ye tried to translate this using a dictionary?” Rong said, running a finger slowly along the words on the page.

“Yes…? Was that…a mistake?”

“I wouldn’t call it that,” Rong said, glancing up and giving Saigo a brief smile. “This is an older form of Vraktaan, this. A unique dialect, too, quite different from what the language has become since Yulz split. I’d guess it was written shortly after the Shatter, probably within a couple decades.”

A shiver ran up Saigo’s spine. That sounded promising.

“You can read it, right?” he asked.

“Should be able to give ye a proper translation, aye,” Rong said. He slid out a drawer from the side of the table, pulling out a few sheets of paper and an inkpen. He hesitated just before putting pen to paper and looked up at Saigo.

“If it’s all right by ye, I may use a charm to help me along,” he said. “Would ye be at all opposed?”

“What? Oh, no, not at all, go right ahead,” Saigo said. “If it helps with the translation, I’m all for it.”

“Thank ye kindly,” Rong murmured, digging into one of his pockets and pulling something small and round out.

Saigo got one clear glimpse of the object just before Rong closed his hand around it: a small, smooth stone, an image of a star-sprinkled cloud painted on it in blue ink. A personal token, most likely, not one for leave-and-take.

Rong took a long, slow breath, then touched the fist holding the token to his right forearm, then to his stomach, then to his forehead.

“All kin walk under one sky, clear and clouded alike,” he murmured. “All voices speak into one wind, whispered and shouted alike. All sight is yours, be it fore, over, in, or far. All the Sky is Yun, and all that is Yun is Wise.”

Rong opened his eyes, which glowed softly as he lifted the paper and re-read the poem. The same subtle glow emitted from under the sleeve of his right arm—no doubt where the relevant charm was tattooed.

Saigo resisted the urge to crane his neck and try to see the shape of the charm under Rong’s sleeve. Like shrines, he hadn’t seen much of them in the time since his memories started. He didn’t really need a charm for anything, but shard him if the magic wasn’t interesting—it was probably the closest anyone could come to being a Warden, given its Celestial origin.

 He scratched at an itch on his hip as Rong picked up his inkpen and began to write, his other hand still holding the poem. For a few minutes, there was no sound beyond the scratch of pen on paper and the occasional mumble from Rong.

Finally, just when Saigo was beginning to shift restlessly on his mat, Rong set the inkpen on the table with a final-sounding clak.

“That should do it,” he said, blowing on the ink. “Very interestin’ poem, this. Many thanks for lettin’ me take a crack at it.”

“What’s it say?” Saigo asked eagerly, leaning forward and trying to read it upside-down.

“See for yerself, ell,” Rong said, swiveling the paper around to face Saigo. “Rhyme and meter and meanin’ are all a bit off in Kaikan, bein’ written for its native dialect, but I think I got the most important bits down, with no small thanks to the Sky. Can’t say I understand what it’s gettin’ at, but there ye are.”

Saigo reverently picked up the paper, filled with Rong’s spidery writing.

Born in death of red and gold

In war standing, a mold of ash

Grown in birth of leaves and soil

Iron in the heart, blood in the stone

Living in the age of fire and blade

Silent cloud in a crowded glade

Sleeping inside and dead without

Wake up again in yell of honor

“That look like what ye were hoping for?” Rong asked.

Saigo looked up from reading it through a second time.

“It’s much better than my initial attempt, that’s for sure,” he said, part of his brain already picking through the different lines. “Thank you for your help, it’s just what I needed.”

“Happy to oblige. Where’d ye find it?”

“Oh, a…friend gave it to me,” Saigo said, reversing direction at the speed of deception. “They found it in an old book. Of poems. Neither of us speak Vraktaan, though, so…”

“Fascinatin’ stuff,” Rong said, nodding agreeably. “Was there anything else I could help ye with?”

“No, no, that was everything,” Saigo said, standing up. “Thank you again for your help, I know you have to get going.”

“Much appreciated,” Rong said, also rising. “Will ye be in town long?”

“No, I…how did you know I was traveling?”

“Don’t recognize ye, and ye had the manner of someone in somethin’ of a rush,” Rong said, with a flicker of a grin. “Small town, this. Makes it easy to tell who’s new. Hope ye found what ye were looking for here.”

“I…yes, I did,” Saigo said, glancing again at the poem in his hands. “I really do appreciate your help. This would have proven frustrating for quite a while, I think, and it’s about time for me to keep moving. I may try to visit again, though. It’s a nice town.”

“I look forward to it.”

They left the office, Rong pulling on his coat as they stepped out of the shrine and into the brisk slumber air. The priest closed the gate behind them, then turned to Saigo.

“Sky give you a fair wind, ell,” he said, bowing.

“Moon brighten your nights, Rong-mell,” Saigo said, bowing in return.

They parted ways.

Saigo retraced his steps along Rotu Way, passing the Vigil tower on his way to the street he’d come by. The human and bovid Vigil were currently standing in huffy silence, not looking at each other.

Saigo continued down the side street all the way to the alleyway, turning the blind corner and finding again the water-warped door set into a half-hidden shed. How Tsuki had managed to sniff it out so fast in the first place he really couldn’t say.

He paused just in front of the door, already gripping the handle. According to Hadvo’s brief reconnaissance, she’d been absent when he checked on the sword. What had she been getting up to in the meantime, exactly?

He shook his head and pushed open the door. Maybe he should ask her—or maybe not, given her history of terse responses in the face of questions. Shards, she might not have even left the shed, what with her…not-invisibility disappearing act—

He caught a flash of movement.

Oh sha—

Chapter Text

Slumber 53, A.R. 372

Saigo had just enough wherewithal to duck as something blurred in the air. An empty bucket streaked over his head and shattered against the stone wall outside, splinters of wood stinging the back of his neck.

“It’s me!” he blurted, throwing his hands up in front of his face.

Nothing happened for a moment.

Saigo opened his eye and saw Tsuki crouched and frozen only a few feet away, arms wide and claws outstretched.

Saigo carefully eased the door shut behind him, keeping his eye on Tsuki.

“Sorry. Probably should have knocked,” he said, trying not to make any sudden movements.

“Maybe so, but her first instinct probably shouldn’t be to throw buckets at people’s heads when someone opens a door.”

“…I didn’t recognize you for a second,” Tsuki said, relaxing her stance and straightening up.

“Yeah, the disguise is exceptionally convincing, I have to say,” Saigo said, seizing the opportunity to move the conversation elsewhere. “I actually got caught up talking to some Vigil and they had no idea who I was. Granted, they were trying to settle a bet about senses of smell, but that’s the first time I’ve talked to one on the street and not been attacked in…well, before I can remember. It’s really well done.”

“Wait, you talked to some Vigil? Where was I for this?”

Tsuki nodded slowly at Saigo, then moved to sit down against one wall of the shed.

“…Thanks, I guess?” she said. “You got back…sooner than I expected. I thought you’d be out there all day. Translating isn’t easy work, I know that.”

“Yeah, I found out the hard way,” Saigo said dryly, walking over to his own corner of the shed and starting to unpack his satchel. “Do you know any other languages?”

“I know a couple words and phrases in everything, but I’m not fluent in anything, if that’s what you’re asking. You?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” Saigo said, folding up his failed translation notes and shoving them to the bottom of his pack. “Did you get up to anything interesting while I was gone?”

“What am I, a pet whellum?” Tsuki snorted. “No, I didn’t ‘get up to’ anything, and even if I did it wouldn’t be anything you needed to know about.”

Saigo gave her a sidelong glance out of the corner of his eye. Truth or lie? He couldn’t be sure, and they did have very different ideas about the meaning and application of ‘interesting’ and ‘need…’

“Call me suspicious, but I’m starting to think she really wasn’t here when I checked on the sword.”

“Fair enough,” Saigo said aloud, flicking an ear at Hadvo at the same time. “I didn’t know if you had…errands to run or something while I was gone.”

“Any particular reason you want to know?” Tsuki asked, a hint of testiness riding the edge of her voice.

“No, not really, just…curious,” Saigo said.

That was true, aside from the ‘just’ part—if he really wanted to dig into the specifics, he wouldn’t have to shovel long before chipping himself on hard stones of unease and impatience, buried alongside a twisted root of frustration.

“Yeah, I thought you’d say that,” Tsuki sighed, some of the chilliness in her tone thawing. “What did you do? Did you get the tablet-thing translated? Figure out where to go?”

“Mmm…sort of? I started out by finding a bookstore and trying to translate the poem myself, which failed spectacularly,” Saigo said, sitting down with his satchel. “After that, I found my way over to the Sky shrine they have here in town and talked to a priest, who helped me translate it properly.”

“And? Are we going to break into another government building or what?” Tsuki asked impatiently.

“Oh, you had better not.”

“I think I would honestly rather dredge the bottom of the Olind Sea than have a repeat of the Harbor,” Saigo said flatly. “To tell you the truth, I really don’t know what w—what I’ll be looking for next. I haven’t been able to give the poem much thought.”

“Well don’t just sit there, read it already, will you?”

“I am, I am, but…I thought you didn’t really care about this?” Saigo said, raising his eyebrows at her. He winced, his scar flaring with the motion.

“Oh, just read it already,” Tsuki said, rolling her eyes. “I’m bored out of my skull here, so the alternative is you help me with some sparring practice. Celestials know you could learn to defend yourself properly.”

“I’m reading it, I’m reading it!” Saigo said quickly, fumbling with the translation. He cleared his throat.

“‘Born in death of red and gold…’”

Tsuki listened in silence as the poem unfolded in the dusty air of the cramped shed. Eventually, the last word faded away, leaving behind a moment of thoughtful silence.

“…Okay, I’m stumped,” Tsuki eventually said, stretching her paws out in front of her. “What the shatter is it talking about?”

“I’m…not really sure,” Saigo said, looking over the poem again. “These first two lines, ‘death of red and gold’ and ‘in war standing…’ No, maybe ‘standing in war?’ That makes me think it’s talking about a specific time period.”

“Uh…death of red and gold,” Tsuki said. “Like…blood and money? Sounds like Signets to me.”

“Could be. Also could be talking about the Saisho and their fall…no, that wouldn’t work…” He snapped his fingers. “Death of red and gold, that’s the thing. What’s red and gold?”

“I mean…descent?” Tsuki guessed. “You’ve got all the trees, right?”

Saigo tilted his head.

“Hey now…that’s a solid idea,” he said. “The ‘death of red and gold’ could mean…the end of descent. Born…oh, born at the end of descent! Yes, that might make sense.”

“Sounds like a history mystery to me. Hey, that was a pretty good rhyme.”

Something clicked in Saigo’s head, and he bent over the paper again.

“Born…” he muttered to himself. “Standing in war…mold of ash…mold and ash? A time of war, maybe? Grown…oho. Aha! ‘Iron…blood in the stone!’ That’s it?”

“What is?” Tsuki demanded.

Saigo prodded the line on the page. “‘Blood in the stone!’ The Stoneblood!” he said triumphantly. “The Warden of Earth!”

“Uh-huh,” Tsuki said, apparently unimpressed with Saigo’s revelation. “And?”

“No, I think that’s who it’s talking about!” Saigo said. “The Stoneblood was born in late descent, during the slumber transition! He lived during wartime, ‘mold of ash’…I don’t know what that means, but he was…born somewhere full of leaves and soil, a forest maybe, I think that’s what the third line is talking about, and the fourth line says the rest! ‘Iron in the heart, blood in the stone!’ Iron-hearted, stone-blooded, you know, common legends about his bravery and strength. It’s a poem about the Stoneblood!”

“That was easier than I expected.”

“Yeah, great, that’s great, history lesson or whatever,” Tsuki said, flapping a hand dismissively. “Now what does it say to actually do?”

“We’re getting there,” Saigo said, bending over the poem again. “We’ve got the first half just about figured out. Fifth line…I think that just reaffirms his life as part of the Fourfront and the Insurgence. This sixth line, though…’silent cloud in a crowded glade.’ That could be a location.”

“Great, let me just pull out my comprehensive list of glades and find the one that matches that description. What does that mean, ‘silent cloud?’ It’s not like clouds make any noise in the first place.”

“I don’t know, I think thunderstorms can be quite noisy,” Saigo said. “It’s probably not a Thoughtgale, though…the Stoneblood…first the Starseer, now the Stoneblood. The drawing led to the Harbor, ghost led to the tablet, tablet leads to Stoneblood. So where…”

He scratched at his left shoulder, trying to think. Stoneblood, Stoneblood…what was important—no, where was important? He’d seen something recently, hadn’t he?

The answer fell into his head like a loose pinecone.

“The Krovkin,” he said.

“The who?”

“The what-now?” Tsuki asked at the exact same time.

Saigo scratched his shoulder again, rolling the word around his mouth again.

“The Krovkin,” he repeated. “I—I saw something about them back at the Four Paths monument. Oh. Oh! This is—oh, this is really interesting, actually. You know how the Shatter wiped out a lot of people? Destroyed their memories and personalities and that sort of thing?”

“…Yeah?” Tsuki said, squinting at him. “The Broken or something. Why are you asking?”

“Right, yes, the Shattered, because so many people got affected and it caused a lot of problems, especially with recorded history,” Saigo said excitedly, getting up and pacing the short width of the room. “A lot of lost names, stories and traditions and folklore, all gone. Most of the Fourfront’s origins, too, their early histories are nothing but patchwork, not to mention how the Soulspark sacrificed themself to protect the rest of the Fourfront from the initial impact of the Shatter.”

“Can we skip all this? I did not sign up for a history lesson,” Tsuki said, making a ‘hurry-up’ motion with her hand.

“I hate to agree with her, but I think I have to. I love you, Saigo, but can we bypass the lecture for once?”

“I could, but I’m trying to work through the events myself, okay?” Saigo said, striding over to his pack and digging into one of its side pockets. “Anyways, of the Fourfront, only two of their names survived the Shatter: Enshi Risune-emelle, the Starseer, and the Stoneblood, Krov-emelle, though that's only his family name, I believe his personal name was lost—”

“Point, please.”

“All right, all right, the point is the Krovkin,” Saigo said, pulling out his ragged map of South Kaiko and spreading it out on a handy crate. “The Stoneblood worked hard to heal the shards for several years after the Shatter but never made much headway. Eventually, he disappeared into a forest, settled down, cut off all communication. But the interesting thing is that his descendants still live in that same forest! The Krovkin is what they’re called, this, this secretive ursine community that grew up around where he lived his last years. Where would you find a glade?”

“The woods, duh,” Tsuki said, rolling her eyes and squatting across from Saigo. “Any other obvious questions?”

“Not at the moment,” Saigo said, slowly tracing a finger up and left from the town of Simato. “And you’re absolutely right. The woods—and the place the Krovkin made their home—is right here.”

He jabbed at a spot on the map.

“…Falidgra Forest,” Tsuki read. She looked up at him. “So…you want to go looking for a secret bear town?”

“The Krovkin, yes. I think it’s a solid next step,” Saigo said, putting down the poem alongside the map. “It lines up. The first half of the poem seems to be a pretty explicit reference to the Stoneblood, and then there’s the mention of the ‘crowded glade,’ hence the forest. I’m not sure about everything else, but it might get clearer as we get closer. Plus the language of the poem was an older strain of Vraktaan, and I’m pretty sure I remember reading something about how that was his family tongue.”

“And you think they’ll help you.”

“I sure hope so, if we approach them with the proper respect,” Saigo said. “Maybe they’ll have some insights about this whole thing. Like what glade the poem is talking about, or what ‘yell of honor’ means. They’re sure to have some records about the Stoneblood, being his descendants and all.”

“I’ve got to be honest, Saigo, this sounds like a recipe for disaster and you’re headed straight for the kitchen.”

Tsuki stood up and folded her arms.

“So let me get this straight,” she said. “We’re three days out from causing a huge mess at the Harbor, and you want to go looking for a hidden community of ursines in the middle of the forest, with your only direction being a three-hundred-and-sixty-year-old poem, which you only know half the meaning of maybe.”

Saigo sucked some air in between his teeth.

“I mean, when you say it like that, it sounds—”

“—perfect!”

“—pretty ba—what?”

“When you started talking about the Shatter I was worried this clue was going to take us to a library or something. But a secret ursine town?” Tsuki clapped her hands and rubbed them together, a wicked grin spreading on her face. “That’s more like it. Come on, let’s get a move on, no sense sitting around.”

“Woah, woah, hold on,” Saigo said, waving his hands as she strode over to her corner of the shed. “You want to head out right now? I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“What? Why not?” Tsuki demanded, swinging her bag over her shoulder. “We’ve already got a destination. You scared or something?”

“Yes. Very,” Saigo said. “Seriously, I would rather not have a repeat of the Harbor.”

“You mean busting in within an hour of arriving at the city and finding your clues barely half an hour after that, and getting out without a scratch?” Tsuki said. “Yeah, that sounds terrible.”

“I seem to remember experiencing multiple scratches,” Saigo said flatly. “I want to go in with a real plan this time. A hidden town with strong ties to one of the Fourfront maybe isn’t as high profile as the Harbor, but I’d rather not continue adding to my list of enemies.”

“Please,” Tsuki snorted. “If I take you at your word, you’ve had the Commander of the Vigil after you for almost two seasons now, before the Harbor. I don’t see how a bunch of bears could cause you more trouble than that.”

“That’s because trouble is cumulative, not subjective!” Saigo said, wincing at the sudden throbbing in his head.

“I don’t know what you just said to me, but seriously, what more do you want?” Tsuki demanded. “You know where to go, these Korv-thingies might help you out, and thanks to me you don’t even look like you! I don’t see a ‘plan’ giving you a better deal than that!”

“Isn’t ‘cumulative’ some kind of cloud?”

Saigo sighed, putting his face in his hands and massaging his temples, willing away the ache.

“Okay. All right. Okay,” he said. “Look: translated clue? Great. Not fully understood. Could use some help. Krovkin? Might help. Might. I don’t actually know much about them, much less how receptive they are towards visitors. Having a hidden village in the woods sort of suggests they don’t really want to be bothered, which means barging in and demanding answers about their famous ancestor might be…?”

He left the conclusion hanging in the air and looked at Tsuki expectantly.

“…fun,” she said.

“…a bad idea,” Saigo said, frowning at her. “Come on, I’m not asking for much. I just don’t want to go rushing in. Even better, I don’t want to go rushing out. Leaving somewhere important without running for my life? That would be novel.”

“I didn’t see you sprinting away from the Harbor.”

“You made me sprint to the Harbor, so it still falls in the same category. Spending half a cycle trying to find a way out of those ruins wasn’t much better than being chased, mind.”

“Ano’s light you’re picky.”

“I am not picky. I simply want to go somewhere and do something of reasonable importance without getting into a fight or being chased or getting tossed in a cell or whatever else!”

“And I’m expected to believe everything you just said is you not being picky.”

“Yes! It’s perfectly reasonable! Normal people almost never have to worry about even one of those things happening to them!”

“I don’t know, Saigo, given your history of going places, she might actually have a point. It’s true that at least one of those things happens every time we stop somewhere new.”

Saigo resisted the urge to protest, keenly aware arguing with the voice in his head would be counterproductive in keeping the tentative trust between him and Tsuki intact.

“Pickiness aside, I think it’s entirely possible for us to approach the Krovkin in a non-disruptive manner and have a civil conversation with them about a translated poem,” he said. “If they don’t want to help us, no problem. We can figure out something else. Can we agree on that?”

Tsuki scrunched her muzzle sourly at him.

“Uuugggghh…fine,” she sighed, letting her bag drop. “I guess we can do this your way, but if things get dull don’t expect me to stick around for the history lesson.”

“Oh, come on, you might learn something,” Saigo said, a half-smile pulling at his face. “Believe me, though, just finding the Krovkin is sure to be interesting.”

“It better be,” Tsuki said, sitting down heavily on the ground. “So what do you need to do before we leave for the Fel—Fald—Felg—”

“Falidgra Forest?”

“I was getting there. But yeah, do you need to get more food or something?”

Saigo scratched his whiskers thoughtfully, looking over at his pack.

“Well…no, actually, I’m well stocked at the moment,” he said. “I don’t think there’s much else to prepare. We can probably leave whenever.”

“What? What was all that about not leaving right away, then?”

“I just didn’t want you rushing off thinking this would be another Harbor situation!”

“Well then why not just bring it up on the road?! It’s three day’s travel!”

“I didn’t want to spend the whole journey convincing you to do it my way! This way we’re both on the same page before we get on the road!”

“Oh yeah. This plan is looking great.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Slumber 55, A.R. 372

“Mell?”

Chief Washi Taga of the Seeker Division lowered his cup and looked over at Hanta Koro of Seeker Team C-39. The young human—only in his mid-twenties, but already a fine captain—wore a determined expression just below a stern crew cut and just above a slight frown of serious-minded curiosity.

“Hmh? Yeah?” Taga grunted, wiping his mouth. “Something on your mind?”

“I know you never do anything without good reason, Chief-mell,” Koro said in a low voice. “I’m especially grateful you allowed us to accompany you for the continuation of this case in spite of our earlier failure. I did want to clarify, however: what exactly are we doing here?”

“Not a fan of the clientele?” Taga asked, taking another swig of his drink. It was a bit weak for buzz, with a sour aftertaste he couldn’t quite place and didn’t care for. The same went for the occupants of the bar around himself and team C-39. What had the sign outside said…?

Right. The Roaring Bear, that was it. A bit grungy, but it seemed fairly tame compared to places he’d frequented when he’d been younger. Quite a lot younger…

“It’s not that, mell,” Koro said, casting a sharp glance around the bar, which all of the patrons carefully avoided. Over the captain’s shoulder, Taga could see the ursine barkeep eyeing their table.

“Oh? Then what might your concern be, Captain?”

“Not a concern, Chief-mell,” Koro said, slapping the back of Ato’s hand when it reached for the cup in front of him. “I can only assume you’ve discovered a correlation between this…place and the feline, and I’m eager to learn more about what my team and I may have missed.”

“Eloquently put, Captain,” Taga said, downing the rest of his buzz. “Displays a mindset focused on the task and an eagerness to pursue a target, important qualities in a Hunter. I can reassure you that we’re not here to waste time. How long were you here in Daitan before you pursued the feline to the Hand?”

“Not long. Four hours at most, one of which was spent finding a boat able to take us across the Pond with reasonable speed,” Koro said. “We left as soon as we had a solid lead.”

“That’s a good instinct, Captain. Give chase promptly and you’ll catch up to them in no time. I snatched a good number of Breakers the same way,” Taga said, nodding. He tapped his fingers on the sticky table. “However, there’s other ways to catch up with a slippery mark like our tom.”

“Understood, Chief-mell. How would one go about that?” Koro asked, producing a notebook and an inkpen with alarming speed.

Taga glanced at the writing implements and couldn’t help but grin, remembering the captain’s similar keenness in the Harbor.

“Well, we already know that chasing our tom step-for-step won’t be effective, seeing how his trail’s died out,” he said. “Now, Captain—and you two, listen careful, this’ll serve you well—what’s better than being right on the tail of a mark?”

“Capturing them before they have an opportunity to strike again?” Koro said, inkpen poised.

“Often good, not quite the answer I was looking for,” Taga said.

“Um…?”

Taga looked over at the younger of the two Hantas: Led, round and worried, a sharp contrast to Koro’s angular sternness. The young human was clutching at his half-full water like it was his only lifeline.

“Yes, Hanta? You have a thought?” he asked.

“…Being ahead of them?” Led offered tentatively.

Taga nodded slowly, giving the young human a careful once-over.

“You’re a Defuser, right, jit?” he said.

Led nodded, sinking deeper into his chair, his face going red.

“Uh, yes Chief-mell,” he said, looking down at the table. “Very happy working on team C-39. Mell. Sorry mell.”

“No, no jit, you’ve got no reason to apologize!” Taga laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “As a matter of fact, you’re exactly right. Being ahead of the mark. Not just knowing where they are but knowing where they’re going.”

“So we’re here to gather information about the feline’s motivations?” Koro asked, his inkpen scribbling frantically in his notebook. “If it’s not presumptuous, how did you discover this place had a connection to the case?”

“Well, Captain, I did get here a little while ahead of your team and decided to do some poking around on my own,” Taga said, glancing at the ursine behind the bar again. “I’ve got a couple friends in the Peacekeepers here, and they were kind enough to lend me a couple recent disturbance reports.”

Koro stopped writing abruptly.

“The feline stopped here?” he asked, lowering his voice.

“Briefly,” Taga said. “He didn’t stick around long. The report didn’t mention much on its own—just said there’d been a disturbance involving a black-furred feline. No one else had anything to say about it, apparently.”

“Did he have an associate here, perhaps? Wherever he’s gone, he’s left a mess in his wake, but all that was said was that there was a ‘disturbance?’ That seems suspect.”

“That’s what we’re here to find out, Captain,” Taga said patiently. “Now keep your eyes open and leave the talking to me, all right? We’re about to get some answers.”

A shadow loomed over the table, and Taga looked up into the blank eyes of the ursine barkeep.

“Good afternoon, keeper,” Taga said brightly. “Something we can help you with?”

“Yeah. I wanna know what you lot are doin’ in my bar,” the barkeep growled. “I’m pretty shardin’ certain there ain’t no sign outside sayin’ ‘Seekers welcome,’ much less their grands. You’d be best off leavin’ soon.”

“Oh, don’t worry about them, they’re all off-duty at the moment,” Taga said breezily, waving his empty glass at the team and giving them a slight shake of his head when they stiffened at the word ‘grands.’

“This place ain’t for yer kind. Yer makin’ my patrons nervous, off-duty or not,” the barkeep grunted. “Finish yer drinks and leave.”

“Not very friendly to new customers, are you?” Taga said, setting his cup down on the table with a dull clunk. “I’m starting to wonder if that disturbance with the black tom was his fault at all, or if it was your beloved patrons stirring up trouble.”

The ursine didn’t display any outward reaction beyond his hand tightening on Taga’s chair, claws scraping shallow grooves into the wood.

“Mind telling us what you know about the whole situation?” Taga asked lightly, watching the broader room out of the corner of his eye. The noise level—already low—had dropped to near-nonexistence, and quite a few of the other patrons were openly staring at their table.

“Don’t know anything about that,” the ursine said flatly.

Taga’s ears suggested the sound of chairs slowly being pushed back.

“I’m not so sure about that, friend,” Taga said, rolling up his sleeves to display the tattoos printed on his forearms. “And believe me, it’s absolutely in your best interest to be forthcoming.”

The barkeep glanced at the carefully inked runes and boxes and huffed disinterestedly.

“Those supposed to mean somethin’?” he growled.

“Maybe not to you,” Taga said, pushing his chair back and standing up. “Hey, you lot! Stop gaping! Any of you sorry shits want to tell your good friend here what these mean?”

He lifted his arms, displaying the inked spells to the room at large.

“Chief-mell—” Koro muttered, his eyes darting to the few patrons already on their feet.

“Give it a second, jit,” Taga grunted. He raised his voice. “One chance, friends. I know a few of you recognize these. More importantly, by now a few of you should recognize me.”

No one moved for a solid four seconds.

The sound of chairs hitting the floor filled the room, and five, no, seven people stood up—

—and bolted for the door, all trying to cram themselves through at the same time and sticking before they managed to wriggle their way out and take off down the street.

The room fell silent again, and Taga turned around, his eyes falling on one last patron in the far corner, halfway through standing up and regretting his seating arrangement.

“You there,” Taga said quietly. “You’ve got a wise face. Come and tell our barkeep friend what these mean.”

The scrawny lupine looked at Taga’s face, gulped, and shuffled crabwise over to the barkeep, his eyes never leaving Taga and the rest of the team.

The barkeep stared at the lupine, nonplussed, and bent over when he beckoned. Frantic whispering ensued.

The barkeep’s brow creased steadily  as the urgent muttering continued, wrinkling until it looked like a family of caterpillars with separation anxiety.

After approximately a minute, the barkeep straightened up, and the lupine gave Taga one more terrified glance before shuffling out of the door.

“…You lot,” the barkeep said, nodding at the rest of the room. “Get out.”

“But—” one patron protested.

The barkeep took a deep breath.

“GET OUT!”

The roar triggered a minor stampede for the door, leaving no one but the barkeep, Taga, and team C-39, still seated around their table.

The barkeep looked back at Taga, face blank.

“Please don’t destroy my bar, emelle,” he said, his voice trembling ever-so-slightly.

“Mell is fine, and even if you could use some remodeling, I won’t be doing you that service today so long as you remember your manners,” Taga said, sitting down again. “Pull up a chair and tell us all about our mutual friend, the black tom, why don’t you.”

“I really don’t know much at all em—mell, and the rest of my regulars, they ain’t all that bad, mell, really, they just had some tough times back in the day—”

“Yeah. They did,” Taga said. “I was there.”

“Yes mell, that’s what he said. You ain’t gonna—”

“I don’t plan on doing anything but listen at the moment, friend,” Taga said, giving the barkeep a pleasant smile. “Fair warning, though: I don’t stand for embellishments. If I hear anything but the flat truth, I’m afraid I’ll have to listen a little bit harder, on account of trying to understand you through a mouthful of broken teeth.”

The barkeep swallowed.

“Yes mell,” he said hoarsely. “Sorry about my disrespect earlier, I didn’t know it was…you, mell.”

“Funny how often people think they need to know who someone is before they respect them,” Taga grunted. “Might save time to start with respect and move up or down from there. But never mind all that—my team and I will get out of your fur once you’ve told me everything you know about our black tom.”

“Yes mell. He came in and asked for a room about two and a half weeks ago. Had some odd stuff with ‘im, and some of my regulars got a little curious, so after he stepped out, they, um, they…”

“What’d they take?”

The barkeep cleared his throat and leaned forward.

“Are they gonna get in trouble for this, mell?” he whispered urgently. “I advised ‘em not to, but, well—”

“Like I said, friend, I’m just here to listen,” Taga said. The barkeep’s face brightened, then froze when Taga continued. “But…you never know how things can change. It’ll be in your best interest to run a clean bar after this. Maybe pick your…‘regulars’ a little better. I’ll probably pop in at some point to enjoy the atmosphere, whichever way it might be swinging at the time.”

“Right, mell, of course, whatever you say,” the ursine said, licking his nose nervously. “Well, some of ‘em, they, uh…they borrowed this one long bundle the cat was carrying and brought it downstairs, and it turned out to be a…a big sword, in a sheath. And, well…the odd thing about it…”

The barkeep paused, his eyes darting over to the table nearest the stairs.

“…the sword wouldn’t come out,” he said. “No matter how much they pulled, it wouldn’t come outta the sheath. And barely a minute after they started pulling, the cat bursts in out of breath, and walks straight over and…he just touched Oja, and Oja went over like a tree. Then the cat took the sword, went upstairs, grabbed his stuff and left.”

The barkeep shrugged.

“That’s all I know, mell,” he said. “I did ask ‘im if he was a sinker, but he didn’t give me a straight answer.”

“Can’t blame him,” Taga muttered, scratching his stubbly chin. “You sure that’s everything you know?”

“Yes mell. Again, please don’t hold it against ‘em, they’re just mistrustful blots who had bad business sense—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Taga sighed, standing up. “I’ve heard it all before, but I’m not in the mood to stomp beetles when I’ve got an umakak to catch. Any other kin you know who had a rub with the feline?”

The barkeep hesitated.

“One, at least,” Taga said, nodding at Koro to start preparing to leave. “Another regular of yours?”

“How’d you—”

“Not your concern, friend, believe me,” Taga said. “Where’d he chafe?”

“Uh, down at the pier, but they had a bit of a…conflict the next day, out on dock two—”

Taga patted the barkeep on the upper arm, as high as he could reach without having to stretch.

“Say no more,” he said, slapping a copper tracing on the table. “Sorry to interrupt your business. I might visit again sometime.”

The barkeep nodded miserably.

“Yes mell,” he said. “Sorry to bother you, mell.”

“Let it be a lesson, then; don’t run your mouth before you can see where it’s going,” Taga said amiably, walking to the door with team C-39 in tow. “And the next time a team of my Seekers come in for a drink, I hope you’ll start with respect.”

The door slammed shut behind them, and Taga led the way down the street. He glanced to his side to see Koro striding along with him, his brooding expression pairing with his scar to give him a downright sinister appearance.

“You worried about those regulars of his, Captain?” Taga asked.

“…Yes, Chief-mell,” Koro said reluctantly. “The feline’s crimes notwithstanding, it’s clear that he experienced blatant harassment and the theft of his possessions here. Considering we’re in Daitan, those people who left—would they happen to be those once involved in the anti-anchor movement of 342?”

“Very perceptive of you, Captain,” Taga said mildly. “You’re correct. I recognized a few of ‘em. They did their time and were well-behaved enough to stay on the walls of the cages rather than ending up inside ‘em. Now, I’ve got my own ways of handling people like that, but I’m interested to hear what you think ought to be done.”

Koro visibly hesitated, giving serious thought to the question. The seriousness was a given, of course, but it was always a pleasure to see someone having a genuine think. It didn’t happen often enough, in Taga’s opinion.

“…I think it would be best to at least make the local Peacekeepers aware of the situation,” Koro eventually said. “Beyond that, Chief-mell, I would humbly request your advice.”

“That’s a good start, Captain. Like I said earlier, I happen to know a couple officers in the area who I’d trust to get a handle on things,” Taga said, nodding. “If we were staying longer, it’d probably be a different story. That’s one of the tough things about being on a Clear Team—quite a bit of roving and a sense of responsibility will see you pulled in all directions, and it’ll tear you apart to try and solve every problem you come across. Some things you have to leave behind.”

He rubbed his stomach absentmindedly, then looked over at the sound of scribbling to see Koro writing furiously in his notebook. The captain snapped it shut a moment later and looked over at Taga.

“I presume we’re heading down to the docks, Chief-mell?” he said.

“Let’s stick with just ‘Chief’ for now, Captain,” Taga said. “And yes, you’re correct. I already have a couple ideas about where to find those folks our tom had his rubs with, and I’m certain they’ll be eager to share what they know.”

“Understood, Chief-m—Chief. Is there any role you’d prefer myself and my team to play during your investigation?”

“Our investigation, Captain,” Taga said. “The information you and your team gathered in your first pursuit of our tom is invaluable, and I’m not stupid enough to go after a mark of this kind without a competent team backing me up. I might be heading this investigation, but don’t sell your team short—I’m going to need each and every one of your senses on high alert, taking in everything you can and figuring out not where our tom is but where he’s going. Got that, C-39?”

“Yes Chief!” Team C-39 said in unison, in varying flavors of grunt, bark, and quaver.

“Good. Let’s get after it.”

They kept on down the street, the crowd unconsciously parting before them. Taga had only been on the road and in pursuit for a few days now, but already he felt lighter and freer than he could remember in the last four years.

That business in the bar…there had to be a name for people you’d once traded furious blows with but who had sunk and withered into pale imitations of themselves over the course of decades. If there had been a fire there once, now it was cold ash—little chance of reignition, but coating everything it touched with a thin crust of sullen regret.

They hadn’t learned anything, had they? Simply sunk into themselves and carried on thinking the same thoughts as always, but so watered down all they could manage was sniveling cruelty, happy to bully anything they thought of as weak and cringing away from the slightest suggestion of strength.

Thirty years…he’d never received a satisfying answer about where the trouble started, even though he’d been face-first in it right up to the end. He’d helped round up the worst of the bile-rousers, and then there’d been a few articles in the news sheets, and then there’d been…nothing, really. The whole ordeal had simply faded away.

No use scratching old scars. He was out on a different mission right now, and he intended to make the most of it.

“Chief!”

Taga looked up at the sudden alert and saw a familiar golden glow dropping down from above, a few people on the street murmuring and pointing up at it.

Taga automatically held out his hand. The glow dropped straight into his palm and faded, revealing a small bundle of letters tied neatly with red twine.

“Move along!” Koro said briskly to the few members of the crowd still gawking at the delivery. “Official Seeker business.”

“Thank you very much, Captain,” Taga grunted, flipping through the envelopes as they drifted to the edge of the street, out of the way. “Look like updates from home. Let’s see…oh, a letter from Hiku! That reminds me, Schlakiv, I meant to ask after your partner, hear how he’s doing. And…hmm.”

“Something wrong, Chief?”

“Not yet,” Taga said, pulling one of the letters out of its envelope and scanning it. “Just a standardized tantrum from one of the Council’s secretaries. Raising a fuss ‘cause I’ve ‘abandoned my post’ and all that…looks like even that old broom Nebas wants me to step off the case. Hah!”

Taga glanced at Koro and was again gratified to see him thinking deeply, notebook closed. Past the captain and slightly lower down, Led was still staring up at the sky where the letters had flown in from, while behind him the ever-looming Ato stared hard at anyone who walked too close.

“Don’t worry too much about interference from Central, jits, long enough on the job and you’ll start seeing just how much of it is show,” Taga said, folding up the letter and replacing it. “This kind of thing I can safely ignore. I’ve got ‘em by the technicals, but that won’t stop them from screeching about it.”

He opened up the last letter.

“Oho…” he murmured to himself after a few seconds of reading. “Now that’s good to know. A tip, jits: it pays to have friends, whatever route they might take in life. Take this one, for example. They might be a Vigil, but they’re a solid kin all around, especially seeing how they just saved us a detour to Olisia.”

He stuffed the letters into the pocket of his coat, then clapped his hands. Seeker Team C-39 straightened up, sharp with attention.

“Well then, team, we’ve got ourselves some fresh intel, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have other people to bother,” Taga said, the thrill of the hunt filling him from his boots up. “I’ll catch you up on the way. I’m sure our friend the tom isn’t wasting time, wherever he’s at.”

Chapter Text

Slumber 55, A.R. 372

“Uh-uh. No how, no way. Not happening,” Tsuki said, crossing her arms in an X. “Wandering through the woods trying to find a secret bear community? Great. Fantastic. All for it. Going into town so you can visit a library? Absolutely not.”

The snow-spotted hills of northern South Kaiko rolled in slow waves around Saigo and Tsuki, punctuated by small clusters of sleeping trees and the occasional farming settlement. They had started out early this morning, long before dawn managed to pull itself over the horizon.

“Oh, come on,” Saigo said, kicking at a chunk of muddy snow. It splattered across the slush of the road ahead of them, punching holes in the few remaining patches of pure white. “It’ll be fun.”

“For you,” Tsuki said, making a face. “For me, that’s multiple hours of mind-numbing boredom. What’s the point of visiting a library, anyway? You’re already a walking lecture book.”

“Well, that’s an absolutely massive generalization,” Saigo said. “I know a couple facts about the Krovkin, none of which tell us anything about how to start looking for them or whether they’re receptive to visitors, both of which are things I’d like to know before we get there.”

“I don’t know, Saigo…if these ursines are as secretive as you make them sound, I don’t think there’s going to be many books than can tell you more than what you already know.”

“Ugh, please, and you think a library’s going to help you? We should just find an ursine in the area and make them tell us where it is.”

“That…is actually a good idea,” Saigo said, stopping in his tracks.

“What do you mean, ‘actually?’” Tsuki said, scrunching her muzzle at him. “Is it that much of a surprise I can have a good idea?”

“No, no, of course not,” Saigo said, starting to walk again. “What’s surprising is that it’s a reasonably safe and cautious idea and you actually suggested it out loud.” He thought for a moment and then squinted at her. “Wait, what do you mean, ‘make them?’”

“Oh, come on. Secret ursine village. They’re not going to just tell us.”

“You never know until you try,” Saigo said. “You’d be surprised what a ‘please’ instead of a fist will get you. What would your method be?”

“Well, first I’d find an ursine and then I’d sneak up behind them and—”

“You know what, never mind, I don’t want to know,” Saigo said. “How about you let me do the talking when it comes to figuring out where the Krovkin are?”

“Yeah, yeah, spoil all the fun,” Tsuki grumbled, bundling her cloak tighter around her. “You don’t even act like a criminal.”

“If the definition of criminal included ‘enjoys acts of mayhem,’ I’m sure that would be true,” Saigo said. “All told, I would rather not add to my list of crimes.”

“You’re doing a pretty shit job of it, Breaking-Into-Harbor-mell.”

“We both know I would have preferred being Sneak-Into-Harbor-mell. That said, I do think ending up in the shards is worse than more crimes, and I don’t think the Vigil will stop coming after me if I said ‘hey, this is all just a big misunderstanding, maybe let me off the hook this time around?’”

“Oh really? Have you tried saying ‘please?’”

Saigo opened his mouth, a scathing retort notched and ready to fire…

…as soon as he thought of one…

“…Maybe I’ll try next time I get the chance,” he said instead.

“You know, I don’t think we have tried that yet. Could be worth a shot.”

Tsuki snorted.

“You seem the type who would try to do something like that,” she muttered, staring down the road. “Trying to find some way to talk about it…”

Saigo’s whiskers twitched, looking at her. There it was again—a flash of depth, like the lid on the mouth of a deep well had slipped off, like a pinprick hole in a rough-rock wall and the sense of echoing space beyond it.

One of Tsuki’s ears flicked.

“Did you say something?” she said, her eyes snapping back to him.

“What? Me?” Saigo said, blinking.

“I don’t see anyone else.”

“Wouldn’t that be a fun conversation.”

Saigo stifled a grin at Hadvo’s comment.

“No, no, I didn’t say anything,” he said. “And you’re right, I would rather talk it out, if only for the novelty of the experience. Is there a particular reason you’re so averse to the idea?”

Tsuki fixed him with a cold stare.

“Sometimes trying to talk things out ends with you getting dragged into the kind of mess you could have avoided if you’d listened to your gut and used your mouth for biting instead of words,” she said darkly.

Saigo blinked.

“Oh,” he said. “Um…sorry, I’ll be honest, I wasn’t expecting a genuine answer.”

“If you want to take it as that,” Tsuki said, looking back at the road ahead. “I find punching first and asking questions later leads to less problems overall.”

“Or at least fewer problems that can’t be solved with more punching?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever. You should give it a real try sometime. Maybe you won’t get hit in the face so much.”

“So…to get hit in the face less, I should put myself into situations where there are even more opportunities for people to hit me in the face?”

“Yeah, and then you learn how not to get hit in the face. Also, I don’t know why you still have those stitches in. It’s been a couple weeks already, and you’ll definitely want both your eyes available.”

“Need I remind you that going from ‘unable to walk’ to ‘outrunning a team of Hunters’ in a single week is not how most people experience recovery from their injuries? How does that work? You’ve said it’s not an anchor—”

“—and it isn’t, all right?” Tsuki said sharply.

“Okay, but how does it work?” Saigo asked. “That and your physical strength and your ability to turn invisible—how is none of that magical in nature?”

“Would you stop bringing that up?” Tsuki said, her ears flicking irritably. “I don’t owe you any kind of explanation.”

“I know, I know, but I can’t stop myself from being curious,” Saigo sighed. “Of the two of us, I do think you’re the stranger case. I mean, I don’t have much of a choice when it comes to how much I can share about myself—I think you might know almost as much about me as I do.”

Tsuki made a face.

“Well that’s disturbing,” she said. “And no, you’re definitely the stranger one here. I know enough about myself to know I can’t possibly be weirder than you are.”

“And yet that remains a debatable point,” Saigo said. “Though I’m sure the truth would be clearer if you answered some questions…?”

“Nice try. Maybe someday. If I ever decide it’s worth it. And that’s a big maybe. Don’t put any hope on it.”

“Lots of maybes. I don’t like maybes,” Saigo said, pausing to shake some mud off his paw. “They take up a lot of space without any resolution. At least Central’s given me a solid answer about what’ll happen if they catch me.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“‘Nothing I’ll enjoy,’ with a complimentary ‘complete absence of freedom’ and a side of ‘uncertain death.’”

“You’re a real ray of moonlight, aren’t you?”

Saigo half-smiled.

“Ha, yeah, Hadvo calls me an empty jug but I—”

His next words withered on his tongue as he realized what he’d said.

“Ohh…tell me you didn’t just say that.”

Saigo looked over at Tsuki, who had stopped at the same time he had. She was staring at him, eyes narrowed.

“…Two things,” she said, voice as flat and calm as a razor on a table. “First…I’ve never heard that term, empty jug. What is that?”

“It’s…I think it’s a feline thing,” Saigo said carefully, his hackles prickling. “You know, about expectations. Milk jug is optimistic, water jug is pragmatic, empty jug is pessimistic. That kind of thing.”

“Oh. Okay. I can see that,” Tsuki said, nodding slowly, her eyes still fixed on Saigo. “Second thing, then: you said you’ve been all on your own for the last ten weeks, and you don’t have any memories beyond that. So who the shatter is Hadvo?”

“That’s, uh…that’s a bit difficult to answer,” Saigo said, wiping his suddenly sweaty palms on his pants. “He’s—he’s someone I knew—”

“Someone you knew?” Tsuki interrupted sharply. “Because the way you said it made it sound like you’re still talking to him. Who is he? What have you been talking about? When did you last speak with him?”

“Tsuki, please, it’s not—”

“Not what? Not what I think it is? Not my concern? Not a problem that you’ve been lying to me this entire time?”

“It’s not like that—"

“Then what is it like?” Tsuki demanded, baring her teeth. “Are you working for someone? Are you passing on information? Did Arvan put you up to this?”

Her eyes had yet to leave Saigo’s face, even as her voice rose and cracked and her hand darted to the bandolier across her chest and yanked a knife from its sheath.

“I—I don’t—” Saigo stuttered, taking a step back, spell commands filling his head, drying his throat—

“Talk.”

The word slithered in the air between them like some creature made of dark mud and serrated bone. The deathly stillness on Tsuki’s face extended to the knife pointed at Saigo.

Saigo held out his hands in a calming motion.

“Just…hold on for a moment,” he said, trying to focus on her face and not the knife. “I’m not giving information to anyone. I’m not working for anyone. I don’t know who Arvan is. Please believe me.”

“Why should I?”

“Because I really, really don’t want to get stabbed,” Saigo said. “And! Because I’m telling the truth. I promise you, I’ve never told another person anything about you, and I don’t intend to, either. Who would I even tell?”

“This Hadvo person, apparently!” Tsuki spat. “He’s some kind of contact for you, isn’t he?! What are you planning?”

“Nothing, I swear. Any plans I have I’ve told you about, completely and utterly,” Saigo said, forcing himself to keep his voice level. “Follow the clues and find out who I am. That’s it. That’s everything, all right? Hadvo—look, it’s really complicated, all right? He’s—he’s—he’s not someone you’d be able to talk to!”

“Saigo, are we actually going there? Do you really think she’s going to believe you right now, with how she’s reacting just hearing my name?”

“That’s all you have to say?” Tsuki said. “That it’s complicated? Oh, sure, that explains a lot! Everything’s complicated for you, isn’t it?”

“For both of us, I think.”

“Excuse me?”

Saigo shut his mouth firmly for a moment, breathing in through his nose.

“Look,” he said, meeting Tsuki’s eyes. “We’ve both got complicated situations. We both know that. I don’t have any details about what your deal is, and you know practically everything about mine. The couple things you don’t know are things I haven’t told anyone, because they’re things everyone is better off not knowing. Hadvo—Hadvo is a person, but they’re of no consequence to you, and you wouldn’t believe me even if I told you who they are.”

“Yeah? Try me,” Tsuki said, ears flat against her head.

“Could you put the knife away first?”

Tsuki glanced at the knife in her hand, then looked back at him, her grip tightening.

Saigo groaned.

“Come on, we both know there’s not a thing I could do against you,” he said. “You could break every bone in my body in eight seconds if you wanted to.”

“And if you wanted to, you could probably stick this knife in my throat in less than one,” Tsuki growled.

Saigo stared at her blankly, then blinked as he realized what she was suggesting.

“With—what—no, no, absolutely not, absolutely not,” he said, taking a step back. “I—ugh—my speed spell? Use it to do something like that?”

“Oh, sure, you’re going to tell me you’ve never thought of that before?” Tsuki said, rolling her eyes.

“Shards no!” Saigo said, touching his throat and swallowing bile. “That would be—no, no, I don’t even want to think about that. That spell is for running away only. Not for—not for—not for that. It’s not for things like that.”

Tsuki stared at him.

“You’re kidding, right?” she said, the knife lowering slightly. “You’ve never thought about using it like that. Not even once?”

