“Thank you for saying that I ran away,” Nathan said drily.
“I call it like I see it.” Sen tried to smirk, but her expression was too serious for it to work. “What even happened in there, Nathan?”
“Politics, mostly. And an offer I didn’t expect to be made in a thousand years,” Nathan said.
The two of them walked along the battlements of the inner wall of Gharrick Pass. Spring had nearly arrived, and the only snow was visible within the nearby mountain line itself. Slush and mountain covered the hills and ran along the ditches.
Nathan’s soldiers had dug small streams to redirect any runoff away from the fortress and the pass. Most of these streams bubbled with water, and a small lake had formed south of the fortress.
Buds formed on the trees as the local flora prepared for warmer weather. It would be weeks before the mountains were warm enough that the Gharrick Mountains were safely traversable by large convoys or an army. But for everybody else, spring was effectively here.
“I’d never seen a dark elf before that weird one who came with the princess,” Sen said. She made a funny face. “Her name was Nurevia, right? I feel some odd emotions about her. And not the most positive ones.”
“That’s unsurprising. She preyed on weakness, but also wanted others to exploit her weakness.” Nathan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Was talking about the old Sen really a smart idea?
“Weakness, huh. I get the feeling I was weak. Is that the difference between me and who I used to be?” Sen asked.
Exactly the sort of question Nathan didn’t want to talk about now.
He looked Sen in the eye and realized that she deserved the answer, even if he felt uncomfortable giving it.
“Mostly, yes. You have access to the same power that you once had, but the difference is that you didn’t have to pay the horrific price for it.” Nathan paused, choosing his words carefully. “Even after you joined me, there was still pain. That’s what it means to live in a dying world.”
“Yeah. I get that feeling. So often I wake up, realize where I am and just… feel this endless sense of relief. I can wander a forest without worrying that a band of demons will ambush me. Everybody I care about is still alive—at least those that matter to me right now. Every day feels almost relaxing, even though I know we’re preparing for war. Ifrit chews me out about it, but I find it really hard to get sucked into the doom and gloom feel when I know how much worse things can be.” Sen’s eyes gazed over the edge of the wall, as if they were gazing into an abyss.
Nathan placed a hand on her shoulder, and she smiled up at him.
“And that’s why I’m worried about you,” Sen said. “You look a little lost right now.”
“I am a little lost right now,” Nathan admitted.
Letting out a sigh, Nathan bent over and leaned against the edge of the wall. It was cold. He felt the chill seep through his officer’s jacket and into his arms but ignored it.
Right now, that feeling helped calm him down. It was the same as pummeling his back with hot water in a shower to focus his thoughts or pinching his wrist to distract himself. A strong physical sensation to keep him focused on something real, instead of the endless whirlpool of thoughts in his head.
“Oh,” Sen said.
She remained silent after that. Unlike him, she leaned her back against the wall. Her red coat was thicker than his jacket. At some point over winter, she had lined it with fur from wolves she had hunted in the mountains.
Minutes passed.
“You don’t have to stay with me, you know,” Nathan said.
Sen hit him in the side. He glanced at her with a raised eyebrow.
“You realize that I love you, right?” she said, glaring at him. “That I don’t stay with you just because of the cool magic lessons or that you’re great in bed?”
“You’re saying I’m not great in bed?” Nathan said.
“Well, it’s been a little harder this week since you got a mysterious package upgrade, meaning we haven’t been able to do some of the things we usually do.” Sen leered at him, but her expression quickly returned to concern. “But that’s not what I meant. Don’t dodge my point.”
“I love you too, Sen. I’m just saying that you don’t need to hang around in the cold while I think about things.”
“You mean while you mope,” she teased. A few moments passed, her attempt at humor falling flat. She sighed, and Nathan felt her hand on top of his head.
Why did his girls feel the need to try to pat his head when they wanted to comfort him? Was it a need to get back at him for constantly patting their heads?
“I don’t know how to help you now, besides being by your side. Politics is way beyond me. I’m struggling with the crazy magic stuff you and Ifrit are teaching me.” Sen cleared her throat. “But, uh, maybe somebody else can help you?”
A few moments passed, and the hand on top of Nathan’s head grew noticeably warmer.
As in, warm enough that he worried Sen was casting a spell.
Nathan looked over at her, then relaxed.
“Oh, it’s you, Ifrit,” Nathan said. “It’s been a while.”
“Indeed,” a much deeper tone said. It sounded like Sen, if she swallowed a bucket full of gravel, lit her throat on fire, and aged twenty years. Not quite masculine, so much as a very throaty and deep version of Sen’s voice, with an edge of fire to it.
Ifrit had taken control of Sen’s body, and the effect was noticeable. He stood differently. Back straight, shoulders wide, no slouch, and hands behind his back. His expression was odd on Sen’s face, as it tried to appear both inquisitive and suspicious as the same time, but Sen was a young woman, so it mostly made her look silly.
“Is talking to me your idea, or Sen’s?” Nathan asked.
“Both. You’ve been troubled lately, and the events of the cascade bothered me.” Ifrit smiled at Nathan using Sen’s body. “A chat would be nice, regardless. While this troublesome child keeps me entertained, I do appreciate talking to somebody else from time to time.”
