Scene Archives

has spent a long time admiring and pondering the train, sitting quietly listening to the hum of the portal, and making sure the kitten doesn’t attempt to go play with Archie while he’s in the midst of some very important calculations. Eventually, the kitten begins to tire, and Unua realizes they’ve got a long…night?…ahead of them here. It’s time to set up camp.

places their giant pack on the ground and unrolls far too many leathers and oilskins. A fire will do to start. Though it is oddly less cold than expected in between worlds, the rest of the party would likely enjoy some hot food. Around the corner of the ziggurat, Unua meticulously organizes a much smaller ziggurat of their own, kindling placed atop a mound of tinder. Their eyes flash white as they attempt to call forth a bit of their inner fire to light this one. Wisps of smoke trail up as the flame catches. As the licks of flame spread to the kindling, Unua begins stacking wood in a square, hoping to keep the ashes as contained as possible. They then place the large stone from the quarry into the center of the fire. Satisfied that the fire will eventually burn hot enough to cook over the flames and coals, they rest beside it for a moment.

It’s not hot enough to feel quite like home, but it is nice. They leave a cookpot and several sacks full of ingredients bought in Kesseg. Secretly, they hope someone else will be able to help cook later. They know humans are more particular about ‘flavors’ than Endjinn are. They shake their head and stand, bundles of poles and canvases under one arm. Does it rain…here? With as little sound as a seven foot frame of steel and brass can, they set up a tent not far from where Archie is working, on the (presumably very small) chance that he sleeps at any point during our stay here. The kitten nearly escapes Unua’s pocket several times during the process, immediately trying to catch and chase the ropes supporting the tent.

Not wanting to disturb the others, Unua takes the other bedrolls and tents and places four of them inside the doorway of the ziggurat. They keep their own lashed to their pack for now. It would be rude to leave Archie without company. Not that Unua believes Archie would consider sleep until the portal is open.

Briefly, Unua hears Aurelius say “Seems like a lot of effort….” before Salme laughs. They quickly duck out of the ziggurat and return to the campfire.

Much hotter now. Unua holds a hand to the flames, then to a small piece of bread that begins to sizzle. Pleased at the temperature, they begin to assemble some of their rations while the flames slowly burn the small tower of firewood to coals. Taking a small knife, they chop several portions of plant roots, bulbs, and dried meat into bite-sized chunks. As they cut, they attempt to remember that everyone else is smaller and needs to chew their food, and to not make Endjinn-sized pieces of food.

sits for a moment, attempting to recall their knowledge of “stew,” a dish they know is pleasant to humans when ordered correctly. They place a cookpot into the fire. Then some of the funny smelling bulb in. Wait for it to be brown, not black. The humans have an aversion to cooking their food all the way. Then quickly in with water, stirring, and the roots. Once the roots begin to soften, the dried meats go in, and the lid goes on. Oh no, one piece of dried meat didn’t go in, and fell into the kitten’s pocket. How clumsy. The next step was “waiting” but the human chefs often argued about how long to wait for stew. They check it and stir it occasionally.

In a second cookpot, some of the flour and water, and a pinch of the crystalline material. It seems strange that this is the only rock that humans are willing to ingest. The rest taste just fine. They shrug, and work the mixture together into a dough. Humans love bread. Unua doesn’t mind bread, but they hate dough. It’s so sticky. They place their hand over the flames again, cooking the dough enough for it to be easily removed (and oh no, the kitten gor some of bread). They cover the pot and wait. It is good that Unua is good at waiting. Cooking requires so much of it. They sigh a bit, and use a piece of rope to play with the kitten until the stew is ready.

removes the stew-pot from the fire, cleans the ashes and coals off of the stone slab, and places small balls of the dough onto the slab. When the dough is golden brown (NOT BLACK, THE HUMANS DO NOT LIKE THE BLACK BREAD), Unua reaches in and grabs it, placing them in a small cloth. They apologize under their breath to Archie, and loudly hit their chestplate with their fist, letting out a metallic ring, and rise to go find their friends.

flits onto the scene, head bobbing as though following an invisible scent trail. “MmmmmmMmmmmmmmmmmmm…”

: “Ooooooooh Unua. What’s cooking?”

: “Hello Friend-Awoken. I have made ‘Stew’ and ‘Rolls’”

The rolls are a little flat, but they’ll do. Not much for raising agents out in the void, apparently

: “Ahahah, wow! I’m impressed you made rolls out in the middle of nowhere!” He seats himself next to the Clockwork Knight, brushing back his mantle and slightly pulling up his sleeves as he prepares to nab a roll. It’s still warm (because time is a malleable thing), and he hot-potato tosses it from one hand to another as it briefly cools from the intermittent touching.

grabs the bowls and spoons from the pile of cooking equipment “Please be careful, it’s all still fairly hot for your standards.” They hand a bowl and spoon to the Awoken. “This is a strange place. I cannot decide if I am happy for the wait, or if I would rather jump right to our next destination.”

: “Oh?” He begins to ladle the stew into his bowl. “Excitement? Anticipation? A burning desire?”

: “Or is it the barren locale that weighs on you?”

: “A little of all three, I think. I do not mind the peace and quiet here. I am used to being silent and still during the sleeping and waking hours. I do miss the heat though. We have discovered many things. I hope that we continue to have many more things to discover. And remember. I would like my name back at some point.” Again the noise that can only be laughter. “I think I am more excited to see Samudra than I am to go back home. Which might be strange, but it is what it is.”

