I will Protect You (Chain)

CW:

Doll possessed by a jerk! Corpses try to bite some cuties. And the POV cutie does some beeeg spell that wiggles his body into new shapes. Um... Almost drowning in sand. Big bug crab/spider friend. Baps. Aaaaaand talks with sleepy dirtgods!

To say that it has been a chaotic trip since settling in at Wurzelbrecher would be an understatement. With the sudden awakening and movements of Sekrhús, and my love's growing instability, it is a challenge to have the wherewithal to consider our short term goals as they've shifted like pounce on the page. We've camped at the start of the new connemara marble causeway with Dregden, Adze, and his Permafrost Urge guard, while we wait for the arrival of Lynette to help Calix, and Xafra so we can proceed to the temple.

Expecting a restful midweeping after the conversation with Elevar, I work on practicing my Vigsang skills with Nelara and Aralen until Joan approaches with a new issue. The Skulk and I find Calix organizing a group of the Permafrost Urge to build a narrow stepped tower out of ice, with him explaining that "It's important to get as high as possible. This one needs to reach one of the windows."

Adze comes upon the scene with us, running over from his tent in a panic. "Dad, I don't think this is very safe!"

"Looks safe." One of the twins chimes, glancing at her sister, who adds. "Just so long as the Permafrosters keep up their cold magic making stuff." The first nods. "And don't get distracted. Or tired."

They look back to Calix's mischief together in agreement and the first concludes. "Ice is basically as hard as a rock. Is why it had to be banned from snowball fights with fleshy sorts."

The rumbling of footsteps alerts us to the approach of Hackt, who sets down a perfectly square pillar of cobalt blue ice next to me. "Will this do?" It asks the members of the Permafrost Urge.

I look on in dismay as they cheer and incorporate it into the top of the tower, raising up Calix even higher.

"What do you mean by window, darling?" I call up to Calix. "I must assume you're not being literal."

"This one needs to see what Sikkina is up to on Earth. To make sure the wiggles that her moms are doing aren't counterwiggling its plans yet." He shouts down.

Sikkina? How is he seeing her from here?

From the main camp the sounds of Dregden and Zagan waking up cut through my worried thoughts as the whippen howls and chitters.

Hackt, bless its heart, offers its hands for me to step up on, to aid me in climbing after Calix that this conversation doesn't have to be an exchange of volume.

"Honey, Sikkina hasn't... Hatched yet. What's Earth?" I ask hesitantly as I work my way up.

As I get closer to the top of the tower, a good four times my height already, Calix responds absently "Hasn't hatched yet here, but Earth is a fair time ahead of us. It's kind of sad how much she's like her mother already."

Joan huffs, tail swirling in curiosity as she calls up at him. "Which one? She's burdened with three disasters. And all mothers."

Calix starts to answer that but is interrupted by a big snap and crack from beneath our feet.

The tower's foundation is giving way.

Then the world explodes in an eruption of snow and ice and... lightning?

And instead of finding myself either slamming into the hard rock beneath, or buried under a pile of snow, slush, and ice. I'm upright and held so by a firm grip on the scruff at the back of my coat. Fifteen or so paces off to the side of the collapsed structure.

"You, last I heard, were supposed to be napping." Lynette informs Calix, whom she holds in the opposite hand much more firmly than me. So much that he's dangling a little in the air. "Not... Building snow towers barely able to hold a small Doll's weight."

The song is dead around her. What could have done that?

"You look like you lost a war with a mirror." Adze gently snipes at Lynette with a chuckle. "Thank you for coming to help my father. I'm... Not really up to stopping him from doing whatever he wants, and Rufus is even worse at it."

"It's not the job of one's children to stop a foolish old man from turning himself toward mischief. And no, just with one of Xafra's more vicious siblings." She replies while releasing me and adjusting Calix to hang in front of her. "So, are you still riven with prophetic nonsense, or did you bleed that venom in the time it took me to get here? I found a jar and even a nice quill and journal for the occasion, dear one."

"Oh! That would be very very helpful." Calix says, squirming around in Lynette's grip. "This one was just checking on your daughter's progress. She's a very cute bunny right now. Has your eyes."

She just... stares at him. Taking a few of my heartbeats to, I assume, check in on her child here and then decide how she wants to handle this information.

