Chapter 331: A Worthy Foe

Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!

Toren Daen

In my previous life, some bastard named Murphy had named a law. A really, really irritating law that plagued my life at every turn.

I'd maneuvered the conversation with this dragon where it needed to go, but this risked everything. At least the rising mana had drawn away Sarvash's attention. He spared me a single glance, huffed out of his nose, then started to approach the altercation.

I rose to my feet, then sped past Sarvash. The dragon's eyes lingered on my back, judging.

"To accuse this fair woman of deception with no proof? There is no greater way to dishonor another," Chul said, valiant as ever. He towered over the phoenix woman and her few avian companions. "Answer for yourself."

As I got closer, I got a better view of the hamadryad. They were bulky—maybe as much as Chul, with a bit more fat. He was less a bodybuilder and more a blacksmith, a physique that was divine in its own right. He wore a green tunic that left his tattooed arms exposed, revealing a spiraling network of green ink that vaguely resembled the concentric circles at the center of a tree. The energy radiating from each line pressed against my temples in a way I hadn't experienced before. Not like a branding iron, or an express pulse of power; more like a sense of age. The way staring up at a massive oak was a statement of the ancients on its own.

"Lady Naesia only needs to reveal her hand to me," the hamadryad asserted, his fists digging into the table as he glared at the phoenix woman's cards. "The hand she has cannot be logical. I have counted the cards, and something does not add up."

"So this is how you lose, Lord Nerium?" the firebrand woman scoffed. She kept her card hand down, unwilling to acquiesce. Though she concealed it well, I could sense that she was intimidated by the bulky hamadryad's anger—and maybe a little afraid. Not of the hamadryad… Perhaps of the repercussions? "Look at all you stand to lose! It is clear that you cannot accept the facts. I have played legitimately. And counting cards? You accuse me of cheating, and admit to it yourself."

Beside the young asura, the other phoenixes chirped their own agreement, siding with who I was increasingly certain was some lady of a noble clan.

"Counting cards is not cheating. I only use what is available to me within the rules," the hamadryad insisted. "Reveal your hand. Or will you hide behind your bodyguard?"

"And give away my plays?" the woman countered easily, the dragons closing in as they prepared to break up the fight. The music had stopped and the sylphs were darting about, some dipping into the stones and others gathering around for the drama. "You mistake me."

I sensed a trap had been laid, but it was hard to sift through the emotions rising all around. But Nerium's utter confidence and Naesia's fluttering fear made me gravitate toward one side.

The woman was cheating, wasn't she? I thought, narrowing my eyes at the cards she kept clutched in talons not-yet sharp. And now she's caught. But if she reveals that her current hand is impossible, she shames herself before her clan.

The hamadryad let out an angry sigh, then crossed his arms. He glanced around, seeming to notice the commotion for the first time. He was about to say something—I thought to offer a compromise—when Chul plopped down heavily in front of the table, eyes still alight.

His challenging stare pulled Nerium back to attention, and some unspoken communication sparked between the two like a thunderstorm. The atmosphere of the entire confrontation shifted. Still charged, still titanic. But something else was injected into the mix, then and there.

Chul, what are you doing? I thought, sweat threatening to bead along my fists, sensing how everything balanced on the edge of a knife. Did I trust him? Did I put my faith in what he was about to do?

"I am most sorry, Lady Naesia, but allow me to settle this on your behalf," the half-phoenix said into the silence, never breaking eye contact with Nerium. "We shall settle this like men. I will not fail."

The smoke-haired phoenix actually considered this for a few moments, noting the rising tension between Nerium and Chul with the skill of a learned politician.

She saw a way out of her predicament.

"And if you lose whatever contest that this is, I lose the game?" she asked, orange eyes calculating. "If you win the contest, I win this game, take the spoils I've rightfully earned?"

The dragons watched from the sidelines, ready to intervene, but sensing the axis on which this conflict rested.

"That is fair in my mind," Chul said, never looking away from the hamadryad. They were speaking in a language I couldn't understand, something in the way they stared at each other.

"Fair," Nerium muttered, a smirk splitting his face. He leaned forward. "I'll bite."

"Very well," Naesia said slowly, sensing her only way to escape the pit she'd fallen into. "Though you know that, whatever victory occurs here, we remain unconnected. Clan Avignis owes no favors. Is that understood?"