: “Scant few can intercept the emotions that bleed from the heart before they bathe the mind.”

: “Do you remember a home? What would you call, or what would you envision, your home?”

sits back into a cross-legged position, having finished scooping stew. He takes a moment to savor the smell- as though it is different from a smaller bowl rather than the serving pot, and gives a spoon a twirl before setting it in the broth.

: “I remember….places to stay. When I first walked the Beast, I found a place with a clan. They took me in, despite my strange appearance to them, and I hunted with them, fought for them, and protected them. Eventually, they became too old to continue the Hunt, and settled down, training others, cooking, crafting, as their hearts took them. As more Endjinn arrived, I, too, helped instead of hunted. Eventually…they all passed on. A new clan lives in that hall now. They were kind to me and allowed me to stay. From time to time I did. But I began to wander more of the Beast as well. I lived many places after that. Some in smaller settlements. Some alone, in the wilds and wastes.”

: “Hmm…” He hums while working on a mouthful of stew. After careful consideration and tasting- he swallows, puffing out a satisfied snort from his nose.

: “Is ‘helping’, more your home, then?”

: “Yes. One of the things that I remember is being…made. Being given a purpose. Continuing toward that purpose is ‘home,’ after a fashion. This traveling is both a break, but potentially the opportunity to find something I need to finish.”

: “Though, it may be that instead, I have much farther to go than I anticipated. The Beast is a place of fighting. I…am made to stop a large part of it. I am not all man, not all fiend. But I must bring the two to an understanding. A Peaceful one, if possible.”

: “What drives them both?” he asks, playing a bit with a potato shard with the spoon.

: “Survival. Once, fiends on the Beast were mindless perpetrators of violence. Now…they are more. More cunning. More deadly. More…like us. The people of the Beast have always defended ourselves from the Fiends. We would send parties to hunt great ones before they could destroy settlements.”

: “My last…place to stay was out in the wilds. I remember my plan. I was going to attempt to communicate with them before any hunting parties arrove. I do not remember whether or not I did.”

: “Before we go much further, are we speaking about… fiends, the things of brass and porcelain and gnosis?”

: “Of a sort, yes. These are made by the Beast herself. Of Iron, Smoke, Fire, and Feeling. They are larger, more violent, but they are none the less fiends.”

: “Huh! Isn’t that somethin’.” He dips a bit of the bread in the broth, letting it soak for a heartbeat before taking a bite. Mouth half full, he continues- “Very curious. What does the Beast want?”

aggressively outwiggles itself of the Kitten Pocket and hop-hop-hops down the Clockwork Knight to amble over to the Awoken and mew at him while the two of them chat.

: “The same thing she always wishes for. For the strongest to succeed. For those who are not strong enough to rise and redouble their efforts. To follow the fire in your heart. To live the life only you can. The Beast is a place where strength is rewarded. But also a place where there is always someone stronger. The end goal is triumph. There are no triumphs on the Beast that did not start or end with a defeat.”

listens, but also leans over because how can you resist not petting a tiny coeurl kitten? He offers it a thumbnail sliver of spinycarrot and meat first, looking to pet its sparky whiskers and floofy ears if it accepts.

accepts Treats and would probably let the Awoken pet and scritch it even without the bribe, because the Awoken is the Clockwork-Knight’s friend. Tiny little tendril-whiskers and ears wiggle at cross purposes with one another and it purrs a little bit, contentedly.

: “I’ll say outright I think the Beast itself will try to stop you very, very directly. Do you mean to make peace with it as well?”

: “It’s always worth a try. But I have a strong feeling that I was born to fight against the world that made me. I am no stranger to violence. I only wish for it not to be the only option.”

: “A clear-eyed response, if I’ve ever heard one, and the one that makes the most sense.”

: “In the story of there is always somewhere stronger, the Beast is also a participant.”

: “I have had an awful long time to think of it,” Unua chuckles

: “I am glad to be with people who wish to fix worlds. It gives me hope that I may yet succeed. For if I alone cannot best an entire world, it naturally falls that I should ask my clan for help.”

: “We’ll be there, blades in hand and gnosis at fingertips! Though I do wonder- if calamity does threaten the Beast, does it just mean for one of the factions? The Beast itself? All of it?”

: “Thank you, friend-Awoken. I assume it threatens all of the Beast. Even if it does not, to threaten one faction and not the other is not bridging the two. It is just another form of violence to overcome.”

: “And the moons… do they signify anything?” He sips broth from the bowl with one hand and his mouth, while the other is working on scritching between the kitten’s shoulderblades.

: “I mean, I can’t help but notice on the pamphlet that there’s a few missing.”

: “Wait, what do you mean missing?”

looks very concerned and mews up at the Clockwork Knight plaintively.

: “Mm, here, take a look-“ He places the bowl down, and just to happens to have the Traveler’s Guide to Known Reality with him. He flicks through it with a finger- “Almachadta, Sanctuary, Scorpion-Queen- no wait go back– the Beast, here–“ He places it on the ground and slides it over to Unua.

: “As written, it says there’s supposed to be twelve, and there’s only- onetwothreefourfivesixseveneight nine in this kind of wanna-be circle around it.”

: “Either it’s relevant or this text has a really shitty publisher.”