Sighs and uses her free hand to present him with a jar and quill balanced atop a journal pulled from... somewhere in her tattered attire. Must be magic, there's not enough there, there, to store that much on her.

"Later. I'll press you for details after I've killed the cunt responsible for today." She decides, then begins to explain. "For now, I'm going to cause you a few drops of pain to gather the first strings for the weave. Then, as you record the Strife you endure into this or any other tome, it will lessen. Stole the idea from Augusta, actually. And she might have stolen it from others who employed similar techniques. You will literally bleed your Oracle nonsense into threaded ink to be drawn out and sew into the pages. It's cracked and riven... time consuming. But better than babbling endlessly and suffering with no good outlet. Do you agree to this?"

He waggles back and forth, body swaying in a mimicry of a nod as he takes the items. "This sounds very useful. This one is gonna miss you, Miss Lynette."

She hesitates, then sets him down.

And proceeds to raise a broken hand to tap his forehead, lips, and left index finger before sparking an oddly pitched spell that looks and feels a lot like what she showed me to Rot Ousia. But... smells more like Nomos than Miasma?

"That's sweet of you, Calix." Lynette nods as inky black threads begin to spool into the jar my love holds. Then slithers up to latch onto the quill's tip. "Now, is there anything else I can offer in the span of a few heartbeats? I've quite the distance to break and can't turn round once I set off."

"Nope nope. Just remember to tilt the balance to keep them on task. Miss Xafra doesn't quite have enough of the good thinks to handle it." He responds with a big grin as he thwumps her in a hug.

"Thank you Lynette. Genuinely." I state, just starting to understand how much things are about to change.

She hugs back more tightly than expected, then does the same to me before pulling away. "Of course. Always. Safe travels."

Then looks up. Think for a second she's glaring at the Suns but... no. He's on the other horizon. The moon is drifting across that one. She takes three steps back, holds her broken hand out to measure the angle, then...

"Malkose Blitzköder." Louder than I think I've ever heard anyone need to lay a spell's name into the Real.

But the lightning she tears away as, is so quiet it seems to eat all noise made around it for a few seconds as it launches her at the rising moon.

Whatever she did was madness for certain. Within minutes Calix has started writing and handing out drawings to our group, telling us that we still can't travel down the causeway just yet, that we need to wait a little bit longer until everything is properly set up before we go. Initially I am... Concerned that the level of good humor and acceptance from our escort from Wurzelbrecher will drop rapidly but it's clear that Oracles still have an honoured reputation amongst the warriors of that Grove.

Calix sits beside me as we dangle legs over the side of the causeway and wait for whatever is supposed to happen.

Hours pass like that before Calix turns to me with a smile and whispers "It's time" and once again everything changes. Existence feels... different. Like a monster is looming over my shoulder and in my shadow, yet somehow safer than ever. An omnipresent hum like a cord pulled taut now seems to linger over the Vigsang.

Our entourage scrambles to their feet and to arms, the smell of rot permeating the air as odd squelching noises come from the floodplain ahead of us.

Hackt steps up, placing its form between us and the floodplains, its posture defensive. I can hear its frame strain as it initiates Giyar Four and prepares to slide into its bestial form.

Hackt, with its height advantage over us, sees more of what the rest of us cannot not. "Master." It starts, rasping voice edged with danger. "Sundered and hewn things leave the embrace of the world. This one knows not what will happen next."

Joan slips over to place a hand on Hackt's shoulder, using it to hop up and see for herself.

Is hissing as she lands. Braid twisting about in revulsion and fear. "It's like what is whispered is kept deep below back at the Estate. But... able to move. Doesn't just... wail and weep in silence only a few can hear. Corpses finding rotting flesh happy to move again."

Calix, in stark contrast to the murmurs of disquiet and worry, hops up with squeak and a smile. "Okie dokie everyone, It's time to play Who can outrun shambling corpses intent on stealing the ousia out of your body! Everyone, head to the Temple, pick a buddy and keep them moving. We've got about six hours to make it to the far end. This one and the Skulk will maintain the rear guard since we're immune to their predations. Rufus, Get running with Adze please."

Adze stares at his father in shock for mere moments before grabbing me by the arm and sprinting down the causeway. "Permafrosters! We must make ice walls and a path to build up speed, we will not make it otherwise."

Nelara and Alaren, to my surprise, split to pair up with members other than each other. Move to opposite sides to team up with Joan and Hackt at the rear. Ready to smack and kick and even bite any not dead anymore corpses that get too close.