“Fair.” Nathan fell silent.
Moments passed.
“This is the part where you talk about your problem, or problems,” Ifrit said.
“You’re doing a great job coaxing me into feeling secure and comfortable talking about my deepest, darkest issues,” Nathan drawled.
“I have lived too long to spend my time playing psychiatrist. And I can tell that you have issues that you want to talk about, but don’t because people will not understand. So, out with them,” Ifrit said. He waved Sen’s hand in the air in a circular motion, gesturing for Nathan to get on with it.
The air grew warmer around them due to Ifrit’s presence. Even through Sen, the spirit’s power could be felt simply by proximity. Nathan no longer felt the chill of the wall in his arms.
He leaned away from the wall and faced Ifrit. “Have you ever wondered if the things you do have no impact on the world? That everything would play out the same even if you did nothing?”
Ifrit raised an eyebrow. “That’s an odd statement for a Bastion with your status and power to make. Few people can say they’ve influenced Doumahr as much as you have in so little time. Isn’t that why the dark elves came to you?”
“But does it matter in the end?” Nathan said, frustration leaking into his voice.
No answer.
After a few moments, Nathan turned away. “Ifrit, do you believe in predetermined events?”
A harsh intake of breath, followed by a long silence. “I had my suspicions. There are few ways to traverse timelines, and fewer still to alter memories. You showed limited promise in both, given your knowledge of spatial and mental magic. Even so, I find it difficult to believe that you would speak of this topic without external interference.”
Nathan shifted uncomfortably, unwilling to look at Ifrit.
“Do not worry. I’ve cut off Sen’s senses for the time being. I assume there is good reason you have left her unaware of your invol
vement with the Messengers,” Ifrit said.
Damn, so he did know. At least, he did now.
“It’s not something I want to burden any of my Champions with,” Nathan said, looking at Ifrit.
“A smart decision. Although I hope it’s one you made voluntarily.” Ifrit’s gaze was as sharp as his words. He moved on, and said, “Tell me, what do you mean by predetermined events? Because the way you’ve described them is slightly different to how I would.”
Nathan frowned. “It feels like my actions don’t have any real effect on the world. If I stop something from happening, then it simply happens in a slightly different way. I…” He stopped, realizing he was about to repeat himself. “Maybe an example will help.”
Ifrit gestured for him to go ahead.
“Let’s say a town is about to be crushed by a giant boulder. This happens, but I survive and go back in time to stop it,” Nathan explained.
For some reason, Ifrit’s eyes narrowed at the mention of going back in time. Nathan didn’t question this, but he filed it away for later.
Continuing, Nathan said, “I know about the boulder, so I gather up my friends in the past and stop it.”
“But the boulder returns to its position?” Ifrit offered. “Or perhaps another town is threatened by the boulder?”
“Not quite.” Nathan shook his head. “It’s more like another boulder appears. I know how to stop boulders from crushing towns, so I can stop it. But every time I do, another boulder appears. And another. Eventually, it becomes clear that no matter how many times I save the town, another boulder will appear to destroy it. Nothing I do can change the future. And if that’s the case, does anything I do actually matter?”
“Ah,” Ifrit said, closing his eyes. After a few moments, he gestured for Nathan to walk with him.
They walked along the battlements. A couple of guards gave Ifrit odd looks. Probably because Sen doesn’t walk like an old man, with her hands behind her back and a thoughtful expression on her face.
“What you’re talking about is predetermination,” Ifrit said.
“I know that word, but I don’t know what it means,” Nathan admitted.
“Predetermination is the idea that the future is fixed. That free will does not truly exist and that the fate of the world is inscribed into our very beings. It is the idea that your actions are decided in advance.” Ifrit paused. “Imagine that you approach a fork in the road, but while there appear to be many options, you can only take one. Maybe it appears that you can choose, but no matter what decisions you take, eventually, you end up taking the ‘correct’ road.”
The idea chilled Nathan to his core.
“That sounds a lot like what I’m experiencing,” Nathan said. “I’ve been trying to stop the Federation and Empire from going to war since I arrived, but nothing works. I stopped the demonic invasion that triggered it all, but the Federation attacked anyway. I counterattacked and won, but they refused peace negotiations. Then, even when we negotiated, they still pushed back and tried for war. They triggered the cascade to bring down the Empire. And, after all of that failed, the Spires come out of nowhere and tell me to conquer the Federation.”
Nathan laughed bitterly. He had wasted an entire winter trying to stop a war, only to be made an offer to restart it. And that offer came from the last nation he ever expected to side with the Empire.
“And? What makes that predetermined?” Ifrit said.
“I… what?” Nathan asked, freezing in place.
“You’ve been confused by your Messenger, and I doubt she wants to correct your confusion,” Ifrit said. “But what you’re describing is simply how reality works. There’s a common link behind everything you’ve described, and it doesn’t require a higher power to deny you free will.”
Nathan frowned.
A common link.
Obviously, that was Torneus. Probably. Nathan wasn’t as certain as the dark elves were that the scheming regent was behind the cascade. How could Torneus trigger a demonic invasion and then convince a Bastion or Champion to close a demonic portal?
