Ethan was using Temporal Link a lot, and it put a surprising amount of strain on Ghost, considering what he was trying to do.
He didn't mind it. Whatever Ethan was up to, he was fighting sothing incredibly dangerous; Ghost didn't want to distract him. He considered demanifesting to go help Ethan, even, but the man knew what he was doing and hadn't asked for help—had approved of Ghost's plan, even.
It seed to him that the best thing he could do in the here and now was to find more allies for the upcoming fight.
Ghost might have been capable, but he was well aware of how much experience mattered when it ca to fighting together. He was still new to Ethan and his team, and no matter how much the bond they shared helped, he hadn't had a lot of practice fighting with them yet. If he manifested there now, there was every chance he would end up interfering in his attempts to help.
No. His task here was more important.
Besides, he'd almost figured it out.
In front of him was a ghostly image of a woman that looked almost like she could have been the sa species as Ethan. The main differences were the feathers that replaced her hair and the wings beneath her arms.
And the talons. Ghost was pretty certain Ethan didn't have any talons.
She sat at the edge of one of Isthanok's cathedrals, staring out into the distance. Her breathing was shaky, her cheeks wet with a thin streak of almost-dried tears.
Ghost could sympathize, strangely enough. Not with the tears—he didn't have that particular functionality—but he knew the feeling. It was the sa feeling every looper had in their final loop before they gave up their Trial.
In the monts before Ethan found him, he'd felt like he failed. Like he'd done everything he could, and even with Ethan's help, it hadn't been enough. He thought it was, perhaps, ti for soone else to pick up the mantle.
Now...
Well, he didn't feel that way anymore. One way or another, this was it. He could feel it in the part of himself that was Temporal Link. He was the skill, in a way, and the skill was him; together, they were a manifestation of a power that created impossible bridges in ti.
He reached to the dissonant echo of ti before him, and sothing sparked, then ignited. The thin veil that kept them apart burned away, and the harpy in front of him solidified, becoming real and present.
Almost imdiately, Lilia whirled to face him, talons glinting dangerously. Ghost felt the Firmant rising around her in challenge. Ethan had warned him about Lilia being a bit paranoid.
"Who the hell are you?" Lilia asked, her voice guarded. Ghost tilted his head slightly, considering his response.
"I am Ghost, and I bring a ssage from Ethan Hill," he said.
Her eyes widened, and he knew he had her.
Teluwat was getting suspicious. Guard knew this in part because the Trialgoer had sent Raskar away, citing sothing about the crow not being able to channel enough of his Firmant; instead, he ca to keep Guard company himself, in his so-called true form. Guard wasn't sure if this was an honor the sli king offered many others, but he suspected it wasn't.
For one thing, the form in question was barely holding together. Teluwat was a sli creature wrapped around a skeleton, and Guard couldn't tell if that was his natural form or if his Trial had warped him beyond recognition. Sothing about the ooze struck him as unnatural—the way it clung to itself and to the ground without leaving residue, the way it seed to burn with toxic Firmant. The stone beneath him seed to lt as he moved, sohow corroded into becoming part of his massive, dripping body.
Guard was reasonably certain that all of this was a show. If Teluwat did this to everything he walked across, there would be traces left behind in the stone. He was dissolving the floor by choice, doing it to make a point.
"A pleasure to finally et you in the flesh," Teluwat said, a slightly manic grin spreading across his skull as he spoke. He held up a single, dripping hand, and waited for him to take it.
Guard shook it firmly.
That expression was carved into his skull with Firmant. Teluwat was playing the role of a crazed tyrant, but everything he was doing was carefully calculated. Right now, this was nothing more than an intimidation strategy—he wanted to see how far he could push Guard before he snapped. How much could Guard take, with the history Teluwat had tried to write into his soul?