"I fight not for favor, only justice," Chul replied, the entire tent left dumbfounded. He raised his arm slowly, the focus of a dozen asura following it, like a black hole demanding all perception.

Then he set his elbow on the table, his massive bicep flexing. And in perfect unison, as if under the effect of some magical spell, Nerium's titanic arm mirrored his.

"Holy shit," I muttered under my breath, finally putting two and two together. I'd been worried that a fight was about to break out, that we'd lose our cover as quickly as we'd gained it. But as the two beefy men clasped hands, readying for an arm wrestle, I felt a bit of my soul leave my body.

"You will lose this, Speaker of Lies," Chul boasted, a grin as wide and true as the River Sehz splitting his face. "I have trained every day of my life."

The ink on the ebony hamadryad's muscle seemed to shine as his grip tightened. He chuckled, the sound so similar to Chul's own bellowing laugh. "You think that just because you work the forges, you are the only one with strength."

Both men's colossal biceps flexed, a current of wind radiating out from where they joined. It sent playing cards flying, pushing away a few of the asura lingering too close. The ambient mana began to churn around the two's clasped hands like a miniature hurricane, pillows flying everywhere.

Sylphs squeaked, ducking for cover in their vents. The phoenix retinue backed away slowly, most of them sheltering behind Naesia as she squinted past the vortex of power. The dragons—especially the silver twins—sheltered a few of the weaker men and women as they scrambled away from ground zero. The leviathan who'd been playing music scampered frantically for a place of safety, realizing she'd been too far away from most.

Her coral-pink eyes found me, standing stoically and unperturbed, my clothes whipping in the wind and rising mana barely a few feet away. And like a hare bolting from a fox, she darted to me, cowering behind my back and sheltering in my aura.

"By Aquinas' bones," she cursed, crouching within what protection I offered. She gripped my pant leg with one hand like a sailor at the mast, struggling against the raging storm. In the other, she clung to her bone-crafted lyre as if it were the last thing in the world. "This is truly unfortunate. Truly sad, not good at all. Not good."

"That is an understatement," I replied, only half aware as I focused on the interaction around the game board, the tent whipping about like a bull demanding to be unleashed from the tether. This was either the dumbest thing I'd ever witnessed or the most incredible. "Hold on. It's going to get worse."

The leviathan offered another strange curse and gripped my leg tighter. I did what I could to afford the poor woman protection from the sweltering auras. She was very clearly not a fighter.

And then the duel began.

Immediately, the two colossal asura were nearly evenly matched. Muscles bulging, mana pumping, and heartbeats pounding in my ears. They strained against each other, little eddies of dirt and stone rising into the air.

"Ahh," Chul grunted, sweat streaming down his face. "A worthy foe! What is your regimen to obtain such a worthy form?"

Nerium's grin was a perfect mirror of Chul's, sweat already burning at the center of the storm. His veins of green lifeforce flowed through his body in a gentle river, flowing unlike anything I'd seen before. His heart was not his nexus of energy, not like it was for all others. Instead, his heartfire seemed constant. A wide river whose flow never faltered.

"You would not match me," he boasted, his voice low as the ancient, groaning timber of the Clarwood Forest. "A hundred manaless presses with an ironwood oak. Two hundred squats with the greatest boulder I can find. Three hundred manaless curls with the same."

And, to my dismay, Nerium's arm pushed forward, slowly forcing Chul's forearm closer to the table. More and more it turned, the great phoenix faltering before the unwavering oak. My heartrate spiked, my pulse in my ears as I stared intently at the exchange, my fists clenched.

The crowd watched with rapt attention. Dragon, phoenix, sylph, leviathan, pantheon… None could look away. It… It was amazing.

Come on, Chul, I thought, my fists clenched at my sides. You can do this, you great idiot!

Chul laughed appreciatively. "Amazing, friend!" he complimented genuinely, alive in the fire of his muscles. "But I am mighty on my own."

The phoenix's heart thundered, his mana streaming along his channels. And though Nerium seemed inexorable as nature itself, was it not in the nature of the hawk to soar above even the trees? The hamadryad's advance halted.

"A thousand manaless, one-armed, one-fingered handstand pushups!" he boomed, rivets tearing in the ground around him with the press of power. His arm began to rise. "A thousand manaless pistol squats!"