As for our two Combat Dolls, we hear their Giyars buzz in challenge to the shambling hoard.

As Adze pulls me along I assess the situation. I've been a thresher for long enough to be able to manage a situation like this, haven't I? Think. What resources do we have? Adze's plan is fine but insufficient. The half dozen Permafrost Urge can't manage that amount of distance without rest. I have my entire wellspring, my perception enhancement, and my wards, but... Wait. mebe.

[Joan, the Betwixt, is there something to do with geometry?] I intone through the amulet as I continue running at the front of the group.

[For us? The Skulk and yourself? Yes. But that would cause the hoard to only consider Calix's child and the Permafosters for any length of time. Might free us to strike and protect better, but could also leave them to be the only focus.] She explains.

[That works good enough, Joan. Calix, I need your ink. You probably already know why.] I rapidly intone once more before shouting to Adze. "hold off on the ice. I have a plan to make it more effective. I need only a few minutes."

Calix cackles loudly and begins passing the jar forward, a shadowy tether still connecting it to him, as Adze relays my demand.

This... Is a Terrible idea. Probably the worst one I've had since becoming a Thresher. But what other choice do I have? I'm not going to risk any of them, especially Calix, with him deliberately staying in the back. Logically, I should be angry with him. Furious even, that he's manipulating me this way, but... It's not him pulling the strings, just him seeing the way the cross brace moves before we are all compelled to dance. Oraclic Ink in my hand and my doom in my heart, I offer up a silent prayer to Sín before I begin, hoping for a sign. Please tell me, am I doing what is best for my loved ones?

She, of course, has no answer. No sign or flash of Divine might to lay before me. Both being dead, but also Cracked and Riven since before most recorded histories.

Maybe even uncaring to the struggles of us below. Or driven as mad as Girra in how much She does care but cannot act.

Has watched millennia upon millennia of Her Dreams falling all to pieces, whatever they might have been before Her end. Only the strengh and dedication of Dämmerung holding Her from crashing down and ending most life on this world.

"So be it." I mutter. My actions have always been my choice, even when others guide. I have the ability to do something different, but... Sometimes a dog must heel.

The invocation starts simply enough as I drop to my knees mid stride and begin, planting my hands on the cool marble. "Dämmerung, Cradle and Cairn, from your soil we grow and to your stones we return. Permit me the hubris of altering your works. Let me demonstrate your enormity and capacity to shelter."

Permission Requested.

I drink down the jar of ink, twisting my insides as I prepare myself to be the instrument I play. "Xafra, Glory and Tragedy, you suffer well, and we strive to do the same. With arrogance and regret, I will alter your works. Let me demonstrate how one may connect through severing."

Intent stated.

With a slash of my hook, I use fingertips to paint for the first time a physical version of my inverse rosebridge ward. "Augusta, Kindness and Loss, you create the silent paths we shall all eventually walk. I demand through debt unclaimed that you turn your face from me. Look not at what I do."

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

debt collected.

Finally, I stand and look back at my Skulk as they begin trying to repel the shambling corpses that refuse to wait for me. Pulling hard on the Vigsang I finish my invocation, utilizing all the magics I have within my grasp to make this work. "I am the Hound that caught Death. I am the Hound that saw through the Betwixt. I am the Hound beloved by an Undying Oracle. I claim dominion over the edges of the Real and Unreal where Divine and mortal blend. I claim dominion over the unused spaces where Miasma gathers in plain sight. I claim dominion over my form, to forge impossible angles with my will."

Proclamation made. Now for the pain.

Resheathing was a gentle process, guided by Divine instinct. Fleshcrafting in contrast was countless little agonies as my nerves burned while it was being completed. This hurts my soul instead of my body, flesh flowing like water as my existence is stretched and pulled to be and not, both present and absent. Yet it works. I can feel that it has worked. I activate the ward and it bends the nature of the causeway, defying the laws of the Real as the sides connect to each other both from above and below, creating a channel of space we can travel through.

I nearly black out, the air in my lungs now insufficient for fueling my body. Hypoxia. How do I fix this? My Physis is near empty and Ousia would be burning years in exchange for minutes. Help, I need help. "Done. but. can't breathe."

My Ousia wellspring feels lower — smaller than it's ever been despite the invocation costing less than I expected, even with Divine assistance. strange.