: “You will be okay, small friend,” and pats the coeurl. “By the stars, they’re simply…not there? My first thought is the Architect meddling again. There are twelve moons. There were twelve moons. There should be twelve moons. If there is any significance to them, I do not know it. Twelve is an auspicious number. There are twelve constellations that still have their stars. There are twelve moons of the beast. Aurelius seems to know more of the greater cosmos than I. Perhaps he or his…strange other-self might know.”

: “Though even if the strange one did know, they likely would not tell us.”

waves a hand dismissively. “I doubt that bird brain is all that concerned about it, but the foxen? Possible. But I mean, aside from the greater cosmos, how about the local cosmos?”

looks up at the Void-sky, searching for stars. “It is a strange sight, to be sure. To see nothing, but also so much.”

laughs. “No no, I mean- importance on the Beast.”

: “People have tried to name them, categorize them, assign them meaning. They all look the same to my eye. They reflect the light and heat of the Beast back to us.”

: “Any starlit guesses as to what could have happened to them? Which again- assuming it’s not a misprint of a sort.”

: “It could still be the Architect, taking what he wishes to keep, unwilling to fix the rest. Perhaps the Empty Space in the Sky grows. Perhaps the Beast herself has eaten them in her hunger. Hard to say from here. It is worrisome, but I know of nothing that devours moons.”

tilts his head this way and that. “What would God want with a lunar orb…? Pah!” He dramatically takes a big bite of the bread, washing it down with some more broth.

briefly considers absconding with the Travelers’ Guide.

: “I could not begin to fathom. His strength is antithetical to the Beast’s. He has cut his losses and run away to start anew. There is no glory in choosing not to save others when you have the power to do so. But his reasons will be his own, until we meet him again. I hope he learns something between now and then.” A pause, “No, don’t take the guide from Friend-Awoken. Here, we have a toy for times like this.” Unua takes out some feathers tied to a small string and dangles it just out of reach of the kitten.

: “You must learn to hunt, little friend. This will make better prey than a book.”

absconds with the feathers instead!!! except they are attached to the string!!! their plan is thwarted and they meow very dramatically and bunnykick the toy about it. This might have been their plan all along, honestly.

: “Yes, you’re ferocious.”

giggles delightedly at the budding hunter’s efforts.

: “Doubtless this one will grow into a fine hunter, having multiple worlds of experience ahead.”

tilts his head to the side. “Do they have a name yet?”

: “They are Ĉasid, the little hunter.”

tries it on a bit- “Ca, Casi– no wait.” He swallows, there was a bit of bread between the teeth. “Ĉasid!”

has a name now!! This is very exciting! Even more exciting than the feather-and-string toy, really, although they don’t know that and are -very- distracted by playing with the toy. But they mew exuberantly at the both of them, anyway.

mews back! “ ^{Mew mew!} “

: “And what of you, Friend-Awoken? While we wait here, do any memories of yours rise to the surface? Or do you instead think of the road ahead?”

: “That which I remember can be counted on one hand, but on very fond fingers.”

: “So troublesome!” He holds up his thumb.

: “A song, though how it sounds, not so much.”

brings up the pointer next. “The depthless joy and love and warmth of a chorus, sung in rich, embracing harmony,”

‘s middle finger is third. “A cold, lonely existence on a shadowed, cobblestone road.”

‘s ring finger, bare, but extended. “Somehow, some way, some road, that at one point, I have touched the Song.”

waits… “And the last finger I suppose I could currently stand to lose, were it not essential for gripping.”

picks up the last remnant of his roll with it and drops it in his bowl, just to casually scoop it up with the spoon and the last bits of stew.

: “I think the last finger should stay on your hand. Thank you for sharing, Friend-Awoken”

: “May we find your road and song on our journey.”

nods, though it’s not the definitive nod he usually gives.

: “Still… despite it, I feel as though the road is my home. Or I try to make it so, wherever I am.”

: “Then you also, wander. It is good of you to share your home with me.”

raises his empty bowl in a toast. “And that you share your support with me, as well.”

: “This is what friends do.” Unua raises the cat toy, with the little hunter still clinging to it.

mews perilously and clings to it until they’re on their tippytoes; they briefly experience the feline crisis of not being able to disengage their claws from a thing they very much have decided it is time to have disengaged their claws from before they land the manouevre and flop over onto their side and lash their tail feeling some kind of a way about the situation.

takes the opportunity to scritchpet kitten sidebelly!

purrs and curls up around the Awoken’s hand. The apparently-supernumary and unnecessary digit is safe, for the moment.

: “Ah, but there is little but to wash dishes with, nor to refresh the self with a cool drink.” He looks over to the Ziggurat, and has a few moments in thought with eye floaters and unfocused motes of flourishing gnosis about.

: “How about if…” He touches a finger to the ground, and a dark line of gnosis- its presence only betrayed by the violet aura around it- trails a curving path toward the Ziggurat, and he coaxes the flourishing gnosis from Almachadta.

: “Hmm, come now, just a bit.” He lets that roll stand.

: “Ahh, oops!!” He moves to shelter the food with his body from the rain!!

: “Ach, away with you, it’ll be too salty!!” He waves defiantly at the heavens while hunching over!

: “And the bread! Is for dipping!!”

: “Not raining!”

places the lid on the pots and offers the Awoken a water skin.

rolls back, accepting the water skin. “Thank you, Unua. And uh, sorry about adding the spice.”

: “(It can… kind of be retoasted, right…?)”

: “Of course it can! Here, let me.” Unua calls upon their inner flame to rekindle the fire.

for its part briefly started CAVORTING in the rain and looked a little bit sad that it was over so fast, especially because the rain was making their persons flail about and do funny things; Ĉasid has a proper appreciation for that sort of thing.