A lot, in theory. According to what the Void Inspiration had absorbed, they'd been friends for a long, long ti. Physical contact would be hardly unusual based on those mories, but then that physical contact had never hurt. Ɽ𝘼ƝÖᛒÈ𝐬
Teluwat was quite intentionally allowing a little bit of his ooze to burn into the tal of his hand. Guard watched corrosion creep across his hand with feigned disinterest. It helped that so much of the feedback he felt could be controlled by adjusting his sensors—he didn't have to feel pain if he didn't want to.
"You do not usually do this," He-Who-Guards said, keeping his tone carefully neutral. He cocked his head and watched as Teluwat mimicked the motion, makeshift crown nearly slipping off his head as he gave Guard a leering grin. "Have I offended you in so way?"
"Oh, no, not at all!" Teluwat said. "I just need to make sure that you're my friend, you know? You never know with friends, these days. It takes so little for them to turn against you..."
His voice trailed off aningfully. Guard didn't react to the implied threat, even as Teluwat called for his son to co out for what had to be the fifth ti across the loops.
If nothing else, he'd managed to use the constant resets to keep an eye on where Harmony was being kept. Or "Filian", as Teluwat called him. The younger silverwisp had a bedroom of his own, though it was kept in a far corner of the lair-slash-castle that Teluwat called his ho. It was sparsely decorated, but...
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There were paintings in there. Not many of them, no, but enough that it ant that Teluwat had allowed his son so level of life and freedom. Enough that it ant that Harmony's life hadn't just been servitude. There were glimpses who his son might have beco in those paintings.
Maybe it was just his imagination, but he thought he saw a part of Harmony fighting back. The paintings had shadows of a family that wasn't just the sli king of Palus, a childhood that wasn't hidden in swamp and stone.
Or maybe that was just what he was hoping for. Guard knew that even if he could kill Teluwat here and now, it wouldn't fix all the damage that had been done. How long had this been going? He didn't know.
Sotis ti felt like it wasn't real. The Trials had ruined Hestia in far too many ways, the least of which being the things that changed from loop to loop. Guard knew that his son had been born before the loops began, or he wouldn't still be alive. How long before, though? And how much of each life did he rember?
Harmony—Filian, Guard reminded himself, at least for the purposes of keeping Teluwat unaware that he was still himself—ca erged from the corridors like he always did. He glanced between Teluwat and Guard, his flas flickering erratically in confusion. "What's up?" he asked. "What's father doing here?"
"He's just here to catch up!" Teluwat said cheerfully.
In a twisted sort of way, Guard was grateful that Teluwat had adjusted Filian's history leading up to this. He didn't know how he would have reacted if Filian treated him as a stranger, but in order for Teluwat's story to work, he'd had to make so changes. For one thing, he'd rewritten history so Guard had handed him off to Teluwat voluntarily.
In a way, he'd brought Guard back into Filian's life. Not that Guard was about to thank him for it.
"Why don't you co over here, son?" Teluwat said. Guard tensed. That phrasing was on purpose, and Teluwat had done nothing to turn off the corrosive nature of his ooze. The ground still smoked beneath them, an acrid stench accompanying dissolved particles of stone. "I just need to make sure your father's actually one of our allies."
"Why wouldn't he be?" Filian asked, puzzled, but he moved close anyway—and then, faster than he could react, Teluwat grabbed him by the wrist.
And his wrist began to burn.
Teluwat's gaze wasn't on Filian at all, even as the silverwisp scread and struggled to get away. It was on Guard, watching his reaction as he fed him twisted mories through his Talent. mories of a version of himself that would understand this as necessary. mories of a version of himself that was working against Ethan and had sacrificed his own son to do so.
The force of it had multiplied tenfold, too. It was getting to the point where the Void alone couldn't consu it all—that foreign influence was now grating against the defenses on his soul, sparking the defenses he'd managed to pattern into the layers of his core. His Firmant began to flow to defend himself, pouring into makeshift skills that distorted and pushed back the weight of Teluwat's power.
All this happened in a fraction of a second. The Void fed him a cleansed version of the mories helpfully, just as he'd asked. He needed to keep up the act until Ethan could get here, after all.