“I told you, no!” Saigo said, shuddering. His head was starting to hurt. “Please, life’s bad enough as it is without thinking about—about—thinking about that sort of thing. I do not use my spells for that sort of thing, the speed spell especially. It’s for running away. Getting out of danger. Distance, a moment to breathe. The most I’ve ever done is inconvenience people, make it harder for them to chase me. It’s not for hurting. Never.”

“Yeah, yeah, great ideology, but—"

“If you’re going to bring up some sort of convoluted situation where I’d have to use it to kill, I don’t want to hear it.”

The words came out faster than he’d intended, harsh and cold and accompanied by a bitterness he hadn’t known was in him, bubbling up from some hidden recess like a deep-sea vent.

The pain in his head surged, making him hiss. Something—something was wrong—this wasn’t—this wasn’t—

His legs gave out, and he pitched sideways, half-catching himself with an arm in the cold mud, clutching at his face with his free hand.

“Saigo? Saigo!”

He couldn’t do much more than grunt in reply. His head—his head—his eye—why—

“I pray you’ll never have to use it in such a way.”

Who—there was—someone—

“Nevertheless, I fear you may someday find yourself in a situation where the question again arises with deadly urgency, and there will be great consequences no matter your answer.”

A half-familiar scene. A blurry room—a library, indistinct—clear focus on a wall, a picture—and—four smaller pictures inside it, runes down the center, screaming meaning—

—and more, the blur sharpening, a crowded desk, more pictures, sketches, fuzzy—a person? A face, features smeared, the vague sense of a mouth opening and closing, eyes—

Tham

Darkness.

^^^^

Swirling white, falling, fluttering, noiseless…

?

A forest, a wall, a fire, a sword, a shadow…

!

Saigo opened his eye, squinting blearily up at a grey-clouded sky. A few snowflakes settled on his face, dampening his fur.

His head hurt.

Moving slowly, he raised a hand and gingerly prodded the source of the pain: a lump on the back of his skull, still tender.

He blinked experimentally, wincing when the motion set off another throb.

“Saigo?”

Saigo grunted. That felt like the appropriate response.

“Shards, you had me worried. How are you feeling? No, stupid question. Not great, obviously. We can, uh, talk later, though.”

Saigo wrinkled his brow, flagging a ‘why?’ for construction and delivery.

“Oh. You’re awake.”

Ah. Right.

Saigo struggled upright, shaking the mist from his brain, clumps of snow dropping off the sleeves of his sweater. He looked toward Tsuki’s voice and saw her standing a few paces away, arms folded, staring at him.

“…Hi,” he said cautiously.

She narrowed her eyes and said nothing.

Saigo looked down and scraped some mud off the leg of his pants. He wasn’t far from the road. Tsuki must have dragged him here.

He looked back at her.

“…How long was I out?” he asked.

“…Not long,” she said. “You kept mumbling to yourself.”

“Oh. Anything interesting?”

Tsuki shrugged.

“Something about trees,” she said. “I wasn’t listening too closely.”

“Ohh, that’s a sharding lie. She was practically taking notes.”

“…Can you tell me what happened?” Saigo asked.

“Sure. You went nuts, that’s what happened.”

“Any more specifics? ‘Nuts’ is a pretty broad category.”

“You went nuts!” Tsuki repeated incredulously. “Falling over yourself, grabbing your head, staring at nothing, gibbering about who-the-shards-knows-what! You don’t remember any of that?”

“I…think I was caught up remembering something else,” Saigo said, rubbing his head. “I’m—I’m sorry. This has happened a couple times before, but never so…intense, I think.”

“You remembered something,” Tsuki said flatly. “That’s what all that was?”

“Well, normally it’s just a headache and some light hallucinations, which for all I know is typical for someone who’s lost all their memories,” Saigo said. “I’ve never…gibbered before, though.”

“You’ve got something really wrong with you, you know that?”

“Yeah, I know,” Saigo sighed.

Silence expanded gently between them.

“So…was hitting me on the head your first instinct, or…?”

“No, I yelled at you first,” Tsuki said. “Slapped you a couple times. You didn’t seem to notice.”

“Apparently not,” Saigo said, scratching his whiskers.

“She did come out with some pretty creative swears. I can tell you what they were later, if you like.”

Saigo nodded vaguely, feeling suddenly and profoundly tired. He stared at his paws, which were matted, dotted with crusting scabs, and covered with mud up to the hocks.

“What did you remember?”

Saigo glanced up at Tsuki.

“Something…tangential to what you were about to ask me, I think,” he said. “Somebody talking to me. I thought I…”

Tsuki’s ears twitched as he trailed off.

“Thought what?” she echoed.

“I thought I recognized them,” Saigo said. “I mean, I remembered them, but I can’t really put a face to their voice. There was…a room, full of books. Pictures on the wall. The picture, the start of the…the path to truth.”

“The—oh, the one you showed me in the Harbor,” Tsuki said. “The one with the four pictures inside it.”

“Yeah. That one. It’s the second time I’ve seen the room. First time I’ve remembered a voice, though. Talking about…choices.”

The silence returned, heavier this time.

Tsuki broke it with a loud sigh.

“Shards you’re weird,” she said. “Are you sure you weren’t a Cert before all this? You sure talk like one sometimes.”

“I don’t think I’m old enough to be certified.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure they’d love to have you.”

“…Thank you?”

“Whatever. Can we get moving already? The Krovkin aren’t getting any closer.”

“I’m hungry.”

“You can eat on the road.”

“…Okay.”

Tsuki stepped forward and held out a hand.

Saigo stared at it for a few seconds.

Tsuki shook it impatiently.

“Well?” she said. “Are you going to get up or not?”

“Sorry. Just…gathering myself,” Saigo said, taking her hand.

She yanked him up, pulling his paws entirely off the ground. He stumbled past her, only barely keeping his balance.

“Good, you can still walk,” she said, starting off down the road. “Let’s hurry it up.”

Saigo caught up with her in a few quick strides.

“Um…about Hadvo,” he said. “Do you still want an explanation?”

“Oooghhh…I don’t know about this, Saigo…”

Tsuki grunted in a way that was probably meant to suggest indifference, if not for the nugget of begrudging permittance buried deep inside it.

Saigo took a deep breath.

“So, uh, Hadvo is…shards, I’ve never had to explain this to someone before…uh, it’s a bit strange—okay, a lot strange—but Hadvo and I can only really talk to each other. I mean, I can talk to other people, but he can only really talk to me, and I’m the only one that can hear him. He’s not—he’s not, you know, someone out there that I’m sending letters to or something.”

Tsuki continued to look at the road ahead, but Saigo could tell from her wrinkled expression that he’d already lost her.

“Look, I can tell you right now that he’s in no way a threat to you,” Saigo said, knowing he was fighting a vertical battle but unable to stop himself. “He’s not even physical, most of the time. He just keeps me company, checks in on me. Kind of like a…kind of like a vahat, I suppose?”

“Hmmm…at least you didn’t call me a ghost.”

“So…he’s your imaginary friend,” Tsuki said, deadpan.

Saigo gave up.

“Yeah, pretty much,” he sighed.

“Excuse me?!”

“Okay…” Tsuki said slowly. “Sure. I guess it’s not the weirdest thing about you. Just make sure he doesn’t go talking about me, all right?”

“I’ll make sure he understands that.”

“The shards you will! Imaginary friend my ass!”

“But!” Tsuki pointed a warning finger at Saigo. “If I ever get so much as a hint that you’re actually working for someone else or giving away secrets, I swear I will bury you alive.”

Saigo managed a half-grin.

“Believe me, even if I knew anyone else, there’s nothing I could tell them about you,” he said. “I know less about you than I do about myself, and that’s saying something.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say.”

Chapter Text

Slumber 56, A.R. 372

“This is a waste of time.”

Saigo set down his half-empty cup of milk and looked over at Tsuki, who was leaning back on the bar with her own cup of pink fizz and scowling out at the rest of the room. The clink of utensils, hushed conversation, and quiet laughter bubbled around them.

“I’m pretty sure this was your idea,” he said mildly.

Tsuki sipped at her fizz and made a face, setting it back on the bar.

“Finding an ursine was my idea, and I don’t see any here,” she said. “Therefore: waste of time and we should leave.”

“We already paid for rooms for the night,” Saigo said. “Not to mention it’s already dark out and both of us are on a day cycle.”

“Oh, sure, throw your reasons at me,” Tsuki grumbled. “I still think we should have made straight for the forest and looked for bears.”

“I’m sure there’s no chance that would have ended poorly,” Saigo said, finishing off his milk. “As it stands, we might as well see if there’s anyone here that can give us some details about the Krovkin. Seeing how close it is to the forest, this is probably most people’s last rest stop before they take the road through to the other side.”

“We wouldn’t have to bother with any of this if we’d just jumped a merchant,” Tsuki muttered, flicking the edge of her cup with a claw.

“Can you please not say things like that in public?” Saigo said, dropping his voice to a whisper. “I honestly can’t tell when you’re joking or not. We’re also underage, you realize. We’re a little suspicious as it is.”

“Yeah, being underage is what makes us stick out the most,” Tsuki said, rolling her eyes. “Not you wearing an old spell vest and carrying around a massive sword on your back.”

“It’s hardly massive. And I keep it wrapped up.”

“Right. Because there’s no way anyone would suspect a sword-shaped blanket of having a sword in it.”

“Believe me, it’s a lot better than carrying it around without the blanket. I learned that lesson the hard way.”

Tsuki grunted, poured the rest of her drink down her throat, and slammed the cup on the counter with a bang that made Saigo jump.

“So you think there’s someone here who knows where we can find the Krovkin?” she said.

Saigo shrugged, his fur slowly settling back down.

“I think it’s a possibility,” he said.

“Fine,” Tsuki said, dropping off her stool. “I’ll go talk to some people, see if I can shake some info out of them.”

“I really hope you don’t mean that literally,” Saigo said.

She made a face at him and stalked away.

Saigo turned back to the bar, watching her out of the corner of his eye as she marched straight up to a group of finely clothed patrons all seated around the same table.

“Hey, you lot,” she barked, interrupting their conversation. “What do you all know about—”

—aaaand that was his cue to stop listening.

Saigo folded back his ears. Not how he would have approached it, but fine, fine, she would do it her way and he’d just have to do his and pretend he didn’t know her.

He raised a hand and flagged down the barkeep, a squat, long-limbed, orange-furred simian. They nodded at him from the other end of the bar, raising one extra-long digit in the universal ‘be there in a moment’ signal.

Saigo stared down at his empty cup, trying—and failing—to filter out the sounds of Tsuki’s conversation, which seemed to have several people involved in it now, all of them loud and at varying levels of affronted.

A set of hairy knuckles rapped the bar in front of him, and he looked up to see a grin almost too wide for its face, just to the left of a barrel-chested body. The barkeep hung by one hand and foot from the series of knotted ropes and metal bars set into the ceiling, a handful of dirty spoons clenched in his free foot.

“Need a refill there, tombo?” they drawled, nudging Saigo’s cup with a finger. “Or is there somethin’ else I can help ya with?”

“No refill, but there is actually something I was wondering about, yes,” Saigo said. “Do you get a lot of foot traffic through here? Merchant caravans and travelers and that sort of thing?”

“Sure do,” the barkeep said, reaching several feet down the bar and scooping up an empty bowl in front of a snoozing patron. “Lotsa movement up and down Menya Way. Fat commerce, trusted road.”

“Right, one of the busier paths up to the coast,” Saigo said, nodding. “Going up through the eastern wing of Falidgra Forest. It’s my first time taking this route, though, and I’ve heard some…well, rumors.”

“Oh?” the barkeep said, their lazy grin widening. “What sorta rumors? I’ve got a couple’a guesses, but I’ll hear ‘em in yer own words.”

“It’s nothing too serious,” Saigo said, shrugging. “Stuff about an ursine town in the woods and the road being a bit dangerous. Are those correlated at all? I don’t know if I want to risk the road if there’s a chance of getting mugged by bears.”

“Hm? The Krovvies?” the barkeep said, their eyebrows rising like the sun on a foggy morning. “Nah…it’d be a waste ta worry about them, tombo. They keep to themselves, and while they do watch the road, ‘s mostly to make sure there’s no funny business goin’ on in their territory. Too much iron in their spines to consider holdin’ people up.”

“Sorry? You said they watch the road?”  Saigo said, his tail lashing in a way that wasn’t entirely faked. “That sounds like a heart attack waiting to happen.”

The barkeep shook their leathery head solemnly, their free hand and foot carefully wiping out a glass.

“Nah, tombo, ya won’t even see ‘em,” they said. “They’ll be there, but they got ways of stayin’ out of sight, sound, and smell. Nobody stupid enough to go lookin’ for ‘em, either, not when they’ve got right of heritage. Not to say there’s never been a kin or two who decided to go lookin’ for trouble, and you can bet they found it.”

“What happened to them? Those that tried, I mean?” Saigo asked, genuine trepidation leaking into his voice. This next step on the ‘path to truth’ already sounded like he might regret it.

“Well, tombo, if someone came stompin’ around on your turf, cuttin’ up your trees, and you were five hundred pounds of muscle with a temper shorter’n a rodentine, what’d you do?”

“…I’d probably stop asking politely after the first offense,” Saigo said.

“There ya have it,” the barkeep said. “That’s about what I know, tombo. If’n’when ya head out, just keep to the road and there’ll be no problems, you can count on it.”

“I see,” Saigo said, nodding slowly and debating whether or not he should risk his next question.

Well, he didn’t have much to lose, and he’d probably never see this barkeep again, so…

“You wouldn’t happen to know where exactly—”

Directly behind Saigo, the sounds he’d been carefully avoiding hearing finally punched their way into his conscious brain, the catalyst being a loud, panicked yell.

Pushing down his immediate instinct to make a break for it, Saigo swiveled in his seat.

A group of richly-clothed merchants were in the process of standing up from their seats, their clamor aimed at Tsuki, who was standing over a human on the ground, her face contorted with fury. The human himself was rolling around in obvious pain and clutching at his nose, blood and snot bubbling through his fingers.

Tsuki pulled a leg back, ignoring the shouts of the people around the table, and was swinging well before Saigo’s paws hit the ground.

The kick didn’t so much hit the human as lift him, bowling him across the floor and sending him slamming into the bar. He crumpled to the ground, simultaneously gasping for breath and choking on the blood gushing from his broken nose.

Tsuki turned to face the rest of the merchants, raising her fists as chairs clattered to the ground.

SBACK

Everyone froze. Saigo, Tsuki, the rising merchants, and the rest of the room’s occupants all turned toward the bar.

The simian barkeep’s placid face had not changed. Neither had the position of their sack-like body, hanging from the ceiling. Their enormous leathery hand, however, lay flat on the top of the bar.

“No brawlin’ in my bar,” they said calmly. They looked at Saigo. “You, tombo.”

Saigo jolted. He’d been halfway to Tsuki before he’d frozen, and he was only now realizing he had no plan for when he reached her.

“Er…yes?” he managed to say.

The barkeep jerked their head at Tsuki and the merchants.

“Sort it out,” they said. “Friendly-like.”

“S-sort it…?” Saigo echoed weakly.

“Yeah. You’re with the vixie, ain’tcha?”

“Yyyyes. Yes. I am,” Saigo said, jitters already screaming through his body at high speed. Shards, shards, he hadn’t been prepared to deal with this—

“Good. Keep it calm, hm?”

The barkeep grinned and lifted their hand away from the bar, picking up a clean cup and placing it under the spigot of a barrel. For a few seconds, the only sound in the room was the gurgling of fizz and the groans of the human on the floor.

Saigo looked around.

Everyone in the room looked back at him.

He looked at the merchants, many of whom were still half-frozen in the act of balling up their fists.

He might as well make the most of their attention…

“You two,” Saigo said, pointing at a random pair of merchants. He gestured at the human on the ground. “Help him up, please. You may want to stop the bleeding.”

One of the merchants who Saigo hadn’t pointed at—a stout human with a broom-bristle mustache—took a deep breath and extended a trembling finger at Tsuki.

“That audacious vi—”

“The REST of you,” Saigo said, speaking over the merchant. “Sit down. I’ll talk to you in a moment. Nothing until then, please.”

The merchant spokesperson’s face turned tomato-red. An uncharitable part of Saigo added that it looked the appropriate shape, as well.

“Who the shatter do you think you’re—”

Popopop

Both Saigo and the merchants looked back at the barkeep, who gave them a big smile and waggled their hand at them—the one they’d just cracked the knuckles of.

Saigo looked back at the merchant spokesperson—Tomato, he mentally dubbed him.

“Sit down, please,” he said, trying to keep his tail still. “And you two!”

The two merchants he’d pointed at stiffened.

Saigo pointed at the fallen human.

“Help him,” he repeated.

They nodded dumbly and rushed over, helping the human sit up, one pulling a handkerchief from their pocket and pressing it against the human’s nose.

The rest of the merchants began to pick up their chairs, grumbling under their breath. In the background, the rest of the bar’s patrons began to return to their own conversations, though Saigo could keenly sense their attention.

Saigo finally turned to Tsuki, who was glaring at him with a heat strong enough to singe his fur.

“So…” Saigo said, lowering his voice. “What happened? I mean, it sounded like you were all talking pretty...animatedly, but I wasn’t really listening to the conversation—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Tsuki said roughly, cutting him off. She was trembling, Saigo noticed—partly from rage, partly from…something else.

“I…think it really does,” he said tentatively. “I mean, I don’t know if he said something or—”

“It doesn’t matter, but he deserved it,” Tsuki interrupted again, glowering past him at the human now sitting up against the bar. “And more. You want to help, step aside and let me kill him.”

“Okay…maybe let’s not escalate to that point just yet,” Saigo said carefully, his voice still a whisper. “A murder might draw unnecessary scrutiny. You’re sure there’s not an alternative option or…?”

Tsuki’s eyes flashed back to him. Saigo flinched, amazed her glare didn’t cut a clean gash across his face.

“So you’re siding with them?” she spat, her brush stiff and high. “Fine. I see how it is. Give me one good reason I shouldn’t ‘escalate’ and beat the living moonlight out of you and every one of those shit-lickers.”

“Because you still haven’t clarified why they deserve an untimely death, maybe?” Saigo suggested, his ears twitching. He could hear the merchants getting restless. “Look, I have no clue what the keeper’s on about, but if I knew what happened I might be able to help—”

“Hey! You, feline!”

Saigo glanced over at the merchants, who were still clustered around their table, glaring at the two of them.

“We must demand some sort of remuneration for this whole ruckus, you know,” Tomato barked. “We were sitting here quietly and enjoying a pleasant meal when that—that fox came up and began rudely interrogating us about the path through the forest. Then out of nowhere she struck an important member of our branch! You had best have some sort of compensation on hand, or else we’ll—”

“He grabbed my tail.”

Tsuki’s mutter was just loud enough to cut off Tomato’s rising monologue. Whether or not it reached the three dozen straining ears in the background, Saigo couldn’t tell, because suddenly all he could hear were those four words, crackling and cold in his mind.

Tomato coughed in the near silence, his mustache fluttering.

“Geran-mell is a respected member of the Cloudcanvas Branch of the Guild of Merchants, and he would most certainly never—”

“Quiet, if you please,” Saigo said evenly, cutting him off. He looked back at Tsuki, ice creaking in his head.

“He grabbed your tail?” he asked quietly, his voice far away from his own ears.

Tsuki ground her teeth, a low gurgle echoing in her throat. She glared at him—at the merchants—Tomato—Geran—at the floor—

“…Yeah,” she finally mumbled, her claws digging into the floor. “I wasn’t looking at him, but I was talking to the rest, and he…”

She didn’t finish, not that she needed to. Bubbling fury and livid embarrassment fought for a hold on her face.

Something was holding her back from shoving Saigo to the side and breaking her assaulter’s neck. That fact alone was scarier than anything he’d ever seen her do.

“Do…do you want to keep handling it, or…” he managed to say through the frigid crackling in his mind. “I mean, if you want, I can…”

He stopped. Do what exactly? He could barely hear himself think right now. Where had he been going with this? Nothing but ice in the darkness, a stab in the gut at those words, another at the expression on Tsuki’s face, what was the worst that could happen if she did kill someone who would—

A hand grabbed him by the upper arm, and he looked down at Tsuki’s face. Her eyes weren’t on him at all, focused instead on the human by the bar, at the ranting Tomato, but there was a question in her hand, in the tightness of her grip—a question Saigo couldn’t quite make out.

Her eyes flickered, meeting his, and she released him just as suddenly as she’d grabbed him. Before Saigo could speak again, her head moved in the barest fraction of a nod.

Saigo understood the meaning of the motion immediately.

She did not need his help. What she had given him just now was her permission.

The world filtered back in.

“—must ask again what proof you have of such an accusation!” Tomato was blustering. “Any eyewitnesses? No? Then in the matter of this outrageous assault on a member of the esteemed Cloudcanvas—

“Shut up, please,” Saigo said, not bothering to look at him.

He ignored Tomato’s outraged sputtering and walked over to Geran, who was up on his feet now and leaning heavily on the bar, the other two merchants hovering anxiously nearby.

Saigo tapped him on the shoulder and waited until the human’s bleary eyes were focused on him.

“My friend over there,” Saigo said quietly, motioning to Tsuki with his head. “You touched her inappropriately. Did you grab her tail?”

Geran’s eyes—leaking tears, puffing up—flickered over to his associates. They were watching expectantly, although a few of them were suddenly looking uncomfortable. He looked back at Saigo, then at the ground.

"...Do," he muttered, his eyes refusing to meet Saigo's. "I dibn't 'ouch 'er. She 'ust 'it be. Unbuvoked."

“There! There you have it!” Tomato yelled. “Now you’d best be prepared to make reparations or else we’ll—”

Saigo turned him out and stared Geran in the eyes for a few more seconds.

“You’re lying,” he said, a slight throb building in his head. “Tell me the truth, please. I want myself and everyone else to hear the truth from your mouth. Did you grab my friend’s tail?”

Geran’s eyes wobbled around the room as if trying to track a drunk spider, meeting Saigo’s briefly before skirting away again.

“I dibn’t,” he muttered.

Saigo twitched as the pain in his head rose another notch. He looked over his shoulder at Tsuki, who had remained where she was, arms folded tight, eyes flitting back and forth between Saigo and the cowering Geran, expression indecipherable.

Tomato raised his voice again.

“I’ve had just about enough of you upstarts!” he spat, shoving the table aside and marching toward Saigo. “Now you listen here—”

Saigo raised a finger at the human, halting him mid-pretentious.

“I told you. To shut. Up.”

Tomato stopped short at Saigo’s words, more likely out of unspeakable indignation than anything else.

Saigo turned back to Geran, who had nearly filled his handkerchief with blood and mucus.

“You.”

The human flinched visibly, eyes darting every which way, looking to his companions for help.

“One. Last. Time,” Saigo said, placing each word with care. “I want to hear the truth from your mouth. Did you touch her?”

For a moment—less than a moment, less than a sliver of a second—everything disappeared. No noise. No room. No grinning barkeep. No voices. No Tsuki. Just the human’s shifting, watery eyes, betraying his guilt. Silent. Echoing.

Pain.

The world returned.

Saigo blinked.

The human’s eyes widened, and he gave a sudden, piercingly loud shriek, dropping the handkerchief and scrabbling at the bar, pulling himself up and over and away from Saigo.

“I dib!” he screamed, flailing and falling backwards behind the bar, knocking glasses to the ground. “I dib I dib I grabbed her dail I’b sorry I’b sorry I’b sorry!”

Saigo blinked again and took a half-step back, his eyes stinging as the room fell silent for the second time in four minutes. He looked around as the barkeep picked the human up with one lanky arm and heaved him back over the bar.

“What—what did you do to him?!” Tomato demanded as the rest of the merchants rushed over to the trembling Geran, who from the smell of it had soiled himself.

Tomato grabbed Saigo by the collar and shook him. “Answer me!”

Saigo pushed the human’s hands away.

“I didn’t do anything,” he said coldly, stepping back and blinking away the pain behind his eyes. It was already fading. “I just asked him to tell the truth. Is there a problem with that?”

"YOU LITTLE—"

CLOP

“Well then, I think that settles it,” the barkeep drawled, rubbing their hands together. “Gotta confession ‘n all that. Clouds, yer friend’s admitted the truth, ain’tee? I’d say grabbin’ a tail without permission makes a smack and a kick a fair response, mm? An’ now I think it, also worth you and all yer lot never settin’ foot nor paw in my bar ever again.”

Tomato’s face went from redgrass to tulya hide in the space of a second.

“Are you saying she’s justified in striking an unarmed person for, for—”

“Harrassin’ her?” the barkeep said, raising an eyebrow and resting their arm on the bar. “Seem’s plain the answer’s ‘yes.’ An’ if yer that concerned ‘bout fairness, she’s unarmed too.” They caught Saigo’s eye and jerked their head at the other end of the room.

Saigo immediately went back to Tsuki, putting a careful hand on her shoulder and guiding her toward the stairs. She followed him, unresisting, craning her neck to look back at the crying human on the floor and his clustered associates.

They hurried up the stairs, leaving behind the owlish gazes of the bar’s silent onlookers.

They paused at the top.

Saigo rubbed his eye, marveling at the fact he’d somehow managed to get through that whole debacle without blacking out, and also that Tsuki hadn’t murdered an entire merchant branch. Odd that the burst of pain in his head hadn’t been accompanied by a memory…

“What’d you do to him?”

Saigo looked down at Tsuki. Her fists had yet to unclench, but she’d stopped vibrating like a quasus on buzz. She still looked mad enough to burn a house down just by screaming, though.

“I don’t think…I don’t think I did anything to him,” Saigo said, still trying to process the blur of the last few minutes. “I just…asked him to tell the truth. I mean, he was obviously lying through his teeth.”

“How’d you make him confess, though?”

“Well, he probably understood the alternative was you breaking every bone in his hands, which he richly deserved,” Saigo said as they walked down the hallway. “Are…are you sure it was all right for me to—”

“Let’s not talk about it,” Tsuki said. “It happened, he got what was coming to him, and he’ll get even more if I have anything to say about it.”

“I…okay.”

“Sork-stomached ass-hat…” she muttered to herself, shaking her head. “If I see him again, I think I will break his fingers. And what was with that stupid tangerine barkeep? Did you seem them grinning to themself? Sharding merchants…”

She continued to mumble venomously under her breath as Saigo watched the numbers on the doors pass.

He kept replaying the stand-off over and over in his head, particularly the moment Tsuki grabbed him, maybe unthinkingly on her part. The slight nod, the sensation of depth, of things left unsaid and perhaps never to be spoken aloud.

Let’s not talk about it.

“What’s…what’s your room number?” he asked. “We should…get some sleep. Leave early tomorrow.”

“Sure, whatever,” Tsuki said absently.

Saigo glanced at her. She was holding her tail in both hands and glaring at nothing in particular.

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” he said. “Are you okay?”

She blinked and looked up at him, scowling.

“I said I don’t want to talk about it,” she said, though her tone lacked her typical severity. “I’m fine. I mean, I’ll probably have to boil my tail to get that sork’s grease off it, but other than that…”

She shrugged, glancing at her room key.

“…All right then,” Saigo said. He stopped in front of his door and looked back at Tsuki. “And I hope you know, I wasn’t siding with them.”

She paused halfway into her room.

“Yeah, I know,” she said gruffly.

Saigo pushed open his door. Just before it closed behind him, he thought he heard a brief mutter.

“Thanks.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Slumber 56, A.R. 372

“Shards, Saigo, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for that. I would’ve beat the coals out of them, personally. It’s a shame Tsuki only got the one punch in.”

“Yeah…really not how I expected the evening to go,” Saigo said, buttoning his spell vest. “It’s all still a little fuzzy in my head, but I wouldn’t want to relive it. I hate people like that.”

“Why’d that barkeep make you deal with it, do you think?”

Saigo shook his head.

“No clue,” he said, hoisting his pack up on his shoulders. “I was thinking, the way they were facing…they could have seen what happened. If they did, I don’t know why they didn’t just handle things themselves.”

“Hopefully they would have stepped in if that ass hadn’t confessed.”

“Again, not sure,” Saigo said, tucking the bundled sword under his arm like an especially suspicious loaf of bread. “They didn’t strike me as someone who would have let the merchants get away with it, though.”

“You sure are generous about people’s character when they’re not directly out to get you.”

“I suppose it’s a case of contrast?” Saigo said, pausing in front of the door. “It could also be because I talked to them face-to-face. It’s all the people after me that I’ve never met that are hard to think about in a positive light.”

“Sure, sure…oh, by the way, Tsuki’s coming up to your door right now.”

Saigo pulled open his door, stepping back as Tsuki’s fist swiped through open air. She stumbled, a moment of genuine surprise flashing across her face.

She straightened up as Saigo looked at her politely.

“…Were you talking to someone just now?” she demanded, making a show of brushing herself off.

“Uh…yes, actually,” Saigo said. She’d kept her bandolier off today too, he noted. Probably tucked away in her bag, but he wouldn’t be surprised if she had another knife hidden away on her person somewhere. “I was talking with Hadvo.”

“Oh, Ika…”

Tsuki made an expression like she’d opened a box of rocks to find a single large seashell inside—not an outright unpleasant thing to find, but certainly a disorienting one.

“…Oh. Okay,” she said. “What were you talking about?”

“The differences between how you think about people you know and people you don’t, mostly,” Saigo said. “Especially when the people you don’t know have it out for you.”

Tsuki’s gave him a blank look.

“Sure,” she said. “Are you ready to go or what?”

Saigo looked over his shoulder at the empty room behind him, then back at Tsuki.

“Yes,” he said.

“Great. Let’s get a move on. I can’t wait to get out of this hole,” Tsuki said, turning and sweeping out the door.

“I was looking at the map last night, and it looks like we’ll get to the forest proper maybe an hour or two before the start of second cycle,” Saigo said, locking his door behind him and swinging the key around a claw as they moved down the hallway.

“Wheeee, another six hours of walking,” Tsuki grumbled, trotting down the stairs. “Why’s everything so far away from everything else?”

“It’s probably got something to do with her legs being half as long as most people’s.”

Saigo tried to stop his laugh by turning it into a cough, immediately choked on it, and was coughing for real by the time they reached the bottom of the stairs.

“If you hairball right here…” Tsuki said, giving him a wary look.

“No, no, I’m fine,” Saigo coughed, clearing his throat. “Just some air going the wrong way. Did you eat already?”

“Yeah, I had a bite,” Tsuki said as they walked through the inn’s dining room, populated by a handful of nightkin enjoying an early dinner. “I’ve been up since an hour ago.”

“Did you sleep all right?” Saigo asked, waving goodbye at the night-cycle barkeep, a rotund rodentine with thick glasses.

“I’m fine,” Tsuki said, rolling her eyes. “You can stop asking, all right?”

“Sorry, sorry…”

They stepped outside into the late-night cold, their breath misting in the air. The star-sprinkled sky stretched out above them, punctuated by the gently glowing moon, still an hour or two away from setting.

“Oh, nice…”

“What?” Tsuki said.

“Nothing,” Saigo said, shaking his head. “Just looking at the moon. I miss being on a night-cycle, so traveling before dawn is…pleasant.”

Tsuki craned her neck and looked up at the moon, then back at the road stretching ahead of them.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

^^^^

Slumber 57, A.R. 372

“You never have? Not even once?”

“No. I wouldn’t want to, either.”

“Really? Why? I think they’re a lot of fun.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t like the idea of not having my own two paws on the ground. Have you?”

“Once or twice in the time I can remember, mostly for getaways and diversions. I figure I must have ridden them before that, because I never had too much trouble with them. They’re friendly animals, so long as you don’t go spooking them.”

“Spooking them? They don’t have eyes and they like to climb trees.”

“They just see differently, and it’s really not all that hard to climb a tree with your eyes closed.”

“I knew I had good reason not to trust you.”

“Okay, but say there was an opportunity. Would you try riding one?”

“No, but I’d fight one if I had to.”

“In what situation would you have to fight an olinoo?”

“Don’t ask me, I just said I would if I had to.”

“Again, when would—you know what, as curious as I am, I’m going to stop there. What about a tulya? Would you ride a tulya?”

“I—”

Tsuki hesitated.

“A tulya?” she said. “Yeah…maybe. It’d probably be faster to walk, if it was just a tulya…”

“They are about as fast and dangerous as a mudpie,” Saigo agreed, reaching up absently and batting at an overhanging branch. “Knowing you, though, a thrown mudpie would probably do some serious damage.”

“Good for blinding someone in a fight, true,” Tsuki grunted, kicking at a damp clump of dirt mixed with decayed leaves. “Are we in the actual forest yet or what? It’s been pretty spotty so far.”

“I think we’re getting pretty close,” Saigo said. “I’m not too sure what to expect once we get there, though. The Krovkin probably aren’t going to advertise their location.”

“Or we can advertise our location and make them come to us,” Tsuki suggested. “You’re good enough at attracting trouble to make that an option.”

“…I honestly can’t tell if that's a compliment or an insult from you,” Saigo said. “But instead of that, consider: if we’re lucky, there might just be one on the side of the road we can talk to. The barkeep from yesterday said they keep an eye on things.”

“Oh, sure, if we’re lucky,” Tsuki said, giving him a side-eye.

“Don’t give me that look. I happen to be grey right now.”

“Oh, I don’t think it has anything to do with the color of your fur,” Tsuki said. “I’m saying that you as a person attract trouble. I’m sure the entire government would still be after you even if you were a human or rodentine or whatever.”

“I do not have the entirety of Central after me.”

“Right. Sure. Just the parts of it with weapons and Scrap and whose entire business it is to use them at every opportunity. Thank Ano you don’t have the Counters after you.”

They walked in silence for a while.

Tsuki gave him another sidelong look.

"Do you—?”

“No, no, of course not,” Saigo said hastily. “I mean, I don’t think so. I didn’t even remember the Vigil being after me when I woke up, though, so I figure it’s better to avoid everyone from Central outright.”

“Yeah, I guess—hey…”

“What?”

“Do you see that?” Tsuki asked, pointing.

Saigo squinted. Farther down the gently meandering road and between the broad trunks of trees, he could see a large, dull…something.

“If it’s big and round, then yes,” he said, speeding up slightly. “Is it just me or does that kind of look like a person?”

“It’s just you. It looks like a lump,” Tsuki said, matching his pace. “Why’s it in the middle of the road? It doesn’t look like a cart or anything.”

“Not sure…” Saigo muttered as it slowly became clearer. “What…oh. It’s…it’s a rock.”

It was indeed a rock. A huge one, bigger and broader than an ursine, the road splitting into two paths around it. Moss crawled across its surface in a series of fuzzy patches like the continents of a distant world.

“A rock? Why’s there a huge rock here?” Tsuki asked, as if she’d been personally insulted.

“Well, I imagine it’s just sitting around. Rocks don’t do much else, I think,” Saigo said, walking up to it and running a hand along weather-smoothed ridges. “Oh, hold on…there’s words here.”

He cleared his throat, squinting at the deeply engraved words in the mottled grey face of the stone.

“‘Be cautious and swift, travelers,’” he read. “‘This forest is the last home of the great Krov, the Stoneblood, and has passed into the hands of his kin by right of ancestry. Press on and do not linger—only those with pure roots may plant themselves in this our home.’”

In the depths of the forest, an umakak trilled. Saigo stared up at the massive rock, doing his best to stifle the little voice in his head telling him to climb it.

“So…‘get lost unless you’re here to see family?’” Tsuki said.

Saigo nodded slowly.

“That seems to be the gist of it,” he said, running his eye over the carved words again. “A friendly warning so they don’t have to deal with people personally. I wonder if this was here originally or if they moved it from somewhere? It looks kind of…familiar…”

“What are you mumbling about now?”

Saigo raised his voice.

“I was just saying it looks a little familiar,” he said, still running a hand over the stone, his fingers slipping in and out of worn contours and tracing half-hidden designs. “The stone, I mean. Don’t you think so?”

“Rock’s rock, penhead,” Tsuki said. “Do I look like a taxine to you?”

“Sorry, give me just a second,” Saigo said, resting the bundled sword against the rock, then slinging off his pack and rummaging through it. “I want to check something.”

He found what he’d been looking for and pulled it out, its cool weight comforting in his hands. He rubbed one hand along the edges of the stone tablet, then touched the boulder, following the engravings.

“Huh,” he said.

“What?” Tsuki asked.

Saigo looked over at her and raised the tablet.

“I think they’re made of the same kind of stone,” he said. “The way they’re carved seems pretty similar, too.”

“How can you tell if something’s carved the same way?”

“Uh…I don’t really know, actually,” Saigo said, lowering the tablet. “It just looks and feels kind of similar.”

“Great. And how exactly does that help us?”

Saigo pulled his pack and the sword onto his back, keeping the tablet tucked under one arm.

“Well, it helps me hope we’re in the right place,” he said as they skirted the boulder and continued along the road. “We’re still going in half-blind here. Completely blind, maybe, if they can hide themselves as well as the barkeep said.”

“Please, they’re ursines. They’re about as naturally stealthy as that rock back there,” Tsuki said.

“I don’t know…the barkeep said they had ways of keeping themselves out of sight, sound, and smell,” Saigo said. “It sounds more complicated than just hiding behind a tree.”

“Of course, that might just be an inflated rumor,” Saigo said.

“They might not even be watching the road, but if people think they are, that would make for excellent security,” Saigo said.

“If they do have some way of concealing themselves to the point even other hanju can’t pick them out, though, that would be really interesting. It could even be a form of magic,” Saigo said.

“…Tsuki?” Saigo said.

He looked over. No Tsuki.

He looked to the other side. Still no Tsuki.

He looked back—

“Gngh,” he said, fur puffing out at the sight of Tsuki, walking alongside him like she’d never left. She probably hadn’t.

“What was that about?” he asked.

She blinked and looked at him.

“What?” she said.

“You…you disappeared for a while.”

“Oh. Don’t worry about it. You were saying something about hiding behind trees?”

“I…yeah,” Saigo said uncertainly, looking at her more closely. “I was. Earlier. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Tsuki said. Her pupils were dilated, and there was a slight, almost imperceptible quaver in her voice. “Are we looking for ursines or what?”

“Well, yes, but you really don’t look so good. Are you sure—”

“I’m fine!”

Something crashed away through the underbrush, deeper into the forest.

Tsuki glared at Saigo for a moment, then spun and stalked up the road.

Saigo followed after a few seconds, keeping several strides behind for now.

What had that been about? Something he’d said? Something she’d heard? Something else entirely? Why had she disappeared? Had she been hiding from something? How did that work, anyways? She’d said it wasn’t magic, but was that really true? Was it at all similar to what the barkeep had said about the Krovkin, if there was any truth to that?

Why was his eye stinging, now of all times?

He rubbed it absently, the stitches burning. They’d have to come out eventually.

Not now, though. Not yet. There were other things to worry about.

^^^^

Twenty minutes. Twenty minutes. Twenty minutes.

Twenty minutes.

Saigo stared blankly at Tsuki’s back, still four or five paces ahead of him. She hadn’t looked back, though there had been a couple times when she’d reached up to touch her throat, for reasons inscrutable to Saigo and thus maddeningly curious.

Twenty minutes was long enough, wasn’t it? It wouldn’t be strange to say something now, would it? Twenty minutes—maybe he’d been counting wrong and it had been even longer, in which case he probably should say something.

Saigo sped up, searching for the right words to start with, opening his mouth to call out to Tsuki—

—who stopped suddenly and half-turned to look back at him.

“I—” Saigo started to say.

She cut him off with a look and motioned for him to join her.

Saigo complied, mind flicking through every possible response. Was she mad at him? Did she want to talk about their last conversation or was this about something else entirely? What if—

“There’s an ursine watching us,” Tsuki muttered, not quite looking at him. “They’re up the road a bit.”

“What? Are you sure?” Saigo asked alertly, all previous thoughts vanishing in an instant.

“You think I’d joke about this? Don’t answer that. They’re there for sure. We should be able to get the drop on them easily enough.”

“Let’s…hold off on that for now,” Saigo said, surreptitiously scanning the surrounding forest. “I’d like to try talking to them first. They’re hidden?”

“Not from me,” Tsuki said. “Just keep walking. I’ll nudge you when they’re on your left.”

They started walking again, Saigo staring straight ahead and trying not to let the shivers running down his spine make it to his tail.

He resisted the urge to pick at the stitches across his eyelid. Had they reached the ursine yet? Passed them? Had Tsuki been joking with him after all?

It came as a relief when a sharp elbow dug into his side.

He turned immediately to face the forest, nearly tripping over his own paws. At first glance, the leafless woods appeared ursine-free, but given how serious Tsuki looked right now…

“Uh, hello?” Saigo said cautiously. “Excuse us, we know you’re there. Could we please speak with you?”

Silence.

“Hey, don’t pretend you can’t hear us!” Tsuki barked, making Saigo twitch. “We can see you staring. Stop hiding and answer us already!”

The bare forest stayed obstinately silent, and then—

“Leave.”

The growl seemed to issue forth from the trees themselves. The body of the voice sounded to be no more than twelve feet from the road, but was as invisible as…well, as Tsuki often was.

“We just want to—” Saigo tried.

“I said leave,” the voice growled. “Travelers are welcome to pass through the forest, but they may not linger unless invited, and you have not been invited. Follow the road and do not attempt to speak to us again.”

“Yeah, your huge rock out there already said all that, thanks very much,” Tsuki said, hands on her hips. “For people who claim right of ancestry over this place, you’re sure being creeps about it, sneaking around and spying on travelers.”

“Uh?!”

What had been empty forest in front of Saigo became…not that. The heavy trunk of a tree became an arm, skeletal bushes became a pair of folded legs, and a knot in a branch became a blunt nose—not painted or disguised, but suddenly there in a way they hadn’t been before.

The ursine stood up and shoved himself out into the road, towering over Saigo and Tsuki, hooded eyes glowering and hot breath misting in the air.

“You have a muddy mouth, fox,” he snarled. “Leave now or suffer the consequences for angering the children of Krov.”

Tsuki took a breath.

“You—”

“AH, ha, sorryaboutthatmell she doesn’t mean any of it like that we really just needed to talk to you!” Saigo yelped, jumping in front of Tsuki before she could unleash herself on the ursine. “We’re sorry for bothering you but we have something really important to discuss!”

“Not interested,” the ursine growled, folding his arms. “Once again, leave. The Falidgra Forest is the home of the Krovkin, and if you do not leave I shall make you.”

“I’m, I’m very sorry about that, we really don’t want to bother you, but this is important!” Saigo stuttered. “Please, just give us a minute, it concerns the Stoneblood!”

“Our ancestor is none of your business,” the ursine snapped. “That was your last chance.” He reached out and grabbed Saigo around the arm, his massive hand swallowing the better part of Saigo’s shoulder.

Out of the corner of his eye, Saigo saw Tsuki tense and immediately jumped to his last resort.

“Wait, wait wait wait, please just look at this!” Saigo said, fumbling in his pack with his free hand and almost hurling the stone tablet into the ursine’s face.

The ursine jerked backward, focusing on the tablet. Recognition sparked in his eyes, and he let go of Saigo like he’d been burned.

“That is…where did you get that? How did you get that?” he demanded.

Saigo took a quick step back, holding the tablet like a shield between himself and the ursine.

“I can tell you more if you let us talk to…someone in charge,” he said. “A historian or a leader. You know what this is?”

“Those are Krovian writings!” the ursine snarled, jabbing a claw at the tablet. “Sacred! Precious! Where did you take it from? Little thief!”

“I didn’t steal this!” Saigo said indignantly. “Please, it’s about what’s written on it! Can we talk with someone? It’s an urgent matter!”

The ursine huffed, clenching and unclenching his hands, staring at the tablet.

“…Fine,” he said through gritted teeth, meeting Saigo’s eye. “You will be granted a short audience with the chief. But you will not leave with those writings.”

“Thank you,” Saigo said, letting out a breath. “Again, we don’t mean any harm. We just want to talk.”

“Hmm,” the ursine grunted, shooting a distrustful glare at Tsuki. He turned and shuffled his way back between the trees, then beckoned at them.

“Follow me.”

Chapter Text

Slumber 57, A.R. 372

Chfp

Dead twigs crumbled under Saigo's paws, wet from old snowfall and soft with decay. He kept his eye on the ursine in front of him, the tablet clutched protectively under one arm.

Behind him, Tsuki trudged through the dirt and occasionally kicked at skeletal bushes or clumps of loam. She hadn’t said anything since they’d entered the forest.

“So…are you taking us directly to your…town?” Saigo asked the silent ursine.

“No,” the ursine grunted, his paws leaving heavy prints in the dirt.

“Oh. Some sort of meeting place, then?”

“Mm.”

“I see. May I have your name?”

“…”

“Pardon me, I’m Honto, and this is my cousin, also of the Honto family.”

“…Chek.”

“Nice to meet you. Have you lived here all your life?”

Chek shot Saigo a disgusted look over his shoulder.

“Sorry, too personal, right. This forest must be even more magnificent in renewal.”

Chek looked forward again.

“…Yes.”

Something sharp prodded Saigo in the back, prompting him to look over his own shoulder.

Tsuki glared at him.

Saigo replied with an inquisitive look and a nervous smile.

Tsuki jerked her head at the ursine and silently pounded one fist into the palm of the other, punctuating the motion with a raised eyebrow.

Saigo shook his head quickly, gesturing slightly with the tablet.

Tsuki rolled her eyes and huffed quietly before sticking her hands in her pockets.

Saigo looked forward again, hop-skipping a bit to keep up with Chek’s long, lumbering stride.

“…You mentioned these writings as being ‘Krovian,’” he said. “Do your people have a lot of records left by the Stoneblood? More tablets like this?”

Chek stopped in the middle of the trail and sighed.

“Be quiet. Please,” he said. “I am not a tour guide, and you are an unwelcome guest at best. Know your place.”

“You’re right. Sorry about that. I can’t help being curious,” Saigo said as they started walking again. “Do you often have unwanted visitors?”

“None that get far,” Chek grunted. “You won’t either, should you try anything funny. Now be. Quiet.”

“Sorry. Will do.”

“Yeesh. Looks like somebody picked their berries from the wrong side of the briar patch.”

Saigo blinked, swallowing his surprise. He nodded slightly.

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to disturb you. I’ve been checking in since you were near that big rock. Are you doing all right?”

Saigo nodded again.

“Good. That’s good. This seems to be going surprisingly well. I mean, this crump’s grumpier than a whellum just out of hibernation, but you actually managed to get an audience.”

Saigo shrugged minutely, the familiar weight of Hadvo’s sword shifting on his back. In spite of the situation, the mere sound of Hadvo’s voice made his shoulder relax honestly for the first time since the boulder.

“Oh, don’t be so modest. We both know you’re an artist with the spoken word. You’ll be in and out and best friends with the whole town by the end of the day.”

Saigo grinned shakily, still eyeing the back of Chek’s head. Caught between an unfriendly ursine and a volatile vulpine, he had his own doubts about what kind of circumstances he’d be leaving under.

“Seriously, though. I wanted you to know that I’ll be sticking with you all the way through this. Things…elsewhere have quieted down for now, and this feels like something I should be here for.”

Saigo nodded, the dawn of relief smothered by clouds of concern. If Hadvo felt it best to stick around and keep an eye on things…hmm.

“Just keep calm, Saigo. You’re smart enough to get through this and get what you need.”

Saigo blinked. Smart enough to get through it? He certainly hoped so. Smart enough to get through it without needing to make a quick getaway? Unlikely.

They continued to walk, the forest subtly alive with all of its sleeping sounds—distant creaking, the dull shuffle of loam, muttering wind, the flit and chitter of quasuses, all echoing the voice of the trees. Branches swayed above them, dark against the grey clouds.

Several minutes passed. At some point, Saigo realized he’d been humming under his breath. It was a familiar tune, but only in the sense he’d found himself humming it many times before.

“Are we there yet?” Tsuki asked suddenly, her voice sending an echo of quasuses flitting away through the trees.

“Yes,” Chek said shortly. “Just ahead.”

“Finally,” Tsuki said. “It’s almost like you don’t want people visiting or something.”

Chek growled something under his breath in a language Saigo didn’t recognize, though there was no mistaking the sentiment.

Saigo managed to keep his mouth shut as they reached a hidden clearing amongst the trees, but he was unable to prevent it from dropping open a little at the sight of the round pavilion at its center.