: “Good quick thinking, there.”

: “Whoof.” He flops onto his back.

curls up on top of the Awoken’s chest basically instantly.

: “Ohh, lightly-dewed Ĉasid.” He gently pets the kitten with both hands, making tiny biscuits on its back. “I appreciate your friendship too, even if I must now find a place to drip-dry or walk around with a kitten-sized dampness on my chest.”

daintily licks one of their paws, like that’s an answer.

: “Your ability to find trouble where there is none is impressive.” Aurelius say dryly as he walks up, notices the light mist covering everything around the camp, then shrugs before dishing up some stew for himself. “And thank you for the meal, Unua.”

puffs a sigh. “I am beleagured by a trouble with infinite difficulty, I am unable to rise from beneath this ravenous beast.”

mews, not very ominously.

: “Alas.”

: “Truly the most unfortunate of fates. Thank you for the company, Friend-Aurelius. How is your time on the Obsidian Road?”

considering for a moment as he snatches up a twice baked roll. “Hmm. Productive.”

gives a thumbs up from the supine position.

: “Sounds… positive, at least!”

: “Mostly yeah.”

takes a bite of both the stew and the bread experimentally initially, before deciding they’re safe for human consumption. After a few more: “And you?”

: “The stew is hearty, the bread is keen, the companionship, beloved.”

: “What are the moons for, Aury? The Beast moons.”

: “Roughly the same thing as any world’s moons; reflecting the light and heat of the Beast back onto the residents of its surface.”

blinks a few times, then turns his head to peer around the kitten to look at Aurelius. “…really? Huh.”

: “Usually it’s reflecting the light and heat of a sun, but Beast is unusually warm and has twelve moons instead.”

: “It was strange that Almachadta had no moons. I wonder if Samudra will.”

: “There was a lot about Almachadta that was strange.”

: “What’s the strangest, hit me with it, go.”

: “It being inside out with a miniature sun fixed to its hallow center. No contest.”

: “Same, Unua?”

: “It was quite strange to walk on the inside of a world.”

: “A’int that somethin’.”

: “…I guess it is pretty unique, compared to the rest of them.”

: “Certainly the only world I’m aware of that’s like that.”

approaches–summoned, it seems, either by Unua’s banging or the scent of food, or both–blinks at the wetness on the ground and files it away, then waves to the rest. “Ah, is it dinner? I could do with a bite.”

mews amiably at Wolf from their very important position keeping the Awoken pinned to the ground.

nods between spoonfulls.

: “Welcome, Wolf! It’s freshly heated!”

: “Greetings, Friend-Wolf! Help yourself “

glances over, arches an eyebrow, and then bends over to scritch the little one on the head, behind the ears–and does less than nothing to save the Awoken from his peril. “My. They’ve definitely become quite the fierce hunter since entering your care, Unua. Their prey is bigger than they are…” He grins amusedly at the Awoken. “And thank you, I shall!” He takes a heaping bowl of stew, perches two chunks of bread on top, sits in a dry spot, starts chowing down. “…oh, goodness. This is quite good.”

: “They’ll come for larger ones next, best be prepared with hunger sated.”

wiggles their ears AND their little coeurl-whiskers at Wolf; one of the whiskers curls around one of his fingers with a tiny little bit of playful static. They’re purring, again, riotously, and starting to make biscuits on the Awoken’s midsection, but their claws aren’t out, by some miracle of mercy.

: “Home a’int so bad, on the road.” He relents and puts his hands behind his head.

chuckles softly. “I’ve certainly had worse on the road.”

: “I’d say not having to worry about sudden rainstorms is definitely a nice benefit, but…” He trails off while stuffing bread into his mouth.

raises an eyebrow at Aurelius, speaking around a spoonful of stew. “Do I want to know how we got water everywhere despite being in a cloudless void?*

defers to the Awoken with a shrug. “I suspect some failed shenanigans.”

: “Liminal mishap. It happens!”

: “It’s at least fresh Almachadta rain.”

: “Fresh what rain?” The spoon has stopped halfway to his mouth.

: “Wow, I thought that part would have been the least surprising.”

: “Y’know, from Almachadta.”

: “Sometimes you try to make a fresh water fountain and instead you pop a leak.”

finishes his bite, but he gives the Awoken a look that is far drier than much of the ground around them. “You attempted to make a fountain. By taking water. From a world that is whatever immense and unfathomable distance away from here.”

: “I had a pretty good shot at it.”

: “It does seem more on brand for us than digging a well.”

To the Awoken, in a very neutral tone: “Did you?” To Unua, with a mix of amusement and exasperation: “Oh, very much so.”

: “Also, the bedrolls are all inside the Ziggurat, so no worries there.”

: “I wasn’t sure which rooms everyone wanted, but there’s bedrolls and tents that I don’t think we need here. Unless it rains again.”

Directly to the Awoken: “I don’t know, what’s the weather forecast?”

: “Ha ha ha.”

: “Drip dry, with a chance of flooding.”

: “Please do not flood the Zigguraut.”

Mostly under his breath: “Please don’t flood anything…”

: “I’m not gonna do it again _yet .”

: “ _{And I’ll have more juice for the second time.} “

: “I mean if he wants to flood a lake into existence that would probably be fine.” Chew chew chew.

: “Tho I imagine that’ll be easier next trip anyway.”