Arms around me. Lifted. Being carried. Demands for someone to help me. The roar of Hackt's ursine body, a backdrop to the flashes of ice and worried faces as I feel myself slipping in and out of consciousness.

A giggle from Calix in my mind reassures me as he intones [Breathe deep and descend, beloved.]

Hours pass in a frigid blur as I slow and deepen my breathing, trusting in the group around me to deliver us safely from the terrible result of my goddess' newest endeavor. I take the time in Joan's arms to try and understand the changes in my body, the tradeoff for channeling such a spell through my body and the ability to do something similar later.

My limbs feel... longer. Holding my fingers in front of my face, they look translucent and seem to be not fully present as they give off an odd smoke.

"Stupid master." Are the first grumbled words that seem to do more than simply flow in one ear and out the other. "Good at throwing his body over a problem so others can march across him and over it. Skilled master. Yes."

Joan is talking to herself. Voice a low pitch amidst quick precise motion that feels fluid. Well-paced. Safe and steady.

"Has bitten into Betwixt in ways a S̷̯͐͐p̵͖̱̍į̸̞̑n̷̬̋́n̸̈ͅe̷̖̠̅̈r̵͖̿ ̵̐̾of Be͐twee̶͂̓n or three will feel and hear and bristle at. Can FEEL one of them close. And wanting to look and this. But..."

She huffs then, voice goes even lower. So quiet it barely sounds like something I should be able to hear. Like my ears are able to focus on these small half-sounds.

"Less stupid than trying to outrun hungry corpses. Less stupid than any other plan this old Frame had. So... a good master. Best this one's had since old Melaxii and her three voiceless consorts. But being the smartest amidst fools between bad places doesn't befit him."

A shift, she's adjusting me to be held at a new angle. Trying to... make me more comfy?

"Also... too wriggly. Masters aren't supposed to wiggle so much! Especially when asleep and recovering."

"Fair words." I groan to her before switching to intoning. [Are we almost there? I'm not at risk of perishing but I won't be able to do much of anything, even walk, unless I can copy our Goddess and commune with Dämmerung.]

[Yes. You did perfectly. Perhaps made your body a bit too strong for your Wairua and Ousia, but once word gets around, the first will fix itself and the Allagaí will fix the second.] Calix responds with faint amusement.

[Both in flesh and soul, he will need to feed.] Joan agrees after a hesitation. [We should send the twins through the Spire that strangles the Temple to collect food from the scattered Estate's food stores. Replenish our rations as well as making sure Master's new body gets enough nutrients. This one thinks he's going to eat more than before.]

I puzzle over Calix and Joan's words for a bit before an idea comes to me. [Calix, can you connect me to Sekrhús? Enough to send a message I mean?]

[Nope! But we're about a minute from the Temple and you'll be able to get her attention by putting your hands on the Spire.] Calix answers immediately.

Oh. Well, that makes things easier. We're safe. We made it. Good.

"We're here. Let's get inside and the doors closed. The dead wait for no one." Adze's voice rings out loudly. "Dispel the ice if you can, leave it if you can't, our hosts should be understanding, and most importantly, if you value existence do not attack or insult anything in the Temple of Dämmerung."

After we get inside, Hackt lets out the facsimile of a sigh before it flops onto its back from standing, causing a rumble and what I can only imagine is a bear-woman shaped grater in the ground. "This one needs rest. It has been many seasons since it has slaughtered such numbers."

The twins move to the doors, working with the Permafrosters to start to shove the big stone things to close. Yipping and chirping to each other and the group in encouragement.

Then it's closed. And the silence in the large chamber seems to echo as loud as any shout.

"Did they stay dead? We couldn't tell from our position" Dregden asks Hackt.

Hackt, from the floor, responds, "The small ones could be destroyed easily. Overwhelming strength banished whatever force animated their festering forms, but the small ones merged to make bigger ones which needed to be destroyed multiple times over to be discorporated. Troublesome."

"Sounds like it. How's the Divine-touched fool doing? Saved us without a doubt. Wouldn't want him dying because of it." Dregden asks, their voice coming closer.

"Coming up with more schemes spiced with the same." Joan grumbles, moving to settle me against a set of stones shaped in... smoother shapes? Like someone expected some really tired guests that might enjoy a good nap against them.