As I watched Lady Dawn's son slowly surpass his foe, I remembered the hours he put into every morning with his routine, always working to improve himself. Always striving for a better him. Nerium couldn't match him. Couldn't match that fire. There were none who could.

They passed the midpoint once again, and kept going. "A thousand manaless pullups, a thousand manaless situps!"

The young asura was going to win. Though his euphoric face was pinched with rising exhaustion, though he was cycling more and more and more mana into his arm, veins bulging and ground straining—he was winning. My heart beat in tune with Chul's as I found myself absorbed, my attention rapt on the exchange. I barely remembered to divert my lifeforce from my hair, keeping it ashen and my runes hidden as the minutes ticked by.

Connected as I'd been to Chul during our imprisonment, I'd sensed that fire of his as he'd pushed forward every day. When I stumbled, I fell to the ground, and stayed there. I wallowed in the ashes until I found the will to rise again. But Chul? He was a shark, always swimming. Always moving.

And this foolish hamadryad thought he could beat that?

The back of Nerium's arm neared the table, the burly man straining visibly, green-tinted sweat beading all over his dark skin. It was almost done… So close! I could sense the crowd behind me watching with anticipation, ready to shout and cheer, enraptured as I was.

But then, through the haze of my attention, I remembered something. Something I'd almost forgotten.

"A brilliant routine," the hamadryad applauded through clenched teeth, still confident. His corded, mossy hair swayed in front of his face. "But strength is meaningless if it cannot be maintained. Without… Without fuel, it will burn away! Useless!"

Chul's mana crescendoed… and then began to flag, faltering beneath the constant flow. He let out a ragged breath as Nerium's arm pushed his back, the duel reversing once more. Shouts of dismay rose from the crowd, but I couldn't hear them.

Damnit, no! I thought, suddenly angry as I watched Chul's chances slip away. If it weren't for his crippled mana core, he would've won! The burly phoenix was gasping, his eyes unsteady as they drifted about his clasped hands.

"It was a valiant effort, titan," Nerium declared, assured in his victory as he felt Chul's strength lessen more and more as the minutes ticked by. "But I am stronger."

Chul's heart never gave up. Even as his mana core gave in, his heart never did. It raged in his chest, his lifeforce churning like exploding gasoline. His bloodright flowed across every inch of him, crying out in defiance.

The half-phoenix's eyes seemed to focus for a moment. I wasn't sure anything existed for him in that split instant but the engine-roar in his head, but I… sensed it.

The back of Chul's hand approached the table, his defeat inevitable, ensured by the weakness of his mana core.

Paradoxically, my own heartbeat slowed, the raging flow in my ears quieting as the torrential wind tore through the ground, scarring the stones. A smile rose on my face as I felt something in the phoenix's heart align. Clinging to my legs, the leviathan woman had never stopped cursing.

Everyone's path of insight is unique, I thought, sensing as Chul's lifeforce sank into his muscles like molten honey dripping through the cracks, saturating his muscles. Everyone has a different path forward with aether. And it seems that he's found the start of his own.

The aether that clung to the phoenix's muscles was more potent than mana could ever be. His orange-purple flow of fire churned with his mana, like a support that strengthened and enhanced all on its own. Something planted back in the depths of the acclorite prisons finally reached fruition.

"No," Chul muttered, Nerium's progress suddenly frozen. "Yesterday. The day before. Perhaps you would have had victory, Worthy Foe. But not today!"

Nerium's face shifted from surety, to confusion, then to awestruck surprise as Chul roared, heaving his arm with meteoric speed. In a split instant, the near-certain outcome of winner and loser had reversed again, Nerium's arm burning through the atmosphere.

Then the back of his forearm slammed into the table, shattering through it and into the stones below. The impact opened a crater beneath the two, the force finally ripping the tent from its moorings and sending it flying into the sky like a rippling flag of victory.

The asura were silent for a moment, still enraptured by the goofily wonderful interplay, all eyes on where Nerium's arm had been cratered into the stones. Nerium hesitantly pulled it from the stones, his fingers clearly mashed and shattered from the absurd strength the burly phoenix possessed.

Chul heaved for breath, staring at his hand as if it were foreign, lifeforce strengthening his asuran physique beyond any reasonable point. The usage of his technique slowly simmered away, even as the half-phoenix still struggled to comprehend what had happened.