Except he'd reacted the mont Harmony began to scream. A shining blade of Firmant blazed from his wrist, a construct he'd specifically learned to form using so of the principles of Ahkelios's Concept and skills.
On the floor lay a dissolving blob that was once Teluwat's hand. Guard stepped between the sli king and his son, carefully nudging him back.
He-Who-Guards wasn't going to stand by while his son was hurt.
"Harmony," he said. "I will explain later. But for now, please... stay safe."
Harmony stared at him, and for a mont, Guard was afraid he would argue—or worse, afraid that he would side with Teluwat. But a mont later, his expression darkened, and he nodded, taking a step back before running for his room. Guard felt a thread of relief, even as he turned to face Teluwat.
Teluwat was frowning.
"So you did resist," he muttered. "Were you stalling, then? Waiting for your friend to co save you? How did you manage to resist, anyway? No one's ever done that."
His tone beca mocking.
"No one except your son," he said. "He's got a clever mind, that one. You wouldn't believe how many tis I had to rewrite his past. He kept working his way through it, figuring out that I'm not his real father. I an, he's suspicious of all the ti! Just because I'm made of sli? It's discrimination, I tell you."
"It is because you treat others as your playthings," Guard said. "You cannot rewrite him so thoroughly that he would forget who you are."
Teluwat smirked at him. "Is that a challenge, He-Who-Guards?" the sli king asked, slowly oozing toward him. "Because you should know I've never lost a challenge... and your little human friend isn't here to help you. How much do you think you can do against a Trialgoer?"
He-Who-Guards felt sothing click within him. His sword blazed even brighter.
Who will you be?
Chains erupted from his back, wrapping around Teluwat in a storm of prismatic fury. Half of them simply slamd haphazardly into the room, anchoring themselves in the stone and nearly causing Teluwat's throne room to collapse.
His first answer was simple, and it was true.
For those that would use the lives around them for their own entertainnt, I will be the shadow that haunts their every waking mont. I will be the storm that follows and the lightning that strikes. They will not sleep for fear of the dark.
But it couldn't be his only answer. Guard knew where that could lead—a phase shift made in anger and hatred. He'd seen it himself in a disturbing parallel. A different father, a different life... but Fyran had found it in himself to find his Truth, with Ethan's help.
The presence of their bond helped. The fragnt of Ethan's Firmant within him was like a candle that persisted in the storm of his rage, and it reminded him just enough of what he needed to do and who he needed to be.
He still believed what he said, but he was more than that.
I will be that which protects the hearts of the innocent. I will be the safety of their hos, the walls that guard a city against the monsters that may threaten it. I will be the light when all seems dark and the hope when all seems lost.
Guard stared up at Teluwat, and the last part of his answer ford like a prayer.
And I will be everything and every mont that you stole from us. Every lost dream, every broken mory, every comforting mont after a nightmare. Every painting we never painted, every al we never shared.
I will be a father again.
The Firmant within him answered his thoughts with a roar of power that shook the foundations of the castle beneath him. His second phase shift coalesced, burning with a raw, prismatic torrent of fla that took the shape of a silverwisp. His old form burned around him.
Teluwat's smile faded. "That's... a lot of Firmant."
Every chain in Guard's grasp burned with the sa prismatic fla. He saw the mont Teluwat winced, saw the mont the Trialgoer began to take him seriously.
"You asked how much I think I can do against a Trialgoer," Guard said. The chains tightened in his hands, and Teluwat flashed backward using so sort of spatial skill, suddenly intent on avoiding him. Sli began to flow from the cracks in the ground to join with the sli king's body, forming layers of defensive ooze.
"My answer is simple." Three more chains ford, each one cutting off the available space and burning with the sa power. Guard stepped forward, his sword blazing ever brighter. "I can do enough."
Teluwat flinched. He reached out to activate a skill.
And so did He-Who-Guards.
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