Then she pokes me with her braid. Both in agitation but also trying to check for... something. An examination? "This one honestly doesn't know what is healthy and what isn't across these new shapes."

I reach out with a wispy hand and touch one of the odd Spire roots poking through the Temple wall. "Hey. Sekrhús. Witness me."

There is a writhing in the root. A twisting twitching reverberation of Will. Both mine, but... also another.

Then I hear the cackling whisper of one rasping a spell from within the growth. "Wurzelriss."

And the roots crack open to pour someone to tumble out and into the space. A Doll I've never seen. One wrapped not in clothes, but teeth and spines. Half it's Frame is unbuilt or broken. Spilling Miasma... Nomos? But not exactly? Empty Nomos?

"Sprecher von Rot." It weaves, before any others can react and from her broken frame, and the spilling energy wraps around to coat her like the threads of a cloak. Altering her expression from focused and empty to observant and curious.

"Well, isn't this an odd way to get more than an infesting peek into Dämmerung's Temple." She purrs, eyes rolling over the space before moving to settle grey piercing set on me. "Hello, Rufus Chain, you knocked?"

Sekrhús, woven through the body of a Doll.

Joan hisses and pulls back. Invoking her Betwixt glyph. Disappearing from all sight and memory but my own.

With her eyes on me, my significance begins to grow to fit my changed body, giving me the strength to stand, if not much more than that. "I did. Needed to use the weight of your perception to stabilize. Thank you. How's your day going? Eventful perhaps?"

Rapidly, Calix crosses the room towards us, fire and fury on his face in a way I haven't ever seen.

"Very good. And eventful, but..." She grins, gaze rolling to fall on Calix while murmuring. "Not nearly as much as the ones to come."

"CARAVEL IS NOT YOURS TO PLAY WITH, YOU CORPSE GOBBLING MUSHROOM FRAUD!" Calix roars at her, drawing all eyes on him.

Sekrhús chuckles, "Oh but that's where you are so very wrong. She is. In all ways. At least until my new Blossoms navigate the threads to select a new Zurrzunge for me. And past that, everyone save three are mine to play with now. Mine to Rot and mine to Ruin and mine to Blight. Unto and beyond this broken Dream's End. You saw this all coming. Walked in step with the songs your heard Her weeping. Also..." Her mirth swivels to confusion. "*Mushroom fraud?* How do you calculate that? I'm the improved design, last I checked the Threads."

Calix steps up to Sekrhús, brushing a hand against the broken face that she wears. "You're a beautiful fool, and you'll be a magnificent tool when you flay yourself across reality in your desperation to feel and experience something new. For now, you're still just a poor imitation of a mycelial network that cannot sustain life. The Resentful outside are the closest you can come to it, and you couldn't even do that without two Divines help. This one is a mad broken Doll yet still can see what you cannot."

"Hey. Hey. Can we all... Take a step back and talk this out, please?" I ask with concern.

"Such a charmer, as always." She purrs at him, the sound ending with a clicking of gears and broken Frame parts inside straining against the weight of the weave over the Doll. "But you're right, and if you're wrong? This time no one gets out. No one. And every world Augusta touches is mine now too. But for now... This newest Lashing Tongue has a dragon to hunt before my Blossoms can fuddle any schemes there, and you have a lover to make sure breathes in some Dirt. Give the keeper of this Temple and the sleepy Divine my infectious regards, would you?"

Calix nods and pulls me away from her, scooping me into his arms before I can protest. "No one gets out alive, that's the whole point of life. This one looks forward to you experiencing that a few times. Should be agonizing and educational."

Sekrhús tilts her head in acknowledgement, "Or they get what I got. Endless everythings. Ende der Ernte."

A crack, and the threads around the Frame Calix said is named Caravel twist back and away to drape like a cloak over the shattered parts.

She hesitates, then flexes fingers and shoulders and neck in ways that cause that Frame to groan under the pressure.

A blink and she looks between us, speaks in the voice that hitches and twitches. "Oh, g- g- greetings Test- ter D- Doll. Th- this one is G- gl -gl glad to see you well. Can this one be of s- ser- service to our M- m- THAT BITCH Mistress before emb- b- barking on its primary F- function?"

At her words, Calix proceeds to lose all remaining sense of sanity as he simply turns away and begins screaming non-stop, both auditory and through the network directly at Xafra.