Then he looked up at Nerium's mashed limb, and his flushed face suddenly became the color of sylphan hair. "Friend, I am most sorry!" he blustered. "It was never my intention to—"

"A victor!" Nerium interrupted, grabbing Chul's arm with his unmashed hand and holding it high. "We have a victor! Well-fought, titan!"

The phoenixes with Naesia belatedly remembered to cheer. A few of the sylphs flitted about, laughing and whooping at the adrenaline rush. Only the dragons stayed back. The silverine twins radiated clear appreciation, nodding slowly at a worthy warrior, but Sarvash watched with quizzical frowns.

That sobered me. Even as these people celebrated the stupidly fun event they'd just witnessed, I remembered where we were. What the stakes were.

I gently separated from the leviathan at my feet, before sparing her a glance. She returned it, pale. "Are you well?" I asked carefully.

"Well, well, well," she said quickly, trembling a bit from the aftershocks. Her aqua-colored hair clung to her face. She held her lyre close, almost like a doll. Then she looked up at me, her eyes unfocused and scattered. "You, are you well? Surely you are."

My brow rose as I stared down at the asura, still kneeling at my feet. For the first time, I sensed how… scattered her intent was. It reminded me a bit of Elder Rahdeas'. And the way her eyes peered made tingles crawl up my spine. They made me think of the lip of a seashell, and they were as deep as the ocean.

She was dressed like a sailor, too. A loose shirt with long sleeves, rugged pants, and bandoliers across the chest and golden jewelry adorning her ears and fingers. She looked a halfway cross between a pirate and a wood witch, half-wild and untamed, like the sea had tried to claim her and spat her out to shore instead.

"That is a strange way to introduce yourself," I offered, not showing my discomfort. Had she struck her head from the waves of power? "Are you okay? If you struck your head or hurt yourself during the waves, you should get it checked."

"No, no, I'm very well," the young woman said, shaking her head abruptly. She winced, her intent flickering and evening out. It made me think of a woman beating metal until the lumps flattened out. "Ulysseiah, that is my name. Just… you should go. I am okay."

I lingered there for a moment, wanting to ask more and resisting the urge to offer assistance. But I also needed to check on Chul. I spared the woman one last glance, still kneeling on the floor, before I began to walk toward my companion, stepping around gutted pillows and shorn stone.

Yeah, Chul was about as skilled as I was at keeping a low profile. "Arjuna," I called, "are you alright?"

The pseudo-titan blinked at me owlishly, then grinned a smile wide enough for the sea once more. I could sense his desire to speak, to tell me about the aetheric art he'd just discovered. All on his own, something unique to him. But he couldn't here, not with so many ears listening.

"Lord Yaksha," he said instead, coming down from his adrenaline. "I have proved my valor, have I not?"

I hummed. I didn't really have the heart to tell Chul that I was certain Naesia had been cheating. Better to let him have this victory.

"Indeed," I said serenely, before sparing a look toward Nerium, whose intense inspection was a bit unnerving. Especially because of how he showed practically none of it on his face. "Lord Nerium. I don't believe we've met."

The hamadryad didn't show anything discernible from failing to detect my mana signature. He smiled instead, patting Chul companionably on the shoulder. "Nerium of Clan Mapellia," he said. "A Yaksha and a titan together! It's like something from the old tales. Are you going to become a Malleus smith, too? Continue another old tradition?"

Malleus smith? I thought, remembering the name. Hadn't Aurora said something about that, long ago? Something about a titan forging weapons only for a designated champion, right?

Chul laughed awkwardly, stepping closer to me. "Nothing so grand, Worthy Foe," he said. "My hands are worn through battle and bloodshed. The forging of weapons is a pastime, most certainly, for I am a titan! But it is not my purest desire."

Nerium shook his head dismissively. His corded, mossy hair swayed like chains. "Impossible! For all your great routine, such a physique must be used. I have no doubt your creations must be marvels beyond compare. You look more a blacksmith than any blacksmith I've ever met."

Chul froze. "My creations?" he echoed, strangely subdued. He seemed suddenly unsure of the calluses on his hands. "My creations… Yes, yes. I have taken great pride in every swing of my hammer."

"My companion and I travel toward Ecclesiah," I said, interrupting Chul's thoughts. "In my most recent battle, our weapons and belongings were destroyed. The sea-folk have some of what we'll need to reforge them. Where is your destination, Lord Nerium?"