Every single part of it—from the base to the pillars to the gentle slope of its roof—was made of living trees, woven together in a meticulously cultivated dance.

“Wow…” Saigo murmured to himself. In his head, Hadvo made his own quiet noise of appreciation.

“As stand-offish as these people are, you have to admit that’s beautiful.”

Chek lumbered up the steps and motioned at one of a pair of benches grown up from the roots of the floor, thick and sturdy.

“Sit and stay,” he growled. “Quietly.”

Saigo sat down, still clutching the stone tablet.

He looked around at the pavilion. Some sort of established meeting place? It sure looked nice, though it probably took quite a lot of effort to maintain…

The bench—root? branch? brench?—creaked as Tsuki sat down next to him with a sigh.

Across the pavilion, Chek stood with his arms folded, staring at them.

Saigo lowered the tablet to his lap and looked over the inscription. Unfamiliar words stared back up at him, their meaning wrapped up in the paper in his pocket.

“Hey.”

Saigo looked over at Tsuki. She sat on the very edge of the bench, claws digging into the bark, ears up and twitching gently.

“Yes?” Saigo whispered back.

“You’re sure about this?” she muttered, not taking her eyes off Chek. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this place. Seems like they’re really interested in that tablet.”

“We’ve only met the one so far,” Saigo whispered, shrugging off his pack and leaning it against the bench. “I still think this is our best chance. We really might be able to leave here with the next clue without running for our lives.”

Tsuki grunted.

“Whatever you say,” she said. “I don’t trust them.”

Saigo nodded slowly, scanning the clearing with a touch more thoughtfulness. He could see the path they’d come by, barely visible amongst the trees, and nothing but deep forest the rest of the way around—

Movement.

His eye snapped to the side of the clearing opposite from where they’d entered. Something large—no, multiple, people. They came closer at a steady pace, walking near-silently through the sleeping forest.

How had they known he and Tsuki were coming? He hadn’t seen Chek do any kind of magic or send a message or anything.

Saigo’s ears folded back as the newcomers walked solemnly into the clearing. Ursines, three of them, though there was not a shadow of a doubt in Saigo’s mind that the one in the lead was in charge.

She stood half a head taller than the others and wore rich clothing in deep browns and greens, which complemented her silver-brown fur. Heavy lines ran across her stern face, creasing further as she stepped into the pavilion and set her eyes on Saigo and Tsuki. She carried a tall spear in one hand, its head of razor-sharp stone.

She stared at them for a long, uncomfortable moment, then turned to face Chek. She asked him something, in a voice too quiet and a language too unfamiliar for Saigo to make anything out.

Chek replied in a low murmur, eyes downcast. Whatever his answer was, it obviously wasn’t favorable, because the leader ursine raised a hand and cuffed Chek hard across the side of his head.

Chek stumbled from the blow, regained his footing, and bowed before turning away from the pavilion. Head down, he hurried back along the trail to the road, his bulk soon lost to the trees.

The other two ursines took up station at opposite ends of the pavilion, each standing at the base of the stairs, facing inward.

Saigo’s neck prickled, and he stiffened when the leader ursine turned to face him and Tsuki. She looked them up and down again, a frown building on her face.

Trying to put the image of her slapping Chek out of his mind, Saigo stood up and bowed deeply.

“I’m very sorry to intrude on your home, emelle,” he said, straightening up and groaning internally when he saw that Tsuki hadn’t moved. “My name is Honto Gimei, and this is my cousin, Honto Ahri.”

The ursine nodded back, her gaze narrowing at Tsuki before flitting back to Saigo.

“I am Durva, Chief of the Krovkin,” she said, tapping the butt of her spear on the ground. Pebbles and painted chips of wood tied to the spearhead clattered on its shaft. “My first concern is how you came to be here in the first place. Did Chek make himself known to you?”

“Ah…no, we confronted him first,” Saigo said. “He was hiding when my cousin spotted him.”

“I see,” Chief Durva said, her eyes drifting to Tsuki again. “You, cub. How did you spot Chek? Did you have prior knowledge of his position?”

“No. He was hiding and I saw him,” Tsuki said bluntly. “What’s with these questions? You looking to hit him again for other people having sharp eyes?”

“Watch your mouth,” Chief Durva said coolly. “You are here to be answering questions, not asking them.”

Tsuki bristled, but Saigo spoke up before she could retaliate.

“Sorry, we don’t mean to cause offense,” he said quickly. “We just…we have something we need your help with. It’s a simple matter, really.”

“And what would that be?” Chief Durva asked, her eyes already locked on the stone tablet in Saigo’s lap.

“It has to do with this,” Saigo said, holding it up. “These are, uh, Krovian writings, correct? It’s a poem—”

“I can see that,” Chief Durva said, stepping forward. She reached out for the tablet. “You will tell me how you—”

Saigo pulled it back, out of her reach. She halted, eyes narrowing and her hand lingering in the air for a moment before lowering back to her side.

“I can’t tell you much about where it came from, but it wasn’t stolen,” Saigo said. “I was…entrusted with it.”

“The method of acquisition matters little to me,” Chief Durva said tersely. “What is important is this: the tablet you hold is undoubtedly Krovian, written in the hand of the Stoneblood himself. That means it is the rightful property of the Krovkin, and you will hand it over now and leave our home.”

Saigo shook his head, his ears twitching at the sound of the ursine behind him shifting restlessly.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, even at your reasonable request,” he said, trying to keep his voice firm. “I was entrusted with this, so I can’t simply hand it over. I already know what it says, and it’s guided me here for a specific task. I’ll happily part with it once I’ve completed that task.”

“You aim to bargain with our rightful property?” Chief Durva demanded, her grip tightening on her spear. “You are bold but foolish, Honto. Hand over the tablet now, and you will be allowed to leave in peace.”

Behind her, Saigo could see the other ursine moving closer, right up to the edge of the pavilion.

“‘Silent cloud in a crowded glade!’” he blurted. “That’s what we’re looking for, the ‘crowded glade,’ that’s all! Please, do you know anything about it?”

Shock crashed across Chief Durva’s face like a drullum through a house, turning to fury an instant later.

“You dare—”

She caught herself, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, snorting it out through her nose. When she spoke again, her voice was as calm as quenched steel.

“Read it,” she said, nodding at the tablet in Saigo’s hands. “Out loud. Now.”

“So you know about—?”

“Read. It,” Chief Durva interrupted through clenched teeth.

Saigo swallowed and nodded. He pulled the translation out of his pocket, unfolded it, and read aloud:

“Born in death of red and gold

In war standing, a mold of ash

Grown in birth of leaves and soil

Iron in the heart, blood in the stone

Living in the age of fire and blade

Silent cloud in a crowded glade

Sleeping inside and dead without

Wake up again in yell of honor.”

The pavilion was silent except for the gentle scrape and clatter of the forest beyond it.

“…That’s as clear a translation as I could get,” Saigo said. “I’ll hand over the tablet if you’ll just let me visit the ‘crowded glade.’ I’m not even sure what—"

“No.”

Saigo stuttered to a halt, wilting slightly in the face of the smoldering wrath on Chief Durva’s face.

“But—”

“I said NO!” Chief Durva roared, slamming the butt of her spear on the floor. Saigo instinctively threw a hand in front of Tsuki as she jumped to her paws.

“…Chief Durva-emelle,” Saigo said carefully. “We have no ill intentions. I don’t even know what’s special about the glade itself, and I have no intention of telling anyone if I did know. Can you please at least tell us what the crowded glade is?”

Chief Durva took a deep breath.

“Even if you knew and understood its sanctity, it would avail you nothing,” she said, voice as tight as a knotted rope. “You are worthless in such a place. There is nothing else to say. You will hand over the tablet, leave, and never return.”

Saigo stared at her, thoughts moving at a snail’s pace. What did he do? What did he say?

“Is there really no way for us to earn your trust?” he asked, his voice distant in his own ears.

“Trust is wasted on strangers who barge into other’s homes seeking things they have no right to,” Chief Durva said coldly. “I see no reason for this conversation to continue. Now: the tablet.”

She held out her hand. Saigo stared at it for a few seconds, then slowly extended the tablet—

—which disappeared as a flash of white and black and red smacked it out of his hand.

Crakk

The sound of shattering stone echoed across the clearing and disappeared into the sleeping forest, leaving a deafening silence in its wake.

Hand still outstretched, fingers stinging, Saigo watched as the largest piece of tablet—a shard about the size of his thumb pad—clattered to a gentle stop on the far side of the pavilion.

He stared at it for a few more glass-thin seconds, then slowly turned his head to look at Tsuki, who was massaging some feeling back into her hand.

“You…broke it,” he said hoarsely. “Why…why…why would you do that?”

“Better it than your head, so count yourself lucky,” Tsuki said grimly. “What the shatter were you thinking, handing it over to assholes like these?”

“What were you thinking, breaking it?!” Saigo yelled, his voice cracking. “Are you out of your mind?”

“That’s what I was going to ask you!” Tsuki shot back, jabbing him in the arm with a claw. “Were you really going to give up after coming this far?”

“Of course not!” Saigo said, running his hands through his hair, staring frantically at the shattered remnants of the tablet. Shards, oh shards, what, what, what— “Why did you, how could you even think it was okay to…to…”

He trailed off as a background sound began to get louder, edging its way to the front of his consciousness.

Chief Durva hadn’t moved from her position, hand still outstretched, the crumbling remains of the top fourth of the tablet clenched in her fist.

“—gggggggggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr—”

“Shatter me,” Saigo muttered, mostly to himself. “Excuse me, emelle, this is just a, a misunderstanding, we can, uh—”

“—rrrrrrrRRRRRRRAAAAAAA—”

“—um, maybe just, piece it back together…or something?” Saigo rambled, backing up as her fist began to tremble, dropping the last remains of the tablet.

“—AAAAAAARRRRRGGGHyoulittle—”

She trailed off into sputtering, incoherent wrath, clenching her spear with both hands.

“—you, you, you—rrrRRRAAAAGGGGHHH!!”

The sticky shock of the situation shattered with Chief Durva’s bellow, becoming sharp with purpose as she swung her spear straight at Saigo’s head.

“Ah’xa!” Saigo gasped, already halfway through the motion of ducking.

The world went blue, freezing Chief Durva mid-swing. Scrabbling for reason as his instincts screamed at cross-purposes, it was all Saigo could do to grab Tsuki and pull her down after him.

WHOOOM

The spear blasted over their heads, sweeping Saigo’s hair flat in the wind of its wake. He scrambled forward, getting his hand on the nearest part of Chief Durva he could safely reach—one of her paws.

“Ah’ko,” he said, a rush of magic flooding down his arm.

Not quite fast enough. Chief Durva kicked reflexively, slamming Saigo in the chest and flinging him away.

He crashed into one of the pillars of the pavilion, gasping as the breath was driven from his lungs. He slumped down on his back, limbs flailing in a faltering attempt to regain his paws.

Chief Durva took a single threatening step forward, raising her spear—and crumpled as the spell took effect, eyes rolling into the back of her head. She collapsed on the floor of the pavilion with a thunderous THAM, spear clattering to the ground, the hollow clacking of stones and sticks mingling with the furious roars of the other two ursines.

Tsuki leapt to her paws, staring at the fallen Chief and then over at Saigo. Without a word, she disappeared.

“Oh SHARDS oh SHARDS Saigo get up! Come on, get up, get up!”

A hand tugged on Saigo’s arm, but he shook his head vaguely, trying to remember how to breathe. His mouth tasted of sour and thistles, all the way down his throat—

The pavilion trembled as the two other Krovkin pounded up the steps. The far ursine rushed to Chief Durva’s side, while the other loomed over Saigo, face shadowed.

“Maybe…we can…” Saigo wheezed, pushing himself up on his elbows. “Talk this…out…?”

“Saigo, come on, get up, use a spell or something!”

The ursine reached down, hand filling Saigo’s vision—

Tsuki blinked back into existence between Saigo and the ursine a quarter of a second before her open palm slammed into the ursine’s stomach.

The ursine folded like a fourth-hand shirt, eyes bulging, wheezing open-mouthed. This, unfortunately, brought her within range of Tsuki’s knee, which crashed straight up into her jaw with a sound that made Saigo’s entire head throb in sympathy.

The ursine shot back up, standing perfectly still for one crystalline moment. Then, like a great tree, she toppled backward down the stairs, coming to a rest at the bottom in a crumpled heap.

“Get up already, will you?!” Tsuki said, stepping between Saigo and the last ursine, who was just now rising to his own paws, watching them warily.

“Right…working on it,” Saigo rasped, rolling over to his stomach and pushing himself up. His entire upper body throbbed, and Chief Durva hadn’t even been trying. He’d have some lovely bruises to look forward to tomorrow, if he lived to see it.

“How are you feeling? Not too hurt? I think the ‘talking things out’ option is gone and, uh, might never come back, so…”

“Yeah…got the feeling,” Saigo grunted, staggering to his paws.

“What?” Tsuki asked, glancing over her shoulder just as the ursine charged, arms outstretched.

“AAHH FOCUS!” Saigo yelped, pointing at the ursine.

Tsuki darted forward, ducking just as the ursine swiped a heavy-clawed hand across what would have been her entire torso. Practically underneath him, she snapped one leg forward, driving her paw into the ursine’s shin with pinpoint precision.

Saigo heard something crack, and the ursine roared in pain, falling forward as his leg gave out. Tsuki stepped to the side, neatly avoiding his crushing mass, and then took two quick strides up to his head to bring an elbow down on the back of his skull.

The ursine went limp.

Tsuki straightened up, panting, and looked over at Saigo.

“Now what?” she asked.

Chapter Text

Slumber 57, A.R. 372

Saigo sucked in several deep, ragged breaths, looking across the stricken pavilion.

Chief Durva, snoring between the benches, the shattered remains of the tablet lying around her. One ursine on her back just outside the pavilion, unconscious and probably missing a few teeth. The other with a fractured shin and a massive headache whenever he woke up.

Saigo looked back at Tsuki.

“What do you mean, ‘now what?’” he asked, his voice shaking. “This…oh, shards, I really thought we could do it. What were you thinking?”

“Hey, I only took these two out because you went down after a single kick to the ribs,” Tsuki snapped, massaging her elbow. “Besides, you attacked this…Chief or whatever first.”

“No, she attacked us first because you destroyed the tablet out of nowhere!” Saigo said, pulling his ears down over his face. “Why would you even do something like that?!”

“Well, what were you trying to give it away for?” Tsuki demanded. “That wasn’t theirs for the taking, Krovkin or not! You worked hard to get that thing!”

“Sure, thank you, but you didn’t have to break it!” Saigo yelled. “We could have just let it be and walked out none the worse for wear and then snuck back this way later and gotten it back! You can turn invisible! Don’t you think that might have been easier than destroying our only bargaining chip?!”

Tsuki stared at him, tail falling still, mouth ever-so-slightly agape as she mouthed the words ‘turn invisible’ to herself.

“…But…wha—how was I supposed to know you had a plan like that?” she finally said, ears flicking back. “You could have—you could have told me you had another idea! I just—gah! Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because I didn’t think about it until I was handing over the tablet, which I was handing over so the ursine behind us wouldn’t jump us!” Saigo said. “So I’m sorry for not having the time to tell you, but I didn’t expect you to just…break it!”

He subsided, panting and shivering. Tsuki stared at the ground, fists clenched, shoulders hunched.

Saigo turned away and sat down on the bench, pressing his palms into his eyes and rubbing them. Oh, shards, of course now was the perfect time for a headache…Sul’s tears, what did he do? What could he even do?

He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Sorry,” he muttered, not looking back at Tsuki. “I shouldn’t have yelled. Are you all right from…the fighting?”

There was no reply at first, just the gurgle of labored breathing from the unconscious ursine at the bottom of the pavilion stairs.

“…I’m fine,” Tsuki eventually said, voice small. “Just sore. Nothing bad.”

“That’s good,” Saigo said. “Okay. I think I under—I think I…can see why…you broke the tablet. What…do you think we should do now?”

“Why are you asking me?”

“Because I want to know what you think,” Saigo said. “I’m not—no, I am still upset about the tablet, but we can’t change what happened. Also, this kind of thing is more your specialty, you know? I…my plan’s not going to work anymore, so I just…want to know what you think we should do.”

Tsuki was silent for a while.

Saigo stared at the ground, willing himself not to cry. There were a few pieces of tablet by his paws, the largest having perhaps half a letter visible on it. No amount of glue was going to fix that…

Shatter.

He really wanted to cry.

“You’ve got the whole poem written down?” Tsuki asked suddenly.

“Uh…yes. Yes, I do,” Saigo said. “I’ve got a copy of the original text, too. Why?”

“Maybe…maybe we could just go looking for the glade right now,” Tsuki said. “We know it’s definitely a place they’re familiar with, given how they reacted. We can…follow the trail they came by. It probably leads to their home."

Saigo rubbed his hands together slowly.

“Hadvo?” he mumbled.

“…I dunno, Saigo. This is a pretty big mess already. I can’t say I like the idea, but it might be better to just get it over with and move on as fast as possible. I doubt these people are gonna be friendly when they wake up. Or ever again. It’s up to you.”

Saigo nodded. Reaching to his side, he flipped open the top of his pack and pulled out the spell bracers hidden near the top.

He slipped them on and stood up, pulling the buckles taut before digging through his pack again.

He shouldn’t need anything else…he’d put the Starseer’s spectacles in the box he’d dug up from the ashen ruins a couple weeks ago, along with the metal eye. Those would stay in the pack, and as for the pack itself…

Saigo buckled the top down and slung it on his back, tightening the straps. Some part of him wanted to hide it somewhere in the likely event things went wrong…but no. He’d have to risk bringing it with him.

He checked the lay of the sword on his back, wishing he had some proper way to hide that. Of all the things to make him recognizable…

He rubbed his face with both hands, screaming silently into the void in his head. He was really going to do this, wasn’t he? He was going to run headfirst into a village of territorial ursines to look for a secret glade he didn’t know the location of and which the ursines might very well kill to keep secret.

“I’ll be with you the whole way. It’s going to be all right, Saigo.”

“You sure?”

“…Well, no. I mean, this is risky. Probably the most reckless thing we’ve done yet. Maybe. But…I dunno. I’m just gonna be here no matter what, all right?”

“…Okay,” Saigo muttered, dragging his hands down his face and shaking his head vigorously.

All right. No more time to waste.

He turned around.

Tsuki hadn’t moved from her spot near the center of the living tree pavilion. She looked up when he turned around, face tight.

“Were you…talking to someone?” she asked, fists relaxing a little. “I…thought I heard you say something.”

Saigo looked at her, weighing the answers.

“…Yeah,” he said. “I was talking to Hadvo. He’s worried about us being safe.”

“Really?”

Saigo nodded wordlessly.

Tsuki looked away.

“Okay then,” she said. “Are we doing this or what?”

“I think we are,” Saigo sighed. “Just…please don’t hurt anyone too bad. All we need to do is find the crowded glade and avoid the residents as much as possible.”

“Fine,” Tsuki said, turning away and marching down the opposite side of the pavilion. “I can smell the town on the chief. Doesn’t seem too far away. Make sure to keep up.”

“I’ll do my best,” Saigo said, following her. He stepped off the pavilion, glancing at the fallen ursines. They had maybe two minutes before Chief Durva woke up, and once she did…

No, not even that. He couldn’t think about that. He had to focus on getting where he needed to be, first. Nothing else before that.

They began walking up the trail, Tsuki in the lead.

Saigo double-checked that the sword on his back was properly secured, fiddling with his spell bracers.

Tsuki sped up.

Saigo stayed with her, walking swiftly.

She started to jog.

Saigo kept pace, scents growing stronger in his nose; shaped wood, cut stone, ursine fur, growing heavier by the second but nearly drowned out by the sharpness of cedar and snow.

They jogged for a couple of minutes, and Saigo began to see different shapes through the trees. Broad structures. Moving figures. Animal pens, fenced gardens, beehives.

Somewhere far behind them, the faintest echo of a roar of fury tickled Saigo’s ears.

Tsuki broke into a full run, which Saigo immediately matched. His eye skittered back and forth as the village came into full view, too fast, too soon, wait wait no no no they should have talked about this more—

They burst from the tree line and into the true, hidden home of the Krovkin.

For several long, strained seconds, the town moved at a standstill. Saigo caught glimpses of ursines walking, cubs playing, tulya towing small carts as if nothing were out of the ordinary—as if he and Tsuki were dashing through a life-sized painting.

There was no alarm, at first. Saigo caught gasps of surprise and confused grunts, coupled with the occasional chuff of curiosity, but no open voices.

It didn’t last long.

The first exclamation, as bodies and buildings and trees blurred, came as an enraged—

“HEY!”

—swiftly followed by a—

“STOP THEM!”

“Ohshit.”

Roars of warning and alarm flooded Saigo’s senses and tremored all the way down to his paws, lending him an extra burst of speed and pulling ahead of Tsuki.

Saigo glanced around desperately as he and Tsuki dodged around a large fruit stand, trying to find some small clue about where the ‘crowded glade’ could be. It would probably be removed from the village, and Chief Durva had mentioned ‘sanctity,’ which suggested it might be important enough to be under guard…

“Look for a trail,” he gasped at Tsuki as they hurdled a cart in the middle of the road. She nodded, breathing heavily, face set grimly.

“Duck!”

Saigo dropped, sliding forward along the dirt with one hand trailing behind him. Something in the darkness on his right side whooshed over his head, clipping the top of the bundled sword and making it jerk.

He came back up onto his paws, flailing a little bit before regaining his balance. He glanced in Tsuki’s direction just as another ursine leapt in front of their forward charge, which she responded to by leaping into the air and planting both paws in their forehead.

The ursine toppled over, and Tsuki tucked into a roll, popping back up without losing a step.

Wood thumped under their paws as they dashed across a bridge spanning a gurgling stream. Saigo glanced over his shoulder and saw more than a dozen ursines hot on their tails, not nearly as fast but a huge problem if they caught up.

“Eyes forward!” Tsuki snapped.

Saigo jolted, looked ahead, and saw two more ursines bearing down on them.

“Ah’xa!” he panted, ducking and scrambling around the side of the suddenly frozen ursine. He aimed a hand at the other just as the blue began to leak out of the air. “Ah’nelxe!”

A clump of writhing green vines exploded through the air, slapping into the ursine right as Tsuki swept their legs. The ursine dropped to the ground, the spell lashing their arms to their sides.

“I had him!” Tsuki complained.

“No time,” Saigo said shortly, casting around for the slightest hint of a viable trail. The road split ahead of them which way which way—

“Go right. I…there’s something that way.”

“Okay,” Saigo said, taking the right fork. “You’re sure?”

“Sure about what?” Tsuki demanded.

“Yes. Just trust me.”

“Uh-huh. Nothing!” Saigo called back at Tsuki. “Just follow!”

“Do you know where it is?”

“Nope!”

The sounds of pursuit were growing louder, but Saigo didn’t dare look back again. Forward—he had to keep going forward, because if his brain caught up with him he’d be dead for sure.

His lungs burned. Large buildings on either side of them, more ursines, dodge, keep running more buildings trees noise pounding they had to be getting close where was it—

“On your right again!”

“Over there!” Tsuki said at the same time.

Saigo threw out a hand and dug his claws into the side of a nearby building, swinging himself ninety degrees around the corner and launching straight along a thin path.

Ahead of him, a stone archway, bordering the deep forest, that had to be it, he could see engravings, not too far now they were almost there—

“LOOK OU—!”

Tsuki’s cry came too late, and the shaft of a spear came humming out of nowhere to slam into Saigo’s side, hurling him straight into her.

They tumbled, the world a blur of grey and brown and white and pain, stabbing along his ribs and arm.

Saigo’s body came to a halt, but the sky above kept swirling, filling his ears with a sticky buzz. He tried to breathe—he couldn’t breathe—he couldn’t tell if he was breathing—but his lungs felt like they’d been stuffed with thorn-filled cotton.

No…no…he had to get up he had to escape, he had to keep moving, he was almost there, almost to the next clue and then he could get away from the forest stop causing damage he was so close he’d come too far he was so close…

A blurry shape appeared above him. He tried to focus on it, but his eye refused to discern anything beyond its silhouette.

It raised something in the fuzziest definition of a hand, and—

^^^^

Sposhh

Saigo gasped, sitting bolt upright, cold shock shuddering down his spine. He spat out a mouthful of icy water, ears dripping.

Then the pain hit him.

“Guhhhh…” he groaned, folding up and cradling his throbbing skull. “Aaaarrrgghh…kahvuh’s bones my head…”

“Get up.”

“I would very much like not to, please,” Saigo hissed, still clutching at the pulsing lump of pain attached to his neck. Stand up? He thought not.

“Get up.”

Someone grabbed a handful of his back and shoulder and wrenched him up against something hard and cold.

“Ow…” Saigo muttered, blinking away the dark spots dancing in front of what little vision he had regained. “Sorry, I seem to have misplaced my…legs?”

“Your legs are there, though it can be arranged to have them made truly useless. Now get up.”

The person holding him shook him, then dropped him back to the ground.

Saigo let himself lie there for a few seconds, waiting for the pain to completely suffuse his body. Then, as slowly as he could reasonably manage, he rolled over onto his hands and knees and gingerly pushed himself up.

“On your paws. All the way.”

“Can we….oooghh…sorry…could we maybe…compromise?”

“Up.”

“Okay…sorry, sorry…” Saigo said, hissing under his breath. He got a grip on the cold, hard things in front of him and used them to pull himself the rest of the way up.

He raised his head, staring blearily at what he was holding, the pieces very slowly clicking together.

Ah.

Iron bars. Like…the prison kind. Yes. Like those. Exactly like those.

He raised his head a little higher. There was a wall on the other side of the bars. It seemed to be made of cloth.

It moved aside to reveal a wall of similar appearance, but farther away and made up of more expensive-looking cloth in rich greens and browns.

He looked up and saw the top of the wall. It had a face. A distinctly familiar and ice-cold furious face.

“Oh,” Saigo said. “Um…hello, Chief Durva-emelle. Nice to see you’re okay.”

She huffed, her breath steaming in the chilly air.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” she said archly, staring down at him with an expression that suggested anything he chose to say would be worth about as much as a rodentine’s recycled claw clippings.

Saigo stared at her, wracking his brain for the appropriate answer.

“…Did you manage to recover the tablet?” he asked.

She tilted her head slightly.

“It is being…repaired,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. “Do you have anything to say concerning your…complete and utter contempt for sense and decency?”

“Uh…nothing that would make it better, probably,” Saigo said. “Was anyone hurt?”

Chief Durva raised an eyebrow.

“Not…badly,” she said. “Some minor injuries, a myriad of superficial wounds. I am confident those that suffered such will be satisfied with your fate.”

“Right…” Saigo said, looking down. He could see stone beneath his paws, and everywhere else in his peripheral vision. Some kind of cave, most likely. “Was…I’m sorry, was breaking my legs going to be part of that?”

“Not officially, and only if you decide to do something foolish again,” Chief Durva said. “No, it is our hope that you will, at minimum, be sent to serve in the shards. The Vigil will collect the evidence and take statements before transporting you to await judgement.”

Saigo nodded absently…and then looked up sharply as her words sank in, spots dancing in his vision.

“The—the Vigil?” he said, blinking painfully. “You—you’re handing me over to the Vigil?”

Chief Durva gave him a scornful look.

“You are an even greater fool than I thought if you expected anything less,” she said. “Yes, the Vigil. A message has already been sent to the nearest tower.”

Saigo swallowed, heart sinking.

“Right. Yes. The Vigil,” he said hollowly, wondering if he’d be lucky enough to end up merely scouting the shards once the Vigil saw through his disguise. “That, ah…that makes sense. Does this kind of thing…happen often?”

“An outsider assaulting the chief and her aides and careening through our home and loosing magic every which way in an attempt to force their way through to our most precious and carefully guarded secret? No,” Chief Durva said coldly. “It does not.”

“Aha. I thought so,” Saigo said, resting his head on the bars. “Um…what about my…cousin? Is she all right?”

“The vulpine?” Chief Durva said, a sneer wrapped up tight in her voice. “She is in a separate cell. She will share your fate, presumably. An undeserved mercy, considering her obscene act of blasphemy.”

“Could I talk to her?”

Chief Durva glared at him. Not to say she hadn’t been glaring at him the whole time. It was just…a glarier glare, with extra glare in it.

“Do you truly believe—”

“Right, no, sorry, no chance of that, naturally,” Saigo said quickly. “Sorry for asking. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“You may sit there quietly and await the Vigil,” Chief Durva said. “You will be kept under constant guard, and if you try anything remotely suspicious, they will simply have to settle for delivering your broken body to the local Justice Council.”

Saigo nodded slowly.

“…I’m sorry,” he said, meeting the chief’s gaze. “I really am.”

Chief Durva looked at him for a moment more, then turned and swept away down the stony passage without another word.

Saigo slumped to the ground, closing his eyes and rubbing his head.

Well…

Shards.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Slumber 57, A.R. 372

“See anything?” Saigo murmured, his eye tracing now-familiar grooves in the rough-hewn rock wall in front of him.

“Rock. Iron bars. Fortified cell door. More rock. And, of course, our friend on the other side.”

“Yeah, thought so…” Saigo sighed under his breath, watching a few flakes of rock tremble across the floor as a result of his exhale. “Can you see Tsuki anywhere?”

“Not from where you’re at. If you move around the cell, I can get a better look.”

“Okay.”

Saigo sat up, his cheek prickling from where it had been pressed against the ground. He stood up and stretched, groaning as his head throbbed anew.

How long had it been? A few hours at least. The guard had yet to change. He hadn’t been fed, either.

Everything about his cage told him he was deep in a cave, from the rough walls to the dark tunnels beyond the bars that offered no suggestion of natural light, near or far.

His side still ached from the lingering double-blow of Chief Durva’s kick and a spear haft some twelve minutes after. On the other side of the bars, the hulking form of a silent ursine watched him, eyes glittering dully.

Saigo hadn’t been able to get a single word out of him since his initial chattiness demanding Saigo stand up to address the chief. The only sign of life he showed was a constant growl that rose and fell in audibility depending on what Saigo did around the cell.

Avoiding the ursine’s persistent glare—and mentally dubbing him Growly—Saigo walked slowly around the cramped room, humming to himself.

Okay, think think think. He couldn’t do much while constantly under watch—not that he would be able to do much if Growly wasn’t watching his every move.

The bars were too closely spaced for him to slip through. They’d taken away his spell vest, the bracers, the sword, and everything else besides his clothes. They’d separated him from Tsuki. There was practically nothing in his small cell besides a foul-smelling bucket if he needed to relieve himself.

The fact he’d gone through the same list some forty times already wasn’t lost on him, but something had to pop out at him sooner or later.

“…Sorry, Saigo, I’m not seeing her. These walls are pretty thick.”

Saigo nodded quietly, veering away from the cell door as the background growl rose a few notches.

He sat down with his back against the wall, facing the bars, head leaned back and eye closed.

“What do you think?” he muttered, trying not to move his mouth.

“I think we’ve gotten out of worse situations. You feeling all right?”

Saigo shuffled around until he was facing the wall.

“Yes, surprisingly,” he whispered. “For one, the Vigil might be on their way, but they’re not actually here yet, so, major improvement from last time. Second, there’s something comforting about knowing you’ve probably done the worst possible thing to a group of people. There’s nothing left to do to make them angrier.”

“Shards. Usually it’s a fight to get you out of the empty jug, so…good to hear? You sure they didn’t hit you on the head too hard?”

“I think I’ve been hit there too often,” Saigo muttered, probing the wall for cracks with his eye. “Maybe I’m developing a resistance.”

“…I don’t think that’s something you build resistance to. You probably shouldn’t try, either. Got any ideas about getting out of here yet?”

“Hope for a stroke of luck,” Saigo whispered. “That or wait for Tsuki to get out first and hope we repeat our first meeting. With less knives, ideally.”

“…All right then. I’ll try to figure something out in the meantime. Maybe there’s a way to fiddle with the door. I’ll take a closer look.”

“What about the sword? Have you checked around it?"

“That’s a no-go. It’s in a storage room with the rest of your things. I checked as far as I could move, but there’s nothing but an empty tunnel on the other side of the door.”

“Okay. I hope they didn’t see the blade when they took it off me, but I’m sure you made sure of that.”

Hadvo’s prompt silence set off alarm bells in Saigo’s head.

“Hadvo? Did they see it?”

“Not…exactly.”

“What do you mean, ‘not exactly?’ ‘Did they see it’ is a pretty straightforward ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ Hadvo!”

“It’s complicated, all right? I…I might have panicked a bit when you went down.”

“Did you do something?”

“Nnnnoo…not really, no. Nothing dangerous. Or long-lasting. I don’t think they know I’m here. But they’re wary of the sword. Didn’t try to unsheathe it. Didn’t seem to want to talk about it much, either.”

“Okay, but what did you do?”

“One of them looked like they were going to rough you up a bit, so I…gave them a warning. Just, you know, a light push. Enough to make them think twice. I didn’t pull the sword on them or anything.”

“…And they just put the sword with the rest of my things?”

“…Yeah.”

Hadvo’s tone made it clear he felt he had shared enough.

Saigo decided to respect it, just this once.

A few minutes passed with Saigo running various scenarios through his head, trying to figure out if he had any sort of edge over the Krovkin. How far away was the nearest Vigil tower? How long would it take for them to get here? How would they prioritize something like this? What exactly had the Krovkin said?

His ears twitched when a new sound echoed into the cell.

Pawsteps. Heavy ones.

He shuffled around to face the bars again, watching closely as a new ursine came into view.

Growly didn’t look up.

“What?” he grunted.

“Shift change. What else?” the new ursine said. “You’re off duty.”

Growly glanced, up, brow wrinkling.

“Why you?” he said. “I thought Breg was my relief.”

“He asked me to take his shift. Besides, Durva-mell probably wants someone who’s personally seen what this one is capable of.”

Saigo peered closer at the ursine, a chill running down his spine when he saw their face. The last time he’d gotten a good look at it, Tsuki had kneed it in the jaw.

“Hahhh…fine, if Breg asked you,” Growly sighed, standing up and shooting Saigo a parting glare. “Watch him carefully. He talks to himself.”

With that, Saigo’s guard stumped away down the curved tunnel. The new ursine took his place, sitting down with a groan and staring through the bars.

Saigo stared back. Silence filled the little space for several seconds. He noted the color of the ursine’s fur—a pale walnut brown, almost blonde—and the scar above her left eye. Her hair was braided into thick cords.

“Uh…sorry for what my cousin did to you back at the pavilion,” Saigo finally said. “No…permanent damage?”

“I’m fine,” the ursine said, rubbing her jaw. “My pride is more wounded than anything. Your cousin was fierce. I should not have underestimated her.”

Saigo’s ears pricked. Not quite the answer he’d been expecting. He leaned forward.

“True, she’s very dangerous when she wants to be,” he said. “I know it’s probably too late to ask, but may I know your name?”

“I am Olen,” the ursine said. “Your name is Honto, yes?”

“Yes,” Saigo lied. “Uh…if it’s not too much trouble, could I know the time? I can’t tell with this cave. This is a cave, right?”

An amused smile flickered across Olen’s face, so fast Saigo might simply have imagined it.

“Yes, this is a cave,” she said, face stern again. “We keep trespassers here, but usually only until the Vigil or Peacekeepers come to collect them. It is carved into the iron hills of the deep forest. As for the time, we are just now entering the fourth cycle of the fifty-first.”

“Oh, halfway through the night, thank you,” Saigo said, nodding. “And…I’m sorry, what’s an iron hill? I’m guessing that’s different from a regular hill?”

“There are discrepancies, yes,” Olen said, settling back against the wall. “It is written that this hill and its siblings were pulled up from the depths of the earth by the Stoneblood. Rich in iron, they became the source of many, many weapons for the Insurgents, invaluable in their war against the Saisho.”

“That’s…wow,” Saigo said, blinking and looking at the walls with renewed interest. “That’s amazing. When you say written, do you mean on more of those stone tablets? Krovian writings?”

Olen did not answer right away, instead tilting her head at Saigo.

“You ask many questions, Honto-ell,” she observed. “In my experience, people who face judgement for crimes as serious as yours rarely have room in their heads for intellectual curiosity.”

Saigo’s neck prickled. There was a question there, buried in the folds of a statement.

“…I’m sorry if my questions offend, mell. I can’t help being curious,” he said carefully. “I don’t know much of your experience, but in my own, it’s a lot more difficult to not ask questions, regardless of the situation.”

“Have you often found yourself in this kind of situation?” Olen said, raising an eyebrow at him. “That might explain your apparent ease, which suggests to me you are more dangerous than I thought.”

Saigo grimaced.

“I wouldn’t call myself dangerous,” he said. “I’ve always considered myself more of a nuisance.”

“‘Always?’” Olen echoed. “So you have done this kind of thing before.”

“No, I—well, not exactly,” Saigo said hastily. “I mean—okay, fine, I might have a tendency to get into places others don’t want me to, but it’s not out of malice or anything. I just…there’s things I need to know. I’ve never gone out of my way to cause trouble. It just seems to…happen.”

Olen nodded slowly, eyes glittering strangely as she looked at him.

“Needing to know but not wanting to cause trouble,” she said. “Two ideals that do not work well together, even in the best of circumstances. Did you come here with these questions thinking there would not be trouble?”

“I hoped there wouldn’t be trouble, but I’ve come to expect it,” Saigo said, his whiskers twitching. Something about this conversation felt…off. “I’m…I’m sorry, but all these questions—are these things Chief Durva-emelle wants to know? I got the impression my fate was as good as decided.”

Olen very distinctly didn’t make a face, in a way that made Saigo certain she was making a face on the inside.

“Durva-mell is…not altogether concerned with your motives,” she said. “Nor the circumstances by which you came into possession of a Krovian tablet. Whatever motivation or intent you had, it does not change the fact that you demanded an audience, forced your way into our home, and attempted to intrude upon a sacred place.”

“I—no, yes, that’s true,” Saigo sighed. “My intentions aside, I did cause a lot of trouble, and I’m sorry about that. Can I ask why you want to know, then, if you’re not here on Chief Durva-emelle’s behalf?”

Olen leaned forward, her stool creaking.

“Let me put it like this, Honto-ell,” she said, lowering her voice. “You and your cousin traveled into our forest. You saw and confronted one of our scouts. You came to us with a Krovian tablet and a reasonable idea of what it said. You incapacitated the chief and her two escorts in less than a minute, myself among them. And, from what is said, you made your way directly to the entrance of one of the most secret places we guard, which I heard you earlier claim you had no knowledge of. And you say you have questions?”

Saigo’s tail flicked, and he nodded thoughtfully.

“…Okay, I see where you’re coming from,” he said. “I’d be curious too. Is that the reason you lied about Breg asking you to take his shift?”

Olen blinked at him.

“H—”

She stopped herself and thought for a few seconds.

“No, I will ask,” she finally said. “How did you know?”

Saigo shook his head.

“It was more of a guess,” he said. “You said most prisoners don’t ask a lot of questions. In my experience, most jailers don’t answer them.”

Olen chuffed softly.

“Ha. Yes, that’s true,” she said, very nearly smiling. “I suppose they don’t. I’ll admit it, Honto-ell: I, like you, am curious. How did you come into possession of a Krovian tablet? You insisted it was not stolen. Did someone give it to you?”

Saigo hesitated.

“…Not exactly,” he said. “I was…led to it. By the person who hid it. I think.”

“Hmm. And who was that, exactly?”

“I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you.”

Olen gave him a level stare.

“Try me,” she said.

Saigo hesitated again. All right, what was the worst that could happen? She would think he was crazy? She wouldn’t believe him?

Nothing new, then.

“Uh…well, I’m pretty certain it was the ghost of the Starseer,” he said.

Olen stood up abruptly, her stool clattering to the ground.

Saigo started, his heart jumping at the sudden motion.

“Is that the truth?” Olen demanded, coming right up to the bars. “A ghost? Of the Starseer? You’re telling the truth?”

Saigo also stood, pressing his back into the wall.

“As far as I understand it, yes,” he said warily. “I—there was a situation—yes, I’m certain it was her. She brought me to it.”

Olen gripped the bars of the cell.

“Where was this? When did it happen?” she asked urgently. “How was the tablet hidden?”

“It was—I don’t—I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to tell you,” Saigo said. “Not unless I know…why. I’m going to be handed over to the Vigil. You’re not even supposed to be guarding me, right?”

Olen glanced over her shoulder down the hallway, then looked back at Saigo. She dropped her voice to a whisper.

“A different question, then,” she said quietly. “What did you intend to do at the grave of the Stoneblood?”

“His grave? Oh…oh, that makes a lot of sense,” Saigo said. “No wonder everyone was so mad. Um…I didn’t really have much of a plan. I was going to figure it out when I got there, based on the last lines of the poem. It said something about a…a ‘yell of honor.’”

Olen scrutinized him for a few more seconds, then straightened up. She moved over to the cell door, produced a key, and inserted it into the lock.

“Hold on, wait wait wait!” Saigo said, retreating into the farthest corner from the door. “Look, I’ve been as honest as I can be and I’m as good as dead when the Vigil take me to the shards, so please don’t—”

“Quiet,” Olen grunted, swinging the door open. “Come quickly. If you try to run away, that will make everything much more difficult for both of us. You still want to visit the Stoneblood’s grave, don’t you?”

Saigo squinted at her.

“I do, yes…” he said slowly. “Are you…offering to take me there?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I can explain on the way, but now is the best opportunity we have, so we cannot waste it standing here.”

“You’re not trying to bait me into an attempted escape so you have an excuse to kill me on the spot, are you?”

Olen sighed.

“No, Honto-ell, I am not,” she said. “What I am doing is taking an incredible risk for curiosity’s sake. Seeing what you were carrying and hearing at least a portion of your story…as outlandish as it sounds, you do not strike me as insane or malicious.”

“Okay…but what if I’m just really good at hiding it?”

“Saigo, I can’t believe I have to tell you this again, but PLEASE stop trying to convince people not to trust you.”

“I don’t believe that’s the case,” Olen said, jerking her head at Saigo and stepping away from the open door. “Now come. We don’t have much time.”

Saigo walked over to the open door, still eyeing Olen warily. He hesitated in front of it, peering out at the empty hallway to his right.

He looked back at Olen.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked. “If you’re actually offering to help me, things are not going to go well once you get found out.”

Olen nodded solemnly.

“They most certainly won’t,” she said, ushering Saigo out of the cell and locking the door behind him. “But compared to my own reasons for doing this, I’m hoping the payoff is much greater than the price.”

“What exactly are you hoping will happen?” Saigo asked. “You sound like you’re expecting to get caught.”

Olen grinned humorlessly, unhooking a windowed lantern from the wall outside the cell.

“Oh, I have no doubt my treason will be discovered,” she said, leading the way down the tunnel. “It would be foolish to expect anything less. As for my hopes…there is an old Krovkin belief, the essence of which boils down to this: ‘we are his and he is ours.’”

Saigo repeated the phrase in his head.

“…In reference to the Stoneblood and the Krovkin?” he asked.

Olen nodded.

“Correct,” she said, still striding swiftly along the tunnel. “We have great pride in our ancestry, as anyone of Kaiko would understand. However, I am of the opinion we have focused too much on the idea that ‘he is ours’ and not enough on the ‘we are his.’”

“I hope you’ll excuse me for saying this,” Saigo said, skipping slightly to keep up with her, “but I don’t really see how releasing a dangerous prisoner is going to help with that.”

“You are excused, and believe me, I would not have released you on that ideal alone. There is another and extremely significant force that led me to this decision.”

“What’s that?”

“I really want to see what happens if I bring you to the Stoneblood’s grave.”

Saigo considered this.

“…I can get behind that,” he said. “I’ll say this, too: the odds of something happening are pretty sharding high. I just can’t promise it’s going to be a good thing.”

“Yours must be an interesting life,” Olen grunted. “You will have to tell me more sometime. For now, though, you should be quiet and stay close behind me. We’ll retrieve your things first.”

“Okay,” Saigo whispered, falling back behind her.

A shiver ran through his body as silence filtered back into the tunnels, cut with the sound of Olen’s heavy pawsteps.

It wasn’t long before she stopped, abruptly enough that Saigo walked right into her broad back. She turned and raised an eyebrow at him, then unhooked the keys off her belt and inserted them into a door in the wall.

“Your things are in here,” she murmured, pushing the door open. “You are a spell-user? Scrap?”

“I…yes. How do you know about that?” Saigo whispered, stepping into the small room. There wasn’t much to see besides a single shelf and a small table, which had Saigo and Tsuki’s things thrown on top of it in a heap. The exception was the sword, which had been stood up by itself in the farthest corner from the door.

“Like yourself, I am something of a question-asker,” Olen said, as Saigo slipped on his spell vest and bracers and pulled on his pack. “That is all I can say at the moment. Don’t forget your cousin’s things.”

“Hm? C—oh, right, yes,” Saigo said, securing Hadvo’s sword on his back. He scooped up Tsuki’s bag and folded up her bandolier, taking care not to displace the knives.

“She is not your cousin, is she?”

Saigo looked at Olen in surprise, his ears perking up before laying back.

“…No, she’s not,” he admitted. “It’s a convenient story. We’re more like…allies.”

“Not friends?”

“It’s hard to say,” Saigo said, shrugging. “I’m not sure where I stand with her.”

“On her nerves?”

Saigo flicked an ear, suppressing a grin.

“I see,” Olen said, nodding. “Well, it’s good to have at least one person there for you. She certainly appeared to have your interests at heart, even if her actions were…questionable.”

“I…yes,” Saigo said, stepping out of the small room. “Speaking of which, do you know where she’s being held?”

“Yes. Follow me,” Olen said, locking the door behind him.

Olen’s massive frame filled nearly the whole tunnel, cutting off the light of the lantern as Saigo kept close behind her. On a few occasions, they passed other tunnels, curving into the depths of the stone hill.

Saigo was just beginning to wonder if Olen had been telling the truth about knowing where to go when she stopped suddenly at the mouth of a new tunnel. At the far end, light flickered around a corner.

She turned to Saigo.

“This may be difficult,” she murmured, keeping her eyes on the faint light. “There will be someone guarding the cell, and I did not plan this far ahead. Do you have any useful spells?”

Saigo ran through his spells in his head, absently touching their corresponding pockets on his vest and bracers.

“…A few, yes, but nothing that will give us more than a few minutes head start,” he whispered back. “I could try to put them to sleep, but that doesn’t last long and they’ll definitely notice what happened when they wake up.”

“Ah, the same spell you used on Durva-mell,” Olen said, nodding. “That may be our best solution. I’ll try to get them away from the cell by myself first, but if that doesn’t work, give me a prod when you’re ready and I’ll distract them to give you a moment’s edge. Until then, stay behind me.”

“Okay.”

Olen led the way down the passage. Saigo stuck close as she rounded the corner, keeping in the depths of her shadow, which was not all that difficult considering the stark differences in their heights and widths.

“Olen? What are you doing over here?”

“Patrolling,” Olen said gruffly. “I wanted to see the fox for myself now that she’s been properly caught.”

“Yeah, I hear she got the jump on you,” the other guard said, a snigger hidden in their words. “A cute little fox like this, sucker-punching you?”

“Yeah, yeah…”

Saigo leaned out slightly, keeping Olen’s bulk between himself and the hidden guard. Trying not to breathe loudly, he got a good look at Tsuki’s cell, set into the wall. It looked very much the same as his had been, with one notable exception.

It was empty.

“She’s hiding?” Olen asked.

“Yeah, she’s been doing that on and off,” the other guard grunted. “At first I thought she was capable of fading, but there’s no way that’s true. I think it’s some sort of magic.”

“It’s not magic and you know it, you berry-snorting tree-kisser,” Tsuki’s voice suddenly said. She shimmered back into existence, sitting in the center of her cell. Her hands were behind her back, and when she shifted, Saigo caught the dull gleam of metal.

“Oh, shut up, you little twig,” the guard snapped. “The art of fading was coined by the Stoneblood himself and passed down to his kin, and your cheap imitation—”

Tsuki rolled her eyes and met Saigo’s halfway through.

Saigo put a frantic finger in front of his mouth.

Tsuki’s eyes widened, then snapped up to Olen and back at the guard outside her cell. Before Saigo could signal anything to her, she disappeared.