Before I can even step towards him, reality is torn open in a spray of gore and Xafra is diving at him in warlord form, immediately wrapping him in four of her arms as she wields the other two as spear blades. "Who Hurt My Boy?"

"Underst- st- stood. This one will t- t- tend to its tasks. H- h- happy to see you all again and finding Good F- F- Function." Caravel agrees with broken, albeit chipper, words as if Xafra's roar was a simple reply given in the same tone. Smiles at the other Dolls from the Estate, then turns to head toward the closed doors of the Temple.

Fingers flexing and cracking in rippling waves that match the beat of the teeth and spines that twist from her Frame.

"Stop." Xafra responds as she seems to recognize the Doll. "Your pinnates miss you. Would you like to return to them?"

She seems to hesitate for half a step, but only twists to walk backwards while replying with that same easy shattered smile. "Pi- P- Pinnates? This one doesn't have those. And e- e- even if it did, Good Function comes f- f- first, Bl- bloss- s- som Xafr- ra. Alw- w- ways."

Xafra stares at her a bit longer, seemingly unbothered by Calix's continued screaming, then snaps out "Add personal frame preservation to Primary Function and update internal register. The Doll that I am holding is now known as Calix. I will seek you out with additional instructions in a few cycles."

The spines and teeth and odd vaporish strands of energies swirl like water might absorb sugar or salt. Then she speaks. "C- c- C-commands woven into the central Looms just beneath central spinnings. Patterns altered and old designations discarded. C- c- Calix? Cal... ix?"

The Doll trails off, footsteps slow to a stop. And for the first time her expression seems less than obviously pleased with things. Less certain. More confused as gaze falls on my screaming lover.

"Calix." She nods, then turns and arrives at the door. proceeds to shove it open with a single shove of only one arm and slips out. Pushes it shut.

The moment the door closes, Xafra's attention returns to my love and she just... Blows air into his face which somehow works to stop his screaming but sends him slipping catatonic.

Calix shudders and holds her tightly as I, feeling that it's safe to approach, move closer. "Thank you, Xafra. I've never seen him this bad."

"My niece is uniquely suited to vicious means, and she's only improved with our new connection. But... He should be okay now. I'm going to fix Caravel, what amount I can fix, though it will take some time. Delicate work. Now, what in my name did you do to yourself? I felt the draw of power but was weirdly blocked from stepping through or reaching out until Calix started screaming." Xafra responds.

The Twins carefully approach too. Kneel about six paces away. Expressions of silent worry settling as their tails curl around each other.

Joan remains back, just as worried but.. seething. Eyes locked on the closed door as she remains fully Betwixt. Braid curling and snapping in anxious angry motions. Grumbling quiet fury she probably doesn't think even I can hear. "Even the old Blossom's new sleepy moss born thing was a good compromise. But that one? No. No no no. Bad Function. The worst."

"Was thinking the same thing, Joan." I murmur before focusing on Xafra's question. "I uhm... Remade myself? After seeing the Sunblessed and Prevoriis, I realized that there's more ways to be and that if I twisted myself a specific way I could maximize the effectiveness of all of my disparate abilities towards the purpose of outrunning the Resentful."

Hackt, from the ground coughs out what I imagine to be a laugh. "Slapdash apotheosis with no thought to the consequences."

"Ookayy. What are the Resentful?" Xafra asks, looking me over, "And why does becoming a partially translucent, partially mistform, partially... absent dogboy help?"

"OH! Those are corpses that woke up and seem to want to bite bite bite people!" Nelara chirps. Then Alaren adds thoughtfully and more calmly than her twin's excited outburst. "Not Dolls though, mostly seemed annoyed that we stopped them from doing that. But Rufus did some kinda fancy magic that made it so we could get away and they couldn't get us while us Doll kicked the piss and blood from all their bits."

"T'was a great slátur." Hackt sits up, coming to my side. "The beasts may yet still be a problem. This one is unknowing of how...localized such a phenomenon may yet be. The creatures will join together to make larger versions, and those will combine to make larger behemoths still. This one finds it prudent to assume that this process has no limit. The smaller they are the easier to destroy them."

"Ah. If the world wasn't already dying, I'd worry that I kickstarted the apocalypse, but thankfully, I can still blame that on my sister." Xafra says blithely. "I... Am really busy currently, to be honest, so I'm going to dip, but let me know when you're done and what you find? Hopefully wrangling Dämmerung is less stressful than managing Sekrhús' exploration of the Driftdream and Lynette's reincorperation? Just... Please, for the love of my mother, nobody kill themselves or alternate versions of themselves before I get back."