: “Ah, after we’ve reconnected Samudra to this place?”

: “Mmhm.”

looks very pleased with himself, having gotten that conclusion mostly on his own. “So what do you think happens after all five worlds have connections to this place?”

: “Teashops. Kitchy souvenir stands. Hopefully a working refuse system.”

: “That’s a good question.” He considers, between more bites. “Well, from where I’m sitting the Ziggurat seems like it’ll grow with each door. Gnosis manipulation should be easier… I have a hunch that the void will become a bit more stable and it might be saner for other people to travel through here, at that point?” A pause. “Also decent odds the Architect finally takes notice of it, then.”

gets a rather black look on his face, at the Architect’s name. “The reconnection of the worlds does seem like something he wishes to stop. I suspect he may notice earlier, depending on what changes we wreak on the worlds.”

: “Always a possibility! He did seem pretty distracted by the Omniclast when we left, but who knows how long that’ll last.”

: “Hmm… does he care though?”

: “Cared enough to find six Angels and then lie to them about the current state of the world, with some other plan in mind so… hard to imagine he doesn’t care, at least.”

: “He cared enough to stop Salme and I from entering the shrine.” His voice is a rough growl…and then he blinks at Aurelius, spoiling the effect. “What’s an angel?”

pauses, thinking.

: “He does not care enough to fix broken things. He may have absconded with others. After our journeys here, it is possible we would need to return to free the others he has taken.”

: “Hmm…….”

: “So if you think of a world as like… a play that is performed for the amusement of its creator… Then an Angel would kind of be like the play’s lead actors?”

: “I do not wish to perform for either of their amusement.” He’s back to growling.

: “I’m not actually convinced! He cares about something, but somehow I don’t think the actual state of the worlds is it.”

: “So the cool thing about Angels is that they’re more like, improv actors. Nothing is keeping ‘em from sticking to the pre-written script.”

: “When I spoke with him, he mentioned that the Beast had ‘arrived at an answer.’ He cares about the worlds, but not for them. Any world would do, as long as it was built to his standard, it seems.”

: “Mm.” He glowers at the fire, mopping up the last of the stew with some bread. “He dislikes…mess.”

raises an eyebrow.

: “He definitely chose a wrong set of people, then. I think I can say that in acceptance of each of our extremes.”

: “Hahahaha.”

: “He wanted to deprive our worlds of us. That much seems certain. Deprive us of knowledge–because clearly travel between worlds does not require memory loss. What exactly he wished gain by that, I have no clue.”

rhymically, gently pats Ĉasid. “Extraplanar beings sure are troublesome.” He then begins to laugh, hopefully not stirring the kitten too much.

: “Perhaps, he wished you not to light the fires that have been lit before. It is a mystery to us for now. All we can do is try to save the worlds we have.”

: “Aye. The path is before us, and we walk it to its end. But not knowing the shape of my enemy is bothersome.”

: “Make enough trouble, and they will appear. You’re lucky I’m around!” He winks.

: “Yes, perhaps you can…dampen his spirits.”

: “‘eyyyy.”

: “Eyyyyy!”

gives a thumbs up.

laughs quietly, with a facepalm. “Goddess bright.”

: “Turns out Mr. Yeresh is a pretty funny guy after all, who’d of thought?”

gives Aurelius a dry, amused look. “You do realize that dealing with people is quite literally my vocation.”

: “Well sure, but that doesn’t strictly mean you got a good sense of humor. Or have had much opportunity to exercise it in a while.” He gives a slight smile before finishing what’s left of his bread.

tilts his head in acknowledgement. “It’s not all Rites and serious business, is all.”

: “It’s probably also things like- crop planting formations, being the pie judge at a fair, being a relationship advisor.”

gives the Awoken a bit of a sharp look at that last bit. “Yes, basically. It’s…well, whatever needs doing.”

: “Pie judge… That’s a pretty good perk.”

laughs. “When all the pies are good…”

laughs as well.

: “Ahahah… _{oh man, we should have had a pie.} “

leans back on his hands. “There was one festival where someone had the bright idea to mix fruit, vinegar, and noodles for their pie filling…”

: “Oof, what?!*”

: “Ooof.”

shrugs, laughs. “And, of course, the good yeresh can’t just spit the thing out…feelings would be hurt.”

shrugs. “Flavors are so complicated.”

snorts.

gives Unua a curious headtilt. “I have not wanted to pry, but one has been curious…”

: “Endjinn do not experience flavor the same way other humans do. Though, when I was on Almachadta, the food was uniquely delicious, in a way that food on the Beast had not been to me. Endjinn also have…looser dietary requirements. I could survive for weeks on stones, if I had to.”

: “We also do not need to eat nearly as frequently. I have been keeping food that will stay for the journey, and food for Ĉasid. Sometimes I also eat.”

: “Ĉasid?”

: “I feel like in the grand scheme of things it’s not too different on a base level, hard to imagine there’d be as many Endjinn Iron Chefs as there are if not, they just have… such… a wider range… of materials and flavor intensity… they consider acceptable…” There’s just a hint of regret in his voice as he trails off.

gestures at the kitten, “the fearsome predator.”

mews at Wolf.

laughs quietly. “Ahh, I wondered. A lovely name. Does it have a meaning?”

: “Ĉasid is the little hunter. You see they have caught their first live prey today.”

is curled up very smugly on the Awoken, yes.

: “Truly ferocious! Be ware about making yourself horizontal.”