“Little blot,” the guard growled. “Disappearing when someone’s talking to you—”

Something clicked in Saigo’s head, his handful of wavering ideas suddenly snapping into a single clarified purpose.

Disappearing.

On and off.

He took a deep breath as quietly as he could and poked Olen in the back. A moment later, he heard the unmistakable sound of a lantern crashing to the ground, the candlelight on the walls shuddering and dimming.

“Whoops—”

“Ah’xa,” Saigo breathed.

Chapter Text

Slumber 57, A.R. 372

The candlelit cave turned blue, and Saigo darted out from behind Olen’s back, lunging for the nearest part of the ursine guard he could see.

He touched their forearm as the blue began to fade.

“Ah’ko. Ah’xa.”

He turned and dashed back around Olen, pressing himself up against her back just as the blue dissipated completely.

“H—”

Whatever else the guard meant to say trailed off, accompanied by the creak of a chair.

“Kana?” Olen said.

No response.

Saigo let out a sigh of relief and stepped out from behind Olen, looking over at the soundly sleeping Kana.

“How did you…that was a spell?” Olen asked, stooping over to pick up her broken lantern.

“Don’t touch that!” Saigo said quickly, throwing out a hand. “And yes, a spell. Three, actually. They’ll wake up in a few minutes, but don’t move until then.”

Olen shot him a puzzled glance.

“But why—”

Her eyes widened.

“Oh,” she said. “Oh, I see. Hmm. Clever. Here, use these.”

Saigo accepted the keys and turned to insert them into the cell door, nearly dropping them when he found Tsuki’s face only inches from his own.

“MRR—kahvuh’s bones, don’t do that,” he hissed, fumbling with the key ring and trying the first one. “Are you all right?”

“What is going on?” she demanded, ignoring his question. “Who’s this? Did you have someone on the inside the whole time?”

“No, this is Olen-mell, I met her maybe sixteen minutes ago, but she’s going to help us get to the Stoneblood’s grave, which is what the ‘crowded glade’ actually is.”

“What? Why?”

Saigo glanced over his shoulder at Olen, who was watching their conversation silently, arms folded.

Saigo looked back at Tsuki.

“She wants to see what happens,” he said, trying the next key. It worked, and cell door swung open.

“Fair enough,” Tsuki conceded, turning around and waggling her bound arms. “Now get this junk off me, will you?”

“Give me a moment…”

“Smallest key,” Olen said. “How long does your spell last, exactly?”

“Five minutes,” Saigo said. “I’m hurrying.”

“Very well. Once she is free, go around the corner and all the way down the passage and wait for me there. The reawakening effect is sudden?”

“Yes, I’m pretty sure, you should be able to pretend like no time’s passed,” Saigo said as Tsuki shrugged off the chains. “Here’s hoping this works.”

Tsuki gathered up her bindings, scrutinizing Olen the whole time.

“Wait…aren’t you the one I—”

“Yes, that’s her, you can chat later,” Saigo said, darting past her down the hall. “Come on, it’s not much longer until they wake up.”

“Ugh, fine,” Tsuki groaned, trailing after him. “You know, I was going to bust out on my own no problem the moment they opened up that cell door.”

“I’m sure you would have done great injury to several people, yes,” Saigo said, turning the corner at the end of the corridor and swiveling an ear back the way they came. “Now shh, please. Ow.”

He gave Tsuki a reproachful look, rubbing his shoulder. She responded with a wink and a return “shh.”

They waited, crouched in silence as the seconds stretched on, Tsuki quietly replacing her bandolier, bag, and belt as Saigo handed them over.

They waited, and waited, and—

Saigo’s ears twitched at the sound of a distance-dulled yawn.

“H…wha?”

“Sorry about that. It slipped.”

“O-oh. Yeah, sure.”

“Are you all right, Kana? Not thinking about sleeping on the job again, are you?”

“Ah, shut up, that was one time. You butter your claws before you got here or something?”

“Relax, I’ll clean it up. You keep your eyes on that fox.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Heavy pawsteps preceded Olen around the corner, cupping the broken lantern in one hand. She nodded at Saigo, who returned it and fell into step behind her.

“I can’t tell if that was dumb luck or intelligent luck. Whatever it was, you’re definitely getting better at this jailbreak thing.”

Saigo shrugged minutely. As far as he was concerned, good luck now only meant that bad luck was taking extra time to wind up for a blow to the back of the—

“Ow.”

Saigo rubbed his head and looked over his shoulder at Tsuki.

“I’m not one to question good luck, but seriously, how the shards did you convince her to let you out?” she demanded quietly.

“I can hear you,” Olen said without looking back.

“Don’t care,” Tsuki said.

“You should, because if I can hear you, it means others might be able to as well,” Olen rumbled. “Quiet, please. We will reach the exit soon.”

Tsuki scowled at the ursine’s back, then gave Saigo a look that very clearly said ‘well?!’

Saigo shrugged.

Olen stopped suddenly and turned, crouching to bring herself down to their level. The motion revealed that they were at a corner, around which Saigo could see the faint silver of moonlight.

“It’s a straight shot from here to the entrance,” Olen murmured. “There are two guards right outside, and there will be more along the main trail. We can avoid patrols if we cut through the forest the long way around, but we have to take care of those guards first. Do you have more of those sleeping spells?”

“Just two, then I’m out,” Saigo whispered. “If we can avoid everyone else, though, it should be fine. I don’t want to use any more speed spells if I can avoid it, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to sneak up on them without…”

He trailed off, and both of them looked at Tsuki. She stared between them for a moment, then sighed.

“Fine,” she muttered. “Gimme the magic paper and I’ll take care of it.”

Saigo eased two folded squares of paper out of his left bracer and passed them over to Tsuki.

“All you have to do is touch them and say ‘ah’ko,’” Saigo instructed. “Be careful, please.”

“Like I’m gonna get caught,” Tsuki scoffed, but Saigo caught the hint of a grin just before she disappeared.

Saigo leaned back against the wall. After a few seconds, he realized Olen was looking at him.

“Yes?”

“She seems quite capable,” she commented.

“Oh, definitely,” Saigo said, nodding. “I think she’s been at this a lot longer than I have. She definitely has the skills for it.”

“You admire her?”

“…In some aspects, yeah,” Saigo whispered. “She doesn't hesitate to make decisions, and she's not afraid of anything. It’s hard not to respect that, even if it sometimes…complicates things.”

Olen snorted under her breath.

“Ah, yes, destroying a nearly four-hundred-year-old poem carved by the Stoneblood himself,” she said. “A complication.”

“Well, I do think things would be simpler if it were still in one piece,” Saigo said. “And believe me, the sound of it hitting the floor is going haunt me for the rest of my life. I’ve been trying not to think about it.”

“She is reckless and foolhardy.”

“Yeah, and I’d probably be dead if not for her. There’ve been a couple times when she absolutely could have left me alone in the middle of a real shitstorm, but she didn’t.”

Tsuki popped back into existence about a foot away.

“Are you two going to keep jawing or are we going to get moving while they’re snoozing?” she said. She looked at Saigo. “What? Something surprise you?”

“Thank you, very much,” Saigo said as his fur began to de-puff. “Olen-mell?”

“Yes. Follow me. We must be quick,” Olen said, standing up and leading the way around the corner.

Saigo and Tsuki followed, faint silver light growing steadily stronger until the cave ended and Saigo found himself staring up into an overcast night sky. A patch of moon gleamed through a gap in the clouds, reflected by the fluttering snow.

On either side of the cave entrance, two ursines slumped against the hillside, snoring gently.

Saigo didn’t have much time to admire either feature of the outside world. Snowflakes settled on his nose and melted in his hair as Olen led the way off the path and into the deep forest, her and Saigo and Tsuki’s breaths all misting and mingling in the shadows of the trees.

The frigid night air made Saigo’s lungs prickle, but he barely noticed, focusing instead on keeping his footing as they wove between trees and hopped over bushes. They were leaving pawprints, but if they were lucky, it would take a while for the guards to notice and even longer for them to follow.

The silent, snowy woods seemed to stretch on forever in every direction, painted in deep blacks and whites and silvers. All the while, Saigo’s mind raced in time with his paws, repeating the last lines of the poem over and over.

Silent cloud in a crowded glade

Sleeping inside and dead without

Wake up again in yell of honor

They kept on, alternating between steady jog and hurried walk, Olen striding confidently at the front. Saigo couldn’t help but wonder if she’d done this before—walked the deep woods, eschewing the paths, following some unfailing internal compass.

He wasn’t sure if they’d walked for four or forty minutes when she suddenly slowed down.

Saigo’s heartrate spiked in response, even though he couldn’t discern any notable change in the forest around them.

“We’re close,” Olen murmured. “Be cautious and quiet.”

She crept forward.

The sound of Saigo’s breathing became deafening in his own ears.

This was it. The crowded glade. The next part of the path. Close, so close.

Slowly…quietly…

Shapes began to appear through the trees. Saigo’s hackles rose, dreading the thought of people waiting for them in the glade, but when they failed to shift, he realized what they were.

Stones.

Standing stones, the tallest among them twice the size of an ursine and the smallest even with the tips of Tsuki’s ears.

Saigo, Tsuki, and Olen silently entered the clearing—no.

The crowded glade.

That part, at least, finally made sense.

The stones stood in a loose circle, jutting up out of the ground like the uneven spires of a rising crown. Though the forest outside the glade had been eerily quiet, the air within it rang with expectant silence.

At the center of the ring, another stone sat, the smallest of them all. Saigo could only barely make out the detail carved into it—an ursine, sitting, legs folded, a spear across their knees, head bowed.

A grave.

The grave. The grave of one of only four legendary members of the Fourfront, the stalwart and indomitable Warden of Earth.

The grave of the Stoneblood.

“You know of memory groves?”

Saigo flinched, even though Olen had done nothing more than whisper the question. The stone circle seemed to swallow noise.

She wasn’t looking at either of them, her gaze focused instead on the carved stone in the center of the ring.

“A sapling, planted in the ashes of the dead,” she murmured, not waiting for a response. “The tree would grow, and if you placed your hand on the trunk, you would feel the life they once lived. The sun on their fur, the loam beneath their paws, the sensation of a loved one’s hand in theirs, the sight of stars through the canopy.”

Saigo nodded slowly, not trusting himself to speak.

“Dozens, hundreds of trees, planted together, the memories of every ancestor within hand’s reach,” Olen continued, voice dull. “Our grove was the first, the grandest, the most beloved—the start of a tradition that spread to every corner of Kaiko. Do you know how many times I visited the trees of my ancestors?”

A stray wind made the branches of the surrounding trees clatter gently.

“Not. Once.”

The silence of the woods filled Saigo’s throat.

“Any path to and from the grove was lost long before I was born,” Olen said in the same flat voice. “And now? Our ashes are scattered everywhere in the forest, and if a memory tree has sprung up from any one of them, I have yet to find it.”

She nodded at the carved stone in the center of the ring.

“That,” she said, “is the one and only memory stone in existence, and the ashes that permeate the rock are those of the Stoneblood. No one except the chief is permitted to enter the circle. No one is allowed to so much as approach the circle without the chief’s express permission, and the last person to ask for it was banished for his presumption.”

She leaned down until her mouth was level with Saigo’s ears, not taking her eyes off the gravestone.

“Do you,” she whispered, “have any idea what it means for you to enter the circle?”

Saigo swallowed, mouth dry, and shook his head.

Something like a smile flashed across Olen’s face, gone in an instant.

“Neither do I,” she said. “But I sure as shards want to find out.”

She straightened up and put a heavy hand on Saigo’s shoulder.

“Do it now,” she said.

“Do what?” Saigo tried to say, but the words wouldn’t come out.

Olen seemed to understand nonetheless.

“Do what you came to do,” she murmured, giving him a gentle push toward the ring. “And, the most important thing:”

Saigo looked over his shoulder at her.

Her eyes glittered.

“Be truthful.”

Saigo looked back at the center of the ring, mind blank.

Be truthful? Be truthful?

No shit.

He took a deep, shaky breath, walking up to the edge of the ring. He stood there, trembling, eyeing the towering stones on either side of him.

Step in. Step in. All he had to do was step in and be truthful. That was all.

“I’m right here with you, Saigo.”

Saigo twitched, then let out a quiet breath. He nodded, looked back over his shoulder at Olen and Tsuki, faced forward, and…

…stepped into the ring of stones.

…

Nothing happened.

Saigo straightened up, now fully inside the stone circle. A snowflake settled on his whiskers, then melted away.

He took a step toward the gravestone.

Shff

Another step, looking around slowly, the ground dry under his paws. No snow within the ring. No grass, either—just hard-packed dirt.

Shff

There were carvings on the standing stones. Krovian writings, resembling the ones on the tablet.

Shff

He looked back at the gravestone. The ursine carved upon it looked…small. Head bowed. There was a word he was looking for.

Shff

Serene? No. More tired than that. Weary, that was the word. It was hard to make out their features.

Shff.

Saigo stopped, only a few feet from the stone. It looked…dusty. And there was…there was a scent, familiar to him…

The stray wind from before returned, brushing past Saigo and stirring up the loose dust on the ground.

No, not dust.

Ashes.

Not wood ash, not stone ash. He knew the scent of this one too, in a way that made some deep, dark part of him scream silent red.

Ashes of the dead. They swirled gently around the gravestone, drifting, tumbling as the slow wind made a lazy circuit around the circle of stones.

The ashes whispered in the silence, settling on Saigo’s paws, on his shaking hands—

who are you how are you here who are you who who who dares

Saigo took a step backward, looking toward Tsuki and Ol—

They weren’t there.

you are not one of us not a kin of Krov not an elder not a chief who are you how dare you how DARE you

A grey fog—mist or ashes? mist or ashes?—swirled throughout the circle, turning the stones into looming shadows, hiding the entire forest from him—hiding him from the forest—here in the center of the ring—ashes around him, whispering, teeming, seething—

listen to the wisdom of the elders listen listen you must listen to us this place is sacred you cannot come here you cannot be here how dare you unworthy unworthy unworthy unworthy of his words of his memory of his being how dare you listen listen listen to me listen to me listen to me

Saigo opened his mouth to call out, but ash fluttered down his throat, and he coughed, doubling over as the ashes stirred more, stinging his eyes, coughing into silence, the noise deadened, smothered—what did he do? What had he come here to do? Who was he to barge in here to demand to prod to poke to pry to seek what you should not what you have no right to he is ours he is ours his wisdom is ours and you must listen to us you must listen to us he is ours he is OURS HE IS OURS HE IS OURS HE IS OURS

Eye streaming, one hand covering his mouth, Saigo stumbled toward the only thing he could see—a lump in the mist, a stone, a carved stone, head bowed, coated in ash—

HE IS OURS HOW DARE HOW DARE HOW DARE YOU DO NOT DO NOT HE IS OURS DO NOT TOUCH HIM DO NOT LISTEN LISTEN TO ME LISTEN TO US LISTEN LISTEN LISTEN DO NOT DO NOT DO NOT

—and touched the stone.

you are not ours you are not ours who are you who are you who are you who are you

“My name—” Saigo sank to his knees, coughing. “My name is—my name is Kotoba Saigo!”

why are you here why why why why why did you come here he is ours he is ours he is ours why why why why—

“I—”

He inhaled, breath rattling in an ash-coated throat.

“I—ghhh—I just want—ghhh—some answers!”

THAM

Silence dropped like a hammer, smashing apart the wheedling chorus of whispers.

Saigo fell back from the gravestone, coughing violently, his lungs suddenly clear—the air was suddenly clear, still choked with mist, but it was mist, clean and damp, cool dew dripping from Saigo’s whiskers.

His coughing slowed, breaths no longer ragged, ashes drifting off him and settling on the cold ground.

Well met, Kotoba Saigo.

Saigo raised his head.

Thick mist swirled in the ring, completely enveloping the standing stones. Directly in front of Saigo, however, it broke like waves on an invisible shore, outlining the shape of a sitting figure, the gravestone at its center.

What might have been a mouth moved, mist filling the gaps and flowing off the shape of massive teeth and a broad snout.

However, that is only one of you. You there. Your name and purpose, if you’d be so kind.

Saigo struggled upright into a proper sitting position. Who was—did he mean—

A familiar hand rested on his left shoulder.

“…I call myself Hadvo. I’m just here to support Saigo.”

Well met to you as well, Hadvo. I tell you this, it’s good to meet another of my kind in this age.

“Your…” Saigo echoed, his head spinning. “You, you’re the, the actual Stoneblood? The…one of the Wardens? One of the Fourfront?”

The mist-shaped ursine seemed to straighten.

I was, he said proudly. For a long time, that was the whole of me, but I was lucky enough to become something more. I am Krov Kammenaya. A pleasure to meet you. And you said you came here seeking…answers?

Saigo let out a strangled laugh.

“HAHAHA…sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m just, ah…I didn’t, I didn’t expect something like…you, it’s you!” he stammered, running his hands through his hair. “You’re—you’re actually here? You’re alive?”

The shape of a head tilted.

Only as far as your friend Hadvo is, and perhaps even less than that, the Stoneblood said. He is a proper soul, whereas I…I am not. Not exactly. A living memory, perhaps, enough of me to be me while not entirely being so. The part of me I left behind for others, to offer what wisdom, knowledge, or truth I could to whoever came asking.

Saigo swallowed, still blinking rapidly, his heart on the verge of bursting.

“Okay,” he rasped. “Um…thank you. I’m so sorry, I just really can’t believe it…”

The figure in the mist chuckled sadly.

No apology necessary, he said. Rather, I am sorry that such an experience comes as a shock. It used to be I spoke with dozens of people every day, but now…ah, my foolish young kin. Fervor, greed, paranoia, tradition…I am buried in the ashes of those kin of mine who decided wisdom ought to be protected, and as a result protected themselves from wisdom.

Saigo nodded shakily, starting to pull himself together.

Okay. Okay. Okay.

Here was…a memory of the Stoneblood. Talking to him. He could do this. He just had to ask questions. Questions were made up of words. He had to say words. Just words, one in front of the other.

He took a deep breath and threw up.

It wasn’t much; mostly water, and he had enough presence of mind to lean and twist so it didn’t land in his lap or splash on the Stoneblood’s gravestone.

“Woah! Okay there, Saigo, go on, you’re okay…”

A hand gingerly patted him on the back. Saigo wiped his mouth, face burning, swallowing sour as he turned back to the Stoneblood.

“Sorry…” he mumbled.

Believe me, Kotoba, it’s not the first time that’s happened, the Stoneblood said, chuffing softly. After more than forty years of misplaced zeal and deaf ears, genuine nerves are a breath of fresh air. Now: considering the current state of my kin, I can’t imagine you’re here with their blessing, which makes me all the more curious about what you’re looking for.

“Yes. Right. Yes, there—there was something,” Saigo said. “I—you’re right, I’m—I’ve kind of forced my way here, but what guided me to this point was a…a stone tablet, with a poem on it.”

The mist-shrouded Stoneblood leaned forward.

A poem on a stone tablet? One of mine? I made quite a few of those in my later years of life. I thought my kin had collected them all.

“Yes, emelle,” Saigo said, nodding. “It talked about…uh, ‘born in death of red and gold—”

Ika’s roots, that one? You found THAT one? the Stoneblood said. He slapped his knee, though it didn’t make a sound. It’s about sharding time somebody did! How’d you get it? Where was it? Risu was always cagey about the details.

“Risu—Enshi Risuna? The Starseer?” Saigo said. “Are—are you talking about the ‘path to truth?’”

Yes, that’s it exactly! Some time-reaching plan she had, never explained it fully. Only ever told me I would be the second stop.

“I, I actually, uh, found it in—below the Harbor, in a ruin,” Saigo stammered. “A…a ghost led me to the tablet, and…some other stuff. I think…I’m pretty certain the ghost was the Starseer. Or—or a memory of her, like you said.”

The Stoneblood leaned back.

Is that so? Interesting. Below…oh, yes. Ha. Figures. I remember engraving that tablet for her. She came to me just after I worked out the details of how to leave myself behind when I died. Ika’s bones, her timing…anyways, yes, so you’re following the path. I notice one of my kin guided you here. I’ve seen her about, looking for our memory grove…I have high hopes for her. Maybe I’ll start getting visitors again, if she keeps on.

“I…you mentioned that earlier,” Saigo said. “Visitors. You… people used to know about you?”

Of course! That was the whole point! To not lose the thread of the past, to not have our history shattered to pieces a second time! Anyone could come and speak to me. I wanted it to be that way. Wanderers, scholars, friends, their children, my children…especially those of my kind in need of counsel, though Hadvo here is the first in a long time, longer than someone simply not my kin.

“I—I’m sorry, emelle, but…you’ve said ‘your kind’ about Hadvo a couple times,” Saigo said, rubbing his left shoulder. “What does that mean, exactly?”

The shape of the Stoneblood shifted, and Saigo felt the suggestion of a curious gaze on him.

A Warden, of course. What else would I be talking about?

Chapter Text

Slumber 57, A.R. 372

The mist inside the ring of standing stones swirled gently, its soft wisping almost audible in the sudden, deafening silence.

“A…what?” Saigo said hoarsely.

A Warden, the Stoneblood repeated. There were a number of them who visited me, most of them of Earth like myself. Hadvo, though…you’re an interesting one. First time I’ve seen an anchor like yours.

“Hadvo’s not a Warden.”

The words came out of Saigo’s mouth without conferring with his brain, which wasn’t in any condition to provide input in any case.

“He can’t…he can’t be a Warden,” Saigo’s mouth said. “He…he…he’s not even, he doesn’t even have a body. And besides that, the, the Fourfront…you were…it was just you. Everyone knows that. Just the four Wardens. You were called by the Celestials to end the Saisho, and when you were gone…that was it. Wasn’t it?”

…Excuse me? What the shards are you talking about? ‘Just the four’—cub, you are literally carrying his channel on your back! Are you telling me you didn’t realize? Even I can see the mark of Ika on it, plain as stone!

“But…but…”

Saigo clutched at his head, a steady throbbing building up, more painful than any he’d felt before.

Oh, no…Ika’s blood, cub, are you telling me people think there’s no Wardens anymore? No, more than that, that we were the only ones? That’s ridiculous! We weren’t the first or the last! Your friend Hadvo is a testament to that!

“No…no, that—that can’t be right, it can’t!” Saigo babbled, barely hearing himself over the rushing in his head. “What—why—but, but, but it doesn’t make any—"

“Hey. Saigo?”

The pressure of a hand on Saigo’s shoulder broke through the swelling ache in his head. Through a teary eye, Saigo looked up, and for a moment saw the shape of a hand wrapped in mist.

“He’s right.”

“Wha…what?”

“He’s telling the truth. And so am I, right now…later than I should have, I admit. I’m a Warden…a Warden of Earth, I guess, but I never really thought about it like that. Sounds too fancy for me.”

“But…you…”

Saigo floundered, trying to find the words, but nothing came.

Really? All this time? He’d even taken the sword out on occasion and looked at it, but it never…it just didn’t…it hadn’t even crossed his mind.

Wardens didn’t exist anymore. The Fourfront. The first and the last, according to history.

According to…according to whom, exactly?

Saigo slowly lowered his hands into his lap, head bowed.

“I’m…I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, but it…I couldn’t find the right words. I mean, even if you knew, it wouldn’t change much about your ‘path to truth’ thing.”

“Are you sure?”

“I mean…not completely? But I thought it was better to let it sleep than to tell you straight out. You’re dealing with enough as it is, you know.”

“So you thought waiting until I was talking with the actual Stoneblood would be a good time to just let me know that Wardens still exist?!”

“Look, it wasn’t exactly—”

Ahem.

Saigo looked back at the Stoneblood.

I can see that you two have a…difficult conversation ahead of you, and I’m sorry for being the cause of that, but I also must remind you that you came here for a different but equally significant reason, he said. Not to mention that you’re here looking for answers, so you might consider being more receptive when some suddenly come your way.

Saigo would have preferred to be shouted at rather than suffer the stinging sharpness of a gentle admonishment. He lowered his head again, the pain in his mind easing a bit.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “It was just…a bit of a shock.”

“I’m sorry too. I’ll explain more later.”

Saigo rubbed his shoulder, glancing back up at the Stoneblood.

“My apologies, emelle,” he said. “You’re right, this can…wait until later. Um…I followed the poem to come here, but I…I don’t know what’s supposed to happen next. I assume speaking with you is part of it?”

That’s right. As you said, though, that’s only part of it. Risu left me with instructions for when someone came through pursuing the path to truth. It’s nothing much—I just have a couple questions for you.

“I’ll answer as best I can, emelle.”

Glad to hear it. Now, tell me…

The Stoneblood shifted slightly. It wasn’t a large motion—he simply straightened up and rested his hands on his knees—but all of a sudden he seemed much, much bigger.

What would you do for the truth?

Olen’s last words before Saigo entered the stone circle flashed through his mind.

Be truthful. Be truthful. What did he say? What would he do?

“I—”

“Actually…can I answer that?”

“Hadvo?” Saigo said. “What—”

The Stoneblood raised a hand, cutting him off, the outline of his head locked on a point above and slightly to the left of Saigo.

What do you mean by that, Hadvo? Kotoba is the one following the path to truth, isn’t he? Seems to me he should be the one to answer the question.

“Yeah, he is, and maybe he should, but I think before he gets to that point you should know a bit more about what he’s already done for the truth.”

Interesting. I’m not opposed to that, but why should you be the one to answer? Again, this is Kotoba’s path.

“Yeah, and he’s been walking it for longer than he can actually remember, while I’ve been there with him on both sides of his memory. I’m the only one who can do his efforts justice.”

The Stoneblood looked back at Saigo.

Kotoba? Is this true?

Saigo blinked.

“As—as far as I’m aware, yes,” he said. “I…I don’t actually remember anything about myself beyond eleven weeks ago, but Hadvo was there with me when I first woke up.”

And do you trust him? Enough for him to speak for you?

“I…”

Saigo hesitated.

Hadvo had been there from the start. A voice in his head, the first voice he’d heard upon waking up, the only voice, more often than not. A voice attached to a body never seen and rarely present. A voice that hemmed and hawed and went silent at questions and laughed and grouched and berated and wondered and promised…

The invisible hand on Saigo’s shoulder squeezed once, tight—yes, tight, but ever-so-subtly trembling.

Hadvo had been there from the start. That alone was a question.

But he’d been there.

“I…do. I trust him,” Saigo said. “He’s been with me the whole way, and I know he’s held stuff back, but I…I can only assume he’s done so for a reason.”

I see. And are you willing to let him speak on your behalf in this instance?

“Yes,” Saigo said, his voice quivering only a little.

The hand on his shoulder squeezed again, then faded.

“Thanks.”

Very well. Hadvo?

“All right. Here goes.”

The sound of a spectral breath being taken echoed around the circle of stones.

“Saigo once spent three hours at the top of a tree because he thought a pile of rubble was a ruin monster.”

Saigo blinked.

“Another time, he dove headfirst into a pile of olinoo manure so he could escape from a Vigil patrol. Once he was out of town, he cleaned himself off in a river and lost a week’s worth of food when his backpack fell in.”

“Hadvo.”

“Then a week later he accidentally got into the middle of a bar brawl because a farmer mistook him for someone else and he ended up getting thrown out of a third-story window.”

“Hadvo.”

“And then there was the time he bought some jerky from this human and—”

“Sul help me Hadvo what are you doing!”

“—wasn’t actually beans at all, and then the Peacekeepers showed up—”

“Hadvo I swear on the kahvuh if you don’t stop talking—”

“—which is when the shopkeeper came back in looking for their wig, and you can probably imagine how that went.”

Saigo buried his face in his hands.

“All those experiences? That’s barely scratching the surface of what he’s done. He’s explored ruins and snuck past monsters and traps to get just enough money to let him keep on this path.

“He’s faced off against the Vigil, Seeker Division teams, uppity merchants, and plain old thugs, most often because he was looking to help someone else at his own expense.

“He’s endured humiliation, discomfort, confusion, aggression, and flat-out pain, which is to say nothing about what he lost getting to this point.

“And in spite of that—in spite of spending every sharding day running for his life, wrongly accused and not even knowing who he is—in spite of all that, he has never once stopped looking for the truth.”

Saigo risked a peek through his fingers at the Stoneblood. It was hard to get a read on his expression when his face was nothing more than empty space surrounded by fog, but it was easy to tell he was listening to Hadvo with rapt attention.

“He’s been imprisoned twice in almost as many weeks and escaped both times, even though it only made him more enemies. He broke into the Harbor and probably got himself labeled as a national criminal in the process, just so he could find the clue that led here.

“He’s been punched, kicked, cut, bruised, knocked out, swindled, cheated, and chased. He’s got no place to live, no friends or family to turn to, and no one to support him besides me and…potentially one other person, who he met less than three weeks ago.

“He’s unfailingly kind. He’s painfully stubborn. He goes out of his way to help others, no matter what the consequences might be. He…”

Hadvo’s echoing voice broke for a moment.

“…Saigo wasn’t meant for this kind of life. He’s not a warrior or a treasure hunter or even that good of a criminal. He’s just…someone who loves people, and would do anything to understand them. I know that. I—I’ve seen what he gave up for that. What he gave up for the truth.”

Saigo lowered his hands away from his face, fighting to swallow the hard lump of emotion in his throat. Gratitude, embarrassment, sadness, guilt—roiling in his chest, surging with every rise and fall in Hadvo’s voice.

“Stoneblood-emelle. If you want to know just what Saigo would do for the truth, you don’t need to look any farther than what he’s already done. He doesn’t show any signs of stopping where he is.”

Silence settled in the mist around the Stoneblood’s gravestone.

…Thank you, Hadvo, the Stoneblood said, his voice surprisingly soft. You’ve spoken well, and I can see Kotoba has a good friend in you. However…

The shape of his head turned toward Saigo.

…I do still need to hear from the path-walker himself. Now, please, tell me: what would you do for the truth?

Saigo wiped his eyes and took a shaky breath, ears still burning.

“I’m…I’m prepared to do anything I can,” he said. “I can’t give up on this, not with what I know and what I’ve already done. I’m determined to see this through to the very end, emelle.”

To the very end?

Saigo nodded unsteadily, focusing on where he thought the Stoneblood’s eyes were most likely to be.

“To the very end,” he repeated.

All was quiet.

The Stoneblood—no.

No, he’d said he wasn’t the Stoneblood anymore.

Krov Kammenaya extended a hand to Saigo.

That’s good enough for me, he said. I look forward to your search for the truth.

Saigo reached out and shook Krov’s hand, solid and real in the depths of the mist.

Oh, and before I forget: the next step on the path. You’ll need to find where the Soulspark first broke their chains. This should help.

Something smooth and heavy settled in Saigo’s palm.

Ika lift your paws, Krov said, giving Saigo’s hand one more firm shake. I hope to see you again someday.

“I—I hope so too, emelle,” Saigo said. “Thank you.”

Stay out of trouble, cub.

For just a moment, the mist swirled around and across the shape of a kindly ursine face.

And then it was gone.

The mist billowed in to fill the empty space around the gravestone. Saigo spent a few seconds staring at the carved relief, then looked down at the thing in his hand.

It was…a stick. A carved wooden rod, not much longer than his arm from the shoulder to the wrist. Smooth and straight, without any ornamentation. Quite heavy, though…

Saigo stood up, wobbling a little. The mist around him began to thin, revealing first the standing stones and then the forest beyond the ring, the trees and the bushes and the…oh.

The…dozens of ursines.

Standing there. Staring at him. Spears leveled.

Olen, on her knees, guarded by no less than four other ursines. Tsuki nowhere to be seen.

And…Chief Durva, standing just outside the ring of stones, eyes wild, inhaling—

“YOU!” she roared, leveling a shaking claw at him. “HOW DARE YOU! HOW DARE YOU DEFILE A SACRED PLACE WITH YOUR FILTHY, UNWORTHY, FLEA-RIDDEN SELF! YOU ARE DEAD YOU WILL DIE HERE THERE IS NO MERCY LEFT FOR YOU—”

Despite the chief’s spitting, gnashing rant, Saigo noted that neither she nor any other ursine was making a move to enter the ring of standing stones. Indeed, the ursines throughout the clearing looked far more nervous than angry.

He made eye contact with Olen, who looked profoundly calm in spite of all the spears pointed at her chest. She met his gaze and tilted her head slightly at the chief, a silent-but-clear ‘you have bigger things to worry about.’

Saigo grimaced and nodded. He looked back at Chief Durva, whose tirade had just now subsided, leaving her breathing heavily and pacing back and forth on the edge of the circle of stones.

He cleared his throat.

“I—” he said.

“SILENCE!” Chief Durva screamed. “EVEN NOW YOU CONTINUE TO DEFILE THE GRAVE OF THE STONEBLOOD AND THE ASHES OF OUR ANCESTORS! LEAVE THE CIRCLE AT ONCE AND SUBMIT YOURSELF TO JUSTICE!”

“Please—”

“YOU HAVE ONE MINUTE TO SURRENDER YOURSELF, AND IF YOU DO NOT I SHALL PERSONALLY ENSURE YOUR DEATH OCCURS ONLY AFTER YOU HAVE SUFFERED ENOUGH TO PAY FOR EVERY SLIGHT AND SLANDER YOU HAVE HEAPED UPON US!!”

“Chief Durva-emelle, I—”

“YOU SHOULD HAVE THROWN YOURSELF ON THE MERCY OF THE VIGIL WHILE YOU HAD THE CHANCE, BUT FOR YOUR ACTIONS I SHALL NOT REST UNTIL YOUR WRETCHED TONGUE IS TORN FROM YOUR MOUTH!!!”

Saigo gave up, flattening his ears and letting the chief’s ongoing revilement wash over him. The assembled Krovkin shuffled uneasily in their places around the stone circle, looking nearly as uncomfortable as he felt.

“—AND WHEN YOUR ASHES HAVE BEEN SEALED SO THEY MAY NEVER TOUCH THE CELESTIALS AGAIN I WILL ENSURE YOUR NAME IS MADE KNOWN AS AN EXAMPLE TO ALL WHO WOULD DARE TO PRESUME—”

“All right, this is getting nowhere. Hold still.”

“Wait, what?” Saigo whispered, automatically turning his head to the left.

“Just trust me, all right?”

Something shifted on Saigo’s back—the sword, sheath and all, lifting away from him.

“What—"

A panic like a cluster of barbed needles slammed into Saigo’s sternum and spread from there, sickly tendrils climbing around his ribs and up his throat. Not that not that not that NOT THAT—

The sword bobbed in the air like someone was adjusting their grip on it, and a hand touched Saigo gently on the shoulder before the panic could spill out of his mouth.

“It’s okay.”

“But you’ve always said—”

“I know. Just trust me.”

Saigo hesitated, then nodded, taking a step back. The sword dipped to a low angle, the tip of its sheath brushing the ash-coated earth. Held loosely in an invisible hand. Not threatening. Waiting.

Saigo realized the clearing was already silent, every eye fixed on the sword. Even Chief Durva had faltered, but she recovered with impressive speed.

“What is this?” she demanded, gesturing at the sword with her spear. “A trick? A threat? If you think you can intimidate the Krovkin with a floating sword you are sorely—”

She stopped abruptly, because one of the Krovkin nearest her had leaned over and was muttering something low and fast, eyes locked on the sword.

“What?” she snapped. “When you were moving him?”

More muttering.

“Why was nothing said to me?”

Mutter, mutter, mutter.

“Hggggrrr…fine. And so what if it is? It’s still nothing but a sword. Swords break.”

Mutter…mutter.

“Different how? It’s just a sword!”

“‘Just a sword’ my ass.”

For the first time in Saigo’s memory—the first time in eleven weeks of hearing it every day, through thick and thin, through calm and storm—Hadvo’s voice rang through the open air.

The sword moved, at the center of everyone’s attention, and now Saigo saw something he had never seen before, though he’d felt it more times than he could count.

A hand. Almost a hand—like someone had sprinkled glowing green dust over the outline of a hand and then removed the outline and then made it real.

A hand, around the hilt of the sword, and now another hand, gripping the mouth of the sheath, and—

—light.

Not blinding light. Not dazzling light. Low, dull, rippling light, like the sun through a thick canopy of trees, the light you found a few inches from the forest floor, rich and soft and nearly invisible unless you knew how to look.

Deep, deep green light, and now it faded further, becoming shapes on the flat of the blade, but ‘shapes’ was a crude and cumbersome word.

Saigo had unsheathed the sword himself only twice before—the first time out of curiosity, and the second time to convince himself he hadn’t been fever-dreaming. Both times, he’d only been able to stand looking at it for a few minutes, but he’d come away with the bone-deep certainty that the markings were words, in much the same way the ocean was just a bunch of water.

Hadvo had never spoken on the markings, never referenced them beyond their shared understanding that such a thing was better kept secret.

What had the Stoneblood called it?

Channel.

Hadvo lifted the sword, resting it on the hazy suggestion of his shoulder.

“Is this enough or am I going to have to spell it out for you?”

Chief Durva was the first to recover her voice.

“K—k—kahvuh!” she sputtered, pointing a shaking claw at Hadvo. “Nothing-spawn! How dare you intrude on our—”

“Oh, come ON. Look, just quiet down and listen for a minute, will you? You can call me Hadvo, and I’m his protector.”

The hand holding the sheath pointed at Saigo.

“That means I’ll do everything in my power to make sure he gets out of here safely. Talking it out with him is still on the table. If you want to take it off the table, fine. Just know you’ll be dealing with me instead, and I’m not great with words. Understood?”

The assembled Krovkin turned as one to look at Chief Durva. To her credit, she looked only mildly shaken, although how much of a face she was putting on was unclear to Saigo. This sort of thing wouldn’t be easy to deal with even on the best of days.

Her face twitched, and her mouth opened and closed several times as she fought for the right words, her eyes never leaving the sword and the blur of green in the air around it.

“…Very well,” she finally said. “He…may say his piece. Now would you…please…put that—put your blade away?”

The suggestion of a head turned toward Saigo, features indiscernible beyond a faint smear of green.

“Well?” Hadvo said quietly. “You think that’s enough?”

Saigo nodded quickly.

Hadvo turned back to the assembled Krovkin and lowered the sword away from his shoulder. Where its tip pointed, ursines leaned backward, clutching their spears tight.

Hadvo held it for a moment…and then slid the sheath over the blade, cutting off the dull green markings, the blur of his self slowly fading, until all that was left was the floating sword, which came to a gentle rest in Saigo’s open hands.

“Hope that was all right,” Hadvo’s voice murmured, alone in Saigo’s head once more.

Saigo breathed a low sigh of anxious acknowledgement, gingerly replacing the sword over his back.

“Also, don’t let them know, but that whole thing COMPLETELY drained me, so if they do decide to rush you…good luck.”

“Oh, thank you,” Saigo muttered.

He finished adjusting the sword and looked up to see every ursine in the clearing staring at him.

Saigo coughed, which was better than throwing up, and the only reason he wasn’t throwing up was because he’d already emptied what little had been in his stomach. How long since he’d last eaten? Two cycles at least, it had to be…

He cleared his throat and looked at Chief Durva, who glared back at him with a touch less disgust and a hint more wariness than before.

“I’m…sorry for all this,” Saigo said, his voice wavering slightly. “I’m sorry everything got so messy. I’d have preferred it didn’t, but I’m rarely lucky in that direction. I found the answers I came looking for, and…I know it’s a lot to ask, but is there any way I could just leave? Peacefully?”

Chief Durva took a deep breath, and for a moment it looked like she was about to start shouting again.

“You…you invade our home and trample on our traditions and you expect to simply leave?” she said, every word strained and sharp. “You defile the grave of the Stoneblood and you ask for peace?”

“I think ‘defile’ is a bit of a strong word, emelle,” Saigo said, with as much polite defiance he could muster. “I only touched the stone, and he seemed more than happy to talk.”

The sucking silence that followed gave Saigo just enough time to identify three unique reactions: bewilderment, for the majority of the ursines around the clearing; sparkling triumph, exclusively in Olen’s eyes; and an expression on Chief Durva’s face like someone had reached up through her ribs and dragged the splintered end of a broken stick across her heart.

Murmurs bubbled up and began to sweep through the crowd, swiftly reaching boiling point, ursines shifting and gesturing and raising their voices louder and louder—

TOK TOK

The sound of wood on stone wasn’t especially loud, but it cut through the rising clamor like a claw through velvet.

Chief Durva raised her spear and pointed it at the path behind her, her face a dispassionate mask absent of any trace of the shock she’d worn moments before.

“All of you,” she said softly. “Leave.”

A few ursines raised their voices in protest, but Chief Durva silenced them with a look. In ones and twos, the Krovkin began to file out of the clearing.

The last to depart were Olen and her guards, but Chief Durva stopped them with a gesture as they made to move past.

“Leave her,” she said, in the same flat voice that brooked no argument.

They nodded and bowed, then hurried out of the clearing, leaving Olen standing in front of the chief.

The two ursines stared at each other for a while.

“Why?” Chief Durva asked quietly.

“Something had to change,” Olen said.

“And you believed a stranger was the best way for that to happen?” Chief Durva spat the word like a curse.

“Nothing was going to happen without one,” Olen said flatly, her fists clenching. “Only the chief has the privilege of speaking with the Stoneblood, Durva-mell, but when was the last time you actually heard him? Him, chief, not an echo. Not loose ashes with nowhere to put their memories. Him.”

“How—”

“—dare I?” Olen finished for her. “How dare I, chief? It’s nothing but ashes! Selfish echoes, over and over! No starlight! No hands! No warmth, no loam, no life! Dead words, chief! I want to hear him!”

She was crying, angry tears trickling down her fur.

Chief Durva gestured wildly at Saigo, still standing alone in the circle of stones.

“And you think that did?!” she snarled. “You think a stranger waltzed in and spoke to the Stoneblood?! You think that thing—with heathen magic in its hands and a kahvuh over its shoulder—entered the circle and heard HIS name?!”

“Kammenaya?”

Saigo slapped his hand over his mouth, but both ursines had already turned to stare at him.

“…What?” Chief Durva said, taking a step toward the circle of stones. “What did you just say?”

Saigo lowered his hand.

“He…he said his name was Krov Kammenaya,” he said carefully. “When he introduced himself. I’m sorry, Chief Durva-emelle, but I really did speak with him.”

“He…no. No, you are lying,” Chief Durva said hoarsely. “You…you cannot know that. He would not tell you that. A lie. That is a lie. His name—his name—only the chief—only I should know that name!”

“It’s not a lie,” Saigo said. “I’m sorry. I touched the stone and I talked to him and he told me his name was Krov Kammenaya.”

“DON’T. SAY. HIS NAME!” Chief Durva bellowed, stalking right up to the edge of the circle of stones and shaking her spear at him. “You—you—you have no RIGHT! Why would you—why would he—to you! Why, why, WHY! YOU ARE LYING!”

“Ask him yourself, then.”

Chief Durva whirled.

“Ask him,” Olen repeated, stepping forward. “Step into the circle and demand the truth. That is your privilege, chief. It should be easy, shouldn’t it? To touch the memory? The ashes should part for you, shouldn’t they? The ashes think you’re worthy, don’t they? They wouldn’t part for me, chief, but they’ll part for you, won’t they?”

Chief Durva’s mouth opened and closed, opened and closed, opened and closed—no words, just strangled breaths and choked syllables, squeezing her spear, bending, creaking—

CRAK

Chief Durva looked down at the splintered halves of the spear, one in each hand. Then she looked at Olen, then back down at the spear, then back up at Olen, then back down…

She didn’t so much sit as slump, the two halves of the spear still gripped tight in her hands, head bowed.

“Leave,” she murmured.

“Chief—” Olen began.

“LEEEAVE!!” Chief Durva bellowed, eyes screwed shut.

Olen stared down at her for a long, silent moment. Eventually, she raised her eyes to Saigo and motioned at the trail behind her.

Saigo walked gingerly across the ash-coated ground and stepped out of the circle of stones onto trampled snow, only a few feet from the kneeling chief.

He paused in front of her, racked his brain, opened his mouth…

…and thought the better of it.

He bowed, once, deeply—and stepped past her, leaving the crowded glade behind.

Chapter Text

Slumber 57, A.R. 372

Mud, snow, and loam clung to Saigo’s paws as he followed the trail away from the Stoneblood’s grave, Olen lumbering behind him.

He looked back and saw her wiping her eyes, but she gave him a grim smile the moment she noticed him watching.

“I think that went about as well as I could have hoped,” she said, voice low.

Saigo nodded heavily. He could feel everything from the past day—oh Sul, it hadn’t even been a day—sitting in his gut like a lead dumpling. It was packed up tight for now, but sooner or later the skin was going to tear and everything was going to come flooding out.

“Quite a show you put on,” Olen continued. “You could have said something about carrying around a ghost-sword. I probably would have believed you.”

“You might have told me about the ashes,” Saigo said, managing a grimace. “I don’t know if your ancestors were actively trying to choke me to death, but they certainly weren’t happy about me being there.”

“They are not happy about anyone,” Olen said. “They barely are, as you saw for yourself. They were not properly delivered to the Celestials. There is nothing left of them but grudge and poison, and it is aimed strongest at themselves and their kin. I believed a stranger might confuse them enough to slip past.”

“…Glad I was useful?” Saigo said, wrinkling his brow.

“You would be,” Tsuki said.

She hadn’t been there, and then there she was, walking with her hands in her pockets.

She and Olen stopped to give Saigo time to climb down from the nearest tree and pick the larger twigs out of his sweater.

They started moving again, and now they were approaching a large stone arch, and there was the home of the Krovkin, very different now that it wasn’t flying by in a blur.

It passed by again, much slower this time, filled with owlish gazes and surreptitious glances and muted whispers. No one shouted. No one charged them. No one moved to stop them in any way.

The air was thick, like the sky before a storm, but no one was sure yet if there would be rain or thunder or snow or fire or nothing or everything at once.

And now they were on the path. The path Saigo and Tsuki had come by, forty years ago this morning.

Olen stopped right where the trees began to hide them from the eyes of the town.

“You’ll have to walk the rest of the way yourselves,” she said. “I have to stay and see the results of…everything. My partners will want to know what happened.”

“Oh. Shards.”

“Are…are you all going to be okay?” Saigo asked.

Olen shrugged.

“I would not have done what I did without their consent,” she said. “We have been preparing for a while now. We have…plans in place, depending on what comes next.”

“Do you…do you want to—?”

“Come with you?” Olen finished for him, raising an eyebrow. “Kind of you to offer, but don’t worry about us. You have your own path to walk, just as we have ours, although yours is best walked as far away from the Krovkin as possible. I’m sure we’ll see each other again. Someday.”

“Don’t you at least want to know what happened in the—”

“Those are answers for another time,” Olen interrupted again, patting Saigo’s shoulder. “For now, you really should leave as quickly as possible. That said…”

She hesitated.

“…no, I think the hope we will meet again is enough,” she said. “You…have many more walls to cross, friend. On the other side of one of them, I’m sure we’ll have enough time to question and answer as much as we’d like.”

“Cryptic much?” Tsuki grunted.

Saigo sighed.

“All right,” he said. “Sul’s light guide your steps. I hope you and your family stay safe.”

“Of course,” Olen said, smiling. “May the Earth support your paws wherever you journey next. And…good luck.”

They bowed goodbye, and Olen turned and trudged back towards her home, leaving Saigo and Tsuki to tread the winding path out and away.

They hadn’t walked for long when Tsuki suddenly punched Saigo in the shoulder.

Saigo staggered, more surprised than hurt.

“Ow. What was that for?” he demanded.

“Oh, sure, play dumb,” Tsuki said, rolling her eyes. “Do you mind explaining what the shatter happened back there?”

“Which part of it?” Saigo said, rubbing his new sore spot.

“All of it!” Tsuki said, throwing her arms up in the air. “Like, what was the deal with that weird mist? You completely disappeared! Did you actually feel something through the memory stone? Also, your imaginary friend is real? And don’t even get me started on what the shards is going on with that freakish sword of yours—”

“Oh, she did not just call my sword freakish.”

“Okay, okay, I get it, I’ll—I’ll try and explain what I can,” Saigo said, motioning for her to calm down. “Believe me, I’m still trying to put it all together myself. What were you doing while everything was happening?”

“Watching, obviously! What, you think I ran off into the woods the moment those Korvs started pouring in? I was this close to clobbering the chief over the head when she wouldn’t shut up.”