"We... will do our best. I need to get some of that good Divine breath to fix the rest of me, and talk to whoever else is here, if there's anyone here, do a bit of research, and then we'll contact you again. Good luck, my Lady." I answer sincerely before I take Calix from Xafra's arms and stumble, immediately passing him to Hackt.

As I collapse back, Hackt cradles me in its palms alongside Calix. It rumbles at me, both approval and chastisement in its voice. "Rest now, my fool of a master."

"Good Luck, Mistress." The twins chime in harmony, moving to rise and be close in case more help is needed.

With a nod, Xafra steps back through her entry wound and closes it behind her.

"Once again, I'm reminded how lucky I am that I didn't genuinely anger her." Adze comments from where he sits, exhausted.

A long silence passes as the rest of us all just sorta collapse where we stand and try to destress. Finally Dregden stands and Zagan splits off from her. "I'm going to send Zagan to scout ahead. Make sure there's no surprises."

A little while after the whippen bounds out of sight, Dregden speaks. "Zagan has found one of those Tzzchek folk. Looks different from the ones Xafra told us about. More hermit crab in appearance, apparently. Should I have them return with this entity?"

In the hesitation between decisions, a pair of long stalks bearing multiple eyes slips from the shadows of the tunnels. Followed shortly by what we're guessing is the... head, ish, part of said huge crab Tzzchek.

Because behind it is the rest of the shell. Larger than a small house and covered in moss and growths that teem with life and slowly awakening critters of all sizes.

A low chittering sound rolls from the entity.

COMMUNICATE

Then the clicking sounds lower to being barely heard. Replaced by a gentle worried voice we can all understand.

"Greetings. This one witnesses your weariness, but worries this level of the Temple is not a fitting place for you all to find rest." It calls. "Would you wish for softer burrows filled with promises of protection? And sweet fruits and water to feast upon? Or are you here to Commune with the roused Dämmerung?"

"Originally to explore, but now communion has become necessary for me." I respond first, hauling myself to my feet.

It chitters for a few beats, no translation being offered at first. Then the weave speaks. "This one can prepare the Ritual. Also can carry you to the Sands of Entombment if your body is unable to bear your weight while other Keepers lead your companions to the dens."

I shake my head. "Much appreciated, I should be able to walk, thank you." I turn to the others, "Anyone else wish to participate?"

"This one will follow, make sure no more harm comes to you." Joan murmurs from betwixt, only noticeable to my senses.

The twins shake their heads in unison. "Hope you get feeling better!"

Hackt looks to me for the passing of three heartbeats before giving a soft grunt, laying back onto the floor with Calix. "This one believes you will be fine, master."

Dregden offers a wry smile. "I'd rather not. It's been eventful enough for me and Zagan today."

Adze marches forward stating, "I am coming. This is the whole reason I'm even here. Hackt, take care of my father while we are gone."

"Very well. The little keepers will lead you all to safe dens. You are welcome to all food and drink and nests there so long as no violence is offered. If it is, you will need to endure the privilege of being hunted." The large Keeper of this Temple agrees as a number of little critters bounce and slither and hop from within and atop its shell. Between one and three approaching each member of the Skulk and Permafrosters. "Otherwise, please follow this one."

Myself, Adze, and Joan follow the Keeper down tunnels similar to what the estate has, our guide traversing with legs hooking and snatching on whatever edges and grips it can along the walls as it leads us. It leads us into a massive chamber with a floor of shifting sand and we cautiously stop at the entrance. "Is it safe to proceed?" I ask politely.

A click, three pops, then the Keeper seems to shiver and wribble in... Amusement?

"Safer than the Voice of Rot you met above." It chuckles, shifting to scuttle up to hang from the ceiling, a few long legs reaching out to dangle over the shifting floor. "This one will fish you out if your Entombment and Communion would steal last Breaths from your bodies without the sleepy Divine's Will behind the act."

I turn and lock eyes with Joan. [My apologies dear, I'm apparently not done being stupid yet today. I still have to follow Calix's instructions after all.]