: “Stones though.”

: “Can you… man I’m not even sure. Can you give some kind of approximation compared to uh… organic food?”

: “Much less pleasant. But the crunch is satisfying. It tastes…of minerals? The way we consume food obliterates most flavors. Endjinn are born of fire, after all. I would not recommend eating stones. But they taste more earthy, less burnt, and much…chalkier than plants.”

: “Endjinn can also eat most food raw, as our consumption process cooks the food as it is absorbed. It is important to remember to cook food for humans to their specifications.”

nods seriously.

: “Some Endjinn are social enough that they grow accustomed to eating regularly and develop a more nuanced palate. I…am not.”

emerges from the Ziggurat, tripping on a bedroll as she does so. She stumbles, saves the stumble, and calls out, “is there still … food?” a little plaintively.

: “So long as you’re comfortable with it! And you’ve done quite well for thinking of others.”

: “Friend-Salme! Come, eat!”

looks up to spot an upside down Salme. “Still warm! Mind the puddles.”

waves to Salme, beckons her over.

mews at Salme, still adamantly curled up on the Awoken’s chest.

: “Puddles?” she notes the vague dampness around her, and shrugs, making a beeline for the stew pot. But first, she looks at Unua. “Light keep you for having the sense to make sure we’re all fed.” She gives them a quick, one-armed hug, before helping herself to very much stew.

leans into the hug, and does the awkward half hug while seated. Which is significantly less awkward, because they’re so tall. “I have spent a long time with humans. They eat much more frequently than we do. But you were all very busy, so I thought it best to set up camp.”

sits up straight. “Friend-Awoken, should I demonstrate our previous conversation for Friend-Salme?” You could SWEAR they’re smiling right now, but the faceplate doesn’t change.

settles on the other side of Awoken, and eats a couple spoonfuls of stew very quickly before she thinks to slow down and savor it. She doesn’t interrupt Unua, but she does look at them with a profound gratitude.

: “Hah! Speak ill of the dead, for I do not care, I am but a morsel now.”

: “We were speaking of how Endjinn eat.” Unua deliberately picks up a small rock, holds it over the fire, and tosses it into their mouth. You hear a crunch and see some black smoke emit from their mouth. “It’s not ideal, but our dietary requirements are…less strict.”

: “Hm.” She thinks on that for a moment, one hand reaching out toward the kitten in offering. “Do certain rocks taste better than others? And did you get a chance to try the irrica?”

: “Now I wonder what irrica would have tasted like to you–“

: “None of them taste particularly good. But most food doesn’t either. I did buy a few pieces of irrica…but I am currently loathe to part with it. I will try some when we return.”

gets up juuuust enough to stretch their head out and nuzzle and snoofle at Salme’s hand!

scritches their cheeks, right at the cheekbone, expertly, then gets under the chin with her index finger. “I’ve seen you collecting some stone. I assume they’re not snacks then. A hobby?” her hand wanders away from the kitten to give the Awoken’s scalp a couple quick scritches too, and then she reclaims her hand for another careful bite of stew.

was going to complain, but if she’s giving the Awoken scritches too then that’s okay. Instead, they just mew and curl back up again on his chest.

: “ ^Mew! “

: “Small carvings. It gives me something to do while everyone sleeps.” They pull out the Irrica bird they bought in Kesseg, and along with it, several other, simpler bird carvings.

: “The irrica will be for when I can make better shapes. Or for when I carve a more familiar one.”

: “Oh, neat!”

: “Oh. They’re beautiful. Do the birds hold any special meaning, or did you just like the shape?”

: “It was a new kind of friend that I made in the forest. I was happy for their company while you slept. There are birds on the Beast. But larger and fiercer, mostly.”

: “It sounds like everything on the Beast is larger and fiercer. Except the trees?” She’s addressing Unua, but spares a glance Aurelius too.

laughs. “The trees are strong, but not large nor fierce. Though those plant-monsters were of a respectable size, don’t you think, Aurelius?”

: “Mmm. Well. I suppose strictly speaking the people aren’t necessarily larger, and their fiercerness being greater is… debatable…” He gives Salme A Look.

nods to Unua.

nods back. Again, you’d swear there’s a smile there.

meets Aurelius’ look with a broad grin, a bit of pride in her eyes, and then takes another bite of stew. “Do you like it? The Beast, I mean.”

: “It’s a great place to not eat rocks at.”

: “That’s one heck of a recommendation.”

: “Glowing. I’m awash in anticipation.”

: “Ah, naw, it’s great. Get to fight big monsters, get to see weird machines, all the farmland you could possibly ask for, more trains than you’ve ever seen in your life… should definitely catch an Iron Chef competition while we’re there if we happen the land at the end of the month.”

Wolf’s comment startles a laugh out of her. “I assume there are many places that are great to not eat rocks at, but I was mostly asking Unua.”

nods. “Even if you don’t like to eat, the Iron Chefs are amazing to watch.”

: “Dare I ask what they’re making for food?”

obviously knew that from the expression on his face, but it certainly didn’t stop him from answering while Unua ruminated on the question regardless.

sets down her stew bowl long enough to launch one, two, three crumbs at Aurelius. She’s trying to see if she can get any of them down his shirt.

: “Depends on the show in question, could be anything really. Not knowing in advance is half the fun.”

laughs. “I mean…is it called ‘Iron Chef’ because the chefs are made of iron? Because they’re…cooking…it?”