“Um…thank you for not?” Saigo said, scrunching his face at her. “That probably would have…complicated things.”

“Right, wouldn’t have wanted me complicating things,” Tsuki said, rolling her eyes. “Wouldn’t want me to make a mess of you listening to the ash-memories of the Stoneblood and nearly getting lynched by a bunch of bears and getting saved by the ghost living in your sword.”

“I am NOT a ghost! Saigo, tell her I’m not a ghost! And the sword is fine, all right? It’s a perfectly well-made sword and all the weird stuff happened to it later!”

“Please be quiet, both of you,” Saigo said, rubbing his eyes.

“Both—he’s here right now?” Tsuki said, looking around wildly. “Where? Why can’t I hear him? Is he talking shit about me?”

“Who’s talking shit? That’s a lot of nerve, coming from the person who called me imaginary—”

“Hadvo, that’s not helping,” Saigo said wearily. “Tsuki, to answer your question, yes, he’s here right now. As for why you can’t hear him…I don’t really know how it works, but most of the time he talks directly into my head. Today was the first time he’s ever done something so…flashy.”

“‘Flashy’ is right,” Tsuki said, glaring suspiciously at the sword on Saigo’s back. “I thought you couldn’t get any weirder, and now here you are with a haunted sword as your personal bodyguard. Not a great one, either, considering how beat up you are.”

“To clarify—before Hadvo starts ranting—the sword itself isn’t haunted,” Saigo said. “It’s magical, yes, but Hadvo isn’t…inhabiting it. Or so he’s told me.”

“So he’s haunting you?”

“Mmmm…I don’t think so,” Saigo said. “For one, he says you have to be a ghost to haunt someone or something, and he’s pretty adamant about not being a ghost.”

“About time you started listening to me.”

“Second of all,” Saigo continued, “the idea of ‘haunting’ suggests the ghost inspires some level of fear or respect, and once you get to know him, Hadvo is about as imposing as a caterpillar.”

“Hey! All right, smart-ass, you asked for this—"

An invisible arm clamped around Saigo’s neck, and a set of knuckles ground against his head.

“Ow! No! Stop!” Saigo said, trying and failing to wriggle his way out of the headlock. “Come on, Hadvo, you know I—haha—you know what I mean!”

“That looks…so weird,” Tsuki said, wrinkling her nose at him.

Saigo managed to shove Hadvo’s arm off and straightened up, running a hand through his mussed hair.

“Sorry about that,” he said, a touch breathlessly. “Anyways…yes, that’s Hadvo. Owner of the sword, not a ghost, minor to major nuisance. I’ll be honest, it’s weird having someone else know about him. You’re the first person I’ve ever told.”

“What an honor,” Tsuki said, deadpan. She looked like she was about to say something else, but then her eyes flicked back to the path ahead and she fell silent.

Saigo followed her gaze. There was a clearing coming up—a familiar one, dominated by a tree-woven pavilion.

They passed through in silence. It felt appropriate, not to mention Saigo found it difficult to look at the pavilion itself without hearing the horrible crack of stone shattering into a hundred pieces.

It wasn’t until the clearing was well behind them that Tsuki spoke again, with the air of someone who had spent the last few minutes carefully mulling over a single question.

“So…he is dead, right?”

Saigo hesitated. “Uh…”

“You don’t know?”

“It’s not something we've ever really talked about,” Saigo said.

“About whether the voice in your head belongs to a dead person?” Tsuki said incredulously. “That’s one of the first questions you should be asking!”

“I know, I know, but it never really comes up! I mean, I assumed so, but he’s always been insistent about not being a ghost, which sometimes made me wonder—”

“Shut up and ask him, would you? It’s not like I can! Can I?”

“I mean, you’re welcome to, but—”

“Where is he? You can see him, right?”

“What? No, I can’t. He’s…I suppose invisible is the right word, but he’s also mostly intangible, which means he’s pretty much impossible for me to pinpoint, sight or smell or otherwise.”

“And he says he’s not a ghost?”

“That is what I say.”

“That’s what he says,” Saigo sighed.

Tsuki gave him an expectant look.

“So…?” she said.

“So…what?” Saigo asked.

“So is he dead!”

“Oh. Right. Hadvo? Are you dead or what? If that’s not too, um, forward of a question.”

“Oh, no, no worries. I’m uh…it’s kind of hard to say for certain. I just don’t have a body anymore. A regular one, I mean.”

“What happened to it?”

“It’s…it’s gone.”

“Gone where?”

“Hey, what’s he saying? I can only hear one side of this, you know,” Tsuki complained.

“He’s saying he doesn’t have a regular body anymore and that it’s gone,” Saigo informed her.

“Gone? That’s just polite for ‘dead!’”

“Look, I don’t really want to get into it. It was a complicated situation that left me without a body, but I definitely don’t consider myself dead. Let’s just say I’m a…a soul or something, okay? A Warden soul. Hey, that sounds pretty cool…”

“I’m not going to call you that,” Saigo said, shaking his head. “Soul is fine.” He looked over at Tsuki. “He says there was a complicated situation that left him without a body.”

“But he did have one?”

“Oh, definitely. Good body, too. I lost it, is all.”

“What does that mean?”

“What does what mean?” Tsuki demanded.

“He says he ‘lost’ it,” Saigo said.

“Where’d he lose it?”

“That’s not a bad question,” Saigo said thoughtfully. “Hadvo, where did you—”

“We are not going on a hunt for my body, all right? There’s nothing left of it anyways. That’s what I mean when I say it’s gone.”

“Wait, were you cremated?”

“…Yes.”

“…I mean, that sounds like ‘dead’ to me.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you want to say about it. But I’m not dead and I’m not a ghost. Can we stop talking about this?”

“Okay, so you died and got cremated but you’re not dead and not a ghost and talking about all this is actually really helpful to you and we should keep digging into it,” Saigo said seriously.

“HEY.”

“All right, all right, backing off,” Saigo said, grinning. “You realize you’re going to have to give me all the details someday, right?”

Hadvo didn’t reply immediately. Saigo’s smile faltered, fading more and more with every silent second.

“…Yeah, I do. Let’s not talk about it until then.”

“…Okay,” Saigo said.

“What’s going on?” Tsuki demanded. “What did he say?”

“Just that it’s a…sensitive subject,” Saigo said, giving her a meaningful glance. “Let’s give it a rest for now.”

Tsuki shrugged.

“Fine by me,” she said. “You still have a lot to answer for. Like, what’s the deal with that stick you’ve been carrying this whole time?”

Saigo blinked at her, then looked down at the wooden rod in his hand with faint surprise.

“Oh. That,” he said, hefting it. He’d noticed it before, but it really was unusually heavy.

No. No, it couldn’t actually be…could it?

He held it up to his ear and flicked it, listening carefully to the sound.

He flicked it again…and then a third time…

…and a fourth, just to make sure…

“Uh…hello?”

Saigo looked up. He’d come to a complete stop in the middle of the trail, and Tsuki was several paces ahead, staring back at him with incredulous bafflement.

“Hm?” he said.

“Don’t ‘hm’ at me! What are you doing?”

“Actually, yeah, what are you doing?”

“What? Oh. I was just trying to figure out if this was wood or not,” Saigo said, waggling the rod.

“What else would it be?” Tsuki asked as he caught up with her.

“Khenmor,” Saigo said.

A few seconds later, it was his turn to look over his shoulder and see Tsuki standing frozen in place, gawping at him.

“It’s not khenmor,” Saigo clarified.

Tsuki shut her mouth with a faint clop sound.

“Shatter me, just say that in the first place!” she said, catching up at him. “I was about to have a heart attack. But…you’re sure it’s not khenmor?”

“Pretty sure,” Saigo said, noting the way her eyes followed the rod. “It’s just really dense wood, which has a very different sound from metal. Believe me, I would have fainted outright if I found out I was holding a branch of raw khenmor.”

“How sure exactly is ‘pretty sure?’” Tsuki asked, reaching for the rod.

Saigo lifted it out of her reach, more out of reflex than wariness. That said, there was something in her expression—some edge of hunger—that made his hackles prick.

Their eyes met, and her reaching hand clenched, and for a fraction of a second Saigo thought she might hit him—

—but she didn’t. Her hand fell to her side, and her shoulders relaxed from their moment of tension.

“…It’s really just wood?” she asked.

“I’m certain,” Saigo said, and held out the rod. “Here, test it yourself. Just don’t break it, please.”

Tsuki blinked at him, then gingerly took the rod. Her ears perked up as it settled in her hands, and she hefted it, flicking it a couple times in a clumsy imitation of Saigo’s earlier motion.

She sighed.

“Yeah, I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be listening for,” she said, handing it back. “I’ll take your word for it. Where’d you find that thing in the stone circle, anyways? You dig it up?”

“No, the Stoneblood gave it to me.”

“Ha, yeah,” Tsuki said, as Saigo tucked the rod into his pack. “Seriously though, we couldn’t see anything through all that mist. Was there some kind of…some kind of…uh…”

She trailed off.

“…Wait,” she said after several seconds. “Wait, no. Did you actually…?”

“It wasn’t him him, not exactly,” Saigo said quickly. “He told me he was more of a living memory, rather than being an actual soul. But, you know, we…talked. Back and forth.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“If I were any more serious I’d be dead.”

“I thought all that stuff you and the chief and Olen were saying was, was, was hyperbole or something! Talking about speaking and introducing and hearing and all that shit! You’re telling me you talked with him? He was there? Not just memories in the stone?”

Saigo nodded silently.

Tsuki tilted her head back and pressed her palms into her eyes.

“Sul’s waves, it’s like you make bizarre,” she moaned. “Okay. Okay, fine. You talked with another ghost. That’s three ghosts now, two of them members of the Fourfront. You’re…you’re some kind of ghost magnet, that’s what you are. Ghost in your head, Starseer ghost under the Harbor, Stoneblood ghost in the forest. Yeah.”

She dropped her hands and shook her head vigorously.

“Okay,” she said. “You talked with the Stoneblood. What did he say, exactly?”

“Uh…it’s all a bit of a blur, honestly,” Saigo confessed. “I’m also realizing I’ve gone almost four cycles without proper sleep, so I’m definitely feeling a little…fuzzy around the edges. And we’re hardly out of the woods when it comes to the Krovkin, both literally and figuratively, so—”

“So skip the fine detail!” Tsuki said impatiently. “Come on, you can’t say you talked to the ‘memory of the Stoneblood’ or whatever and then not say anything! At least tell me what the stick’s about!”

“That I can do,” Saigo said, blinking heavily. The trees on the edges of his vision were starting to swim. “He said it would…help with the next step on the path. And, uh, as for the next step itself…he said I needed to find ‘where the Soulspark first broke their chains.’”

“Okay, and where’s that? I’m assuming you already know.”

“Well, historically, the Soulspark made their first and biggest moves where Fjali is now,” Saigo yawned, rubbing his eyes. “I think…I think they grew up as a slave, and the event that started their involvement in the Insurgence was when they destroyed a Saisho prison of some kind. That’s all I remember at the moment, but…yeah. Fjali.”

He fought back another, significantly stronger yawn. It took him a few seconds to realize somebody was talking to him.

“What?” he mumbled.

In response to his question, two hands clamped his arms to his sides and lifted him into the air.

“Come on, wake up!” Tsuki snapped, shaking him up and down. “No sleeping until we’re back on the main road at least!”

“Gwuh-uh-uh-uh-uh-gh-gh-gh!” Saigo said reproachfully.

Tsuki set him down with enough force to make his paws sting and knees buckle. He stood there for a moment, waiting for his brain to stop rattling around in his skull.

“Please don’t ever do that again,” he said, wobbling forward.

“I won’t, so long as you don’t fall asleep standing upright again,” Tsuki said, matching his pace. “So. Fjali, huh? You think that’s where the next clue will be?”

“It’s just a guess for now, but it can’t hurt to start heading that direction,” Saigo said, fighting off another yawn before reaching into one of his pack pockets and pulling out his map.

“Sounds fun. I’ve never been to Fjali, but it’s about time. What do they have over there?”

“Mountains, snow, forests, snow, and mountains,” Saigo said, tracing a claw along their route. “Oh, and forests. Big ones. And snow. Lots of snow this time of year.”

“That’s great to hear,” Tsuki said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “So that’s it? We’re just going to head straight for Fjali?”

“Ask me after I’ve had a nap,” Saigo said, squinting at his smudged map. “Did you have another destination in mind?”

“No.”

“Well okay then. If you do have other places to go, though, let me know. At present…”

“‘At present’ what?” Tsuki asked when he didn’t finish.

“At present…I have no idea where the nearest town is,” Saigo said, lowering his map. “My map cuts off at the bottom edge of the forest.”

“What? Who sells a map like that?”

“Nobody,” Saigo sighed. “I used to have a proper map, but then there was this whole thing when I was in a ruin and I ran into some kind of crawfish monster that could turn invisible and…and I don’t have the energy to explain, but you get it. Fjali is up, though, so I figure we just keep following the main road and we’ll hit a town eventually.”

“Yeah, and then you can buy a proper map,” Tsuki grunted.

“Sure,” Saigo said, folding up his map and replacing it. “Seriously though, the moment we get to the main road I’m taking a nap. It’s that or you’ll have to carry me to the next town.”

“Fine. But I’ll decide when you wake up.”

“Please just jostle me or something, will you?”

“We’ll see.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Slumber 59, A.R. 372

“Okay…if I’m looking at this right…the nearest port is a little less than a day’s travel up the coast,” Saigo said, tracing the line of the road on his crisp, brand-new world map. “With some luck, we’ll arrive before tomorrow’s Thoughtgale hits.”

He looked over at Tsuki, who was leaning against the wall of the small Hubb he’d just come out of and frowning at passerby.

“…Are you really sure about this?” he asked.

Tsuki tore her gaze away from a couple of passing capracine kids.

“What?” she said. “Oh. Yeah, I told you yesterday, didn’t I? What, you don’t want me along?”

“I told you yesterday that it wasn’t anything like that,” Saigo said, carefully folding up his new map and tucking it away. “Believe me, I appreciate the help, but we are talking about going to a completely different province.”

“And why exactly do you think that’s the slightest bit concerning to me?” Tsuki said, pushing off the wall and joining him as they began to meander toward the northern edge of town. “Considering how little you had to go off of for the Harbor, Fjali’s practically a certainty.”

“Well…it’s less about the reliability of ghost-given clues and more about whether it’s too much…out of your way,” Saigo said, picking his words with the same care as one would balance an egg on a toothpick.

Tsuki gave him exactly the kind of look he’d been expecting, though this one was a little less dirty than usual—more exasperated than angry.

“I just don’t want to inconvenience you,” Saigo said quickly. “It’s obvious that your business is very personal to you, but, you know…I can’t tell where the edges are. I don’t know if traveling to a whole other province will be disruptive or not.”

“I still don’t know if you’re being considerate or a creep,” Tsuki said, wrinkling her nose at him. “Just relax, will you? Believe me, I'll let you know if you become an inconvenience.”

“Those last two statements seem contradictory,” Saigo said. “If it does come to that, though, I’d prefer a detailed letter over a snowball dropped on my face while I’m sleeping, which wasn’t the rudest awakening I’ve ever experienced, but it’s definitely up there.”

“Oh, please, I let you nap for a whole half-cycle.”

“The majority of which you spent looking for fresh snow, apparently. And taking your own nap.”

 “Wha—!? How did you—oh, shatter me, did he tell you that? He was watching?” Tsuki said, bristling. “Where is he? Tell me! Ghost or not, I’ll kick his ass—”

“Okay, even if you could, fighting a ghost neither of us can see in the middle of town might draw attention,” Saigo said, holding in a grin. “Besides, I don’t think he’s here right now.”

“Not here? What, does he just walk off?”

“No, no, he can’t really go all that far from me when he’s here,” Saigo said. “But there’s times when he’s just…somewhere else.”

“What? Where?”

“I don’t know. I think…”

He stopped himself.

“Think what?” Tsuki asked.

“…Never mind,” Saigo said. “It doesn’t really matter. He’s still here pretty regularly.”

Tsuki squinted at him, then appeared to decide it wasn’t worth her time.

“Why’s he got to be invisible, anyways?” she grumbled, kicking at a loose rock as the road began to transition from stone to dirt. “I don’t like the idea of him skulking around, especially when he doesn’t have a proper face to punch in.”

“You go invisible all the time too, you know,” Saigo said pointedly. “I mean, I know you say it’s not invisibility, but I don’t know what else to call it.”

“You don’t need to call it anything,” Tsuki said, scowling. “It’s just a thing I do.”

Saigo tugged at his whiskers thoughtfully.

“No…” he said vaguely. “No, there was something—oh! That’s what it was! Fading!”

“What now?”

“Back in—” Saigo glanced around at the not-terribly-crowded edge of town and lowered his voice anyway. “Back when we were…breaking out. You and your guard were arguing about something they called ‘fading,’ right? They talked about it like it wasn’t magic, and they called your thing an imitation. Are they similar at all?”

“Wha—excuse me? Imitation?” Tsuki sputtered. “Let’s get one thing straight, jak: that half-baked disappearing act those bears had going on was the shoddiest knock-off I’ve ever seen. They didn’t even know how to breathe right! It was the forest doing all the work! Ano’s eyes, imitation, those tree-scratchers couldn’t hide behind a closed door—oh, shatter me!”

The swear came as a result of her looking over and making eye contact with Saigo, who was not nearly quick enough about wiping the look of keen interest off his face.

“Don’t you start!” she snapped, her ears flattening.

“I didn’t ask anything yet?” Saigo said.

“Yeah, don’t start!”

Saigo didn’t start.

Tsuki appeared to be wrestling for words, grimacing to herself and tangling her fingers in the choppy curls behind her ears.

“…All right,” she finally said. “Is there any chance I can convince and/or threaten you to forget everything you heard?”

“Not really, no,” Saigo said.

 “Thought so,” Tsuki sighed. “Fine. Go ahead and ask.”

“Really?!”

“Tone it down, will you?” Tsuki hissed. “Ano’s sparks, I’m already regretting this…and it’s not a free-for-all, understand? This is just to stop you prodding at me.”

“Okay. Okay. Okay,” Saigo said, trying to slow his breathing. “Um…oh, Sul, where do I even start…”

“Why are you talking like you’re ordering at a bakery for a family of eight? Just ask your sharding questions!”

“I don’t want to mess up! Okay, okay. So: your thing—which I don’t know the name of—and the Krovkin’s ‘fading:’ they’re not magical in nature, right?”

Tsuki grunted an affirmation

“What are they, then?”

“They’re…techniques,” Tsuki said reluctantly. “And again, those bears were being really sloppy about it.”

“And breathing’s a part of it?”

“It’s part of the foundation, yeah,” Tsuki said.

“Okay. Great. So what does it actually do? And how is what you do different from what the Krovkin were doing? Also, does your thing have an actual name? And if it’s not magical but instead a ‘technique’ does that mean anyone can learn how to do it? And when you disappear, is it more than—”

Tsuki reached up and clamped Saigo’s mouth shut.

“Relax,” she ordered.

Saigo nodded gingerly, and she let him go.

“Try again,” she said. “One question.”

“…How does it work?” Saigo asked.

Tsuki sighed.

“All right…shards, how do I explain this…” she muttered. “Um...you know how you can usually tell when someone’s behind you without having to look?”

“Like…hearing them? Smelling?” Saigo said.

“No, not…well, yes, kind of, but telling without paying attention.”

“Oh, you mean subconsciously?”

“…Sure. Hackles go up, that kind of thing. Wi—the thing I do is all about…removing yourself from that.”

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait…wait,” Saigo said, mind working furiously to get a grip on Tsuki’s slippery description. “So you’re…removing yourself from other people’s subconsciousness?”

“Yeah. Sort of. Wait, no. It’s not—it doesn’t affect other people. I’m not doing something to people. I’m just…shatter me, it’s like—like pulling myself up by my own tail, okay? Stepping out of view.”

“And that makes you…disappear?”

“No, no, no, I’m still there, it’s just that people can’t see or smell or hear me anymore,” Tsuki said impatiently. “It’s like, taking my weight and putting it outside, you know? But I go with it. And the weight’s still there but people don’t notice it because I picked it up, so their brains don’t believe themselves about me being there. It’s about layers.”

“…All right, I’m officially lost,” Saigo said. “And this isn’t magic?”

“No, it’s not!” Tsuki said. “Shard it all, that’s enough questions. I’ve told you everything I’m going to. Figure out the rest for yourself.”

“Wait, no!” Saigo protested. “At least tell me what the Krovkin were doing and how it was different!”

Tsuki gave him a sour look.

“…Fine,” she growled. “They’re basically completely different techniques anyways. They were letting the forest cover them instead of stepping out of it. Sloppy and easy to see through. That enough of an explanation?”

“It sounds like the best one I’m going to get,” Saigo said.

“That’s true,” Tsuki snorted. “And I’m serious when I say that’s the end of it. No more questions until we get to…wherever.”

“Taruu,” Saigo said.

“Yeah—wait, what?” Tsuki said, whirling on him. “We’re going to Taruu?”

“…Yes?” Saigo said hesitantly. “Is…is that bad? Have you been there before?”

Tsuki’s face shut down, and she looked forward again.

“I’ve…visited. In the past,” she said. “It’s nothing much to look at. And you want a charter passage to Fjali while we’re there?”

“Yes,” Saigo said, deciding not to prod the metaphorical bruise hanging in the air. “I might have to look around for an uncleared ruin in the vicinity before we can do that, though. I’m running low on hatch.”

“What? I thought you still had forty-something left.”

“No, the map alone was a grafting and a half all on its own, and then I had to buy food and all that…anyways, I’m down to around nine. Oh! Before I forget…”

Saigo dug into his pack and pulled out a small, corked bottle, which he held out to Tsuki.

“What’s this?” she asked suspiciously, taking it.

“Tama oil,” Saigo said. “It’s good for maintaining blades, stops them from rusting and that kind of thing. I noticed you take a lot of care to clean your knives, but it didn’t look like you had much more than a cloth. Thought you could use it.”

“…Oh,” Tsuki said. “Um…thanks. You…you got this today?”

“Yeah. Was that all right? Did you already have some and I completely missed it? Should I have asked first?”

“No…no, it’s fine. I didn’t have any,” Tsuki said, staring at the bottle for a few more seconds before tucking it away.

She cleared her throat.

“…Something else we should probably talk about before we get to…Taruu,” she said, making a face like the word tasted of vinegar. “Have you got papers?”

“I…have a good amount of paper, yeah,” Saigo said. “Do you need to write something or—”

“No, penhead, I’m talking about identification papers,” Tsuki sighed. “Lineage, hometown, gestaltion date, birth date, stuff like that. For traveling between provinces. Legally.”

“Oh…” Saigo’s voice trailed off in tandem with the sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. “You…need those?”

“Yeah. You’ve never been out of Kaiko?”

“Uh…not that I remember, no,” Saigo said. He ran a hand through his hair. “Well, that’s fantastic. Do you have papers?”

“No, but that doesn’t matter much,” Tsuki said. “Makes things simpler, really.”

“How so?”

Tsuki gave him a sidelong look.

“Do you really need me to answer that?” she said.

Saigo sighed.

“No…” he said. “There’s going to be some convoluted and legally dubious workaround, isn’t there?”

Tsuki wrinkled her muzzle at him. “What? No. Who do you think I am?”

Saigo brightened up uncertainly.

“It’s straightforward and it’s definitely illegal, thank you very much."

“Ah,” Saigo said, slumping. “I should have guessed. Care to share any of the details?”

“That can wait.”

“…All right.”

^^^^

Slumber 60, A.R. 372

The northern coast of South Kaiko kept Saigo and Tsuki constant-if-distant company throughout the day and sent regular blasts of bitter wind their way over the course of the night.

The morning saw the road coated with a thin dusting of snow, cold enough to freeze the mud and slush left over from the last halfhearted melt. The shifting grey-white blur of the Olind Sea crept ever-closer as they slogged on, storm clouds building overhead all the while.

Saigo could hear the muted roar of waves by the time they rounded a particularly scrubby hill and the port city of Taruu came into full view.

He’d been mentally bracing himself for something like Daitan, a little skulking and crooked and shabby, clinging to the edge of the water like a barnacle to the hull of a ship.

Taruu was…not quite the same.

For one, it was much bigger. Nowhere near the size of Jumon, of course, but it rested comfortably across several low, rolling hills, blanketing the landscape up to the sea like a brick-and-tile quilt.

Perhaps the perspective had something to do with it, but the city seemed to rise and fall just like the waves on the sea. Spires and towers punched the sky, then receded as roads descended a hillside, then rose again in clusters of tiered buildings later on.

Saigo couldn’t see much of the port itself beyond a few jutting docks, lined with single-mast sailing ships and fringed with rowboats. What few larger vessels were on the water in the greater distance were making a beeline for the city, the reason for which became clear when Saigo looked up at the sky and saw the first hints of a growing haze, rapidly approaching.

He exchanged a glance with Tsuki, and they both sped up.

They reached the gates just as it hit.

Saigo’s skull rattled with the familiar buzzing thrum of the Wave. It faded away after several seconds, leaving a taste of old iron in the back of his throat.

Stumbling a bit and shaking off the afterhum, Saigo followed Tsuki past ushering Peacekeepers and into the bustle of a city following the well-established practice of making as much noise as possible in the process of taking cover—shouts of warning, calm or otherwise, flew back and forth across a shifting crowd, painted with the cries of infants who had yet to acclimate to the pressure of the Wave. Doors and windows slammed, vendors shouted out last-minute pre-Gale specials, and Peacekeepers struggled to make themselves heard as they directed people into every available sheltered public space.

Saigo and Tsuki latched onto the tail end of a cluster of people crowding into a shop, the door nearly catching Saigo’s tail when someone slammed it behind him.

What little space wasn’t taken up by the press of bodies was shortly filled with heat and noise as people continued their conversations from the street.

Saigo and Tsuki found themselves squashed against the wall nearest the door. Saigo shifted idly on his paws, clutching the straps of his pack and silently praying Hadvo’s sword wasn’t poking out of its covering.

Before long, a rumble shook the store, announcing the arrival of the Gale. It was followed by expectant shushing from the store’s occupants as ears strained, Saigo’s among them as the noise built, and built, and built—

The true storm broke on the walls of the shop, disembodied voices pelting the roof and washing up against the walls. The occasional sliver of sensation seeped through the cracks, sending disembodied smells floating through the crowd and briefly filling Saigo’s mouth with the taste of tree bark and watered-down ink.

Minutes trickled past, the rain of stimuli swelling and calming in turn, until at last it faded for good. Even before complete silence fell, the door to the shop opened, and Saigo and Tsuki spilled out into the road at the head of the crowd.

They stumbled over to the side of the road to a gap between a couple buildings, slightly removed from the rapidly refilling thoroughfare.

Saigo took a deep breath of clear, crisp air.

“Glad that’s over,” he said, flicking a feather off his shoulder. “As much as I like people, that was too many and too close. You all good?”

“I’m fine,” Tsuki said, dusting herself off. “Here, catch.”

Saigo turned in time to fumble her tossed bag, barely snatching it up by the strap before it hit the ground.

“What’s this about?” he said, hefting it carefully.

“What do you think? I’m going to go get us a boat to Fjali,” Tsuki said, turning and walking into the alleyway. “Go find a library or something and entertain yourself until I’ve got things sorted out. I’ll track you down when I’m done.”

“Wha—you’re going right now? We just got here!” Saigo protested, following her.

“Best time to get stuff done,” Tsuki said, swinging her arms and cracking her neck. “Don’t lose my stuff. Don’t go pawing through it, either.”

 “Oh, come on, you can’t just—”

“I told you I’d take care of things when we got here, didn’t I?” Tsuki said, cutting him off. “Worry about keeping yourself out of trouble in the meantime, and don’t even think about trying to follow me.”

“Yeah, it’s already a bit late for that,” Saigo said, slinging her bag over his shoulder. “Can we please just talk about this? You never even explained how you’re planning to find us passage.”

“I told you not to worry about it.”

“You did, but I think we both know that’s an instruction I have a really hard time following.”

Tsuki sighed and turned back to face him.

“Just trust me, will you?” she said. “Find something to do, and I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“You promise?”

The words were out of Saigo’s mouth before he had time to think about them. They hovered in the air, just beneath the hum of the crowd somewhere behind them.

Tsuki’s stark violet eyes glinted in a stray shaft of sunlight. She nodded.

“…Yeah,” she said. “I promise.”

They maintained eye contact for another second, and then she turned and walked toward the end of the alleyway, flickering out of existence long before she reached the wall.

Saigo stared at the empty alley, then turned back to the street with a sigh, checking that Tsuki’s bag was secure under his arm. A quick glance up and down the road told him no one seemed to be paying him any attention whatsoever.

“Well…that was a little dramatic.”

“Gah! How long have you been here?” Saigo whispered, shaking off the shock of Hadvo’s sudden voice and stepping out of the alleyway.

“A while now. You’re sure about just leaving her to go do who-knows-what?”

“It’s not like I have any way to follow her,” Saigo muttered under his breath. “Sometimes you’ve got to trust because you’ve got no other choice, you know?”

“…Yeah, I think I know what you mean. Where are you heading now?”

Saigo glanced up at a long row of overhanging shop signs, then further up and along the urban landscape, his eye lingering on the gentle rise of large buildings in the center of the city.

“…I think I might follow her advice,” he said.

Chapter Text

Slumber 60, A.R. 372

It took several minutes of purposeful wandering before Saigo found himself standing in front of a particular building, his hope made manifest.

“I can’t say I’m surprised, Saigo, but I am amazed you found it so fast. Does it give off a scent I’m not picking up on or something?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” Saigo murmured, climbing the steps to the pillar-framed entrance of a grand library.

Inside, black-and-gold carpets paved the way to and between enormous, book-packed shelves. A heavy counter stood between Saigo and the promise of a uniquely uneventful afternoon, kinned by a few librarians all wearing Scholarium armbands.

A bespectacled capracine looked up as he approached, her thick white hair bound into a few long braids and strung in an ornate web between her gently corkscrewing horns. She gave him a gentle smile, her rectangular pupils glancing over his scruffy appearance and the extra bag slung over one shoulder.

“Good afternoon,” she said softly, bowing. “What can I help you with? Are you certified?”

“With the Scholarium? I’m afraid not, mell,” Saigo whispered, bowing back. “I was just hoping to browse for the afternoon. Is that all right?”

“Of course,” the librarian said. “You’ll just need to sign in and leave your belongings in the other room. We provide private chests, and you’ll hold on to the key for the duration of your stay.”

“That sounds safe enough. I’ll keep an eye on your and Tsuki’s things, if you’re worried.”

Saigo nodded, hesitantly at first and then decisively.

“Thank you, that sounds fine,” he said.

The librarian presented a paper with a short list of names on it, which Saigo signed, carefully, as Honto Gimei.

“Thank you,” the librarian murmured. “Follow me, please.”

Saigo followed her to a door off to the side of the counter, which she unlocked. Square, polished wooden chests lined the walls of the room, tasseled keys hanging from most of their locks.

Saigo quickly unloaded everything into the chest farthest from the door, pausing only to dig a few loose sheets of paper and his worn inkpen out of his pack. Tucking them under one arm, he locked the chest, pocketed the key, and followed the librarian out of the room.

“Enjoy your visit,” she said softly, ushering him past the counter.

Saigo walked slowly into the library proper, dust motes swirling in the light from high windows, breathing in the smell of paper and glue and dried ink and faded leather…

Oh, yes. This was what he’d been missing out on.

^^^^

…it was the Saisho Ikumasu’s greed that would be her own undoing. The common people under her rule had spent decades mining precious metals for her to decorate her palace with, and their tunnels honeycombed the bedrock directly beneath it—tunnels now occupied by the Insurgent Army, and with one great push, they would carve their way straight up through the earth and into the heart of her sanctum.

The labor itself was made trivial thanks to Stoneblood. A single thrust of his spear was enough to cut a tunnel through solid rock, broad enough for four to march abreast—

Saigo paused, placing a finger on the paragraph to keep his spot and turning to the paper on his right side. He scribbled a quick note under the ‘Stoneblood’ entry, then returned to the book.

…met by one of the Saisho Ikumasu’s monstrous guards, a shadow-cloaked beast with a whip-like tail that could sever a kin’s head from their neck in the blink of an eye—

“Saigo?”

Saigo jumped, losing his place.

“Hadvo!” he whispered, closing the book quickly. “Sorry, you surprised me. What…what’s up?”

“Nothing much. Find anything interesting?”

“I find everything interesting,” Saigo said. “As for finding something new or different…no, not really.”

“I’m, uh, seeing a lot of…Fourfront stuff here. Trying to follow up on the Stoneblood’s clue?”

Saigo looked at the pile of books on the table in front of him, the majority half-open, some strewn farther as if they’d been shoved away in irritation.

“…Yes,” he said. “Again, nothing new. I still think Fjali’s our best bet, but where exactly in Fjali is…uncertain. There’s plenty about the Soulspark’s origin as a…as a member of the Fourfront, but not much about where it all started for them.”

“Sorry you haven’t had much luck with the specifics. Is there…anything I can help with?”

Saigo drummed his claws on the table.

“No…no, I don’t think so,” he said carefully. “Thanks for asking.”

“Okay. No problem.”

Saigo nodded, staring down at the closed book in front of him, hackles prickling gently. Silence perused the shelves, invisible fingers brushing weathered spines.

Saigo pushed his book away and pulled a new one toward him, opening it to a random page.

“All right, what gives?”

Saigo jumped again, the book leaping out of his hands like a startled salmon and landing pages down. He snatched it up, straightened out the creases, and snapped it shut before they could bend back.

“Hadvo!” he hissed. “Shatter me, I thought you left!”

“No I didn’t leave! What’s your deal, huh? This is our first time alone since the forest and you’ve been sitting here reading about Wardens and you haven’t asked me a single sharding question! Are you sick or something?”

Saigo opened his mouth to retort and found it empty, the crooked wrongness of the last couple minutes choking the words before they could clamber off his tongue. Yes, normally he’d be all over the chance to prod Hadvo for answers, especially after the revelation in the midst of mist and stones, but, but—

“Come on, Saigo, what’s going on? I thought you’d be on my ass the second you sat down on yours!”

Saigo mumbled a reply.

“What was that?”

“I was worried you wouldn’t tell me anything!”

Saigo slumped in his seat, ears burning.

“…Oh.”

“Back in the forest, you said you’d tell me more later,” Saigo whispered, massaging his forehead. “You know how many times I’ve heard that compared to how many times it’s been ‘later?’ I…I kept thinking about it, but…I don’t know. Something as huge as you being a Warden…for once, asking was scarier than not.”

Silence returned, circling the table.

“…Shards, Saigo, I’m sorry. I…look, it’s true that there’s a lot of stuff I can’t talk about, and I wish I could. Sul I wish I could. But please, never stop asking. Someday I’ll be able to answer properly, I promise you that.”

An invisible hand squeezed Saigo’s shoulder.

“In the meantime…I can talk about my Warden situation a bit.”

Saigo’s ears perked.

“Really?” he whispered.

“Yeah. It’s…the whole thing’s a bit complicated, and some parts of it I don’t understand very well, but I’ll try to answer what I can.”

Saigo nodded slowly, considering this.

“From the looks of it, you’ve been taking notes on…Warden magic?”

“…Yeah, kind of,” Saigo said, pulling his notes toward him. “There’s a lot about what the Fourfront could do, but most of it is speculation. There’s not a lot about how what they could do worked, though. I mean, did they have anchors? If they did, were their anchors separate from the power they got from the Celestials, or were their anchors an extension of the power? And I can’t find anything about channels, which have got to be related to channelers somehow.”

“…Can I have those questions one more time?”

“Okay, okay, let’s start smaller,” Saigo said, shuffling his notes and putting a mostly-fresh page on top. “Do you have an anchor? Actually, would you even be able to tell? Do you have a physical body? I mean, you kind of do, but can you even see it?”

“Once again, Saigo, you’ve got to slow down. Yes, I can see myself. The body situation is…strange. But yeah, I’ve got some anchors. I know that much.”

“Wait…’some?’ As in multiple?”

“Is that bad?”

“You’re a ghost Warden speaking directly into my head who’s only corporeal sometimes. I think we’re long past the point of knowing what constitutes ‘good’ or ‘bad’ in this situation. What makes you sure they’re all anchors?”

“Not a ghost. And yeah, I’m pretty sure they’re anchors. There’s four of them.”

“Four? Where are they located? What do they look like?”

“They’re, uh…look, I can’t stress this enough, the body situation is weird. I think they’re a little different from normal anchors. They’re mostly, uh, symbols. I can’t see them very well. But there’s one on my chest, one on the back of my neck, one on my right hand, and one on my left shoulder.”

Saigo automatically reached up and touched his own left shoulder, where an invisible hand had rested more than a few times in his weeks of wakefulness.

“That’s…interesting,” he said. His brain caught up with the moment, and he bent over his notes, writing furiously.

“Is there any way you can show me, or draw them, or describe what they look like—?”

“I told you, I can’t see them very well. They’re just…kind of blocky.”

“Right, we can come back to that,” Saigo muttered, still scribbling notes. “Maybe we can figure out more about your body, how it works. Not a ghost, but not organic? Something in-between? If you’ve got anchors, you must have a source of magic, so does that mean you have a quelle like everyone else? Do you have other organs as well? You don’t need to breathe and you can move through walls, but you’re also kind of tied to me and the sword and can’t go too far—”

“Celestials you sound absolutely insane right now.”

Saigo jerked, swiping a wide line across his notes and scattering several papers. He twisted, his tail almost catching in the chair, every inch of fur on his body puffing out.

Tsuki grinned at him with only the slightest trace of humor.

Saigo slumped back, clutching at his chest and trying to shake the feeling that someone had stabbed him in the heart with a tuning fork.

“Shard me…” he said faintly. “Tsuki, you…”

He shook his head, lost for words. With some effort, he bent over and picked up his fallen notes, hands shaking.

He straightened up again and flinched—in the time he had been recovering his papers, Tsuki had padded silently around the table and sat down across from him, elbow on the table and fist propping up her chin.

“Can you please not do that?” Saigo said, doing his best to straighten his notes with still-trembling fingers.

“Too late,” she said, her eyes wandering across the disorderly pile of books in front of him.

“Next time, then,” Saigo said. “Or never again, preferably. One of these days my heart’s going to explode.”

Tsuki offered no reply beyond scrunching her muzzle at him and went back to squinting at the books.

Saigo noted she was wearing her black gloves, the ones with iron studs set into the back of the hand. There were…yes, bloodstains, those were bloodstains. Not a lot. Smeared. On the studs. Fresh. He could smell it.

He coaxed his imagination down from the tree it was climbing and put a box over it for later.

“So…did you finish up whatever it was you were doing?” he asked cautiously. “It’s only been…”

“Half a cycle?” Tsuki said, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Wow, really?” Saigo said. “Sorry, I completely lost track of time.”

“It was plenty for me to take care of things, so whatever,” Tsuki said idly. “More importantly, where’s my stuff?”

“It’s in a side room, locked up. I’ve got the key,” Saigo said. “Hadvo?”

“Hold on.”

Silence for a moment.

“Yeah, no problems.”

“It hasn’t been touched,” Saigo said.

“Hold up. What does Hadvo have to do with this?” Tsuki demanded.

“I—shards, I forget what you don’t know,” Saigo said, dropping his voice even quieter. “He was keeping an eye on our things. He’s connected the sword, so he can go back and forth between it and me.”

“That’s…creepy,” Tsuki said.

“If you say so, but it’s been helpful more often than not,” Saigo said, standing up and starting to stack his books. “Did you have any trouble finding me?”

“Not really. You still haven’t washed that spell vest, you know?”

“I have! Twice since you first mentioned it!”

“Well it’s obviously not doing much good,” Tsuki said flatly. “I expected you’d be here anyways. Let’s get going.”

“Going where?”

“Fjali, obviously. Our ship leaves in an hour.”

Saigo stopped halfway through aligning the spines of the books in front of him and looked at her.

“An—what?” he said. “How did you manage that?”

“How do you think? Hatch makes happy,” Tsuki said, cracking another mirthless grin. “It’s easy enough if you know who to talk to.”

“And are you…okay?” Saigo asked, unable to stop his glance at the smudged blood on the back of her glove.

She followed the flicker, and if Saigo hadn’t been watching her face, he almost certainly would have missed the flash of panic across it, followed shortly by a wall of stone.

“Oh, that?” she said, turning her wrist to inspect the bloodstained studs. “Don’t worry about that. It’s mine.”

“You said that last part like it was an actual reason to not be concerned,” Saigo said. “What hap—”

“I said don’t worry about it,” Tsuki snapped.

She stood up, her chair screeching backward and rocking on its legs.

“I’ll see you outside,” she said, and disappeared.

Silence crept back around the corner of a bookshelf and settled in Tsuki’s vacated chair.

“…What was that about?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Saigo muttered, stacking the last of the books and tucking his notes under his arm.

“We both know that’s not true. How do you think she managed passage that quick?”

“Not sure. I can only hope it doesn’t make the news sheet.”

Within four minutes, he was out of the library and back in the crisp slumber air. He reached the bottom of the steps and looked around, trying to find—

“Across the street.”

Saigo looked and saw Tsuki standing outside a small clothing boutique, breath misting, glaring up at the sky like she was docking it points for being the wrong shade of grey.

Saigo crossed the street and held out of her bag, which she accepted without looking at him. Before he could think to ask anything, she untied a pouch from her belt and shoved it into his hands.

It was quite a familiar-looking pouch, except for the weight and the rich chlink that came from being full of coins. In fact, it looked an awful lot like—

Saigo’s hand shot to his hip, closing around empty air where his coin pouch had previously hung, significantly more deflated than the one now sitting in his hand.

“What—this is mine!” he said. “How—when did you—”

“During the Thoughtgale,” Tsuki said, stepping past him. “You should keep a better eye on your stuff.”

“But—” Saigo opened the pouch and glanced inside. Mostly silver, mixed with copper and a few glints of gold. Shard him, that was a lot of money—more than he’d ever gotten from a Trade.

“I’m surprised it took you this long to notice,” Tsuki said, waving impatiently for him to keep up. “Come on, we’ve got a boat to catch.”

“Tsuki, there’s a lot of money in here!” Saigo hissed, trot-skipping after her. “Where did this all come from?”

“You want to talk about that now?” Tsuki said, with a meaningful glance at the street. It wasn’t crowded by any means, but it was a far cry from a secluded library corner. “How about a ‘thanks’ instead?”

“I…thank you,” Saigo mumbled, securing the pouch. “Are you—is there anything I can—”

“I’m fine,” Tsuki said, not looking at him. “I just…I just want to get out of here. Do me a favor and shut up for a while, will you?”

“…Okay.”

The harbor slowly came into view, especially on the downward slope. Ships of all sizes and shapes thronged the docks, more than any Saigo had ever seen before.

Of course, that wasn’t terribly surprising, given the fact the city sat on the coast of the actual Olind Sea. Mersha’s Pond couldn’t compare to the seemingly endless grey waters stretching out beyond the shore.

Somewhere across the waters—probably much closer than Saigo could accurately envision—Fjali awaited.

Shards, had he ever sailed before? There’d been the hours-long trip on Rip’s boat across the pond, but he couldn’t remember anything more than that. How big of a difference was it on the actual sea as opposed to an oversized lake? Would he get sick?

“So…which ship is ours?” Saigo whispered, scanning the approaching forest of masts.

“Doesn’t matter. We won’t be seeing much of it from the outside,” Tsuki said, taking a sharp turn into a narrow gap between buildings. “This way.”

“…I’m starting to draw some conclusions about how we’re getting across to Fjali,” Saigo said, squeezing after her.

“Good for you.”

“Firstly, I’m assuming we won’t be boarding the normal way.”

“By my paws and whiskers, how’d you figure that out?” Tsuki said, hopping a rickety fence.

“Well—oh, that was rhetorical. I’m not going to end up stuffed in a sack, am I?”

“That can be arranged.”

“Seriously though, where are we going?”

“You’ll see. Just keep quiet and follow.”

Saigo kept quiet and followed, around a few tight corners—

—through a hole in a wall disguised by a large plank—

—down into a dry canal reeking of dead fish—

—up the pipe it originated from—

—along a narrow offshoot—

“I really thought you’d be complaining by now,” Tsuki said.

“I’ve been in worse drains,” Saigo said.

—followed by another offshoot—

—and then another—

—and finally—

“Here,” Tsuki said, stopping in the middle of the pipe. It was small enough that even she needed to crouch, but now she stood up into a vertical offshoot and rapped—

clang-ka-kang-ang-clang

—on what sounded like a metal grate.

There was silence for a few seconds and then the sound of something heavy and wooden being pushed aside. Secondhand light dripped into the pipe, shortly blocked by a shadow.

“Who’zat?” a voice rasped.

“Red package for Captain Tilly,” Tsuki said briskly. “You’ll need an extra coil of rope to secure it.”

There was murmuring from up above, and then a creeee…chong! as the grate swung open on badly oiled hinges.

“Up ye come,” the voice said.

Saigo waited as Tsuki pulled herself up and out, then followed suit, emerging on the ground floor of what seemed to be a side room of a large warehouse. Further speculation was stalled by the presence of the people waiting for them, one of whom closed the grate behind Saigo and shoved a heavy crate over it with little more than a grunt.

The crate-pusher—a burly lutrine wearing only an open vest and a pair of string-tied shorts—dusted off his hands.

“Let’s be quick about it, then,” he said. “Loy’ta, barrels, you and me.”

One of the other sailors—a scruffy, black-feathered corvid avian—bobbed their head and followed the lutrine into the maze of crates and barrels.

The last remaining sailor—a lanky human with an eyepatch and a hooked nose—stared at them, her one beady eye giving Tsuki a cursory glance and then narrowing when it landed on Saigo.

Saigo stiffened when she stepped away from the crate she’d been leaning against and swaggered over. She stopped uncomfortably close, looming over him by several inches, a ragged scar curling around the left side of her mouth.

Saigo’s eye darted to Tsuki, who was watching with an expression of mild interest, though not the kind that made one liable to intervene.

Saigo looked back at the human.

“…Nice to meet you?” he said.

Her face broke out into a broad grin, and she reached up and tapped the heavy patch over her eye.

“You look like you could use of one o’ these, tom,” she said hoarsely. “You get more looks if it’s uncovered, y’know.”

Saigo processed this.

“I’ve been meaning to make one, actually,” he said, his shoulders starting to come down from where they’d been hugging his ears.

“Oh yeah? Tip for you, then: velvet don’t rub near as bad as cloth,” the sailor said conspiratorially. “Costs a few line more, but it’s worth it. If you just want somethin’ to last, though, leather’s your friend.”

“That’s…good to know, thank you,” Saigo said. “I was considering leather, actually. What happened for yours?”

“Take it for the warning it is, tom,” the human said, slouching back to her crate as the last drops of tension drained away. “Never hold a fork prongs up when you’re eating on rough waters.”

Saigo nodded sympathetically.

“Drunk quasus during a festival,” he said. “Hit me teeth first.”

“That’s nasty, that is,” the sailor chuckled. “Anyhow, red package? Been a while, but we’ll get you across snap-quick.”

On cue, the lutrine and avian returned, rolling large barrels and wobbling them upright in front of Saigo and Tsuki.

“In ye pop,” the lutrine said. “Should be plenty room for ye and yers. We’ll let ye roam a bit after we cast off, but no more’n about the carbo bay, y’hear?”

“Whatever you say,” Tsuki said, hopping in. “How long’s the trip?”

“Couple of days,” the human said, nodding at the barrel in front of Saigo. “Don’t you worry, red packages mean meals are included.”

“That’s very generous of you,” Saigo said, carefully setting his pack and the sword into the barrel before clambering in himself.

“Nah, mate, it’s very generous of you,” the human said with a sly wink—or maybe she just blinked. “We’ll be rollin’ you on board, so keep your yelps to yourself, if you please.”

“Right,” Saigo said faintly, as a lid was placed over his head. Several seconds of pounding ensued, rocking the barrel, and then it tipped over on its side, and—

“Ohshit,” Saigo muttered, bracing himself as the rolling began.

With his pack filling the space, there wasn’t too much jostling, but Hadvo’s sword nonetheless smacked him upside the head a few times before he managed to jam it up against the barrel wall.