With that, I inhale deeply and let myself fall backwards into the sand that gently parts around me. Not simply quicksand but Divine Will, my Physis draining freely as I quickly pass the equilibrium point of buoyancy and submerge a few metres down before the process slows.

"Bloody fool" Adze shouts before he does the same beside me, his body sinking much slower at first until he realizes the trick.

Joan moves to crawl up the wall as well. Letting long braid extend and whip-crack in worry while moving to hang upside-down beside the looming Keeper. Loops and hoops the tip around my wrist to grip tight. Obviously not trusting the big hermit crab to keep to its words. "Just... Keep being stupid in polite ways and you'll be alright. This one will make sure of it. Even if this... big odd bug won't."

With the weight of the sand pressing down, and my complete lack of Physis currently, I feel a growing anxiety as I hold my breath, hoping that Dämmerung will appear but not expecting it. Joan will pull me out if I ask. No need to panic. No need to wonder how I'll be remembered or how the Skulk will do without me. No need to question if I've made up for all my mistakes and my compliance with orders that I should have rejected. There's a part of me that wonders if they wouldn't be better off if I simply let go. Calix could be happy. Hackt would keep him out of too much trouble and they wouldn't have me holding them back.

The pressure increases tremendously and a voice rings through my skull. "Rude little Tindalos... Not a charnel pit... Reflect and improve... Grow." As the voice — Dämmerung, I can only assume — waits for my reply, the pressure lessens once more, providing me a moment to think.

That annoys me. I don't know what kind of slur Tindalos is, but you can go back to being coated in the shit of everything living thing that walks, crawls, flies, and swims, and leave me alone, you jerk. I'm trying my best. I'm just one man. One stupid man.

The earth shakes and rumbles in not anger but amusement before a vision fills my eyes.

A young man with long black hair pinned in a topknot and dressed in an embroidered deep blue wide-sleeved open robe over a belted shirt and loose trousers looks at me with a patient expression. "Many have asked me, 'Sima Qian, why would you accept such shame, such humiliation, instead of dying with honour?' To you and them, kind stranger, I offer the same words. A man has only one death. That death may be as weighty as Mount Tai, or it may be as light as a goose feather. It all depends upon the way he uses it."

The body I occupy speaks with Dämmerung's voice, "Thank you. You will be remembered long past when the Emperor returns to the earth," and the vision ends.

I roll my closed eyes at the Divine. Fine. Your point is acknowledged. Please grant me your breath so I can choose a better place and time to die.

The smugness I feel wash over me would drown if I wasn't already suffocating yet it's accompanied by a burst of heat pushing into my chest and binding to my Ousia. Allagaí, the breath of Dämmerung. Thank you. I think in astonishment as I'm launched back out of the sand towards Joan.

She keeps me steady and tethered as the Keeper snatches me mid-air, then lifts and spins and drops me onto the hard stone edges of the space. Joan skitters to drop and crouch by my side. Braid wrapping around my hips to keep me from tumbling forward.

Helps pat my back as I have to cough and spit up a bit of sand.

"The sleepy Divine spits you out to keep making messes in the world above." The Keeper's spell chortles as the big crab clicks and titters. "Good. Good. This broody one is glad to see another hatch more into themselves. Now... about this other..."

Five spindly limbs slither to begin poking and fishing at the sand that still holds Adze beneath while three others wait around to catch him like it caught me.

The sand freezes over rapidly and I laugh. "Just like his father. Why rush when you can stop needing to breathe instead." I point to the ice. "That's Adze's Ice Coffin Einwandfrei. He mentioned it to me during our travels. It puts his body in suspended animation for a full week while allowing his mind to continue functioning."

The Keeper pauses, then lets out a long rumbling sound of consideration as its shell shivers to let a bap wriggle free from a nest. Flaps and flutters down and around me. "Little hatchlings really shouldn't wait around big old sleepy one's shells. But... if he is safe, this one doesn't mind waiting. Those little keepers will lead you to your gaggle."

Then the bap lands on my shoulder. Starts to happily keep to the namesake of the blind flying rat-like species and wap wap wap me on the side of the head in excitement and greetings.

My heart feels lighter than it has in weeks as we return to our group. While still temporarily limited in regards to the spells I can weave, I think I finally have the power and control to make a difference.

I take Calix back from Hackt as he rouses from his catatonia, and murmur to him. "No matter what comes, from now until I die, I will protect you."

Next chapter will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.