(It’s probably very easy to get crumbs inside of an open vest, yes.)

: “I think it’s in reference to the cooking implements…? Huh, never actually thought too hard about where the name came from, it’s been around longer than I have.”

(nevermind, she’s aiming for the ears instead)

: “Yes, Friend-Salme, I like the Beast. It is indeed a great place to not eat rocks at.” They laugh a little. “It is warm there. It is where home is. Where my people are. Where my duty is.” Then, to Aurelius, “Iron Chef predates even the Endjinn, I believe it to be a reference to the tools of the kitchen being their tools of battle. Though, I am partial to Chef Julieno, as he is Endjinn.”

laughs. “The truth appears to be half-and-half!”

flicks the ear from side to side defensively. What a pain to dig out that would be.

: “Oh yeah, he does have a flair for showmanship few others do.”

: “Do you have a favorite, Aurelius? Is this a thing where favorites are selected?”

: “Hmm…” He tilts this way and that, crossing his arms over his chest as he attempts to extract a memory. “Selecting a favorite is half the point, even… Hmm… I think mine was… Chef Lauritz…?” He nods to himself after a moment.

looks to Unua, to see if they have a reaction to that.

nods approvingly. “A stellar choice.”

: “Well, I am looking forward to seeing this … Iron Chef competition? And I am looking forward to meeting your home, Unua. And your people.”

: “As am I.” He looks thoughtful. “I admit I’m interested in learning if other worlds have Great Songs like Almachadta.”

: “Everyone on the Beast is my people. But yes, there are many more Endjinn as well.” They look at the bird statue one more time before replacing it in their pocket. “I am looking forward to many things, but especially to being warm again.”

: “The Beast has a song that is sung from the heart of the world. I used to be able to hear it, wherever I walked.”

gives Unua a startled look. “You could? Could you hear Almachadta’s?”

pulls out one of those sweet fruits from almachadta from somewhere and begins to eat it while raising at eyebrow at Unua.

shakes their head. “Not as such. I might have been able to learn to pick it out, with another hundred years of practice. But I was born in the heart of the Beast. I have listened to the song it beats since I was first forged.”

: “Mmm.” Something in his expression as he looks at Unua suggests he’s doing a little bit of reassessment. “You and I are much alike, then.”

: “Perhaps. You are the world-singer. I know only the song of my home. I will be excited for you to hear it as well.”

gives a small smile. “Only one world, so far. Perhaps I will not be able to hear Samudra’s song, or the Beast’s, any more than you could hear Almachadta’s. It would be a strange thing.” He rubs the back of his neck. “For I have never not heard Almachadta’s, for as long as I can remember.” He frowns. “I hope it will not be like the horrid silence of the Sanctuary.”

: “An unnerving silence. It did not sit well with me. I think you will hear the songs of the worlds very well, Friend-Wolf. Especially one whose heart is fire. It must be similar to your Embers.”

: “For whatever it’s worth, Wolf, I also think you’ll hear the Song.”

: “Hah. Well, you’ll still have plenty of ambient noise on Beast, unlike in Sanctuary. We’re not a quiet people.”

: “Parties? Battles? The fury of being alive?”

arches an eyebrow in Aurelius’ direction, one which implies ‘noted’ very heavily, and adds, “it may be difficult, but not impossible. Nothing is. And if anyone can do it you can, Wolf.”

glances over at the pile of leathers, still curled around its ball of tenebrous gnosis. “A world with a heart of fire…”

: “Oh. That reminds me!”

: “Oh, you’re right.” Unua spoons two more bowls of stew, one smaller than the other. They leave one next to Archie, and take the other to the lamp post and leather. “Friend-Ember, I do not know if you eat. But our meals are always to be shared.” Unua sets the bowl by the pile.

: “The song we heard when we arrived here sort of… implied the creature’s name was Ember, right? And… I vaguely remember hearing mention of Ember Priests on Almachadta…? When I mentioned it to Tsen, he said I should ask the Yeresh about it for more insight.”

cranes his neck up to look at Wolf, curious.

blinks, then draws himself up a little. “‘Ember-Priest’ is another name for the yeresh, yes. We are all of us…priests, yes, you could say, of the Lady of Embers, She-Who-Keeps-the-Fire.” He looks rather disturbed, as long-held memory starts to cross-interface with newly-held knowledge. “She is the beginning and the ending, the forest fire that wakes the ash-buried seed, the death that feeds.” ⁂

slips into a quiet cadence as he speaks, seemingly unthinkingly. “Song-guided, we walk the land; peace-keepers, fire-lighters, blade-pruners, harmony-makers. We take the embers from the sacred hearth to light new pyres…” He shakes himself a little, looks up at Aurelius. “That…that is an old, old rite, one of the oldest.” He looks over at the little pile, smiles–but his brow his furrowed. “Where their hearth is, I know not. But a hearth there is. I can feel it.” 🙧

: “Hmm…”

had taken out the Mask when she had seen Wolf draw himself up, had slipped it on, had listened attentively as he spoke. She now removes it, but she is smiling at him. Fiercely. Proud.

catches the smile, and returns it, almost shyly, with a little duck of his head.

: “So this could be your Lady Ember… or perhaps another Ember-Priest that forgot their name…? Curious how they ended up here, in the middle of the void… with naught but a pile of leathers, a Mirror Between Worlds, and, most baffling, a lamp-post, in either case.”

chuckles softly. “If they were the Lady of Embers, I hope that I would know. I, ah…I have heard her voice. Once, and only once, but it was one of the few things I could remember in the Sanctuary.” His expression grows grim. “Her voice was that which told me the world was dying.”