Cobblestones rumbled underneath, and then there was a sudden slant, presumably as Saigo was rolled up a gangplank. Wood against wood preceded another slant, downward this time.

Shortly thereafter, the barrel was tipped up into a standing position, sending Hadvo’s sword smacking against Saigo’s skull one last time.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Slumber 60, A.R. 372

The sound of footsteps moved away, replaced by muffled voices and the echoing of Saigo’s own breathing.

The inside of the dark barrel smelled strongly of overused vinegar. Saigo shifted, trying to find a position where he wasn’t sitting on his own tail. Something hard in his pack kept poking him in the ribs.

“Hadvo?” he whispered.

“Right here, Saigo. Everything looks good so far.”

“Good,” Saigo muttered. “Is Tsuki nearby?”

“Her barrel’s right next to yours. Her eyes are closed. I think…I think she might be sleeping.”

“Really? Wow, that’s impressive.”

“Nope, never mind, she just opened them. She looks irritated.”

“Do you think she can hear me?”

“She might. Her ears are pointed over here.”

“Oh,” Saigo said, dropping his voice even lower. “How long until we cast off, do you think?”

“Tsuki said an hour back at the library, so…soon?”

Saigo nodded in the darkness, processing.

Here he was, on a boat bound for Fjali. Two-day journey. A ‘red package,’ whatever that meant and however Tsuki had known about it. Was that something the Trade dealt in? He’d never interacted with brokers beyond selling ruin treasure.

He could feel the weight of his coin pouch, heavy with ambiguous acquisition.

“You all right?”

“Hm? Yeah…I think so,” Saigo murmured, hugging his pack. “Just thinking about…what we’re doing. I don’t know that I’ll be able to relax until…”

“…Until?”

“Never mind. No until. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to relax. Maybe I’ll at least get some decent sleep on the way. This is my first ship ride.”

“No, there was that time the Vigil got you.”

“First ship ride I’m conscious for,” Saigo amended. “I think…I think I’m just anxious to get to Fjali. Find the next clue. I wonder if the path ends after the Soother? It seems like there’s a pattern. Starseer, Stoneblood, Soulspark, and Soother at the end. Four. Nice and neat.”

“What do you think’ll be at the end of the path?”

“Like what I find? Or the location?”

“What you’ll find. There’s bound to be something.”

“I’m sure there is,” Saigo whispered. “I can’t imagine the Fourfront—and the Starseer especially—would put all this effort into pulling a four-century prank.”

“Yeah…maybe it’s some sort of treasure. A fortune or something. Or a powerful artifact, made by the Saisho and hidden by the Fourfront.”

Saigo shook his head.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “It has to do with ‘truth,’ but that’s all I can say for sure. Who knows what it’ll actually be, if we manage to get there.”

“Milk jug, Saigo. We’ll get there. No doubt about it, not if it’s you.”

“Yeah…” Saigo sighed. “Thanks for your confidence. I can’t say I share it, but thanks.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

“Right…” Saigo said, squinting at the wall of the barrel in front of him. Something was bothering him about the way it looked. “Listen, back in the library…I was asking you about your…anchors. What does your magic do, exactly?”

“Oh. Uh…hm. That’s a bit difficult. It does a lot. It’s how I can…speak and touch and that kind of thing. The anchors themselves let me…move.”

Something in the way he said it told Saigo there was a part of it he wasn’t.

“When you say ‘move,’ you don’t mean…left and right and that kind of thing, do you?” he said.

“…No. They, uh…let me move ‘between.’”

Saigo nodded slowly.

“Between me and the sword…and others,” he said. “There’s other people, aren’t there?”

“…Yeah.”

“Three besides me.”

“Y—yes. How’d you—?”

“Four anchors,” Saigo said, touching his left shoulder lightly. “Four people. I’ve actually, uh, suspected for a while now. Not the exact number, but you’ve always had somewhere else to go, so…yeah. Listen, Hadvo, you’re a Warden, right?”

“Yes…?”

“So you…made a contract with a Celestial. You talked to one?”

“…Yes, I did.”

Saigo leaned his head back on the wall of the barrel, squeezing his shoulder. It was aching.

“You talked with a Celestial…” he mumbled, mostly to himself. “You talked with a Celestial…and you made a deal. That’s what the Fourfront did. They got power from the Celestials so they could destroy the Saisho, and they did. And you’re a Warden. So you made a deal. A promise, an exchange…I don’t know how it works, but you do. You do, right?”

“I…I’m not sure I should—”

“Tell me, Hadvo. Please. How are you a Warden? What did you promise?”

There was a long silence, and then a sigh echoed through Saigo’s head.

“…You make it sound so big, Saigo. It really wasn’t.”

“Please tell me.”

“I can’t say much.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“…Okay.”

The silence of the barrel remained unbroken as Hadvo took a deep breath in the privacy of Saigo’s mind.

“I died.”

Saigo’s shoulder throbbed.

“You know this already. I died. Lost my body. Problem was, I wasn’t done living. Had too much to do. Had…I had people to protect. I didn’t want—I couldn’t leave them behind.”

Ashes in the wind

“Not sure how it happened. Felt like a dream. Or like I was in a…a painting or something. Or a forest, but as big and deep as the ocean. Couldn’t see the sky. And there was someone there. Part of someone.”

An ocean of trees, light brushing the canopy

“Couldn’t see them properly. It was like they were there but far off at the same time, but the part of them in front of me was bigger than a mountain. Or maybe they were a mountain—I don’t know. It was strange.”

Bones in the earth, bones of earth, a voice like a forest, like stone

“Talked to them. Told them I couldn’t die yet. I had to be there. They listened and they…told me I could go back. It’d be hard, but I could. If that’s what I wanted. But if I did…”

Green light in the roots, around the roots, coming up from the earth instead of down from the sky

“There were…conditions. Things I’d have to do. Promises to keep. Nothing I couldn’t handle, as long as it meant I could come back. So I did. I got to come back, and all I really had to do was what I’d wanted to do in the first place, which was…keeping an eye on you.”

Green light inside and all around, promises, promises, promises

“And…yeah. That’s pretty much it. There’s not much to say about the…deal, I guess you can call it. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

Saigo rubbed his shoulder absently.

“So…the deal you made with…?”

“Ika. Earth. The Providence. Yeah.”

“So the deal you made with…Ika, was that you could come back as long as you…?”

“Protected you. Watched out for you. You and…a few others.”

“So Ika just…gave you the power to come back? No strings attached?”

“I think the loss of a good body was a pretty big string. And believe me, it’s no small task to try to keep you out of trouble.”

“Me and a few others…” Saigo muttered, tugging at his collar. “These other people. Did I know them?”

“…I think you already know the answer to that question.”

“…Yeah,” Saigo said, stretching out the collar of his sweater and shirt and shrugging his left shoulder out into the open.

The ever-so-faint green glow he’d started to notice a few minutes ago sharpened, illuminating the shallow curve of the barrel.

Saigo blinked, craning his neck and trying to get a better look at the faint forest-green light bleeding through his fur. He couldn’t see much of its origin, but it looked…symbol-y. And perhaps blocky, as well.

He let go of his collar and shrugged his clothes back up over his shoulder, plunging the barrel into darkness once more.

“Hadvo?”

“Yeah?”

“Is it my fault you died?”

“Wha—no! No, absolutely not! Where’d you get that idea? No, Saigo, no. Of course it’s not your fault. I died of natural causes.”

“O-oh? Okay. Good.”

“For sure, Saigo.”

They fell into silence, and the minutes trickled by, stepping quietly so as not to disturb.

At some point, a lurch made Saigo shift in the barrel, the sensation of movement snapping him out of his stupor. The distant sounds of crashing water and raised voices sharpened, followed by the tramp of approaching feet.

Several sharp raps echoed on the top of the barrel, and then a crowbar peeled the lid away, flooding Saigo with flickering lamplight. An eye-patched and scar-mouthed face grinned down at him.

“Up’n at’em, tom,” the human said, stepping away from the barrel. “Unless you really feel like sleeping in there.”

Saigo gingerly stood up, narrowly avoiding falling headfirst when the ship swayed and his legs forgot what they were supposed to be doing. He managed a sort of controlled flop over the lip of his barrel and slithered the rest of the way out to sprawl on the floor of the cargo bay.

A snort came from his left as he sat up. He looked over and saw Tsuki already standing, arms folded, shifting her weight comfortably with the roll of the ship.

“You’re not going to throw up already, are you?” she asked.

“Hold that thought,” Saigo said, grabbing the edge of a crate smelling overpoweringly of fermented snowlock and gingerly pulling himself up, legs wobbling. “Time to see if I’m blessed by the Moon.”

He clenched the lip of the barrel as the cramps in his legs ironed themselves out, eventually gaining the courage to walk a few steps.

He raised his arms impressively, then slowly but inevitably tipped over backwards and landed firmly on his back. He coughed as dust rose from the hay strewn about on the floor and sat up, grinning sheepishly.

“Not yet, it seems,” he said, folding his legs. “I don’t feel sick, though, so I’d call that a win.”

“Don’t worry too much about your sea legs, tom,” the human said easily. “You won’t be able to leave the hold anyhow. Part of the red package policy. We’ll give you a bite of dinner in a while, so sit tight until then.”

“Will do, ell,” Saigo said, nodding. “Thanks for having us.”

“Eh, it’s all the captain,” the human said, waving a hand dismissively. “Don’t go causing trouble, else we’ll tie you up and toss you overboard. That includes messin’ with any of our cargo.”

“Don’t you worry, ell, we’ll be as quiet as rocks on the sea floor,” Saigo said with a mock salute.

“Aye, and if you need anything, don’t bother asking,” the human said cheerfully, sauntering away. “If all goes well, we’ll be docking around the end of first cycle on the fifty-sixth.”

With that, she ascended stairs on the other side of the hold and disappeared through a trapdoor, which slammed shut behind her.

Saigo looked up at Tsuki, who was tapping her paw idly against the floor.

“They seem nice for smugglers,” he ventured.

Tsuki shook her head, her eyes lingering on the stairs.

“They’re just in it for the hatch,” she said curtly. “They’re paid enough not to care and that’s it. They probably won’t sell us out, because if even one of them has loose lips they all lose their bonus.”

Her attention snapped to Saigo.

“What were you mumbling about before we cast off?” she asked. “I could hear you all the way through my barrel.”

“Oh, I was just…talking with Hadvo,” Saigo said. “Following up on something we were talking about back in the library. Did you…hear much of that?”

“Just you asking a lot of questions,” Tsuki said, sitting down against the opposite wall. “Something about anchors.”

“Oh. Yeah…yeah! As a matter of fact, and this is really interesting, Hadvo does have some kind of anchored magic, but—"

“Actually, I’m going to stop you right there,” Tsuki said, raising a hand. “I’m really, really not interested right now. And I’m even less interested in explaining why I’m not interested, all right? Say anything at all if you understand.”

“Wh—anything?” Saigo said.

“Great. Conversation over,” Tsuki said, settling back and closing her eyes. “If you feel the urge to talk to me, don’t.”

Saigo watched her carefully for a while, deliberating on possible futures. The ones where he agitated the person he’d be stuck in close proximity with for the next two days didn’t end well. Conversely, there were several where he embraced the miracle of thoughtful silence and got on with other things, which seemed much more promising.

He eased himself up, using a nearby crate for support. Wobbling precariously, he managed a few tottering steps before collapsing over the lip of his barrel. He stretched, scrabbling for his pack and managing to get a claw around one of the straps before pulling it up and out along with himself.

Swallowing a brief swell of nausea, Saigo dragged himself into a nook between the stacks of cargo and leaned back, taking deep breaths. The roll of the ship was starting to get to him.

He thumped his chest and managed a soft, slightly damp burp, then opened his pack and pulled out the rough bundle of papers that was his ongoing effort to restore his Vigil-confiscated Scrap notes. The spell vest he’d stolen from the Olisia tower had proven invaluable in building them back up, mostly in terms of basic runes, but the handful of decent formulas hadn’t gone amiss either.

He spread out his notes on the floor: root runes in every flavor of elementia and corporia, along with a scattering of etheria; directionals, designators, and characteristics, listed alongside several common combinations; and as many tried and true formulas as he could remember.

There had to be some way of properly disguising himself. Visual was the priority, but he would need to figure out an olfactory disguise as well. Olisia’s stink-bombing was a one-time occurrence, he’d promised himself that.

Saigo sighed, rubbing his eyes. Three hours in the library—he’d barely noticed the time passing, but now he was starting to feel it. The dust in the hold wasn’t helping much either.

He ran an absent finger along the stitches above his right eye. He frowned and did it again, and then a third time.

“Shit,” he swore quietly to himself. How long ago had the fake fur fallen off? Minutes? Hours? Days? He’d had it back in the Krovkin’s forest, he was sure of it. But since then…

He glanced at his arms. Not so much grey with black stripes as black with a few weak patches of grey. Tsuki had said a week and a half at most, and he was right on the far edge of that ‘most.’ The whole disguise would be long gone by the time they made port.

…which made it all the more important that he figured out some way to keep the Vigil or the Seekers or whoever from recognizing him on sight and scent.

Shards, would the Vigil in Fjali know about him? And what about the Seekers? They had to still be on his tail, even after the Harbor.

Not to mention he still didn’t know where exactly in Fjali they were going. First it was the end of the Fourfront, and now he was looking for where the Soulspark first broke their chains. Maybe the locals would have a better idea about what that could mean—

Another thought slammed into his mind, bowling everything else aside:

How was he supposed to ask if he couldn’t speak Fjalitian?

^^^^

Slumber 62, A.R. 372

Dictionaries. That was it. He’d just have to find a library.

Did they have libraries in Fjali? Of course they did. Somewhere.

No, they were landing in a port. He didn’t know anything about the port itself. Would it have a library? Was it as big as Taruu had been?

Maybe not a library. A bookstore, a used bookstore, somewhere like Beppi’s Books. But no, his attempt at translating the poem had been a complete flop…how would that work? Would he have to carry around a dictionary and flip through it every time he wanted to have a conversation?

There’d be people who spoke Kaikan, wouldn’t there? Especially in a port, right? People who spoke Kaikan and could give directions. Yeah. There had to be.

Tsuki’s head appeared over the edge of the barrel, just above Saigo’s paws.

“You’ve been like this for an hour now,” she observed. “If you’re planning on repeating this whole pattern for the fifth time in the last two days, you’re overdue to explode out of there and announced you’ve figured everything out once and for all.”

“Still thinking,” Saigo grunted, his ears trying and failing to fold back due to the fact they were already flattened against the side of the barrel.

“Uh-huh,” Tsuki said, looking unimpressed. “You know you look like a library shat all over you?”

“You told me that yesterday,” Saigo muttered, shifting slightly and causing a minor avalanche of discarded notes and crossed-out spell formulas. “I swear I’m just missing a rune somewhere.”

“Sure you are. Have you solved all your problems ever or not?”

“…No,” Saigo sighed.

“Great. We’re nearly to port, and if your neck is broken I’m not going to fix it,” Tsuki said, her ears twitching in the direction of the stairs.

“Noted. How long?”

“I think they’re pulling in now. Don’t expect lunch.”

Her head disappeared, followed by the sound of her climbing into her own barrel.

Saigo pulled his legs in and spent approximately four minutes performing an impromptu gymnastics routine to get himself sitting upright with his pack on his lap, all his notes secured and put away, and the sword wedged securely between him and the barrel wall.

It wasn’t long until he heard the now-familiar creak of the trapdoor, followed by sea-swaggering footsteps.

The one-eyed face of Yam (as she’d introduced herself when bringing dinner the night before last) appeared above Saigo’s barrel.

“All settled in, then?” she said briskly. “We’re gonna move the two of you up a deck and set you up as a table, so when the tassels come aboard they won’t find you among the merchandise, which you oughta smell like in any case, bein’ down here so long.”

Saigo nodded, swallowing sour unease.

Yam grinned, showing off a set of gold-plated teeth.

“Don’t worry yourself, tom, we done this before,” she said. “Oh, and before we never see you again: a present, ‘cause you’ve been so cordial to the likes of us.”

She tossed something into the barrel.

It landed on Saigo’s lap. He picked it up and discovered two thin lengths of rope tied to a rounded patch of leather.

“Ha! Thanks, Yam-ell,” he said, lifting it and managing a smile of his own. “I’ll make good use of it. Safe sailing wherever you’re off to next.”

“Sul calm yer waters, tom,” Yam said with a wink, sliding the lid over the barrel and hammering it in.

Saigo tucked the eyepatch in his pocket and closed his eyes, ears twitching. He could hear Yam moving about, whistling, and feet pounding on the upper decks, and now more coming down the steps into the cargo bay—

“Let’s get this lot moved, yeah?” Yam called, her voice dull through the wood. A chorus of grunts accompanied the sound of busy shuffling, and Saigo felt the barrel rock.

He braced himself just as it tipped over, locking himself in place as he was rolled up the stairs, sailors grunting and swearing at each other the whole way.

One bumpy ride later, Saigo was rolled upright, head spinning. A nearby thud suggested Tsuki’s barrel had joined him, followed by the clatter of a thick plank across their lids and a brief bout of hammering.

“Right then,” came Yam’s voice, just outside the barrel. “Not a peep out of you or I’ll gut ya myself, eh? Stay calm and quiet and we’ll have you out of here in no time.”

Saigo nodded, more out of nerves than any belief Yam could somehow see him, and the crew moved away up another flight of stairs. He could hear their voices much clearer now, including one ordering the rest to line up and prepare for inspection, no one to be below decks—

Saigo’s heartrate quickened at the sound of a creaking gangplank. More voices, an exchange between the voice of command and the clipped bark of one of the boarders.

Saigo closed his eye and focused on breathing as softly and quietly as he could, leaning his head on the familiar weight of his pack.

He tried not to think as footsteps descended into the depths of the ship, passing uncomfortably close—

—as claws scraped the floor just outside his barrel, heavy breaths echoing as someone stepped purposefully—

—as someone paused, and the sound of them sniffing the air seeped through the planks—

—as a hand thumped on the plank above Saigo’s head, making his heart jump—

—as—as—as—

—as the person moved away, and the creak of a trapdoor signaled their descent into the cargo bay.

Several minutes passed with the inspectors prowling the ship but never again coming too close to Saigo’s barrel. Even so, his heartrate refused to return to normal until every unfamiliar presence had retreated down the gangplank.

The murmur of voices and activity rose sharply with their departure, and it wasn’t long before Saigo endured yet another bumpy, rolling journey up the stairwell, across the deck, down the gangplank, and along the dock…

…into Fjali.

Chapter Text

Slumber 61, A.R. 372

“Are you finding everything you need?”

Chief Washi Taga of the Seeker Division put his thumb on the page to keep his place and looked up at the soft-voiced capracine who’d greeted him at the front desk.

“Hm? Oh, yes, for the most part,” he said, smiling. “It’s been some time since I was last in Taruu, and even more since I’ve visited its library.”

“Well then, we are grateful to see you again,” the librarian said, bowing. “Are you a frequent traveler? Attached to a merchant branch, perhaps? Regardless, it is always a pleasure to receive visitors interested in deepening their knowledge.”

“Not a merchant, but I do like to travel,” Taga said, returning the bow. “Can’t say I’m much for books on average, but they’re useful in a pinch. Granted, that seems to be the only time I turn to them, which I could probably be better about.”

“Is there anything I can help you find, then?” the librarian asked, glancing at the book in his hand. “A particular subject, an author? We may not be perfectly up-to-date with the Scholarium Archive, but we do pride ourselves on the breadth of our collection.”

“As a matter of fact, I’m trying to find some cold hard facts about the Fourfront,” Taga said. “Their homes, places that were significant to them, what happened to them after the Shatter. Looking to satisfy a curiosity, you could say.”

“Ah, yes, a favored subject,” the librarian said, nodding sagely. “Follow me. I’m sure we have more than a few suitable books.”

“Good to hear,” Taga said, trailing after her. “I’m a bit of a musclehead, me, so something simple would be ideal.”

“As you say, ell,” the librarian said, stopping halfway down a row. “Ah, here we are. This section has the better part of our most regularly referenced books on the strict facts of the Fourfront. You’ll definitely find something here.”

“Any of them you’d recommend?” Taga asked, scanning the loosely-packed shelves. “I don’t have the best eye for what’s important versus what’s gonna give me a headache.”

“Might I ask the direction of your research? Your ‘curiosity,’ as you said?”

Taga blew a thoughtful breath, hefting the book still in his hands.

“I’m…trying to connect some dots,” he said slowly. “Ell…I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

The librarian bowed deeply.

“Asai, at your service,” she said.

“Washi, at yours,” Taga said, bowing in return. “Well then, Asai-ell, what would you say is the correlation between the Harbor and the Krovkin of the Falidgra Forest?”

Asai considered this while Taga rocked on his heels. After several seconds, she adjusted her square glasses and nodded, eyes clearing.

“I would say…perhaps the fact they are both tightly linked to the Fourfront?” she mused. “You have the Krovkin, who, while secretive, are well-known for their connection to the Stoneblood. The Falidgra Forest is their home by right of ancestry, after all. And as for the Harbor, it is often regarded as one of the most significant elements of the Starseer’s legacy, down to those of her line continuing to serve as its Headkeepers.”

Taga nodded.

“I’ve been thinking much the same myself,” he said. “Both have long histories, as well as roots in members of the Fourfront. You can’t say the same thing for organizations like the Seeker Division, or even the Scholarium. Tell me, would you ever be inclined to visit either place? The Harbor or the Falidgra Forest? For no particular reason other than interest.”

Asai frowned at him.

“I hardly think so, Washi-mell,” she said. “Certainly not the Falidgra Forest. The Krovkin are well-known for refusing even the scholarly-minded, and the Harbor…well, the Harbor is beautiful, but its focus is education, not touristry. It is not a place to visit casually.”

“And most people wouldn’t, that’s for sure,” Taga agreed. “But you never know. Kin are interesting that way. Anyhow, back to book recommendations. Anything in particular stand out for easy facts about the Fourfront’s personal histories?”

“Oh? Ah, yes, of course,” Asai said, turning back to the bookshelf. “Let’s see…oh, yes, these should do nicely. We had a patron who was studying much the same thing just yesterday.”

“Really now?” Taga said, his fingertips tingling suddenly. “What kind of patron?”

“Oh, a feline,” Asai said idly, carefully pulling books off the shelves. “I’m not sure of their age, but they were quite studious. Not a certified scholar, but they sat down at a table and simply read and wrote for nearly half a cycle. I thought it was quite sweet—there simply don’t seem to be as many people studying the Fourfront as there used to.”

“That’s quite interesting,” Taga said, the tingling in his fingers rising to a giddy itch. “Any distinguishing features? Fur color, clothing?”

“Mostly black fur, as far as I recall,” Asai said, shooting him a strange look. “Are they familiar to you? They looked like a traveler.”

“Could be familiar, could be,” Taga said noncommittally. “I have a friend quite close to what you’re describing, and I’m wondering if it might have been them. Did he have a large scar over one eye?”

“I…believe so, yes,” Asai said, relaxing slightly. “They were actually quite heavily scarred about the face, but there was an especially distinct one across their eye, yes. Are the two of you in similar professions?”

“Yes, I’d say so,” Taga said. “It’s rather heartening to hear we’ve been studying the same things. What books was he reading? I think I’d benefit from the same.”

“That would be these,” Asai said, holding out the stack of books she’d just finished gathering. “They’re all quite good for learning from, though the manner in which they teach is quite different from author to author.”

Taga accepted the books with a slight bow and shuffled through them quickly, scanning the titles.

Sight, Strength, Spirit, Salve: True Stories of the Fourfront of the Insurgence seemed self-explanatory;

Break to Mend: a Study of the Shatter appeared to discuss the role of the Shatter and how its effects shaped the earliest years of the Age of Revision;

Fourfront of the Revision, a wordy treatise on the roles of the Fourfront following the Shatter, particularly the ramifications of the Soulspark’s death at it’s start and the Soother’s departure from Central;

And…hm.

Lahab’s Fire: Legacy of the Soulspark.

Taga grunted to himself. Even he knew about the renowned Lahab. Practically every craft and trade owed some portion of its origin to them, not to mention they’d practically founded Masuu. Hiku sometimes read him excerpts from their biography in the evenings.

Not to mention all the speculation about their and the Soulspark’s relationship. A lot of people seemed to think they’d been parent and child, perhaps, or cousins. Nothing ever confirmed, but the parallels had been too enticing to resist—one burning away the dark age of the Saisho, the other igniting a new day of commerce, art, and craftkinship.

“Will those be suitable, Washi-ell?”

Taga looked up at Asai, thoughts racing. His hands got there ahead of him and held out the books.

“O-oh!” she said, accepting the stack. “Are these not to your taste, or—?”

“No, no, they’re lovely and I’d have loved to sit down for a read, but I’ve just remembered something I need to attend to,” Taga said brusquely. “Sorry to keep you so long for so little, but I do need to be going. Thank you for showing me the books, I’ll keep them in mind.”

“Of, of course, Washi-ell,” Asai said, obviously taken aback. “Would you like them held for your or—”

“No, no thank you,” Taga said, shaking his head. “You’ve been a great help, but I’ll be on my way now.”

He smiled, nodded, and moved past her, walking swiftly between the shelves, small pieces of an unseen whole clicking together in his head.

The Harbor, the letter Taga had received from a Vigil friend regarding a summons to the Krovkin’s home followed by an abrupt retracting of the same, the traces of travel leading all the way here, the books themselves, the mysterious feline’s research—

A lead, a lead, a lead was almost always secondary to the motive, because the lead might tell you where they’d been but a motive told you what they wanted.

Taga bounded down the steps of the library, the air peppered with snowflakes and the unceasing sounds of Taruu’s city-breath.

“Ah’atka etza uxa ya, Koro, Ato, Led,” he whispered under his breath, picturing three faces; one sharp and scarred, one broad and brutal, one round and worried.

“All right, jits, here’s the deal,” he muttered. “You’re all gonna meet me on the corner of Sharp and Oarlock, bracers on and vests buttoned. I’ve got a hunch that needs following through on and I’m looking forward to getting a bright report of your findings.”

Taga’s mouth burned as the spell took flight, his boots striking the snow-dusted cobblestones with an eager rhythm.

One by one, replies arrived in his mind’s ear.

“Received, Chief. I’m on my way. I couldn’t find anything on our mark, unfortunately. The Vigil haven’t had any significant disturbances in the last few days.”

“On way,” came a different grunt. “Nothing to report.”

“Yes Chief! I’m sorry, but nobody’s said anything about a feline passenger that matches our description, and I also might be a bit because there’s a lot of people here.”

Taga stepped up his pace, mapping the route in his head according to his somewhat rusty memory of the city. It sure had grown a fair bit since he’d been here last…

It wasn’t long before the cross-streets came into view and he picked out the imposing stature of Ato, standing with arms folded alongside the elder of the Hanta siblings.

Captain Hanta snapped off a smart salute the moment Taga got within twenty feet.

“I suspect Led’s still on his way, Chief,” he said. “He’s got farther to come compared to the rest of us, and he’s never been very good with crowds.”

“No worries there, Captain, he let me know he’s on his way,” Taga said, doing his best to disguise his own puffing. “I heard your reports already. No signs of our black tom, eh?”

“No Chief, sorry Chief,” Koro said. “I don’t doubt he’s been here, but he’s been keeping a low profile, if he moved on quickly.”

“Seems we’re of the same opinion, Captain,” Taga said, scratching his chin. “I did find out what he was doing while he was here, though, thanks to a great stroke of luck, but that discussion can wait until—oh, there he is.”

Led arrived in a panting, bedraggled jog, stumbling to stop alongside the rest of them and pulling his armband back into place.

“Sorry…I’m…late…Chief…” he gasped. “Nothing…to…report. Not him…or…other one…vulpine…on any…boats.”

“Good work, jit, finding out where our friend hasn’t been can often be as helpful as finding out where he was,” Taga said, starting to walk. “I’ve got my own lead, and if my gut’s right we’ll soon find out where our black tom’s gone off to.”

“What did you find, Chief?” Koro asked, moving swiftly to keep alongside him.

“More than I was expecting, that’s for sure,” Taga said. “Not only did our tom stop here, he visited a library and was doing some research. Now, consider the places our tom’s visited. What’s the common theme amongst them?”

“Well…despite the disturbances he’s made, there hasn’t been much in the way of casualties or injuries,” Koro suggested. “He hasn’t appeared to be moving with the intent of causing bodily harm.”

“That’s a good note, Captain, and suspecting that has it’s uses,” Taga said. “There’s a touch more to it, though. Consider his forays into two areas inhospitable for visitors, the Harbor and the Falidgra Forest. They’ve got common ground, don’t they?”

“Yehh…” Ato said, mulling it over. “Boring?”

“They’ve…both got ties to members of the Fourfront?” Led offered tentatively.

“Right on the mark, Hanta,” Taga said, patting him on the shoulder. “And now I’m pretty sure he’s on his way to Fjali, for good reason given what I found out at the library. Hanta, there weren’t any records of passengers matching either of the descriptions we have?”

“Uh—no, Chief, there weren’t.”

“Sounds about right,” Taga grunted. “I’ve got serious doubts our black tom owns any proof-work, and we already know he’s been using a false name. Where we’re heading now ought to confirm whether or not he sailed for Fjali. We’re pretty close already, but I’m going to need you all to give me some space and keep an eye on the streets while I talk to an old friend.”

“They don’t look like very friendly streets, Chief,” Led said doubtfully, and he was right. Taga could already sense more than a few unfriendly eyes, ears, and noses watching them, but that only meant they were in the right place.

“They’re not, jit, so make sure you keep your eyes peeled,” Taga said, stopping the team in front of a particular storefront and taking in the familiar sign over the door, many years and coats of paint older than the last time he’d seen it. “All right, I’m going in. Don’t mind the noise. Any screaming you might hear won’t be me.”

“Chief, are you certain—” Koro asked warily.

“Yes, Captain, very, ‘cause I’m a familiar face and you ain’t,” Taga said, rolling up his sleeves. “Your job’s making sure no one tries to come in after me. Understood?”

“Understood, Chief.”

Taga marched to the door of the small shop, which leaned up against a decrepit stable. It stank of malnourished olinoo, old hay, and dried shit, which created a veritable symphony of discouragement when combined with the briny stench of the street itself.

Taga took a deep breath, cracked his knuckles, and threw open the door.

“JEKK!” he bellowed, stepping inside and slamming it behind him. “GET YOUR FISH-GNAWED TAIL OUT HERE OR I’LL SLAP YOUR ROOF OFF!”

A door to Taga’s right exploded open and vomited a snarling lupine, who bared their fangs and threw themself at Taga, claws outstretched.

“Xe ah’adko,” Taga said, lowering his stance and thrusting a closed fist at the lupine.

The air between them darkened and coalesced into the shape of a massive brown fist, which hit the lupine just below the neck and also just above the hocks and also everywhere between the two, punching them through the opposite wall.

“JEKK, YOUR BELLKIN JUST GOT THEIR HEAD RANG!” Taga yelled, shaking out his hand to the sound of crashing timber. “Shards, it’s been a while since I’ve done that. COME ON OUT, JEKK! WE CAN MAKE THIS EASY!”

The same door from before flew open again, this time completely off its hinges, and another hanju barged into the welcoming room, horned and snorting and stamping the ground with heavy hooves.

“Hope you’ve got something helpful to say, jak,” Taga said, looking up at the bovid. “If not, be so kind as to grab your boss, will you? I know he’s in here somewhere.”

The bovid glanced at the hole in the wall the lupine had disappeared through, then looked back at Taga. Her nostrils flared, dust rolling around her face, and she surged forward—

“Xe ad,” Taga said, thrusting his left hand toward her, palm open.

The massive brown hand appeared again, semi-transparent as it slammed the bovid back against the wall. Her eyes bulged, one arm pinned to her side and the other raised awkwardly above her head.

Taga gently clenched his fist, wrapping the bovid in the full embrace of his spell.

“My ancestors are Kaikan, all the way back, which means the Fjalitian custom of shakin’ hands came to me a little late,” Taga said conversationally. “That said, I’ve gotten pretty good at it over the years, and I’d be more than happy to show you. Where’s Jekk?”

“Eat sork, shiner,” the bovid coughed, muscles straining against his grip.

Taga raised his fist, and the spectral hand raised with it, the bovid’s hooves leaving the ground. He rotated his wrist until she was parallel with the floor, back first, so she’d lose her breath when he slammed—

“Heyheyhey, stop stop stop stop stop, I’m here I’m here I’m here!” a shrill voice yelped. “Put her down!”

Taga looked around and saw a short, whip-thin figure waving their hands urgently through the dust on the other side of the room.

“Hi, Jekk,” Taga said, opening his hand and letting the bovid drop to the floor with a grunt. “Long time no see. How’s the family?”

“Dead,” the grey-furred rodentine sighed, trotting across the floor. He patted the bovine’s shoulder, pushing her to sit up. “Stay there, Tou, just sit for a while, he ain’t gonna hit you again. Yeah, dad passed on and I planted pops not long after him. About two years ago now.”

“Sorry to hear that, Jekk, though I’m glad to see your guards are as chipper as ever,” Taga said, nodding apologetically at the bovid. “Sorry about roughing them up, I’m in a bit of a hurry.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Jekk said wearily, rubbing his wide ears and shaking his head. “I don’t wanna hear it. What are you doing here, kicking down the door and shouting up a storm after going on eight years of nothing? You come to shut me down for good?”

“Doesn’t look like I need to, if I’m being honest,” Taga grunted, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. “I saw your stable. What’s happening here, Jekk? You’re never between screws, much less for a period of seasons, judging by the smell.”

“Ah, you know how it is,” Jekk sighed, as Tou stood up and lumbered to the far wall to help the lupine struggle back inside. “The flow of business changes. I don’t like dropping the stable, but there’s no room for it at the moment. There’s, uh…new management, let’s call it, and that’s all I’ll say, and you ain’t heard it from me or anyone I know, get me?”

Taga’s fingers itched, but he shelved the urge for now. Something to dig into another time, perhaps, if he ever got the room.

“Can’t say I’ve heard anything about that,” he said, and Jekk relaxed a little. “How’s the moving business, though, that’s what I wanna know. You’re still at the head of the pack, aren’t you?”

“Oh yeah, not much in the way of competition there,” Jekk said. “It’s great to be good at the job, it’s better to be a real pain to replace. Why, you looking for someone?”

“Always. I’m trying to find a feline, traveling with a vulpine. One or the other probably came through within the last two days.”

“Vulpine?” Jekk echoed, whiskers twitching. “Yeah, I’ve had a vulpine through. Young, violent, red fur. Two to Fjali, leaving the same day. Knew the score around town, too. That’s all I know.”

“Not pulling my nose, are you?”

Jekk shook his head.

“That’s on the level, Taga,” he said. “Consider it my final favor. I think I’m about ready to retire anyways. I thought for a while I’d wait for you to kick it and then hit an upturn, but I’ve got a feeling in my whiskers things aren’t due to get better for a long time. Might as well quit while I’m behind. Hope that’s all?”

“Yeah, that’s it, and thanks for your help, Jekk,” Taga said. “Sorry about the wall and your teeth that one time. Here, for the repairs.”

He dug into his pocket and tossed the rodentine a few graftings.

“Thanks, Taga,” Jekk sighed, handing the coins up to the lupine, who had by now limped back to glare warily at Taga. “I’ll be shut down for good by end of next season, all right? But don’t go spreading it around, and if you send any of your kids up this way I’d appreciate some breathing room.”

“You’ve got it, Jekk,” Taga said, and with a nod at him and his toughs, he turned on his heel and marched out of the building.

Seeker Team C-39 snapped to attention as he stepped back into the street, the door clicking shut behind him.

“All settled, Chief?” Koro asked.

“All settled, Captain,” Taga replied. He took note of the pair of unconscious humans lying on the other side of the street, which he didn’t recall seeing before entering Jekk’s shop.

“People giving you trouble?” he asked, leading the way down the road.

“Yes, but Ato gave it back,” Koro said, striding alongside him. “They weren’t much. Mostly mouth.”

“Glad to see you handled it without much trouble,” Taga said, nodding. “Nothing permanent?”

“Headaches and bruises, but nothing more,” Koro said, shaking his head. “What’s the next step, Chief?”

Taga grinned, his fingertips itching.

“Fjali.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Slumber 62, A.R. 372

“Uhf.”

“Very graceful,” Tsuki said dryly, looking down at Saigo. “What happened to all felines landing on their paws?”

“I assume whoever coined the phrase left out the circumstances in which people are still holding the feline’s legs when they shove them out the window,” Saigo said, picking himself up as said window latched shut behind him. “Can’t fault them for their enthusiasm, at least.”

He picked up his pack, which Yam and her crewmates had thoughtfully tossed out the window ahead of him. He pulled it on and slid the bundled sword into place across his back, his breath misting.

“Sul it’s cold,” he said, rubbing his hands and peering down the alleyway. “I was expecting it, but it’s still a bit of a shock.”

“What did you expect, being this much closer to moonsource?” Tsuki said. “Really though, it doesn’t feel much worse than Kaiko.”

“Speak for yourself, some of us are shortfur,” Saigo said, tucking his hands into his armpits.

Tsuki didn’t respond to this, instead glaring up at the gently snowing sky, from which only a few flakes managed to settle in the little alleyway.

“Are you all right?” Saigo asked.

She blinked and looked at him like she’d forgotten he was there.

“…I’m fine,” she said. “So, we’re here. What’s your plan now? Or are we going to skip that and go straight to running around like shucked tamas?”

“I…think we can save that part for later,” Saigo said. “For now, we need to focus on getting to the location with the next clue.”

“Sure. And where is that, exactly? Where the Soulspark something something?”

“‘Where the Soulspark first broke their chains,’” Saigo corrected automatically. “Yes, there. As for where ‘there’ is…I still don’t know.”

Tsuki’s ears twitched incredulously.

“What do you mean you don’t know where it is?” she demanded. “You ‘figured everything out’ more than four times on the way here! Not to mention all that time you spent in the library back in Taruu! What was that for if not this?”

“It was for this. I mean, it started out being for this, and kind of turned into a few other things, but I still did my research,” Saigo said defensively. “I have a few ideas about what the place might be, but I couldn’t find anything about where those places were exactly.”

“So, what, you want to wander around the entire province and poke your nose into every ruin you see?” Tsuki said, planting her hands on her hips.

“That…might actually be a better plan than I currently have,” Saigo said.

“Okay, so we are going straight into shucked tama mode.”

“Let’s not call it that, please,” Saigo said. "I completely forgot to ask, but is there any chance you’re fluent in Fjalitian?”

Tsuki wrinkled her muzzle at him.

“Uh…no.”

Saigo sighed.

“Thought not,” he said. “Not to worry, this just means we’ll probably have to take the dictionary route.”

“Dictionary route?”

“Right, that depends on whether or not this port has a library or a bookstore or something like that.”

“That’s your plan?”

“It’s better than nothing.”

“Somehow I doubt it.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“No.”

“Okay then. Now, I’ve been avoiding it out of the hope whatever I'm smelling is entirely localized to this alleyway, but we should probably get an actual look at this town.”

Tsuki stepped out of the way and gestured mock-grandly to the mouth of the alleyway.

Saigo stepped forward, the narrow walls pressing in on him as he approached the garbage-crowded exit. He took a deep breath, gagged, and stuck his head out to look both ways.

He withdrew his head after a moment of staring and looked at Tsuki.

“I take it back,” he said. “Nothing is better than my plan. I don’t think they’re going to have a library here.”

“No use hanging around, then,” Tsuki said, giving him a shove and sending him stumbling out into the road. “Let’s go look for that dictionary, shall we?”

Saigo straightened up, looking up and down the crooked dirt road a second time. It hadn’t improved much since his first look.

Rickety houses and buildings lined the street, strewn with old nets and broken timber and the occasional person sitting on a leaning porch and staring at nothing.

Immediately beyond the town, rugged cliffs rose straight up, low clouds disguising their true height. Directly opposite those, a few docks stretched out into the grey sea, occupied largely by run-down fishing boats, piles of garbage, and Captain Tilly’s ship, which was still unloading its cargo.

“Talk about miserable,” Tsuki muttered under her breath as they walked down the street.

Saigo couldn’t help but agree, at least in the privacy of his head. The few people out and about avoided looking at them directly, though the back of his neck prickled from unseen attention.

The only people whose eyes weren’t on the ground or the sky were a few small clusters of well-dressed people by the docks. They all wore heavy coats and hats, and when one of them turned, Saigo caught the flash of a brightly colored tassel hanging from their collar.

“…and it smells like an economic stranglehold, too,” Tsuki said darkly, glaring at the people Saigo assumed were the cargo inspectors.

“Why do you say that?” Saigo said.

“Just a feeling,” Tsuki grunted. “So…what’s your plan now?”

“Probably leave here as soon as possible, because I just realized those inspectors won’t recognize us and might ask all the questions we're trying to avoid.”

“Sounds good. I think there’s only one road out of here anyways.”

Saigo’s whole body itched as he and Tsuki walked quickly for the distant road along the shore. The town had a clinging feeling to it that went beyond its unkempt state, and he wanted out whether he knew where to go or not.

“What exactly do you mean, ‘economic stranglehold?’” he asked quietly, paws prickling on the frozen dirt.

“Exactly what I said,” Tsuki muttered. “I don’t like the look of those inspectors. They’re not Central. And this whole place is on the verge of collapse, despite the fact there’s big ships bringing merchandise through. There’s not enough people.”

“So…a private force?” Saigo whispered, glancing at the nearest inspector, several yards away. “Where does their authority come from? Captain Tilly’s crew don’t seem like people to cave to local thugs.”

“Call it a gut feeling, but I’d bet anything there’s some sork-tongued gold-sucker behind this,” Tsuki said.

Saigo realized he'd pulled away slightly. There was enough venom in Tsuki's voice to kill a drullum.

“Could you perhaps be a little more specific?" he said. "I don’t really know much about—”

“Hey you! Stop right there!”

Saigo stopped short at the shout, hackles rising when he saw one of the heavy-coated inspectors striding purposefully towards them, sea-green tassel swinging.

The inspector—a ruddy human with a beard almost as heavy as his face—stopped in front of them and held out a firm hand.

“Papers!” he barked. “Where’d you come from?”

Saigo’s heart did a 360-degree flip-flop, his mouth opening and words spilling out before his short-circuiting brain could flash out a warning.

“Sorry, we don’t have any,” he said. “We were just in town to visit a friend. We’re heading back home now.”

The inspector straightened up, surprise flashing across his face. He squinted at Saigo, scowling and thrusting his chin out.

“Oh, are you?” he growled. “Where’s your hometown, then?”

Something clicked in Saigo’s head, and his mouth once again rattled off words without his consent.

“Glavnan,” he said. “East of the mountains. Have you been?”

The inspector frowned, his eyes skirting across Saigo’s heavy pack and Tsuki’s bag.

“I know of it,” he said. “Hmph. Fine. Be off with you.”

“Thank you very much,” Saigo said, nodding.

The inspector stepped out of their way, and they continued on.

When they’d moved out of human earshot, Saigo let out a deep, shaky breath, as quietly as he could.

He grinned over at Tsuki as they passed the last building on the edge of town.

“Lucky break, huh?” he whispered. “I thought for sure we were caught.”

His eye caught up with his mouth, and he did a double-take. She was staring at him like she’d never seen him before, forehead wrinkled and muzzle scrunched, mouth hanging open.

“Wha—”

Thamp

“—aow! What was that for?” Saigo yelped, staggering and clutching his shoulder.

“You—you—you—” Tsuki sputtered, raising her fist again. “What the shatter was that about!? A dictionary, really? You were yanking my whiskers the whole time!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Saigo hissed, hurrying her quickly around the bend. “I’m not pulling your whiskers at all! And what about the dictionary idea? That was a good plan, at least until I actually saw the town!”

Tsuki yapped indignantly.

“Oh, really?” she said, grabbing a fistful of his sweater and pulling him down to her eye level as they walked. “So you sat on that all smug until it came into play just so you could show off?”

“I truly and honestly have no clue what you’re talking about,” Saigo said, trying and failing to pull out of her grip. “Sat on what? I don’t do anything smugly! I just talked to the inspector!”

“Yeah, that’s the issue here, penhead,” Tsuki said. “I can’t believe you actually fooled me into believing you couldn’t speak Fjalitian! What else have you been playing dumb about, huh?”

“I—what? Fooled? I can’t speak Fjalitian!” Saigo protested. “I think I’d know something like that.”

Tsuki took a breath, ready to retort—and stopped, letting go of his sweater just as he yanked, making him stumble back a few steps.

“Oh,” she said. “Oh, right. Your head.”

“My head?” Saigo said, reaching up automatically and patting his skull. “What?”

“Your memory, genius,” Tsuki sighed, folding her arms. “You’re seriously telling me you didn’t even realize? You sounded like you were chewing bricks.”

“Wait, wait wait wait…wait. Wait.”

Saigo pointed at himself.

“I…” he said slowly. “Was speaking Fjalitian? For real? Back there?”

“Yes,” Tsuki said. “Like a native. Hold on, where did you wake up again? When you first lost your memory?”

“Southern mountains between North and South Kaiko,” Saigo said promptly. “In a pass. I’m pretty certain I’m Kaikan, even if, you know…I can’t remember. But…”

He winced, a familiar pounding sensation already climbing up from the back of his neck to the top of his skull.

“Oh, shards,” he muttered, wobbling. “Hold—hold on a second, I need to…I need to sit down.”

He staggered over to the side of the road and sat down heavily on a chunk of salt-scoured rock. He rested his head in his hands, closing his eye and taking deep, slow breaths.

“Are you remembering something?” Tsuki asked. Her voice sounded like it had been wrapped in a layer of cotton.

Saigo focused on the pain.

Okay. Okay. He’d experienced this before, a few times now. It didn’t feel…as bad as the others. He just had to…he just had to work through it. Let it wash over and away. He’d be fine.

“Hey,” Tsuki said sharply, her voice becoming clearer as the pain began to fade. “You’re not about to start gibbering again, are you? Because I’ll give you a real headache if you go down that road.”

“No, no, it’s all right, I think I’m fine.”

At least, that’s what Saigo meant to say. What came out instead sounded something like:

“Nein, nein, alles ist gut, ich glaube, mir geht es gut.”

He locked eyes with Tsuki, who squinted at him suspiciously.

Ever so slowly, Saigo raised his hands and felt his ears. They were still there and seemed to be working properly.

He concentrated.

“I’m…fine,” he said carefully. “Okay. This is natural. This ist gut. Sheisce.”

He took a deep breath, head still pounding gently. He just needed to think his way through this, that was it.

“No, I’m fine. Okay. It’s coming back to me,” he said, mostly to himself. “One, two, three, four, fünf sechs sieben acht eight seven six five vier drei zwei eins.”

“You can hear yourself, right?” Tsuki asked.

“Yes, and it’s giving me a headache,” Saigo said, not looking at her. “Give me a moment. Okay. I don’t remember why, but now I’m remembering that I do know how to speak Fjalitian, so I think…I think I’ve got a handle on it. Uh…let’s see… kannst du mich verstehen?”

Tsuki stared at him and slowly raised her fist again.

“Nein!” Saigo said, throwing his hands up. “Sorry, sorry, just checking. I just asked if you could understand me.”

“Do it in Kaikan next time, then,” she said evenly, fist staying where it was. “Are you done?”

“Ja. Yes,” Saigo said. “For the most part. Ich glaube schon. Sheisce. Yeah, I’m good.”

“Great. This is a new level of strange, even for you,” Tsuki said as he stood up shakily. “Try and dial it back, will you?”

“I can’t promise anything,” Saigo said, walking again. “You think this is weird? Try being me."

“Yeah, yeah,” Tsuki grumbled as they walked along the pitted road, the sea crashing against the stone shore on their right. “Let’s just get away from here. Where’s the nearest town?”

“Good question,” Saigo said, pulling out his map and unfolding it. “Uh…let’s see. First…where exactly are we right now?”

“Fjali.”

“Yes, thank you, that narrows it down, very helpful,” Saigo said, scrutinizing the southern shoreline of the province. “Maybeeee…”

He paused, his eye catching on the name of another town—a familiar name.

Glavnan.