Nerium looked at me appraisingly, and I knew he'd caught the way I'd steered the conversation. "I was going to—"

"What have you done?" a furious voice echoed through the sky, rippling like thunder. "Did you not listen to me?"

I startled at the harshness in the intent, the sheer anger wafting down. Like an approaching stormfront, Clanlord Lo Phrain's emotions washed over me. The sylph hovered in the sky above us, his body sparking with lightning. The once-jovial eyes brimmed with something hotter than disapproval as they scanned over where the tent used to be.

Then they centered on me and Chul, conclusions quickly being made.

"You agreed," he growled, lightning stronger than any white core mage's flashing across his skin, "to no combat. You vowed you would keep your fights to yourself and not involve our guests!"

I realized then, as I stared up at the electrified clanlord, that I'd diminished sylphan nature. From a few short interactions, I'd assumed them flighty and distant like the cheery winds, rarely staying in one place and always seeking the next spot of color.

But they were of the skies, were they not? And here I sensed a building thunderstorm snapping within the confines of this angry god.

I faced the angry asura, letting his anger wash over me. A ways back, the leviathan who had just barely escaped the wash of Chul and Nerium's strength barely sheltered herself with her aura, stepping away like a cornered mouse.

"It is not as it seems, Clanlord," Naesia said, projecting her voice. She glided forward, her dress catching the sunlight in a flattering way. "These men did not start a fight. They prevented one."

The phoenix spared a glance toward Chul, gaze unreadable, before looking back up at the angry clan leader. "Accusations were made against me and mine that could not be tolerated. It is this valiant titan who took a stand against the baseless words. And what would have been a fight became… something else."

Belatedly, I put together Naesia's name. I didn't recognize her, but I knew her clan: Avignis was the clan of phoenixes that replaced the Asclepius in the Great Eight after their flight. Furthermore, Mapellia was another clan of the Great Eight.

The card game between Naesia and Nerium suddenly held far, far more weight.

Chul had no idea, I thought, recontextualizing everything that had happened in the past few minutes, but he shattered a ploy of some sort. He intervened in the highest echelons of politics. But whose? What did he stop?

And more importantly, would it put a target on our backs?

Clanlord Lo blinked, his electric aura settling slightly. His emotions didn't become subservient, exactly, but subdued upon seeing the young phoenix. The difference in their political stations was immediately clear: though the man hovered in the sky, it was obvious to all that the young woman was far above him. "My retinue and I will do what we can to compensate you, Lord Phrain."

Lo Phrain hovered lower, his anger draining away as he saw his situation. If he, a meager clanlord of nomads, tried to ask something too grand of a member of the Great Eight, he risked their wrath. He risked their apathy, too. It was the sort of thing I'd seen a few times in Alacrya, and even more in Dicathen. Oftentimes, when I offered my earnest assistance as Spellsong, those of noble blood would deliberately avoid asking for what they really needed, for fear of some sort of slight.

"I cannot ask much at all of an heir to a Great Clan such as yourself," the man said, dipping his head so as to not look the young woman in the eyes. "My clan shall search for the runaway tent. You need not bother yourselves."

An heir to a Great Clan? I thought, my surprise redoubling again. I turned, favoring the phoenix and her retinue with new eyes. She's the daughter of the clan head? What the hell is she doing out here? With no guards and barely a retinue? What the hell is she doing, cheating at cards?

I felt the pieces of something around me, a mystery I couldn't quite grasp, flitting just outside of perception. What would Seris see in this?

Naesia met my eyes for a very long moment. I could sense her irritation. Not at me or Chul, but at Nerium, who she was doing her damndest not to look at.

"We were just leaving regardless, Clanlord," she said serenely, her voice melodic as any birdsong. "But I have won a substantial sum in a casual game. I see it as only fair to leave this to you for any damages that occurred in our wake."

Naesia's small flock—only four in total—had been gathering the scattered currency blown everywhere from Chul and Nerium's scuffle. They gathered back around the clanlady, a small front united.

It all clicked in: the phoenixes' eagerness to leave, the lack of guards, the cloaks and shadowed features, their presence here in the middle of nowhere?

They were here for the exact same reason Chul and I were: on an undercover mission of some sort, trying to avoid too much attention. But whatever plan they'd had had gone haywire the moment Nerium had pushed Naesia to reveal her hand.