: “Oh. Hm.”

: “I do not know what they are, or what part they have to play in all of this, or how they came here.” He shrugs. “But there is a part for them yet to play.” He looks into the fire, eyes going distant. “The purpose of the ember is to burn, the purpose of the seed is to grow…” Though you all understand him with perfect clarity, the shape of his words is the strange language of Ember’s song.

: “Could simply be that Ember is the Ember with which is sung! The adorable concept.”

: “If it … helps. I can’t remember if I told you or not, Wolf, but the Mask–when I was in that Sanctuary, it recognized you as ‘Wolf-of-the-embers’ before it recognized you as anything else. A yeresh has never been a Sword-Saint, but they have always been–in symbiosis with one another? And the Mask showed me … an image of a yeresh dancing through fire.”

blinks at Salme. “Wolf-of-the-embers, hm?” He laughs a little, though it’s a little unsure. “I seem to be picking up epithets like Unua picks up rocks.”

helpfully, Unua lifts up another rock.

laughs at that, and smiles.

: “At least it’s epithets and not personalities,” gesturing at Aurelius, “or plots,” she scritches Awoken’s head again, “or strange devices,” she gestures in Archie’s direction.

looks over at Archie. “Poor thing. Um. Do you think we should bring him some stew?”

: “Hey. Some of us can multi-task.”

: “ ^Mew! “

.

: “I think we should not disturb him while he works. Though I’ve never seen someone … move … quite so quickly or constantly while doing. Whatever he is doing.” Her tone is awed, though, not critical.

: “It reminds me almost of the song-trance, that yeresh can sometimes slip into. Where time ceases to exist, and all that remains is the work to be done. That kind of…consuming focus.”

: “Quite impressive, our friend is. He will eat or sleep when he feels he can. His meal and tent are ready for him, should he have opportunity. Your bed-rolls are in the Ziggurat. So are the tents…if you wish them? It seems unlikely to rain inside the Ziggurat. You should make sure to rest while we are still able.”

picks up the little hunter. “It is also time for you to let our friend go. You have done well today.”

: “Mmm.” Wolf stifles a yawn. “Now that we’ve been well fed, being well-bed seems to be a good next stop on the agenda.” He grins a little at that pun, then stands and stretches–you can hear his knees pop. “Agh. Goodness. Get some rest, my friends.” For no apparent reason he looks directly at Aury, the Awoken, and Salme when he says that. “We have much to do on the morrow, for the road awaits.”

takes a deep breath, and a bit of color comes back to his face.

thinks, ‘yes, this is good advice from my stalwart comrade Wolf.’

mews with performed indignance and whisker-wiggles farewell for the moment.

gives the lifted kitten one more whiskerpat before sitting up like a newly-risen dead.

holds his arms up defensively. “I was absolutely planning on getting some sleep before we land in the new world, pops.”

gives Aurelius a very dry look. “If you make calling me your father a habit, I will take that as permission to discipline you.” He laughs, spoiling the effect on purpose. “Besides, I’m not that old!”

waves at the kitten as they are whisked away.

: “I am!” Unua helpfully chuckles

: “Ahahaha, haha… ah, sure. sure.”

: “Just affecting the tired old dad persona as part of the job, yeah?”

snorts. “I assure you, the tiredness is very real.”

: “I getcha. There’s a young pup in there still, I know there is.” He gives Wolf a confident, knowing nod.

: “Fair enough, hah.”

: “Sage advice as always Wolf-Brother. I’ll consider following it.” She winks at him. She looks extremely pleased with herself.

snorts at Salme’s words and tosses off a lazy wave as he heads towards the Ziggurat. “Just try not to make any more fountains, hm?” He laughs. “A good night to you all.”

: “Damn.”

rolls to his feet, ready to be alive again. He’s probably not even damp, anymore!

: “If you wish to add a fourth to your dance card, romance needn’t come in threes, Aury,” Salme tells him, wisely. “Though I won’t be able to follow you there.”

dryly, “Right, sister’s a line too far to cross.”

looks to Salme, and there’s almost an audible ‘thunk’ as a set of gears turn, once.

is shocked for a second, and then bursts into bright, bright peals of laughter.

sure as hell isn’t keeping his laughter in check once someone else starts.

pauses, right as he enters the Ziggurat, hearing the peals of laughter–though not knowing the cause. He smiles, closing his eyes and listening to the music of it for a moment, before heading in to bed.

starts to giggle and then it’s full-on laughter. May it echo throughout the endless inbetween.

doesn’t quite understand the laughter, but as they’re cleaning up the fire and cooking equipment, makes sure to give the three of them a thumbs up, as it has been Aurelius’ gesture of choice recently.

just laughs harder at that, but returns the thumbs up in kind all the same.

can’t help the way she kicks her legs out, almost like a little kid being tickled. She tries to make a thumbs up, but can’t quite manage it.

With the pack repacked, and the pots soaking in some helpful rainwater, Unua makes their bed not far from where Archie is working, just in case. They’ll only need a little bit of sleep and then they’ll be able to keep watch. They lay down and make a small nest of fabric for Ĉasid, and leave a little snack out for them, just in case. In a few hours, they will wake again. By the time the rest of the party rejoins tomorrow, they will find Unua sat up against the ziggurat, chipping stone away from small blocks shaped like birds.