He pulled one of his ears absently, staring at the dot of the town on the map, nearly lost amongst an artfully sketched forest.

Where did he know that from…?

He’d used it as an excuse with the inspector, and if it was…east of the mountains, right…shards, how had he know that? He must have seen the name earlier, that was it…

He found Taruu on South Kaiko’s northern coast and looked over at Tsuki.

“Which way did we sail from Taruu?” he asked.

“Northeast, I think,” Tsuki said. “Lighter on the north.”

“Okay, and that’s…this way, which means we probably arrived…here, in Drossel. And the nearest town from here is…on the other side of the mountain, though the road takes us around rather than over. Glavnan.”

“Glavnan?” Tsuki echoed, her ears flicking.

“Yes, I said we were from there when I was talking to the inspector,” Saigo explained. “I don’t think I’ve ever been, though. I just happened to…know about it.”

“Really…” Tsuki said, squinting at him. “That’s convenient.”

Saigo sighed, checking the map one more time before putting it away.

“Look, I’m pretty sure I’m not from Fjali,” he said. “I mean, I think I’d at least have an accent or something, but I also woke up way south in Kaiko, and my name is definitely Kaikan.”

“Yeah, okay, but who told you that? Did you wake up knowing your name?”

“Well…no, but…” Saigo said slowly. “Hadvo told me…oh, but the Vigil also knew my family and personal name when I first got captured!”

“Sure, but Hadvo could be lying. It could just be an assumed name,” Tsuki insisted. “What if you were a practiced criminal and you used a fake name to hide your real identity? You speak fluent Fjalitian, just happened to know about a town northeast of this one, and you were told the name you would use when you first woke up knowing nothing.”

“I…I don’t think that’s true,” Saigo said, shaking his head. “I know I don’t have much evidence against it, but I just…that doesn’t sound right. It can’t be right.”

Tsuki huffed disapprovingly.

“You’ve got no sense of intrigue,” she said. “Are you telling me you don’t have the slightest interest in finding out where you’re actually from?”

“That’s a leap of logic,” Saigo snorted. “I have an interest, of course, but everything you’ve said is speculation. I want to find out for myself what’s true. I just hope it’s not something dramatic when it eventually comes up. If it comes up.”

“Well, you can always ask the Vigil if you get nabbed again,” Tsuki grunted, wrapping her cloak tighter around herself. “I wouldn’t expect them to give you the whole story, though.”

“Yeah…maybe,” Saigo said vaguely, breathing into his cupped hands. “It’d be nice if I could do that without being locked in a chair.”

“You should ask the next ones we see.”

“Uh…no. It’s bad enough being in a new province. I’d rather not do a blind test to see if I’m wanted here as well.”

“You’ve got no sense of fun.”

“I haven’t got your sense of fun. What I have got is a healthy sense of avoid-Central-at-all-costs-to-preserve-my-freedom.”

“Yeah, right.”

They walked on, cliffs on their left and sea on their right. The grey sky faded in and out of view with the slow drift of thick, low-flying clouds.

Eventually, bare rock and mountain gave way to trees, growing stubbornly in whatever patch of not-complete-stone they could find. Driftwood littered the rocky shoreline, waves spraying as they crashed across heavy stone outcroppings.

Saigo kept his hands balled up inside his vest pockets and his ears folded back, the air biting at his lungs. Back in Kaiko, the wind had been crisp at worst, but here it cut right through his sweater, bitter and sharp.

At one point, while inspecting the frayed state of his sweater, his mind drifted to the hefty pouch of coins dangling off his hip. Given the weight of it, he could probably stand to do a little shopping when they got to Glavnan.

Another gust of wind blasted over his head, digging hooks into his ears. He looked at the road ahead, coated in ice, and glanced at the sky, smelling of snow.

They'd just have to get there first.

Chapter Text

Slumber 63, A.R. 372

Shhff…

Shhff…

Shhff…

FWUMFP

Saigo jumped as a clump of damp snow spattered on his head and spilled down the back of his neck. He swiped at his collar but wasn’t quite fast enough to stop the trickling chill from working its way down his spine.

“I SWEAR to SUL,” he said, pulling at his backpack and sweater in a vain effort to shake out the snow. “This forest has GOT to have it out for me. That’s the fourth time now, and if it happens again I might actually scream.”

“You screamed the first time it happened,” Tsuki said.

“Doesn’t count, that was a surprise, not a result of me experiencing a crisis of luck. See anything yet?”

“Snow. Way too much snow,” Tsuki said. “More snow than anyone needs to see in their entire life. We were past the point of too much snow yesterday.”

“And trees. Lots of trees,” Saigo added, squinting through the dense forest and hoping, yet again, that they were following a real path. The mountain to their left was a comforting presence, solid in its assurances that if they kept to it, they would eventually reach Glavnan.

“Shouldn’t we be there already?” Tsuki complained.

“Well, the map did a poor job of showing how much snow would be on the ground this morning, so we’re experiencing a bit of a setback. But we should get there soon. I think. Before second cycle, I hope.”

“If my paws fall off before we get there, I’m blaming you.”

“So if they fall off after we get there I’m in the clear?”

“Don’t push your luck.”

Crrrrkkkk—

Saigo’s ears twitched, and he jumped to the side just before the familiar fwumfp! of snow hit the ground, narrowly missing him with the exception of a few superficial clumps.

“Ha!” he shouted, pointing at the depression in the snow. “Not this time!”

Paf

A chunk of snow exploded across the back of his head, making him stagger forward a step. He whirled to see Tsuki with an expression of forged innocence on her face.

“Come on, can’t I have one victory?” Saigo said, shifting his pack higher. “Please don’t side with the forest. It’s already out to get me.”

Tsuki replied with a stare of puzzled injury.

Saigo looked forward again, studying the lay of the trees and taking his best guess at how the path proceeded. He’d checked the map multiple times over the course of the morning and afternoon, and if he’d been making the right decisions, they ought to be seeing the town any…

…minute…

…n—

“I see something!” Tsuki said suddenly, startling Saigo amidst the muffled silence of the forest. She sprang past him, kicking up snow and pointing with a claw. “Over there!”

Saigo clumped after her, squinting through the trees, and finally saw something that wasn’t forest, rock, or snow. The closer they came, speeding up in their excitement, the more it took the shape of a broad-beamed and sharp-roofed building, with more scattered beyond it.

Saigo focused on the board above the door, which spelled out words in fresh white, stark against the dark wood and heavy stone structure.

Die Wolfskleidung

“Oh, it’s a clothing store,” he realized as they jogged the last few steps into the little square clear of snow directly in front of the building. “That’s auspicious.”

“It looks fine to me,” Tsuki said, marching straight up to the door and heaving it open. “Lucky’s more like it. They’ve got to have something better than a worn-out cloak here.”

“I’d say there’s a fair chance of that,” Saigo said, following her in.

He stamped his paws on the mat just inside the shop as the door slammed shut behind him. It was warm inside, but not sweltering—enough to make his extremities tingle as the heat dragged the chill out of his limbs.

Shelves lined the walls of the wide room, filled from top to bottom with neatly folded stacks of clothes. A few select coats, pants, shirts, and other articles of clothing in a wide variety of sizes were displayed on wire frames throughout the room, alongside a few thoughtful mirrors.

“Hallo!” a high voice called cheerily.

Saigo looked around a saw a young lupine face pop up from behind a counter, bright blue eyes sparkling.

“Customers, ja?” the pup yapped excitedly, his ears flicking forward and nose twitching. “Kaikan? Here for new clothes?”

Saigo glanced at Tsuki, who nodded.

“Definitely,” he said, looking back at the pup. “You speak Kaikan here? <If you prefer Fjalitian, we can do that too.>”

The pup gasped, pulling himself up over the counter and staring at Saigo with wide eyes. He turned his head toward the other end of the store.

“<Papa! We’ve got Kaikan customers who speak Fjalitian!>” he yelled. “<They’ve come for new clothes!>”

“<Eh? Really?>” a much deeper voice called back. “I come!”

A rotund lupine with brown fur bustled out of a back room and made a beeline across the floor, the eagerness on his shaggy face a perfect match to the pup’s.

“Welcome!” he bellowed, grabbing their hands and shaking them vigorously. “Speaks Fjali, ja? <One of you, both of you? It’s not every day we get a speaker from out of Fjali!>”

“<Oh, that’s just me,>” Saigo said, his shoulder almost jerking out of its socket. He managed to retrieve his hand and massaged some feeling back into it. “<I am called Honto, Honto Gimei. What is your name?>”

“WUNDERBAR!” the lupine boomed, throwing his hands in the air. “<We are the Shulfs of Glavnan, and I am Felix Shulf! Welcome to Glavnan and also our home and store! What can we help you with?>”

A sharp elbow jabbed Saigo in the side, and he looked around at Tsuki, who wore an expression of urgent panic.

“What’s going on?” she muttered. “I’m not getting a single word.”

“Ah! Apologize!” Felix said, clapping his hands together and bowing his head before Saigo could respond. “Much excitement today! You here for clothes, ja? We help, we help!” He snapped his claws above his head. “Peter!”

“I’ll get Mama!” the pup—Peter—yapped, dropping down from behind the counter and scurrying away through another door in the far wall.

“So!” Felix said, grinning widely and rubbing his hands. “What you need, hah?”

“<I think just a bit here and there—>” Saigo started to say, stuttering to a halt when Felix grabbed him by the shoulder and towed him to the center of the room. He stumbled and straightened up, stammering as the lupine prowled around him. “Uh, I’m sorry ell, what—”

“Hmmm…off!” Felix declared, pulling off Saigo’s pack and the wrapped sword in one firm, swift movement. “No good!”

“<Shulf-ell, I don’t think we’re looking for anything, uh…> extravagant—?” Saigo tried to say, but Felix silenced him with a wave of his hand.

“<Forgive me for my lack of fluency in Kaikan, my friend, but when I say> ‘no good,’ <I mean I simply need a better look to discern what you need,>” Felix explained, sliding back the sleeve of Saigo’s sweater and inspecting his forearm critically. “<I am a Shulf of Glavnan! We have a proud history of craftkinship as a town, and the Shulfs have always put clothes on people’s backs! It would be our shame to have a guest go ill-fitted. And you are a special guest as well! Please, allow us to accommodate you properly.>”

Saigo gave up.

“<Thank you, Shulf-ell, I appreciate it.>”

“<Wonderful!>” Felix said, spinning Saigo around and patting him up and down. “<Hmmm…you’re a runner, aren’t you? Something you can move around in, then…ah, Alicia!>”

A tall, dark-furred lupine swept gracefully into the room, guided by a bouncing Peter and another, younger pup with the same color fur as Felix.

Felix nodded toward Tsuki, who was standing near the door and watching them all warily.

“<I imagine she needs a complete new set as well, my love,>” he said, pushing Saigo’s arms up into a T-position. “<Oh, and this fine young kit is Honto!>”

“<Nice to meet you,>” Saigo said politely, nodding awkwardly while Felix continued to probe him all over.

“Oh, no need, dear, though I do appreciate it,” Alicia said graciously in a thick Fjalitian accent, giving him a warm handshake. “Is the vulpine your love?”

“Uh…”

Ice trickled down Saigo’s spine, and he glanced past her at Tsuki, his mind going blank.

She stared straight back at him, arms folded and a muscle twitching in her cheek.

“…No,” Saigo said, swallowing and looking back at Alicia. “We’re, uh, cousins. Her name’s Honto, Honto Ahri.”

“Oh, I see!” Alicia said, nodding cheerfully and not looking the slightest bit abashed. “Well, I hope you are taking good care of each other, and now we shall do the same, yes? Eva! Let us do good work!”

“Yes, Mama,” the little lupine said, detaching from her mother’s skirts and darting over to Tsuki. She held out a hand.

“Mama wants to help you have good new clothes, please!” she said, enunciating each word with slow care. “Will you come with me?”

Tsuki blinked, and then—to Saigo’s surprise—smiled. It was tentative and small and she was very determinedly not looking at Saigo, but it was definitely a smile.

Saigo had seen her grin before, but a smile…that was different, as was watching her obediently take Eva’s hand and follow her over to Alicia.

“We’ll be in the other room,” Alicia said, gliding through the far door with Tsuki and Eva in tow.

“Of course, of course!” Felix said, nodding vigorously without looking up. “Peter, stay here, you help!”

“Ja, Papa!” Peter said, snapping to attention. “Measuring string?”

“Ja, schnell!”

The pup scampered away while Felix directed Saigo to remove his vest and sweater. Saigo reluctantly complied, taking particular care to fold up his vest and set it at his paws.

Felix rubbed the fabric of Saigo’s shirt between his claws and hummed disapprovingly.

“<This material…very poor, very poorly made,>” he said. “<Where did you get it and how long have you had it?>”

“<I got it from a secondhand store a few weeks ago,>” Saigo said. “<I really didn’t prepare properly for slumber in Fjali. We got here only yesterday.>”

“<Ah, so we are the lucky ones!>” Felix said, brightening up. “<Wonderful! Now, off with this!>”

Felix pushed Saigo’s arms straight up above his head and slid the shirt off in one practiced motion. Saigo flinched as bare air touched his fur, glancing apprehensively at his left shoulder…

…but the mark was nowhere to be seen, or simply dim enough that it wasn’t showing up in the brightly lit shop. He let out a silent breath of relief and focused instead on feeling uncomfortable now that he’d been stripped of most of his clothes.

“Peter!” Felix barked, marching away and starting to pull clothes off the shelves.

“Ja, Papa!” Peter said, scrambling over to Saigo and holding up a brush. “Would you like to clean your fur, unden, or I can do it if you like! Papa says it helps before you put new clothes on!”

“Oh,” Saigo said, blinking and accepting the brush. “Uh, thank you.”

“No problem!” Peter said cheerfully, darting away. “I will do your back for you!”

Saigo dragged the brush over his arms, wincing as it caught on the occasional snarl. How long had it been since he’d last cleaned his fur properly? Or visited a steam house, for that matter?

He glanced around when something clacked behind him and saw Peter stepping up on a wooden stool.

“Thank you,” he said, nodding as he cleaned out the brush and started on his chest and stomach.

“Yes, unden!”

There was silence for several seconds, conspicuously absent of the sensation of a brush on his back.

“Uh…unden?”

“Yeah?” Saigo said, cleaning the brush again and running it through his hair with some difficulty.

“Your back will not hurt if I brush it, ja?”

Saigo looked over his shoulder at the pup.

“I…don’t think so, no. Why? Is something there?” he asked, twisting to see.

He turned fully, still looking over his shoulder, and caught sight of his back in the mirror.

He inhaled sharply, fumbling his brush in the moment of shock. It hit the floor bristles-first with a dull shuff.

“Did something happen there, unden?” Peter asked. “It looks very bad.”

“I…it…does, doesn’t it,” Saigo said quietly, reaching a hand around and touching the edge of the…mess.

It was the only way he could think to describe it. One huge mess of scar tissue, sprinkled with furless blotches around the edges. The twisted flesh ran in a crooked slash down the length of his spine and blossomed in the small of his back, not quite reaching his shoulders or tail.

He stared, mesmerized. This whole time…this whole time…he’d had no idea. He’d never really felt much back there in the first place, not that he could remember. What in Sul’s name…

“<That’s quite a story there on your back.>”

Saigo turned quickly to see Felix, who he hadn’t even noticed approaching. He was holding a considerable stack of folded clothes, his previously brilliant smile suddenly dim.

“Y-yes, I suppose so,” Saigo said, resisting the urge to turn and stare at his back again. “<I…don’t want to talk about it, please.>”

“<Of course, of course,>” Felix said, nodding. “<If I might have the pleasure of distracting you, I have here the perfect outfit for you, along with extra changes!>”

“<Please do,>” Saigo said, carefully corralling his harried thoughts and closing the gate on them for now. He could…he could ask Hadvo, later. “<I’m sorry, but how much will all this cost? I know you said a complete new set…?>”

“<Bah, there is no worry about money,>” Felix said dismissively, placing the clothes on a nearby table. “<The Shulfs of Glavnan are the name to trust in both quality and affordability! Old rules, because this is an old town, and everything works out when everyone works together! Still, if the cost altogether is greater than what you can spare, we can make adjustments.>”

He held up a thin, long-sleeved shirt made of a dark material and inspected it critically.

“<Greed empties hearts along with pockets,>” he said. “<There is always enough to go around. Now, to business! First, we have this undergarment, made especially for shortfurs like yourself. Not too thick, just enough to insulate. Shedweave cloth, dyed uniform. On!>”

The shirt fit perfectly, snug without rubbing his fur the wrong way.

“<You said this is an old town?>” Saigo asked, as Felix sorted through the rest of the clothes, dividing them into two piles.

“<Yes! Glavnan, long history, with many a Gin to our name,>” Felix said proudly, pressing a change of pants and underclothes into Saigo’s hands. “<Room, over there! Go change.>”

Saigo followed his directions, stepping into the designated room and closing the door.

“<It seems to be a very nice place,>” he called as he changed.

“<HA! Yes, very nice place indeed,>” Felix said, voice muffled through the door. “<Like I said, it’s very old, stopped growing long before my time. It’s had its troubles, of course, and visitors often mistake us for simply a stop along the road to Einsam, but we are a proud town! Many skilled craftkin families, all of whom know each other well!>”

“<That’s a wonderful thing to hear, Shulf-ell,>” Saigo said, opening the door and padding out, bundling up his old clothes. “<Uh, would it be too much to ask to dispose of these? I probably won’t be needing them again…>”

“<Of course! Peter!>” Felix barked, taking them. “<I wouldn’t dream of letting you leave here with them in the first place. Much too old. Anyway, these on, now!>”

Saigo accepted and put on a loose, comfortable shirt, followed by a—

“<Oh, I, uh, I won’t have any need for this, I’m afraid,>” Saigo said, trying to hand the stylish vest back. “<My old one is quite sentimental, so…>”

“<Take it anyway, just in case,>” Felix insisted, pushing it back at him. “<I cannot argue with sentimentality, but it is always good to have a backup.>”

“All right…” Saigo said, folding it up and pulling on his spell vest. A dense coat followed, settling heavily on his shoulders.

He finished adjusting it and glanced into the mirror. His skinny frame remained painfully visible even through the layers, the tasteful outfit misplaced on a body he’d grown used to seeing in fourth-hand clothes.

“<So, what brought you to our humble town in the first place?>” Felix asked, bundling up an extra shirt, a pair of pants, and a few sets of underclothes. He tied them up with a length of twine, then set the bundle alongside a round cap and a new scarf. “<Visiting, passing through?>”

“<A…little of both, actually,>” Saigo said carefully. “<To tell you the truth, I came here to do some research on the Fourfront.>”

“<Ah, are you one of the> Herzscrollen?” Felix asked, as peter returned from disposing of Saigo’s old clothes.

“Herz…scrollen?” Saigo echoed. “Herz is…ah, ‘heart,’ isn’t it?”

“Papa means ‘scroll heart,’” Peter piped up, hopping onto the low table beside them and scribbling down numbers on a piece of paper. “He’s talking about the excited people who ask lots of questions. They’re crazy.”

“Oh, the Scholarium? I guess that makes sense. <Scrollheart…> interesting. <No, I’m not certified. Just curious. Are there any places of interest regarding the…> ah, what is it called…<Soul of Vibrancy?>”

“<I believe Chelvek has a museum of sorts,>” Felix said, leaning over Peter’s shoulder and pointing at a column of numbers. “Hm. Three less here. <The scrollhearts mention it sometimes. They want to visit the big maze, too, but they typically come back disappointed.>”

“The what?” Saigo said, pausing in the middle of sorting through his money pouch.

“Ah…big, er, turns? <Shards, what’s the word?> Ja, maze. Big maze,” Felix said, still scrutinizing Peter’s number-work.

“<A big maze…where is that?>” Saigo asked. “<Does it have something to do with the Soul of Vibrancy?>”

“Oh, ja,” Felix said, nodding seriously. “<The scrollhearts make a big deal out of it. Big place for the Soul of Vibrancy, they say. An old First Ones ruin, nasty prison. Just near Tulvachev. Has a large Searcher presence, I understand.>”

“Really? You’re sure?”

“<Of course,>” Felix said, accepting the paper Peter passed up to him. “<Never seen it myself, but plenty of scrollhearts come through talking about it. Lots of rumors about the Soul of Vibrancy. Now, as for total cost of the whole set, plus the extra changes, minus your clothes which we’re buying from you to use as rags…that will be eighteen hatch. A good price, yes?>”

“<Considering all this…>” Saigo said, looking over his brand-new and immensely comfortable clothes. “<How about we make it an even twenty? It’s the least I can add considering how helpful you’ve been.>”

“<No, no no no, that won’t do at all,>” Felix said firmly, shaking his head. “<Take that hatch and spend it elsewhere. What goes around comes around.>”

“If you insist,” Saigo said, counting out the money. “Thank you for all your help. <Do you think my cousin is done yet?>”

Felix snapped his claws.

“Peter!”

“Yes Papa!”

Peter scurried away, and Saigo followed Felix over to the counter, handing over the hatch. The lupine accepted it graciously, stowing it in a small box.

“<So, are you thinking about visiting the big maze yourself?>” Felix asked, replacing the box beneath the counter.

“<I’m considering it,>” Saigo said, securing the rest of his equipment. “<This coat is very comfortable, thank you. But yes, I might have to. Is Tulvachev far from here?>”

“<It’s three days east-by-northeast by paw, but you’ll get there much faster with a sled,>” Felix said. “<That’s by far the best way to travel if you’re not keen on renting an olinoo. Sled makes hills and deep snow much easier.>”

“<I’ll give it some thought, though it does sound quite nice,>” Saigo said. “<I’ll have to consult with my cousin before we make a decision.>”

Felix nodded understandingly.

“<Do give it it’s due consideration, please,>” he said, winking. “<There’s a masterful carpentry family in town, woefully lorn for a time as a result of the nasty business a few years ago, but we’re ecstatic to have them back. There’s only the one at the moment, but he’s doing a brilliant job recovering his family’s legacy. He’ll get you fixed up in no time.>”

“<Good to know,>” Saigo said, just as one of the back doors opened up and Peter marched in, followed by Alicia and Eva with Tsuki at the rear.

She’d been supplied with new clothes similar in style to what she’d worn previously, though she’d swapped her cloak out for a coat, which looked a lot lighter than his, no doubt to account for her fur.

“Good clothes, aren’t they?” Saigo said.

She gave him a quick up-and-down, ears flicking.

“Yeah, and you finally look like you haven’t been living in a gutter for the past season,” she said, mouth twitching wryly.

“Wow, thank you, that was very nearly a compliment,” Saigo said. He looked back at Felix, who had been joined by Alicia behind the counter. “<Thank you again very much. You’ve done us a great favor.>”

“Bah, is nothing,” Felix said dismissively. “You good customer! Come again! Always welcome.”

Tsuki nodded stiffly at Alicia.

“Thanks for the clothes,” she said. Her gaze softened as she lowered it to the other person nearly hidden behind the counter. “Eva, thank you very much for your help.”

The pup nodded solemnly, waving as Saigo and Tsuki moved to the door.

“Come again!” Alicia called after them.

Saigo and Tsuki waved back to the family, then stepped out into Glavnan.

Chapter Text

Slumber 63, A.R. 372

“Okay, I’ll admit, that was nice,” Tsuki said as they trudged away from Die Wolfskleidung. “She even gave me a new rag for cleaning my knives.”

“That’s nice,” Saigo said, not really listening.

Tulvachev…

“Hey!”

“What?” Saigo said, his attention snapping back to Tsuki.

“I asked if you knew where to go next,” Tsuki said. “Since, you know, we’re wandering around with no direction that I’m aware of. Does the ghost in your head have anything useful to offer?”

“No, Hadvo hasn’t checked in in a while,” Saigo said. “But as a matter of fact, I talked with Felix and he told me there’s a lot of Certs who make their way to Tulvachev, which is about three days from here by paw. Apparently there’s a massive maze there—a ruin that has something to do with the Soulspark.”

“Woo-hoo. More endless tramping through snow,” Tsuki said, waving her hands in the air sarcastically. “I can’t wait to get started. Oh look, we’re already doing it.”

“He also mentioned there was a carpenter in town who could supply us with a…sled, I think it was,” Saigo added. “He said it would make travel a lot easier.”

“A sled? Now that sounds like fun,” Tsuki said, brightening up. “Where are they?”

“I…don’t know, actually, I forgot to ask where he was located,” Saigo said, tugging absently on his whiskers. “We’ll just ask the next person we see. I’ve been getting the impression most people here know each other.”

“You’ll ask, you mean,” Tsuki said, punching him lightly on the shoulder. “Look, there’s someone now. Go ahead, work your linguistic magic.”

“Where?” Saigo said.

“On your right.”

“Oh.”

Saigo twisted his head and caught sight of the reported person—a tall, white-furred ursine, wearing nothing more than a pair of overalls and a vest and dragging a sled laden with barrels.

“<Excuse me, ell!>” Saigo said, trotting over to them. “<Sorry to bother you, but could you spare a moment?>”

“Eh?” the ursine grunted, looking down at him. “Vhat you say?”

“<I had a question I wanted to ask!>” Saigo said, louder than before.

“<Oh, a question? Yes, go right ahead, little one,>” the ursine said. “<You speak good Fjalitian.>”

“<Thank you very much, ell,>” Saigo said. “<Do you know where the carpenter is?>”

“Hah?” the ursine said, leaning closer. “<Sorry, bad hearing. What?>”

“<Do you know where the carpenter is!>” Saigo repeated, raising his voice. “<We need a sled!>”

“Hah? Zimmermann? Ja, ja, der wolf,” the ursine said, pointing a heavy hand ahead. “Dat way. House, ja?”

“Ja, thank you, ell!” Saigo half-shouted, starting to slog in that direction.

“Where are we going now?” Tsuki asked, catching up with him.

“The carpenter’s house, I think,” Saigo said. “He’s a lupine.”

“How far?”

“Not sure. They just said it was this way.”

Tsuki squinted where he pointed. It was mostly snow, broken by trees, with the occasional roof or wall visible in the middle distance.

“This is a town, right?” she said.

Saigo saw her point. Glavnan didn’t seem to have much in the way of roads—just houses and buildings scattered about through the woods in places where the trees weren’t quite as closely placed.

“This…might just be normal?” he said uncertainly. “I mean, we are still in the outskirts of Fjali, so there might be more…compact places farther in. And I’m sure they’ve got cities with paved roads somewhere.”

“Great. What are we looking for, exactly? All these buildings look the same.”

“Well, the word for carpenter in Fjalitian is ‘zimmermann,’ so there’s a good chance he’ll have a sign up,” Saigo suggested. “We ought to see something like that sooner or later.”

They plodded onward, passing buildings and the occasional person out and about. Most of them responded cheerfully to Saigo’s salutations, many even calling out before he could. Everyone he asked about the carpenter pointed the same way.

Despite the bitter wind nipping at Saigo’s ears, his new clothes were keeping out the cold far better than his old sweater had been. He had to hand it to the Shulfs—they really knew how to outfit someone. No wonder theirs was the first building on the way into Glavnan.

Buildings passed one after another, never clumped together and becoming farther and farther apart the longer they walked. Saigo and Tsuki ping-ponged between them, searching for signs of the rumored carpenter.

“Seriously, where is he?” Tsuki grumbled after another eight fruitless minutes. “Did we pass his place or something?”

“I don’t think so…” Saigo said. “Maybe we can knock at the next door and get some more specific directions.”

“I think I see one up ahead.”

Saigo squinted, weaving back and forth in an effort to spot it through the trees. It gradually came into view—a small, modest house, sitting alone in a wide clearing.

“I don’t think there’s anyone home,” Tsuki said as they approached.

“Why do you say that?” Saigo asked.

She pointed at the stone chimney extruding from the roof.

“No smoke,” she said.

“We can check just in case,” Saigo said, crossing the clearing and moving around where he’d guess the front door should—

He paused, two points of interest grabbing his attention.

First was the sign hanging above the door with the word zimmermann in simple lettering, and second was the extension to the house he hadn't seen due to their angle of approach: a large shed almost the same size as the main structure, doors closed, a pile of lumber in various shapes and sizes tucked away in a lean-to up against the wall.

“What do you know…” Saigo muttered to himself, taking a step back to get a better look at the shed. “Hey, Tsuki, this is it!”

“What, really?”

Tsuki jogged over to him, taking in the shed.

“Wow, finally,” she said, kicking the snow off her paws. “Are you going to knock or what? Let’s get a sled already.”

Tok tok tok tok

Saigo waited, rocking on his paws and watching the door hopefully. He couldn’t hear any movement from inside, but maybe that was just his new hat muffling his ears…

Thirty seconds…

…a minute…

…nothing.

He looked at Tsuki.

“The shed?” she suggested.

They walked over. Saigo raised his hand to knock but stopped when he saw the small sign hanging from the handle.

Später zurück sein.

“Ah, shards,” he sighed, not completely surprised. “He’s not here.”

“Why, what does it say?”

“‘Be back later,’” Saigo read. “He must be out, maybe on errands. Do you want to wait here for him? I’m not sure how long that’ll take, but…”

“Shards no,” Tsuki said, making a face. “How about we just break in, take a sled if he’s got any, and leave some money?”

“Absolutely not,” Saigo said firmly. “I’ve got a good ‘no enemies’ thing going on for once, and I don’t want to end that prematurely. Besides, he’s a lupine. He’d probably track us down, and I’d rather not have anyone else chasing me.”

“You’ve got no sense of urgency, do you? I thought you wanted to get there fast.”

“That’s typically true, but I would also like to get there without causing problems for a town that’s been nothing but welcoming,” Saigo insisted. “Look, it’s not too late in the day. I bet he’ll be back soon, or we can wait around somewhere else and check back later.”

“What if we looked for him instead?” Tsuki said, pointing at the ground.

Saigo looked down.

Tracks. Large lupine pawprints, with two lines running on either side of them. A sled, then? He sniffed at the air and caught the lingering scents of sawdust, pine, metal, varnish, bread, lupine fur, and…something else. A semi-familiar scent, just beyond the reach of recognition.

“Well…I suppose we’re not up to anything else at the moment,” he said, looking back up at Tsuki. “Lead the way?”

“If you insist.”

Saigo followed her, glancing over his shoulder at the little home as it faded behind them.

They trailed after the tracks, accompanied by a subtle chorus of crunching snow and rattling branches. Forest extended in every direction, the horizon lost somewhere beyond it.

They passed a few houses, the tracks weaving between trees but always heading in the same direction, suggesting a clear purpose in the carpenter’s path.

Eventually, the tracks evened out and lined up in a straight shot towards a particular house, leading right up to the door, whereafter they faded into a tangled mess of other tracks.

Saigo exchanged a glance with Tsuki, who nodded. He raised a hand and knocked on the door.

Tok tok tok tok

Somewhere beyond it, a voice muttered something and feet clumped closer. The door opened, and a bald human with a prodigious black beard and wild eyebrows looked out, squinting at Saigo.

“Ja?” he grunted.

“<Sorry to bother you, ell, but we’re looking for the carpenter,>” Saigo said. “<We, uh, followed his tracks here. Is he available?>”

“<Ah, the carpenter?>” the human said, his eyebrows unknitting and the glower disappearing from his face. “<Yes, he was here just an hour ago, fixing my roof. Good kin, solid work. He said he was going over to the Yurtle’s next.>”

“<Oh, okay, thank you,>” Saigo said, nodding. “<Which way is that? We’re visitors to Glavnan.>”

“<Yes, no problem,>” the human said leaning out of the doorway and pointing. “<You’ll want to head south about five minutes. Large house, a big fire pit out front with a bunch of stumps around it.>”

“<Thanks very much, ell, have a good day,>” Saigo said, bowing.

The human nodded and closed the door.

Tsuki nudged Saigo.

“What’d he say?” she asked. “I heard the carpenter word but that was about it.”

“He was here an hour ago,” Saigo said, turning and jogging in the direction the human had pointed. “He went this way.”

“Great, here we go again…hopefully he’s got a long job there,” Tsuki grumbled, darting ahead of him. “Found his tracks, come on.”

They jogged through the woods, Saigo repeating the human’s directions in his head and staring hard at every house they passed.

He spotted it before Tsuki, thanks especially to the collection of stumps set around a sizeable depression in the ground.

“I think that’s it,” he said breathlessly as they approached. “He said it was…a large house, so…”

Saigo paused for a moment to catch his breath before trotting up the steps and knocking on the door.

It opened after several seconds, and a lepine poked their head out, a leveret cradled in one arm.

“<Can I help you?>”

“<Did the carpenter come through here?>” Saigo asked. “<Sorry, we’re trying to catch up with him.>”

“<Oh, yes, you missed him by almost an hour,>” the lepine said, their face brightening. “<He was dropping off some repaired chairs for us! He went east from here, I think he mentioned something about a porch.>”

“<Right, thank you very much,>” Saigo said, turning and shaking his head at Tsuki.

Another six minutes of jogging, and they found themselves at a small shack with a broad porch looking especially clean.

“<Oh, you just missed him, near thirty minutes ago,>” the old simian sitting in a rocking chair on the refurbished porch said, pointing a shaky finger. “<North-east he went, such a gentlekin he is, too…>”

And so it went, to the next location, where a young human and scrofine couple had just finished setting up a cradle in preparation for a newborn.

“<Aye, he made all the parts himself,>” the human said, nodding proudly. “<Right quick, too, we only asked him about it a couple days ago, and assembly was no problem at all. He went south of here, I think, in a bit of a hurry.>”

“Seriously, is this carpenter just in a full sprint at all times?” Tsuki complained, the headwind flinging her words back to Saigo’s ears. “And how is it we haven’t crossed paths with him once with how much he’s moving?!”

“Don’t know,” Saigo called back, keeping his head down. “Maybe we caught him on a busy day. We’re getting closer, though.”

“Saigo!”

“Hah!” Saigo yelped, losing his footing and almost crashing into a tree.

“Ah, sorry about that. Where’s here? Hey, you’re looking sharp. New clothes?”

“A little town about a day from where we made port, thank you, and yes. Where have you been?” Saigo demanded, waving a hasty hand at Tsuki when she looked back. “You haven’t said a word since the boat ride!”

“Sorry, sorry, I had to deal with a bunch of stuff and could only glance in on a couple of occasions. It seemed like you were doing fine.”

“Well…yeah, actually, it’s been okay,” Saigo admitted. “Question, did you know I’m fluent in Fjalitian?”

“Of course I—wait, no way. Did you not know?”

“No! How would I know that?”

“Oh, shards, I thought you already knew! I never thought to bring it up! How’d you find out?”

“Talking to an inspector and almost getting arrested! Never mind. I’ll tell you the whole story later. And there’s something else I need to talk to you about, but…it can wait.”

“…Oh. Sorry I’ve been gone so long, Saigo, I didn’t—”

“It’s all right, it’s fine,” Saigo sighed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped.”

“It’s all good, Saigo. What’s going on right now? Is someone chasing you?”

“No, actually, it’s the other way around for once,” Saigo said. “We’re trying to find a carpenter who can get us a sled so we can get to Tulvachev, which might help us figure out where the next clue is.”

“Good for you. Anything I can do to help?”

“Just keep your eyes peeled, however long you’re here,” Saigo said. “We’ve been chasing him for more than half an hour already, and we’re really hoping to catch up soon.”

“Sounds like—hey, do you smell that?”

“Smell wh—”

Saigo stumbled again as his nose finally got the message through to his brain.

Smoke.

More acrid than any chimney smoke he’d smelled so far, and now he could see a thin plume of darker grey winding through the air, and Tsuki had sped up, darting around trees, Saigo’s heart thumping faster and faster, a building coming into a view—

They slowed to a stop just inside a new clearing, staring up at a roof…not in flames. A small group of people were standing in front of the house, talking, and a couple of them looked around at Saigo and Tsuki’s arrival.

“<Hello?>” one of them said, walking over. “<Oh, did you smell the smoke? Not to worry, it’s been put out already. I don’t recognize either of you. Visitors in town?>”

“It’s out already?” Saigo asked, his heart starting to slow. Shards…when had his hands started shaking? “That’s…that’s good to hear. <Oh! Yes, sorry, we’re visiting, but smelled…yes. Your name?>”

The willowy human smiled and offered a hand.

“<Roga of Glavnan, at your service,>” he said. “<Pleased to meet you…?>”

“<Honto,>” Saigo said, shaking the proffered hand. “<Sorry to come in suddenly. Uh…by any chance was the carpenter here?>”

“<Him? Oh, yes, he was the first on the scene,>” Roga said, nodding at the house, which still had thin trails of smoke leaking from a couple windows. “<He got some snow in right away to put out the carpet, but he’s already left. Trying to catch up with him, are you?>”

“<Yes, actually,>” Saigo sighed, catching Tsuki’s eye and shaking his head. She huffed and wandered off to study the mess of tracks on the ground. “<We’re looking to get a sled. Which way did he go?>”

“<North, I believe,>” Roga said. “<Your first time meeting him?>”

“<Yes, but from what I’ve heard, he’s well-respected,>” Saigo said, bowing. “<Thank you very much, we’ll be on our way.>”

“<Travel safely, then,>” Roga said, nodding back. “<He’s a kind sort, and there’s no doubt he’ll get you what you need.>”

Saigo started walking, waving at Tsuki.

“North,” he said once they were out of the clearing. “Here’s hoping we catch up to him this time.”

“I’m starting to wonder if this is worth it,” Tsuki grumbled. “This sled better be like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

“I guess we’ll find out when we get it,” Saigo said, scanning the ground. “See his tracks anywhere?”

“Not yet.”

“Over there, to the left.”

“Here?” Saigo said, taking a few steps.

“What?”

“Hadvo said left.”

“Oh, there they are. Hold on, aren’t these our tracks too?”

“Sure looks like it,” Saigo said. “Think he’s heading back to his house? We might be able to catch him in his workshop.”

“You can run faster than you have been, right?”

“In this snow? Not by much.”

“Find some hustle, then, all right? We’re going to pick up the pace. He’s not getting away this time.”

“Okay…” Saigo said doubtfully, tightening the straps of his pack.

“Ready? Go!”

Snow sprayed in the air, and then they were running, bounding between trees, the wind pushing them forward. Forest passed too fast for Saigo to rightly determine if he recognized the area or not, but in a matter of minutes he could see the house coming up ahead of them.

Tsuki slowed down abruptly as they came to the edge of the clearing, kicking up a sheet of snow that sprayed across the nearest trees and stuck to their trunks.

Saigo stumbled to a stop, panting, his coat suddenly a little too warm. He leaned against a newly frosted tree, regaining his composure before following Tsuki toward the house, lungs still aching.

She marched up to the front door, sniffed at the air for a second, and then walked past it to the shed.

Saigo dropped his pack on the ground near the front door and staggered after her. With any luck, he wouldn’t have to pick it up for a while.

His future brightened considerably when he saw the doors to the shed standing ajar, a simple but beautifully crafted sled sitting out front. The sound of clacking wood and soft humming came from inside.

Tsuki planted herself in front of the open doors and called into the shed.

“Hey, you! You’re the…”

She paused, looking over at Saigo.

“What’s the word?” she asked, snapping her claws. “The carpenter word.”

“Zimmermann?” Saigo said.

“Yeah, that’s right,” she said, nodding and looking back into the shed. “You’re the zimmermann around here, right? We want a sled!”

The sounds inside the shed had stopped the moment Tsuki spoke, and now pawsteps approached, pushing the doors open wide.

He was…a lupine, of course, bigger than most Saigo could remember seeing. He and Felix had been about matched in height, but this one’s ears had to be at least a foot above Saigo’s.

He was broad, too, almost as wide as the door, shaggy grey fur coated in wood dust. He also looked…

…surprisingly young? Early to mid-twenties, at the oldest. He wore a clean buttoned shirt with the sleeves rolled up past his elbows, suspenders, and had a red bandana tied loosely under his neck.

The carpenter wiped his hands on a cloth, looking at Tsuki. He nodded at her, opening his mouth…

…and stopped, his ears flicking over to Saigo a fraction of a second before his eyes. His smile turned into a puzzled frown, and then the rag dropped from his claws, recognition dawning on his face.

Saigo’s head began to pound just as the lupine spoke.

“Saina?”

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Slumber 63, A.R. 372

Saina?

The name walked across the clearing and slapped Saigo across the face, making his ears ring. He blinked, first at the shock and then a second time because of the throb behind his eyes, not especially painful but enough for him to take a half-step back and survey the lupine more carefully.

“I…hello?” he said guardedly. “I’m very sorry, but my…name’s not—”

“Saina!” the lupine gasped, charging across the clearing and grabbing him by the shoulders. Before Saigo could so much as squeak out a spell command, the lupine picked him up off the ground and pulled him into a bone-crunching hug.

“Ohshit.”

“Saina!” the lupine exclaimed again, dancing around. “Du bist gekommen, um mich zu sehen?! When you got here? Did not tell me you visiting!”

“Hgrukphf!” Saigo wheezed in reply, partly from the loss of breath and also because the lower half of his face was buried in the lupine’s thick ruff. He nevertheless managed to make urgent eyes—well, one urgent eye—at Tsuki, who was goggling open-mouthed at them.

Before she could intervene—and thankfully so, Saigo realized later, given her average response to conflict was to hit it over the head—the lupine released Saigo, steadying him when he staggered from the sudden return of autonomy.

“Smell different!” the lupine said, still beaming. “<I didn’t know you’d come by at first, but it makes sense you stopped at the Shulf’s first! They’ve been very kind since I got back, and—>”

He stopped suddenly, ears twitching.

“Are you all right?” he asked. “Face all…what happen?”

“I—I—I—” Saigo stuttered, head astorm with whirling needles of pain. What was happening? Who was this? Did they actually know each other? Wrong name wrong name wrong name wrong name—

“I’m sorry,” he managed, gently pushing the lupine’s hands off his shoulders. “I—I’m not—at my best right now. You—your, uh, name?”

“<What? Saina, it’s me!>” the lupine said, elation crumbling fully into confusion. “Gomon! Dein bruder? <I know I look a bit…different, but—>”

“Brother?” Saigo said, his legs starting to wobble. “You’re my—we’re—I, I, I’m sorry, I can’t, I don’t—I didn’t—”

“What the shards is going on here?” Tsuki demanded, stepping between them. “Do you know him?”

“Saigo, can you hear me? Listen to me—”

“Saina!” the lupine said, skirting past Tsuki and sniffing at him worriedly. “You okay? What wrong? Who this?”

“Hey, back off!”

“—need you to breathe—”

Saigo’s knees buckled, the storm in his head thundering in his ears, the world tilting, spinning, dropping away in blurs of white and grey and red and green—

He felt his back hit the ground in a detached way, the voices all blurring together into a single hammer of noise, pounding on his eyeballs from behind again and again and again and again and—

—nothing.

^^^^

Saigo opened his eyes.

Empty

Not empty. Not quite.

White

His paws were cold.

Look

He looked down and couldn’t quite see them.

Up

He looked up, and now he could see the white—see the way it moved—white flakes on a white background landing on white ground—

It was snowing.

Hello

“Hello?” he called, turning in a circle. White in every direction, up and down, left and right.

His voice echoed back to him, resonating strangely in the white nothing.

Hello

“Is there anyone here?” he said.

Here

He squinted into the flurry. No one answered him.

Can

He raised his hand to his face to brush the snow away and realized he was holding something, fist clenched, cold metal pressing against his pads.

You

He opened his hand and looked down at a pair of round spectacles.

Hear

Where had these come from? Why did he have them? He’d seen them before, hadn’t he? When?

…He couldn’t quite remember.

Me

He unfolded the glasses and raised them to his face.

Hello.

He gasped, fumbling and dropping the glasses. He stooped and managed to snatch them out of the air just before they could disappear into the snow.

He’d seen something.

Here

Moving carefully, he raised the glasses to his face again and peered through them into the endless white.

Hello?

This time, Saigo didn’t drop the glasses. Instead, he stared through them at the shape in the storm, standing several feet away, facing him.

“Hello?” he said, squinting. “Who are you?”

The shape shifted, seeming to move closer without actually closing the distance.

Who are you?

Saigo lowered the glasses and wiped the snow off his face, then raised them again, trying to make out the features of the blurred figure.

“I—I’m not sure,” he said. “Do you—do you know where we are?”

Do you know?

“I don’t,” Saigo said. The wind howled in complete silence and flung more snow into his face. He brushed it off. “There was—there was someone. A lupine. Gomon. His name sounds…familiar.”

Gomon. Familiar.

“Yes. Gomon. He looks like…like I know him,” Saigo said, focusing on the shadow again. It had moved closer, but the distance between them was the same.

I know him.

“You know him? Who is he?” Saigo asked, taking a step toward the figure. It didn’t move. “He said he was my brother. Is that true?”

He—brother. True.

“He was? Is?”

He—is.

“Gomon…” Saigo muttered to himself, taking another step closer. The shadow wavered in the driving snow. “Name…I know his name. And the other name—what he called me—Saina. Is that—is that my name?”

His name—he called me—my name.

Saigo took another step forward, blinking against the wind.

“That’s not very helpful.”

Help.

“What? Help?”

Help.

“You need my help?”

Need—help.

Saigo took one more step. He was close now, close enough to touch, but the shadow remained a shadow, white shredding its form, blurring its face.

“I don’t know how much help I’ll be,” he said. “I can try, though. What do you need from me?”

I—know—how—help. You—need—me.

“You can help me? Or you need me to help you? Which is it?”

Help me. You need me.

The shadow held out a hand.

Saigo reached out and took it and—

—claws in his arm—

—wrenched his hand away, falling backward into the snow. He floundered for a moment before finding his paws and springing upright.

The figure was gone. The snowscape remained unchanged, white on muted white, endlessly flurrying.

Help me

The glasses. He’d dropped them.

Help me

He blinked and raised his hand. No, they were there, in his fist, clenched tight.

Help me

He unfolded them and lifted them to his eyes.

The figure stood exactly where it had been before, hand still outstretched.

Help me.

“What was that?” Saigo demanded. “I felt—I thought—what did you do?”

I felt—I thought—did you?

“I…that hurt,” Saigo said. Pinpricks of ghost pain ran up and down his arm. “Look, I don’t know where I am or what I’m doing here. Are you going to help or not?”

I know—where—am—what—doing here. Going to help.

The shadow’s hand remained outstretched, an anchor of intent in the wandering ocean of white.

Saigo stared at it, then up at the shadow’s face, searching for an eye to look for truth in.

“…What is it exactly you want me to do?” he asked.

What—you—want—to.

Saigo looked around at the endless snow on all sides.

He looked back at the figure, standing patiently with its hand outstretched.

He shivered.

“Will this help me?” he asked, raising his own hand tentatively.

Will—help.

Saigo took a deep breath, reached out, and—

claws in his arms scraping bone shredding flesh blood on the ground blood in the air blood in his mouth silence in the day screams in the night watching wandering woods last breath on the forest floor a howl in the dark

—pulled.

The shadow stepped forward.

Forest wall fire sword SHADOW iron axe claws ink paper blood snow MOON—

—sister?

^^^^

“So…you like…wood?”

“Like to carve.”

“Anything in particular, or…”

“Like fitting things together. When parts click. Furniture is good.”

“And, uh…you do…home repairs?”

“When needed. Prefer making.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“You?”

“Me what?”

“What you do? You, um…arbeit, beruf…job? Have job? Or apprentice?”

“Oh, uh, no, I’m just…spending some time away from home.”

“Yes? Where from?”

“That’s—hang on, he’s not twitching anymore.”

Saigo drifted slowly toward consciousness, bouncing off the occasional buoy of clarity. Here was creaking softness underneath him—here was the smell of wire-scrubbed iron, not quite disguising its companion scents of coal and soot—here was the radiating chill of cold glass—here were pawsteps on a thick rug—here was—

—a hand on his shoulder, gently rocking him awake.

“Sain—Saigo? Saigo, can hear me?”

“Gomon?” Saigo muttered, opening his eye and squinting groggily at blurry surroundings. There was…color, not white-on-white like he’d been expecting, although why he’d been expecting it escaped him at the moment. “Yeah, I hear you. What’s—”

“Saigo!”

A large patch of grey surged forward and enveloped him in a hug that smelled strongly of sawdust. The rest of Saigo’s question disappeared into a faceful of fur and cloth.