Clanlord Lo nodded wearily, like a balloon that had lost all of its air. "Thank you for your generosity, Lady Avignis," he said, looking over the back of the gigantes. Already, the patches of 'ground' were beginning to supernaturally deform, returning to their original states as craters filled in.

"And I shall search for the tent which has escaped!" Chul added, stepping up beside me. He puffed his chest out, slamming it with a meaty fist. "It was my strength that saw it fly. It is only just that I do so in exchange for such hospitality, Phrain of Thunder."

That, finally, seemed to rejuvenate the clanlord. I got the sense that whatever that tent was, it was something valuable. Either beyond the scope of money, or for emotional reasons. "Thank you, dear guest. Phrain of Thunder… Haha! I think I like that! I apologize for my assumptions. You are most kind."

The clanlord shook his head, then turned toward a few of his sylphan comrades, muttering beneath his breath. "Phrain of Thunder? Amazing!"

Once he drifted away at last, I shot a skeptical look to the disguised phoenix. "Do you have any idea what sort of mess we might be in?" I whispered quietly, amused. "I think we've got the attention of… Three? Three Great Clans in one fell swoop. That might be a new record."

Chul's shoulders slumped, and he looked away guiltily. "I am sorry, bro— Lord Yaksha. I saw injustice, and needed to act. Schemes burned in the Mighty Hamadryad's eyes, and I saw none within the fair Lady Phoenix's. I waited and observed for a time, but I could not stop myself from acting."

I considered this for a time. Chul's perception very directly contradicted what I sensed from Naesia and Nerium himself. The hamadryad had been so stalwartly sure of his accusation that the phoenix heiress' hand had been false, and the heiress so unwilling to reveal hers. So fearful.

I wondered how best I could break it to him. The money would arguably go to a good cause, but Chul had supported the wrong side.

Behind us, the phoenix retinue was talking to the group of Indrath guards. Naesia herself was gesturing vaguely toward us, and I was tempted to extend my sound magic to listen in, but… that would be too risky.

Nerium had resigned himself to his loss, and was puttering about, doing what he could to clean up scattered cushions and debris. I felt a bit bad for the man. I got the feeling he'd lost a decent sum of money due to Chul's good intentions.

"She was cheating, oaf," Wren said, muffled from within Chul's chiton. He peeked his head from folds, beady eyes staring up into the sky. "I saw her hand. It was stacked; unreasonably so. You were swayed by a pretty face. To go so far for some bird you saw at first glance is like very…"

Wren noticed me staring at him. Very, very judgmentally.

"Well," he muttered, "fair enough. But that was quite the clusterfuck. I don't think I could have done it better myself. I respect your taste."

Chul frowned, took a heartbeat to understand what exactly Wren had implied, then went red to his ears again. "Worker of Wonders," he hissed, perhaps the first time I had ever heard him truly whisper, "such an accusation is false! I would not waylay justice merely for the face of a woman, even if she is quite beautiful!"

Before Wren could reply with something wry and cynical, Naesia turned from the dragon guards, before striding deliberately toward us.

"Venerable Yaksha," the woman said cautiously, giving me a slight bow. "It is an honor to witness another on the path."

I bowed reverently in turn, befitting the woman's station as an heiress. "Lady Avignis. I hope my companion's actions were appreciated."

The young phoenix chuckled lightly, turning amused eyes towards Chul. "They were very much so. To have a conflict resolved in such a bombastic manner… It was an enjoyable show."

Chul, for his part, stood ramrod straight, his intent radiating subtle guilt as he kept his gaze averted low. Apparently, the idea that he'd helped this woman cheat at cards hit harder than it would for others. "I am glad to serve, Weaver of Fire," he said solemnly. "I only sought to do the just thing."

Naesia smiled genuinely, striding toward the looming titan. Then she rose up a bit, her hair a curtain of smokey gray, and pecked him on the cheek.

"Thank you, Arjuna the Titan," she said, amused by the flushed consternation on his face. "I wish you luck on your future travels. The dragons will not bother you while you rest here: I've made sure of that."

She patted Chul on the shoulder, spared Nerium a piercing glare, then rejoined the rest of her small flock. In barely a few moments, they were lifting off into the sky, transforming into their true avian forms as they flew due east. Naesia's feathers were a deep, smokey gray, matching her hair.