Regardless, Nathan said, “You’re talking about Torneus.”
“I am. You’re trying a stop a war, but the main driving force still holds the power to cause it. What makes you think the war would stop simply because you stopped a single trigger?” Ifrit asked.
“A lot of things had to happen at once to threaten the Empire,” Nathan said. “And…” he trailed off.
What was this about anymore?
Originally, he had wanted to stop the fall of the Empire in order to prevent the end of Doumahr. Afterward, Kadria had told him that the war he stopped would continue trying to happen because that was the nature of the world.
But his true objective was to stop the demons from overtaking the world. Stopping wars between nations was less important. A war between two countries wasn’t guaranteed to result in the end of the world.
In fact, Nathan had arguably prevented that from happening. Leopold had even pointed out that the open aggression between the Federation and Empire prevented the cascade from being worse. Even if the Federation and Empire went to war, it was possible that both sides fought in a bloody stalemate that led nowhere. The same was happening in the north against Trafaumh.
“I’ve fucked up,” Nathan said. He wanted to slap himself in the face.
Ifrit chuckled. “It is a common mistake that people make. History is often written to make it appear that it happens through a set of amazing coincidences, but the truth is that there are usually many determined people behind the scenes. Events don’t happen because of fate; they happen because of the actions of many people or through the greater will of humanity.”
“Things have gotten worse, though,” Nathan muttered. “If the war had happened normally, I could ignore it but now…” He sighed. “I’ve weakened Torneus’s hold over the Federation. Even if he remained in power, the other regents will turn on him, eventually. It could result in a vicious civil war. If that happened, that may be the hole in the world that allows a demonic Messenger through. The Houkeem Desert is a persistent threat, after all.”
“And? What do you plan to do about it, now that you have wised up to your past mistakes?” Ifrit asked.
Nathan opened his mouth, prepared to make a decisive answer.
Then he closed it and thought for a few more moments.
“I think I might talk to Anna first. And maybe Alice as well. I did imply that I’d ask for help if necessary,” Nathan said.
“And now you really are wising up.” Ifrit clapped Nathan on the back. It felt odd, given he was in Sen’s body.
“I feel like I’m not as old as I think I am,” Nathan said. “Although I look back at my past self and think ‘what an idiot’ with regularity.”
“That feeling never goes away. I look back at myself from only a year ago and question why I agreed to this possession,” Ifrit said drily. “I did have a favor to ask before I return this body to Sen, however.”
“Shoot.”
Ifrit fixed Nathan with a strong glare. “Whenever Sen has magic lessons planned for the next day, please restrain yourself from anal sex. You have no idea how deeply uncomfortable it is to take over her body and provide physical demonstrations for her.”
There was a long pause.
Nathan cracked a smile, then shook his head. “You let Sen hear that, didn’t you? I suppose you’re right that we never stop calling our past selves an idiot.”
A scream erupted from Sen’s body a moment later. It sounded a lot like Sen, rather than Ifrit.
Probably because it was Sen.
“That asshole!” she shouted. “How dare he say that out loud! I even made him promise to not peek on us when we have sex. How does he even know when we do that stuff?”
Nathan imagined there might have been some clues, if Ifrit was taking over control of Sen’s body. Also, Sen didn’t exactly shy away from talking or thinking about sex.
But Nathan wisely kept his opini
on to himself as his little spellblade raged around the battlements, shouting at the top of her lungs.
Suddenly, Sen grabbed Nathan’s jacket by the lapel and said, “We have time before Anna arrives, right? I want to teach him a lesson.”
Nathan stared at Sen as it slowly dawned on him what Sen meant. “Maybe tonight. Anna will be here in less than an hour.”
Sen grit her teeth, but let Nathan go. She grumbled to herself and stormed off.
Straightening his jacket, Nathan pretended that hadn’t happened.
No, that was a lie. He admitted to himself that the docile, meek Sen from his timeline was never coming back. This Sen was entirely her own person, and he loved her for it. Tonight would be a lot of fun.
But for now, he had a noblewoman to talk to. Two, even.
Chapter 28
Narime
A comb ran through Narime’s tails. She repeated the motion, carefully covering every inch of the massive bundles of fur that extended from her backside. The process was repetitive, but one that Narime was familiar with.
She had, after all, been combing her tails daily for over three hundred years now. Within a few winters she would have a seventh tail and her daily ritual would be even longer.
Sometimes, she wished somebody else combed her tails for her. But that would mean allowing somebody else to touch some of the most important and sensitive parts of her body. A mystic fox’s tails were sacred to them. Pure. While Narime had certainly enjoyed herself as a woman before, she never allowed others to despoil her tails.
But she still dreamed about a life where this daily ritual involved another person. She could lay back and moan while his fingers ran through her fur, and he ensured that she looked her best. The idea that someone else cared enough about her to take care of her tickled her heart.
Then she reminded herself it was a dream.
These days, it was a dream with a particular person in them. She disliked that fact because she knew that man wasn’t going to be hers. He belonged to a foreign nation, and their interests didn’t align.
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