“All right, all right, back off,” Tsuki’s voice said curtly, and the grey pulled back to reveal her and the large grey lupine with Gomon’s voice, both of them still fuzzy around the edges. “Give him some space, will you? And you!”

She snapped her claws under Saigo’s nose.

“Come on, get up already,” she said impatiently, coming into focus. “You’ve got a heap of explaining to do.”

Saigo pushed himself upright, blinking awake while a distant part of him tried to remember what he’d just been dreaming about. But no, that wasn’t very important, because he’d come to Glavnan with Tsuki and—and Glavnan was where Gomon lived.

Glavnan.

Gomon’s home.

Gomon of Glavnan.

Saigo looked up at the lupine hovering anxiously at the side of the bed. Some of the mist cleared away.

“Gomon?” he said incredulously. “You’re—I mean, of course you’re here, Glavnan’s where you’re from, but—Sul’s light, what have you been eating? We were eye-level when you—when you left, and now—”

Gomon shifted bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yes, change a bit,” he said. “But! More interest in what happen to you! Not hear from you in more than two seasons, then show up, injure on face, different name. When change? Thought you want to keep Saina even after shifting.”

The mists pulled even further back, straining slightly.

Saina. Yes. That had been his—well, that had been her name at the time, before Gomon…left, though why he’d left was…unclear. There’d been…there’d been someone…a shadow in the doorway…

A thread snapped, painfully, and the mist closed over the memory.

Saigo winced and closed his eye, waiting for the throb to fully fade away before looking back at Gomon.

“Oh, yeah,” he said, mustering a smile. “I must h—I ended up changing it, uh, later. Sorry for not telling you. Things got…busy.”

Gomon frowned, his ears twitching, and a newly revealed patch of old instinct told Saigo his lie by omission had not gone unnoticed. Before either of them could address it, Tsuki cut in.

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” she said loudly. “Saigo, do you know this lupine or what?”

“I—yes, yes, I do,” Saigo said, doing his best to ignore another warning twinge from the mist. “This is Gomon of Glavnan. Gomon, Tsuki. He’s my brother, by home rather than blood. He…came back to Fjali a…a couple years ago.”

“Kotoba Gomon Rezchik, of Glavnan and ~~~~,” Gomon said firmly, offering a hand to Tsuki.

Saigo blinked.

“~~~~?” Tsuki repeated, shaking Gomon’s hand after a moment’s hesitation. “I…think I’ve heard that before.”

The mist buckled, straining to hold its shape as something surged up from underneath.

“Saigo tell you?” Gomon suggested.

Saigo dug his knuckles into his forehead, the inside of which felt like a boiling pot without a steam vent. His pads were sweating, and the floor between his paws was getting…blurry…

~~~~? What was ~~~~? It was—it was—he’d come from—trees—fog—body in the loam—a snarl in the dark—red leaves—smell of cinnamon—handful of wood shavings—coal and sweat—the flutter of paper—

“Saigo?”

Saigo looked up.

“Wh-what?” he said.

“Ask if you come alone,” Gomon repeated. “Not travel with anyone else? How meet Tsuki?”

“No, no, I didn’t—travel with anyone else,” Saigo said, squeezing the bridge of his nose. “I met—Tsuki and I were—we, we’re here on, on business, actually, um, passing through. There was—we were on our way out. Need a sled.”

“What? Not stay?” Gomon said, face falling. It must have, from the sound of his voice, because Saigo wasn’t—couldn’t—look. Couldn’t look. It hurt to look. “<What kind of business?>”

“<Just business,>” Saigo said, standing up abruptly and steadying himself against the wall. “<We’re trying to, trying, we’re going to another town. Sled. We wanted a sled. Do you have any?>”

“Yes, but—”

“Great, that’s great, we wanted to buy one,” Saigo said, staggering past him toward the door. His fur felt like it was trying to crawl away from his skin. “Where’s my—oh, thanks, my pack, thank you for bringing it in, do you think we could possibly—”

“Saigo, you okay?” Gomon asked, following him and gently taking the pack from Saigo’s shaking hands, which had been having trouble with the straps. “You act strange. <When you first got here—>”

“I’m fine, I’m fine, we just—we really ought to get going,” Saigo babbled, reaching for his pack while also trying not to look Gomon in the face. “Look, I’m sorry, but we’re kind of in a rush—”

“Hey.”

The word wasn’t a growl, a snarl, or a snap, but it nevertheless cut through Saigo’s protests like a straightsword through bamboo, bringing him to a stuttering halt.

Gomon set the pack down on the small dining table pushed up against one wall, then turned back to Saigo.

“You not okay,” he said in the same soft, iron-plated tone, which made it clear the lack of a question mark was no accident. “Please. Need tell me what wrong.”

“I—I—I—” Saigo said jerkily, glancing at Gomon out of the corner of his eye and immediately looking away. It was like staring at the sun after a week in a sealed iron box. “I—we need to—I was—”

Gomon stepped closer.

“Why up here all alone?” he pressed. “What happen at home? Why not tell me you come?”

“I don’t—I don’t—” Saigo stuttered, his eye tracing wild paths over the floor, walls, windows, ceiling, looking for a way out, but now there was Gomon, filling his vision, impossible to block out—

“That’s enough.”

Movement, and for a moment Saigo didn’t know what had changed, and then he realized Tsuki had stepped in front of him, and was facing Gomon, and she was saying something but he couldn’t hear the words because of all the noise in his head, and there were words piling up in his throat but they wouldn’t or couldn’t cross the threshold into vocality, and his stomach was twisting, and there was something wrong, wrong in his head, because there was Gomon, this was Gomon, he knew Gomon, and there was the shape of him, in his head, and fog where there should be other shapes, and the Gomon in front of him didn’t quite fit, and he had too many angles and the corners were torn and he had been pasted in and Saigo could see the wrong-space beneath and behind him and Tsuki was raising her voice and Gomon was speaking back and the fog was unraveling at the edges and it was loud, too loud—

“Everybody SHUT UP!”

The scream—and it was a scream, broken glass in the middle and twisted metal at either end—tore loose from Saigo’s throat, scattering the piled-up words on its way out.

The inside of Gomon’s home snapped back into focus, scrupulously clean except for the shards of shock now driven deep into the walls.

Breathing in short, shuddering bursts, Saigo looked at Tsuki, standing frozen with a hand upraised and a claw pointed in accusation. He followed the claw and found Gomon on the other end of it, who looked as if he’d opened the door to his closet and found a mile-long freefall into open ocean on the other side.

“Saigo, what—”

“Stop, please,” Saigo said, the mist in his head shuddering. “I—I can’t. Whatever it is you want from me, I don’t have it. Not now. I don’t—I can’t—it’s better if you’re not—not involved. We need to go.”

He reached past Gomon and dragged his pack off the table.

Please, he prayed silently, nodding jerkily at Tsuki and turning toward the door. Please. Please please please please—

“Saigo? <Can you please tell me what’s going on?>”

Saigo stopped with his hand on the door, the desperate smallness of Gomon’s voice as good as an icicle through his brain. In spite of every muscle in his body urging him to fling open the door and sprint away, he looked back.

“I’m sorry,” he said, focusing on the red bandana tied under Gomon’s neck. “It’s better—it’s better if you don’t know.”

Gomon shook his head.

“That is lie,” he said softly. “That is lie and you know it, Saigo. But if you not want to talk, fine. Won’t make you.”

Saigo’s shoulders dropped a fraction of an inch.

“Thank—”

“<I’ll come with you instead,>” Gomon said firmly.

Saigo looked fully into Gomon’s face in shock.

“What?!” he yelped. “No, no no no no, you can’t—”

“Can,” Gomon said, folding his arms. “You need sled, I have. Will pull, too. Come with you.”

“WHAT?!” Tsuki screeched, making Saigo flinch. “All right, jak, I’ve heard enough. You’ve got four seconds before I—”

“Hey, you’re not doing anything to him,” Saigo snapped at her. “And—Gomon, you absolutely cannot come with me. Bad, bad, bad idea.”

“Don’t care,” Gomon said stonily. “Am come. Will help out. Be quiet and out of way, too, if want. But still come.”

“But, but, but, you, you can’t!” Saigo protested. “I don’t, I don’t want you involved in any of, of this! You can’t!”

“<I don’t even know what ‘this’ is, Saigo, but if it has anything to do with you showing up out of nowhere after two seasons of silence with scars all over your face and all alone except for this strange vulpine, I’m not just going to wave goodbye!>” Gomon said, voice trembling. “<Not a chance. I’m coming with you and I’m helping you figure this out.>”

“I don’t want your help!”

The words were out of Saigo’s mouth before he could stop them, leaving the taste of green thorns on his tongue.

Gomon took a step back, his arms dropping.

“Okay, time out.”

Saigo and Gomon both looked at Tsuki. She pointed at Gomon.

“You stay here,” she commanded. “Don’t move a muscle, understand?”

She didn’t wait for him to reply, instead turning to Saigo.

“And you,” she said in a voice as calm as a barouya’s inhale, grabbing his arm. “Come with me.”

She pushed the door open and dragged Saigo out into the snowy clearing. The cold nipped at his ears, sharp and real, but he could barely feel it through the hot fog in his head.

Tsuki stopped some twenty paces from the door and turned him to face her.

“This might just be the most unhinged I’ve seen you, and that’s saying something,” she said. “Spill it.”

“Wh-what?” Saigo said.

“You heard me,” Tsuki said. “What’s the dish? You either know him and don’t want to or you don’t know him and you’re doing a piss-poor job of pretending you do.”

“No, no, I do know him, I do,” Saigo said, rubbing his eyes. “Gomon. He’s Gomon. I know that.”

“And who exactly is that?”

“He’s my—he’s my brother. Adopted. He lived with—with me for three years before he…left,” Saigo said. “He wasn’t—he hasn’t lied about anything. I do know him, I do…”

“Then why do you look like you’ve been on the verge of hurling for the last eight minutes?”

Saigo blinked at her, swaying gently.

“It’s all wrong,” he managed. “In my—in my head. The—the shape of him is wrong. I know him, but he’s—there’s—it’s hard to, to, to look. At him. In my head.”

Tsuki nodded carefully.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about so I’m just going to forget you said all that,” she said. “Did you mean what you said to him?”

“What?”

“Did you mean what you said to him,” Tsuki repeated sharply. “About not wanting help. Did you mean it?”

The fog in Saigo’s head was starting to settle, but he could still taste the prickle of words better left unsaid on his tongue. No doubt they would sit there for days, stinging him every time he opened his mouth.

“…I don’t know,” he said huskily. “I shouldn’t have said it either way. I don’t—I don’t know what it is I want.”

“Well, we could just make a break for it while he’s not looking,” Tsuki suggested. “That or I can knock him out and steal the sled.”

“No.”

Tsuki shrugged.

“Have it your way. HEY!” she yelled back at the house. “GET OUT HERE!”

“What? No, no no no!” Saigo hissed. “I didn’t—”

“Too late,” Tsuki said as the door swung open.

Gomon carefully shut the door behind him and plodded silently through the snow. He stopped a few feet away, fiddling with the bandana around his neck.

“Saigo?”

Saigo risked a look at Gomon’s face.

He knew that face. It had filled out somewhat since the last time he’d seen it, even though the memory itself was little more than a white stencil against pitch darkness. It wore a familiar expression—one he remembered he remembered he remembered she’d been determined never to be the cause of.

The mist stretched…

…and held.

“Am…sorry for harshness,” Gomon said, staring at the ground and shuffling his paws. “Just…confused. <I might not know what’s going on, but I—>”

“You can come.”

The words slipped through the brambles in Saigo’s mouth before he even realized they were on their way. And now they were out in the open air, and the only thing to do was follow them up with: “You said you had a sled?”

“Yes! Can pull!” Gomon barked, brightening up immediately. “<I just have to put up a sign that I’ll be gone for a while. I’ve traveled before, and I completed all my urgent orders today.>”

Saigo nodded stupidly at this, his brain just now starting to catch up with the decision his mouth had made.

“O-okay, that’s—that’s fine,” he managed, getting a grip on himself. “But, Gomon, just so you know, things are…complicated. I…I can’t really talk about…too much. Not right now. And if there’s…trouble, I need you to follow my instructions, all right?”

“Yes, yes, for certain!” Gomon said, nodding enthusiastically. He looked over at Tsuki. “Uh…you okay? With me?”

“We’ll see,” Tsuki said coolly.

Gomon shrugged, his tail wagging.

“Sound good to me,” he said. “Give moment. Will pack things, get sled.”

He trotted away, disappearing around the side of the house.

Saigo watched him go and ran a hand through his hair, blowing out a long breath.

“Shatter me…” he groaned. “Sul’s light, why did I say that?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Tsuki said, folding her arms. “I thought you said he was all ‘wrong in your head’ or something. You sure you want him dragged into all of your…‘trouble?’”

“Of course I don’t want him involved,” Saigo said. “I…I just need to get my head straight, and then I’ll…I’ll talk to him, before things get bad, convince him to go home. He’s just lending us a sled. It’ll end there.”

“Yeah, well, whatever happens, he’s your responsibility,” Tsuki said, looking up at the gently snowing sky. “At the very least, he better not slow us down.”

Chapter Text

Slumber 63, A.R. 372

“Gomon?”

Gomon looked over his shoulder, ears perked.

“Ja?” he asked, adjusting the straps of his harness. “Something wrong?”

“Could you maybe…slow down a bit?” Saigo panted, stumbling. “I mean, you’re not…going too fast or anything…but we’ve been…keeping on for a while now.”

“Oh, yes, sorry!” Gomon said, stopping immediately, his sled bumping up against the back of his knees. “Am use to travel on own. You okay?”

“Fine, fine, just need…a short break,” Saigo said, leaning up against a nearby tree. “How…are neither of you…tired?”

“Are you kidding?” Tsuki said, still stepping in place. “This is the first decent pace we’ve ever traveled at. Do you have any idea how slow you walk?”

“I’m pretty sure I walk…at a perfectly average pace!” Saigo objected breathlessly. “Besides…I’m a feline! I’m not meant for…long-distance. You sure neither of you have…etsu blood or something?”

“I’m not carrying any at the moment, no,” Tsuki said dryly. “Seriously though, there’s no way you don’t know why he’s outpacing you,” she added, gesturing at Gomon with her nose. “If you were building and delivering furniture all by yourself in a town where all the houses are at least a mile apart from each other you’d have some proper endurance too.”

“I knew I went wrong somewhere,” Saigo said, pulling himself up. “Okay. I think I’m…I think I’m ready to go. Sorry for the holdup.”

“Want to ride?” Gomon suggested, gesturing with a claw over his shoulder at the sled. “Plenty room, and you light.”

“No, no, I can keep up,” Saigo said, shaking his head. “I need to get used to moving through Fjali’s snow anyways. I’m already doing a lot better without carrying my pack, so, uh, thanks for that.”

“No problem,” Gomon said.

“How much more ground do you think we can cover before third cycle?” Tsuki asked eagerly as they started moving again. “We’ve already made good progress, haven’t we?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Saigo said, taking a couple extra-long strides to keep up with Gomon’s steady gait. “It’s hard to tell without any decent landmarks.”

“About…sixth of distance?” Gomon said thoughtfully. “Yes. About.”

“How do you know that?” Saigo asked.

“<I’ve gone this way before,>” Gomon said, shrugging. “<It’s not my first time to Tulvachev.>”

“Oh, really? What were you doing there?”

“Business!” Gomon said proudly, his tail thwacking against one of the straps connecting his harness to the sled. “Someone want nice desk. Long project, few weeks to make, then deliver. Detailed work.”

The fog in Saigo’s head shivered, disgorging a fragment of memory. Sawdust—carefully cleaned tools—the stark smell of lacquer—gentle breaths, dislodging slim curls of wood.

He blinked, and the sensations melted like fresh snow on warm stone, falling into the gaps where people should have been but weren’t. The fog throbbed briefly, then settled.

“That’s…impressive,” he managed. “Somebody, uh, recommended you, I’m guessing?”

“Yes. Big compliment,” Gomon said, nodding seriously. “Happen last season, after barely two years back! Very lucky. But yes, visit Tulvachev just once. Mean to ask, why go there? Is quite small town. Big ruin nearby, though.”

“Oh, that’s, uh, actually part of the reason we wanted to visit Tulvachev,” Saigo said. “The ruin, I mean. Did you see much of it while you were there?”

“Not really, no,” Gomon said. “Big wall. Not get too close. Lots of—lots of—<there were a lot of Searchers there. From what I saw, they’d been working on it for a long time.>”

“…Good to know,” Saigo said, his brief sprout of hope withering in the flash freeze of reality. “Did you happen to hear anything of the history around the ruin? Stories, rumors, speculation?”

“Uh…dangerous,” Gomon said. “Sorry, not hear much. Better to avoid. Why interest? <I know you’ve always been interested in pre-Shatter history, but is there something special about Tulvachev?>”

“I—we—that’s kind of what we’re trying to find out?”

“Wait, you do...uh, bericht, forschung…research! You do research?” Gomon asked urgently. “That why Tulvachev? Ruin?”

“Well, sort of—”

“Herzscrollen?!”

“Wh-what?”

“You herzscrollen!” Gomon repeated. “You…ah…Cert?”

“Cer—oh. No, no, I’m not,” Saigo said, shaking his head. “I mean, that would be great if this was an official study or something, but I’m…no, I’m not a member of the Scholarium.”

“Know you can be if you want to,” Gomon said confidently. “What hope to find in Tulvachev, then?”

“Oh, it’s just a, uh, personal project of a sort,” Saigo said. “Looking into…Insurgence history, that kind of thing. Thought this ruin might be…related to that.”

“Must be important,” Gomon said. “For you to leave home.”

“Y—yes,” Saigo said, rubbing his forehead. “Yes, it…it is.”

“So…how you two meet?” Gomon asked, looking over at Tsuki.

Saigo sent her an urgent look behind Gomon’s back. She replied with a slight eye-roll before returning her attention to the question at hand.

“He was getting held up by some real jakasses when I was passing by so I stepped in and helped him out,” she said. “After that I found out he was absolutely shit with directions and desperately in need of someone who knew how to get places, so I’m really just building up big tab of favors at this point.”

Gomon nodded wisely.

“Saigo is bad with directions,” he agreed. “Kind of you to help. Especially come all way to Fjali. Big distance.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t have anything else going on,” Tsuki said, the lie slipping past Gomon and pausing to drag a claw down Saigo’s back.

“No? Thank you anyway, then,” Gomon said. “Any trouble on way?”

Saigo and Tsuki exchanged another glance.

“No, not really,” Saigo said.

“Pretty quiet altogether,” Tsuki said.

“Peaceful.”

“Lots of walking.”

“Ja? Is good no trouble,” Gomon said. “Should not have any on way to Tulvachev, but is good to keep eyes out.”

“We’ll do that,” Saigo said.

^^^^

Saigo blew into his cupped hands, rubbing them together and staring blankly at the dark woods stretching out in front of him.

A quiet wind whistled somewhere behind him, making branches rattle and clack like old bones. The sturdy wall of the snow cave Gomon had dug out and packed down in a matter of minutes pressed against Saigo’s back, though he could barely feel the chill of it through his coat.

Gomon’s rumbling snores echoed out of the hole behind him, painfully familiar in a way that was far more painful than familiar.

“Hey.”

Saigo blinked and looked around to see Tsuki crawling out of the snow cave.

“What are you doing up?” he whispered. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“I could ask you the same,” she said, pulling her coat tighter around her and settling on the other side of the hole. “Normally you’re out like a hibernating whellum at this point.”

Saigo squinted at her.

“Do you watch me fall asleep on a regular basis, or…?” he asked, half-jokingly.

“I could put you out right now, if you like,” Tsuki said, raising a fist and waving it theatrically. “Seriously though, why are you up right now?”

“I’ll tell you if you tell me why you’re up,” Saigo said, grinning.

“Because you’re up, penhead, and it’s bothering me,” Tsuki snapped. “And in case you forgot, I hate the snow. Being surrounded by it on all sides is far from restful, believe it or not.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Saigo said, nodding. “You’ve got to admit it’s a lot better than our first couple nights here, though.”

“I didn’t say the cave wasn’t useful, I said I hated it,” Tsuki grunted. “Stop trying to change the subject and tell me why you’re still up, will you?”

Saigo shifted uncomfortably.

“Oh, you know…” he said, looking back at the forest. “Just having trouble falling asleep.”

“Would that ‘trouble’ have anything to do with the person sawing wood right now?” Tsuki asked, jerking her head at the entrance to the snow cave. “Honestly, that’s another reason I’m up. Has he always been that loud?”

—fitful thrashing, broken only by shuddering gasps and mournful howls and, for the first few weeks, piercing screams that stopped as abruptly as they started, starkly contrasted by silent, staring wakefulness, wordlessly following wherever he was led, and she got used to leading him by the hand as they—as they—as they—

“…Yes,” Saigo said, blinking away the serrated flash of clarity. “For different reasons, but…yes. And it’s not the noise keeping me up. I think you probably have an idea about what’s going on.”

Tsuki grinned without the slightest trace of humor.

“If you’re gonna make me guess…” she mused. “Maybe the fact every time Gomon says something you make a face like someone’s stuck a rusty nail in your ear?”

Saigo grimaced.

“Yeah, like that,” Tsuki said. “At the pace we’re going, you’re not going to have a whole lot of time to convince him to go home.”

“…Yeah.”

Somewhere in the distant forest, a barouya warbled.

Tsuki leaned forward.

“That is what you want, isn’t it?” she demanded quietly.

“Well, I—”

“Yun’s dandruff, you’re having second thoughts, aren’t you?!”

“What? No, no, I’m not!” Saigo whispered frantically, waving his hands. “I mean, yes I’m having seconds thoughts, but that’s all I’m having! I have no idea what I’m doing! I still can’t believe I invited him to come along in the first place!”

“But you are going to send him home?”

“No. I mean yes! No! I don’t know!” Saigo said. “I should send him home, I know I should, I need to, but every time I look at his face I, I, I can’t! It…it just feels all wrong.”

“So cover your eyes or something!” Tsuki snapped. “The last thing we need is deadweight, which you’re close enough to being on your own. At least tell him you’re probably one of the Vigil’s most-wanted if you think you’re going to have a hard time convincing him!”

“I don’t even know if that will actually help!” Saigo hissed. “I don’t—I don’t know anything about him!”

“I thought you said you remembered him!”

Saigo pressed his knuckles into his forehead in a futile effort to grind the pain away.

“I do, I do remember him,” he muttered. “But—but the shape’s all wrong. I know him. I know I know him. I know that. I remember him being there, I remember being there with him, even if I don’t remember where ‘there’ was, but—but—”

He wrestled for a half-suitable explanation and grabbed one out of desperation, pinning it down before it could escape.

“—but the, the feelings are all mixed up, all right?” he said. “I can—there’s—it’s like I’m holding a handful of strings and he’s holding the other end of even more strings and a bunch of them connect but there’s, there’s a massive knot between us, okay? I know we’re connected, I know it, I see it, but it’s like, it’s like taking a step forward just tangles the strings more and I’m worried something’s going to snap! Do you understand what I’m talking about?”

Tsuki stared at him, Gomon’s constant rip-sputter-snort filling the silence between them.

“…No!” she whispered incredulously after a few seconds. “Obviously no! What, the baffled silence didn’t clue you in?”

Saigo sighed, dragging his hands down his face.

“Look,” he said. “I don’t know how any of this works. The, the memories, the remembering, the pain and the weird dreams…listen, I have only the fuzziest idea of who I am. Or was. What ‘memory’ I have has more holes in it than a taxine family reunion. I know Gomon’s my brother, and I keep having these, these flashes of us, but I don’t remember where we were or who else was there or if there was someone else there! I found out today that my name used to be Saina and I don’t know why I changed it! Or if I changed it!”

Tsuki nodded slowly.

“Was the fact you shifted news to you too?” she asked.

“I—yeah, I guess,” Saigo said. “People do that all the time, though. It’s nothing like changing your name. But that’s not the point! The point is I don’t know the—the sharding rules for what’s going on with my head and my memory and who I know and what I don’t know and what I do!”

“Do you want to?”

“Of course I—”

He stopped short, the fog in his head swirling uneasily. He’d heard that endless emptiness driving snow blurred figure outstretched hand question before, a choice he’d made the choice he couldn’t back out now hadn’t he? Maybe worded differently, but he’d definitely answered it for…someone else…

“I…no, I do want to know,” he said, blinking away the sense of déjà vu. “I do. I did. I, I thought I did. I still do. I want to. I do want to know.”

 “You’re about to say ‘but’ again, aren’t you,” Tsuki said flatly.

“But—” Saigo glared at her, “—it’s not that simple.”

“Seems pretty straightforward to me,” Tsuki said, leaning back with her arms behind her head. “You’ve got someone who obviously knows you pretty well sleeping not eight feet away. Start asking those questions you have so many of, and if you’re worried about flipping out again I can always stand by and punch you in the head when you start getting weird about it.”

Saigo nodded seriously.

“Did you consider the possibility that repeated blunt force trauma to my brain might prove detrimental to several important aspects of my life?” he asked.

Tsuki appeared to give this some thought.

“I guess your brain has been useful a couple of times,” she said grudgingly.

“Thank you.”

“You’ve got to admit it’s the source of most of your problems, though,” Tsuki added.

This time it was Saigo’s turn to stare.

“Well, yeah,” he said. “That’s what I’ve been saying.”

Tsuki scrunched her face at him.

“What? Since when?” she said.

“Since this entire conversation!”

“No you haven’t!”

“What did you think we were talking about?”

“Well, I’m pretty sharding certain we started by talking about your rice-pudding spine when it came to the gravel-gurgler behind us, but then you were waxing poetic about taxines with balls of string and I stopped listening.”

“You were asking questions!”

“So? You ask questions and don’t listen to what I say all the time,” Tsuki said, with scathing accuracy.

“Oh come on, that’s—”

Saigo stopped short, less out of the realization he was about to say something he would regret and more out of the fact that a rather important background noise had ceased and he had no idea how long it hadn’t been there.

Moving with the care of a whellum through a sleeping pack of hondars, Saigo looked back at the entrance to the snow cave, where—

SNGGGH-GH-GH-ghghwoo

Saigo’s shoulders dropped, but he nevertheless waited for two more snores to ring out at regular intervals before he turned away from the hole.

“O-kay,” he whispered. “Uh…what were we talking about?”

Tsuki snorted.

“I don’t know about ‘we’ and ‘talking,’ but you were doing a lot of rambling,” she said. “If only for the sake of not having to listen anymore, here’s the end of it: you can either send Gomon home and forget about him OR you can introduce him to the deep end and deal with all your brain problems head-on.”

Saigo opened his mouth.

“I swear to Sul if you say ‘but’ again I’ll throw you up a tree and make you sleep there.”

Saigo closed his mouth.

“Glad we could get that sorted out,” Tsuki said. “Now go to sleep. And if you don’t figure out what you’re going to do about our tagalong by the time we get to Chet or whatever the shatter it's called, I’ll decide how to handle it.”

She crawled back into the snow cave, leaving Saigo alone in the web of shadows beneath the silver moon.

He stared up at it for a while, listening to its faint song in-between Gomon’s snores.

After some minutes of this, he turned and squirmed his way into the snow cave, carefully maneuvering himself into the gap between Gomon and the wall where he’d put his sleeping pad down. He curled up under his blanket, but didn’t close his eye right away, staring instead at the packed snow a few inches from his nose.

What did he do? What did he want?

He wanted to remember, didn’t he? But no, he wanted Gomon to go home…but he also wanted Gomon to stay, at least part of him did…but he didn’t want Gomon to know what was going on, did he? But, but he couldn’t tell him to leave, and he couldn’t lie forever, either.

It had been so simple when he’d first woken up in a freezing mountain pass, no direction but an initialed letter, no company but an unseen ghost. He’d wanted answers, he’d wanted truth, he’d wanted to know and know why, but now…

Why him? Why all this? Why did he want to remember and know and feel but why did it hurt so much to do any of those? Why had he known about Glavnan but not Gomon, why hadn’t he told Gomon to stay behind, why hadn’t he asked him who he was who they’d been why either of them had left and where they had left from?

Why had he changed his name, his sharding name?

Why?

No one answered.

Chapter Text

Slumber 65, A.R. 372

“I see it!”

Saigo squinted between the trees, bobbing his head in an effort to find an angle where he could catch his first glimpse of Tulvachev. Gomon had announced it several minutes earlier, but Saigo had yet to pick it out between grey sky and white snow and behind still more forest.

“I can’t see anything,” he said, shaking his head. “How close are we, exactly?”

“Mm…very?” Gomon suggested. “Should say, I see ruin, not town. Still reach town first, though.”

“Would you mind leading us in?” Saigo asked. “Neither of us have been here before, and if you happen to know of a bunkspace or something, that would be very helpful.”

“Yes!” Gomon said, wagging his tail. “Know a place!”

Saigo slowed his pace, waiting until Gomon had forged ahead before winding his scarf up around his face and pulling his cap down a little lower.

He became aware that someone was glaring hard at the back of his head. This did not come as a surprise, seeing as it had been happening at increasingly frequent intervals since yesterday afternoon.

He half-turned and looked at Tsuki, who held the glare for a second and then nodded pointedly at Gomon’s back.

“I’m working on it,” Saigo mouthed at her.

Tsuki implied via an exasperated eye-roll and a few graphic strangling motions that she had some doubts about this. She followed up with a wide-flung arm back the way they’d came to suggest he’d had literally all day yesterday to ‘work on it’ and was he actually trying.

Saigo grimaced in recognition of a well-articulated point. He had, in fact, spent all yesterday gathering the courage to talk to Gomon, hampered somewhat by a large hole opening up in the bottom of the tank every time he imagined starting an actual conversation. As a result, he’d been hovering at the one-quarter mark for about four cycles now.

“There!”

Saigo seized the opportunity to slink away from Tsuki’s glare and joined Gomon, who was pointing down the hill and through a gap in the tree line at the newly visible Tulvachev.

The town wasn’t much to look at. If Saigo had to guess, it had been constructed largely from the lumber cleared to make room for it. The buildings were tightly spaced, as opposed to Glavnan’s wandering sprawl, although both towns shared a clear disinterest in the idea of a clear boundary between civilization and wilderness. A number of skeletal towers of uncertain purpose rose above the buildings.

Yes, the town wasn’t much to look at, but that was only because what lay beyond it was more than enough to take Saigo’s breath away.

It was a maze. It was definitely a maze, but Saigo felt there should be some other word that acknowledged the sheer size of it. Even from their angle of descent, he could barely see the tops of a few interior corridors, jakknifing at odd angles and doubling back on each other.

The magnitude and complexity was staggering on its own, but there was one section of it that made Saigo shiver.

“It looks like someone sliced a piece of pie out of it,” Tsuki said, shading her eyes as she stared at the massive chunk of missing ruin. “Didn’t know the Seekers had it in them to smash straight through like that.”

“I…think that’s a lot older than the Seeker Division,” Saigo said, the town and ruin drifting in and out of sight as they descended the hill. “Most accounts of the origins of the Fourfront agree that the Soulspark’s first display of power as a Warden was breaking out of a Saisho, uh, prison.”

Tsuki stared at the maze for a while, then looked back at Saigo.

“You’re telling me one person did that?”

“One member of the Fourfront, yes,” Saigo said, nodding. “A Warden. That’s the kind of strength they had. They needed it, to do what they did.”

His eye drifted briefly to the sled, landing on a long, flat bundle. Speaking of Wardens…

“You’re sure this is the place, then?” Tsuki said.

“Pretty sure,” Saigo said, tearing his attention away from the idea of Hadvo’s worrying silence since meeting—reuniting with Gomon. “It matches up from what little I managed to find about the Soulspark’s origins, and we certainly don’t have any other leads.”

He glanced at Gomon only to find the lupine already staring at him, ears twitching.

“Something wrong?” Saigo said.

“Nothing,” Gomon said, turning forward again. “Come, we close.”

Several minutes of steady walking brought Tulvachev into full view, along with the appearance of a road they’d apparently been following the whole time.

“What are those towers for, do you think?” Saigo asked, peering up at the structures in question.

They had a no-nonsense, utilitarian look to them, nothing more than elevated platforms with lashed canvas roofs. There were people stationed at the top, the few Saigo could see focusing all their attention on the massive maze beyond town.

“Watching?” Gomon suggested. “Don’t know, really. Here last time.”

“They look like they’d topple if you gave them one good kick,” Tsuki observed.

“Let’s not test that, please,” Saigo said, shifting his scarf up higher as they approached the edge of town. “Gomon, you said you know somewhere we could take a break and, uh…plan our stay?”

“Yes. Quiet place. Small.”

“Sounds good to me. Where…”

Saigo’s question faded as they entered the town proper. Now that they were actually seeing the people who lived there, certain things were becoming apparent—especially about the people who lived there.

Quite a number of them wore red-and-black armbands. As a matter of fact, most of them wore red-and-black armbands, all marked with the familiar emblem of a lightning-split tower behind a crossed sword and hammer.

A sense of dread crept up Saigo’s back and settled on his shoulders before reaching its hands through the back of his skull and assembling a number of facts in a businesslike way.

First and foremost, this was a Seeker Division town. Of course it was, built within spitting distance of an enormously dangerous and also plain enormous ruin. The town had the slapdash look of something that had been thrown together twenty years ago with the expectation of being dismantled in four.

Second, he’d had a rather…public encounter with a Seeker Division team no more than two and a half weeks ago after being discovered by the same team in an uncleared ruin two weeks before that. The fact that his public encounter with them also coincided with his Harbor break-in probably didn’t help matters.

Third…no one seemed to be paying attention to them…at all?

No second glances. No whispers. No peeks over the shoulder. No suggestion he’d been recognized or even acknowledged.

Everyone just looked…busy.

Right. Right, of course. He was just being paranoid, that was all. The Seeker Division was probably still on the lookout for him, but maybe they hadn’t spread it all the way to Fjali. Or maybe they’d been made to stand down by the Vigil. That seemed…plausible, though he couldn’t say for sure why he thought it ought to be.

If Hadvo were here, he would have called Saigo out and told him to act natural. Right. Yeah. They wouldn’t be staying long anyways. Long enough to figure out how to get into the ruin and take a look around without alerting anyone.

…and also how to tell Gomon he needed to go home.

Yes. Yes, he needed to do that. Gomon couldn’t stay. Not here. Not with all these Seekers around. Not with a ruin looming on the horizon.

Not with…not with Saigo.

Gomon had been expecting Saina, not Saigo. He deserved Saina, someone he knew, not a stranger with a beat-in face who couldn’t stand to look directly at him.

Saigo was a hollow shell, a ragged replacement for someone who might as well have died two seasons ago. Saina didn’t have the Seeker Division and Vigil after them. Saina hadn’t made a mess in the Krovkin’s forest or blundered into Gomon’s home and treated him with confusion and hostility.

No, Saigo had done that. And it was Saigo’s responsibility to send him home.

Gomon led the way down streets of hard-packed snow, past multi-story houses that looked like they’d been stacked by a shaky-handed simian. What few people were out and about moved in a hurry, and several buildings seemed to be undergoing heavy repairs.

“…It looks pretty busy right now,” Saigo commented. “Wonder what all the hustle’s about.”

“Mmmm…don’t know,” Gomon said. “Much quieter last time. People smell nervous. Ah, here. Schlafplatz, yes?”

The bunkhouse was quite small—a good first sign—and tucked slightly back from the street, with smudged windows on the second floor all at slightly different heights and distances from each other, as if they’d been added as an afterthought.

A crooked sign hung above the splintery door.

Günstige zimmer zu vermieten!!

“‘Cheap rooms for rent,’” Saigo translated. “Sounds about right. What about our stuff? I’m going to need my pack.”

“Yes, we bring inside,” Gomon said, his harness already off as he loosened the straps holding their equipment down.

“Do they have a place for your sled?”

“Yes, inside,” Gomon said, handing Saigo’s pack and the wrapped sword up to him. “Big rooms.”

Tsuki pulled on her own bag while Gomon simply heaved the sled onto his back, his satchel dangling from his shoulder.

Saigo led the way in and was greeted by a tiny room, most of which was taken up by the bottom of a staircase, a counter, and a doorway, from left to right. The counter was empty.

“Uh…” Saigo started to say. Before he could finish his questioning glance over his shoulder, Gomon raised a paw and stamped heavily on the floor, making the whole room shudder.

“Neh!” something grunted from behind the counter. A few seconds later, a flat, squinty, black-and-white-furred head jerked into view, adjusting a pair of spectacles.

“Hnah?” the taxine grunted, blinking in Saigo’s direction. “<Room or pad?>”

“<How much for each?>” Saigo asked.

“<Pad is a hatch per person, room’s six for a night but you don’t have to share,>” the taxine said, yawning. “<What’ll it be?”>

“<We’ll take a room,>” Saigo said, digging into his money pouch and sliding a copper tracing and two hatchings across the counter. The taxine snatched them up much faster than his sleepy attitude would have suggested, replacing the coins with a dull key and jerking a blunt claw at the stairs.

“<Second room on the left,>” he grumbled, disappearing below the counter. “<Keep the noise down.>”

“<As you say, ell,>” Saigo said, picking up the key and leading the way up the stairs. They creaked underpaw, leveling out into a narrow hallway.

A few seconds later, the key squeaked in the lock—

—kchk—

—and Saigo pushed open the second door on the left. It squealed on rusty hinges, opening into a reasonably sized room with a plain sleeping mat occupying each corner.

“Did they even bother insulating this place?” Tsuki grumbled, tossing her bag onto one of the sleeping pads. “I think some ice would actually make it warmer in here.”

“Blankets,” Gomon offered, pointing at a stack of scratchy-looking material by the door.

Tsuki looked at them.

“I think I’d rather freeze,” she said. “Those probably don’t even unfold.”

“I don’t think fleas can survive in this temperature, but I’d prefer not risk it anyways,” Saigo said, wandering over to his own corner and setting down his pack and the sword. “Now that we’re situated, though, we should probably…figure some stuff out.”

“Yes, what looking for here?” Gomon asked, leaning his sled against the wall. “Interest in ruin, yes? <Is there any way I can help?>”

“Yeah, what are we here for, Saigo?” Tsuki asked, planting her hands on her hips. “And actually, I already know what you’re looking for, so I think I’ll head out and poke around for anything useful while you fill him in on what happens next. How does that sound?”

“Well, I—” Saigo said.

“Great, glad we’re in agreement,” Tsuki said, clapping her hands. “I’ll be back later.”

She left the room, stopping just beyond the threshold to give Saigo a meaningful glare before slamming the door behind her.

Saigo winced. That had almost certainly been his final warning, and if he’d interpreted Tsuki’s look correctly, he needed to sort things out before she got back, or else…

…well, just ‘or else,’ and he wasn’t keen on seeing how ‘else’ played out.

“Sul’s eyes, please don’t let her get into trouble,” he muttered to himself. He looked over at Gomon, who was watching him carefully, ears twitching.

This was the moment. He’d resolved himself—Gomon had to go home, and there was nothing that would change his mind.

“So…” Saigo said.

“You want me to go home,” Gomon said.

Saigo opened and closed his mouth a couple times.

“…It’s that obvious?” he eventually said.

Gomon nodded.

“<You’ve never been very subtle,>” he said, crossing his legs and resting his hands on his knees. “<I’m still surprised you let me come along in the first place. You’ve been in pain ever since Glavnan.>”

Saigo gaped at him again.

“I—” he said weakly. “Well, I mean—”

“<When you arrived, you weren’t expecting to see me,>” Gomon continued. “<It wasn’t just that you didn’t recognize me because of how long it had been since we last saw each other. You didn’t know who I was. And you reacted strangely when I talked about home. Our home. Ch—>”

“Stop, please.”

Saigo dragged a hand down his face, stopping halfway and rubbing his eyes. The fog in his head was starting to swirl again.

“…How long have you known?” he asked.

“Since first day,” Gomon said. “Lots of time to think while walking. Plus you not want to talk, which mean something very wrong.”

“So I spent all yesterday and today worrying about how and what and if to tell you and you had it figured out this entire time?”

Gomon spread his hands.

“Don’t know everything,” he said. “Still confused. What doing here? Why want me gone? Why change name? What happen last two seasons? Why travel with Tsuki? Can tell you lying about things. Please, Saigo. Talk to me.”

Talk to me talk to me you can talk to me you can talk we can talk talk to me

“I—I can’t,” Saigo said, avoiding looking at Gomon’s face. “I really can’t. It’s—there’s—it would be better if you just went home.”

“Lying again,” Gomon said flatly. “Not better. Easier. If you won’t tell me, tell me why you won’t tell me.”

“And then will you go home?” Saigo asked.

“No.”

“Yun’s wind, have you always been this stubborn?”

“Learn from you. This my first time. Is it working?”

Saigo might have laughed if not for the crippling seriousness in Gomon’s voice.

“<Please, Saigo,>” Gomon said. “<Tell me what’s going on.>”

Saigo risked a look at Gomon’s face.

Tell me can you tell me can you please tell me what’s going on please please please tell me you can you tell me can you please tell me what’s going on?

Saigo averted his eye. No. No. No. No. He couldn’t tell Gomon. Couldn’t. Wrong. He had a home. Far away from this. Didn’t deserve this. It was—it was—better—easier—for him to—stay away. Where the—threads of the fog—wouldn’t—snap, and let the—shapes—come surging out—too much, too much, it was all too much—

“Saigo.”

Saigo looked up and met Gomon’s eyes for the first time.

They were on the other side of the room, and because of the thickness of his fur they were always a little bit difficult to see and he moved them all the time, bouncing from floor to ceiling to wall to window because he looked with his ears and he’d always been that way, hadn’t he, it hurt him to look her in the eyes and so Saina never forced it because that’s how he was but now, now, now, Saigo looked him in the eye for one brief second—

“I’m here to help,” Gomon said firmly.

Sharp sunlight and dark woods and long nights and slow days and gentle words and hushed whispers and hot soup and frozen soil and waiting and watching and teaching and speaking and learning and listening and—

“I’m wanted by the Vigil,” Saigo said.

His breath misted in the cold, dusty air.

Gomon nodded silently, his eyes wandering elsewhere while his ears remained riveted to Saigo’s face.

“The Seeker Division is after me, too,” Saigo said. “I don’t know what they want from me. The Vigil, I mean. They’ve captured me before and it was actually Tsuki who broke me out of one of their high-security cells but they wouldn’t tell me anything about why the C—about why they’ve been chasing me. The Seeker Division is after me because I’ve been, um, stealing from ruins and selling things through the Trade.”

Gomon nodded again, slower this time.

“And I—I don’t remember anything beyond about twelve weeks ago, when I woke up in a mountain pass without any idea who I was or where I was or what I was doing, but I had this letter from someone that was asking me to look for something they’d left hidden and it’s turned out to be this whole ancient path laid out by the Starseer with clues leading to each of the Fourfront and I broke into the sharding Harbor and then I found the Krovkin and I spoke to the ash-memory of the Stoneblood, which the Chief didn’t like very much but there wasn’t any other way of doing it and—”

“Okay, maybe slow down,” Gomon suggested.

Saigo nodded unsteadily and sniffed, wiping away trickling tears with his sleeve.

Part of him wanted to ask…no, that was the thing. Part of him wanted to ask something, some kind of ‘why’ or ‘how’ or ‘what gives,’ either to Gomon or himself, but the rest of him already knew the answers and there was no point in asking.

This was Gomon, and he was here, and he was Gomon, and he wanted to help, and Saigo knew Gomon, and Gomon was who he was and he was here to help Saigo, not Saina.

“Sor—rry,” Saigo said, his voice breaking around half-swallowed sobs. “I—when I saw you—I didn’t re—emember, and there was this pain and when I woke up I, I knew who you were but the—ere were all these ho—oles in my head and you didn’t really fi—it and I think there were other people but it hurts to tr—ry to think about—about—about—”

He lost the rest of his words to shuddering gulps of air as Gomon crossed the room to sit next to him and placed a comforting hand on his back.

It took a few minutes for the hiccups to subside, during which they sat in quasi-silence, simply being there at the same time.

“You okay?” Gomon eventually asked.

“Ha, no,” Saigo said huskily, wiping his streaming eyes again. The stitches in the lid of his right eye stung, creaking. “Not by a long shot. I can’t remember the last time I was okay. But I think…I think I’m doing better.”

Gomon nodded, weighing another question and deciding to pitch it.

“So…you say you…forget?” he said hesitantly.

“…Yeah,” Saigo said, leaning back against the wall and stretching his paws out in front of him. “I can…I remember a lot of our time together, but not much else. No one else. I can’t even remember why you left in the first place.”

Gomon considered this in silence for several seconds.

“…Want to remember?” he asked tentatively, an odd harmonic present in his voice that Saigo couldn’t quite read.

“Eventually, yes,” Saigo said, disregarding it for now. “When…when I’m up for it. Right now isn’t, um, a great time for it. So if you’d be willing to maybe, uh…”

“Won’t talk about home unless you want,” Gomon said.

Saigo nodded gratefully, feeling suddenly and profoundly exhausted, though this was superseded by a swirl of unease in his chest at a particular word Gomon had just said.

“Speaking of home…” he said slowly. “Um…it seemed like everyone in Glavnan thought very highly of you. You’ve been doing well there?”

Gomon shrugged.

“Yes,” he said simply. “Much work, but good.”

“That’s…good,” Saigo said. “How long is it okay for you to be gone? I know you mentioned you’d finished most of your big orders, but it didn’t seem like Glavnan had any other carpenters…?”

Gomon shrugged again.

“Have stay away long time before,” he said. “Town is fine. People help each other.”

Saigo gave up on subtlety.

“Gomon, you should go home,” he said. “It’s not safe for you here and you’ve got a good life back in Glavnan.”

Gomon frowned at him.

“Not going back,” he said. “<We already talked about this. I’m staying until you have things figured out. Besides, you still need to explain all this Fourfront stuff to me. I only caught about half of what you were saying.>”

“All that can wait! Didn’t you hear me say how I’m wanted by the Vigil?” Saigo said urgently. “You know, towers and magic and white tabards? They caught me once before and it certainly wasn't to notify me about my anchor operation license expiring!”

Gomon blinked at him.

“You have anchor now?” he asked.

“No! Well—” Saigo hesitated for half a second, the stitches over his right eye itching. “Kind of yes, actually, but I don’t know what it—no, we’re not talking about this! It was a figure of speech, Gomon. The Vigil and Seekers are after me for a lot of crimes, all right, and me and Tsuki have ways of getting away from them but you’re…well, you’re a carpenter. That’s not exactly a profession that excels in evading law enforcement.”

“Not leaving,” Gomon said stonily, folding his arms. “Don’t care if dangerous. Staying with you.”

“Gomon, I’m not talking about a, a skinned knee here!” Saigo said, getting up and pacing in front of him. “I broke into the sharding Harbor, all right? That’s second-degree shardcage service at least! And that’s not even accounting for everything else I’ve done, public or otherwise! I’ve as good as spat in Central’s face on a number of occasions and I seriously doubt they’re going to be lenient with anyone associated with me.”

“Okay, but—”

Gomon stopped suddenly, his ears swiveling toward the window.

Saigo followed suit, catching the rising cacophony of sounds a moment later: a distant and foreboding creak, voices raised in panic and instruction, and then the crash of wood and clatter of stone, all coming from the center of town.

Saigo tried to remember exactly how long it had been since Tsuki left the room. Eight minutes? Sixteen?

No, no, he couldn’t think like that. She had her disappearing thing. How likely was it that whatever she was doing got out of hand and she hauled off and hit somebody and things escalated to the point that things started breaking?

“…Shit,” he mumbled to himself, patting himself down quickly to check that he was wearing his spell vest.

“Stay here,” he said, tossing Gomon the key to the room. He exited via the door and heard the lock click a few seconds later as he pattered down the stairs.

The taxine behind the counter hadn’t gotten up, though Saigo could hear a string of muttered curses coming from underneath the desk. He threw open the door and darted out into the street, staring toward the source of the commotion.

One of the towers was already more than halfway through the act of collapsing in on itself, beams tumbling into the rising cloud of dust and snow. The shouts were clearer and louder than before, and as Saigo watched, he saw streaks of rippling light and writhing green burst through the air.

Spells.

Well, shards.

This was going to be exactly what he thought it was, wasn’t it?