I watched them go like a hawk, feeling resolve and tension rise inside of me. "What did she say to you, Arjuna?" I said quietly. When Naesia had kissed Chul on the cheek, she'd used it as an excuse to whisper something in his ear, using sound magic of her own to mask it. But the usage hadn't made it past my eyes.

Chul looked at me, suddenly serious. His embarrassment drained from him like water down a drain, whatever the woman had warned him about rooting itself in his mind. "She claimed that the hamadryad may not be of the Mapellia Clan," he said. "That caution was a must."

This swirled around in my head, added onto all the other political maneuvers that had flown over it, too. But though Naesia's warning was dire, another truth revealed itself to me.

The heiress to the Avignis, replacement clan for the Asclepius, rushing away on a stealth mission? No guards, cloaks, and attempted stealth all spoke to desperation, a plan half-formed and a rush to the edge. I could sense it, having made so many of those myself.

I couldn't pinpoint why I was certain, but I knew. With the Asclepius Clan recently captured, who would be involved most in the aftermath? Who would know most about my flock within Epheotan society, but the very clan of phoenixes that replaced them?

Naesia knew something about my family, and she was rushing east for a reason. East, toward Klethra, where Evascir waited to give me information about them, too.

Chul rolled his shoulders, looking in the direction where the tent had disappeared, before flying off after it. I let him go, still considering what could be done to make this happen.

"The Flood," a voice whispered at my side. I barely resisted the urge to jump, the words soft as a calm lake. "They can't escape it, no matter how high they fly. Do you think I should follow them?"

I turned, finding the leviathan from before standing near me. Her heartbeat was so soft, almost as if it didn't exist, and her mana signature was weaker than even the sylphs around us. Ulysseiah, she'd said her name was.

"Why ask me such a question?" I asked, a little unnerved. I didn't have Sonar Pulse up, but still; very, very few people ever managed to sneak up on me. Aldir was one of those very few. "And why would you want to follow them? This 'Flood?' "

Her intent was scattered again, incoherent, as if she were trying to look at a dozen things at once. She haphazardly brushed aquamarine hair from her eyes, drawing a padded finger across the scaled ridges along her temples, before looking up at me quizzically.

"I don't know why I'm asking you," the woman said, cocking her head as if I'd said something incredibly profound. "I'm just… Just go after your friend, Lord Yaksha. I think he's going to need you."

I eyed the woman critically, recalling all I knew about leviathans, which was painfully little. "Are you always going to spawn into existence near me and ask me strange questions?"

The young leviathan rubbed the bridge of her nose, visibly suppressing some sort of headache. "Maybe? I'm… I'm sorry. I don't mean to bother you… I have a condition, makes it hard to think sometimes. I lost control, and I do things. It's nothing."

It didn't sound like nothing to me, but I did need to catch up with Chul. I considered for a few moments, the strangely vulnerable asura looking down at the gigantes' stone skin.

There had been an image of the asura cultivated inside my mind since arriving in this world. One of power, prestige, and ultimacy, and in nearly every instance where I'd encountered one of these nigh-deities, I'd found that image reinforced. Their power and majesty were innate, molded in their very blood.

After all, whose grace could compare with Aurora Asclepius, the phoenix of the skies? Whose surefire mystery could match Aldir Thyestes' martial mastery? Mordain had seemed ageless and endless, even in his fearful humanity. Some part of him was complex and unknowable as we sparred across the night.

When I'd visited the Hearth, so many of my assumptions about the asura had broken down. The façade of godhood fell away when they isolated themselves for such human reasons. And right now, the woman at my side felt strangely vulnerable, in need of a helping word. Something that could see her through another day.

"That does not sound like nothing to me," I said gently, imbuing my voice with as much sympathy as I could allow as some sort of unflappable pantheon warrior. My eyes flicked down to her, and I remembered how I'd been her shelter against Chul's explosive duel. "It may be little consolation, but I will listen if that will help in any way. I will follow after my companion, but I will return."

If there was something I couldn't let go of, no matter the masks I wore, it was that part of me. The part that wanted to listen and hear.

The way the leviathan looked at me, however, was new. She looked at me as if I were crazy for the offer. And maybe I was.

I noticed Nerium approaching at a slow pace, his deep-green eyes darting between me and the young leviathan inquisitively. Feeling stretched thinner than I would have liked, I rose into the sky before he could reach me.