Revant materialized the mont Northern called him. He was an Echo, after all—summoned at will, bound to appear.
He stood there for a mont, head tilting left, then right, taking in the construction happening around them with open curiosity. Workers moved timber and stone. The skeleton of walls rose from freshly cleared earth.
"You're building a new ho?" Revant frowned. "I'm not living with you this ti around."
Northern chuckled lightly.
"You needn't. But you do have to pay taxes for existing thanks to ." He spread his hands in mock generosity. "Not only was your existence made possible because of , but you went and killed yourself, then I brought you back again."
Revant gave Northern a cold glare.
"You're finally coming out of your shell. I like that."
"Whatever." Revant waved off the observation. "Since you rember your na now, Hael, does that an you also rembered the person who killed you?"
Revant hissed through his teeth. "You don't have to call sothing that feels foreign to your mouth. I have been stigmatized by sothing else. As good as the na sounds, I feel different…" He looked down at his own hands for a mont. "I'm a long way past who Hael was."
Northern chuckled again. "That has to be the most mature thing I have ever heard you say. Actually, have I ever heard you say anything?"
"I am irritated by every bit of your soul. Speaking to you feels like I'm going to vomit." Revant's lip curled. "I have to wash my bedsheets twice a day, by the way. You don't even provide basic anities. You make us like humans but expect us to live like monsters."
Northern paused for a mont. The complaint was valid, but it was also… unexpected. Of all things to complain about. Bedsheets. The Echo who'd once torn through enemies without a word was standing here talking about laundry.
"You guys sleep?"
Revant looked at Northern with the shock of disbelief.
"You don't?"
Northern shrugged. "I an… who doesn't? Not that I'll die if I don't sleep, but sleep works for . I just…"
Revant waved, not wanting to hear anymore. His expression shifted, sothing calculating sliding into place behind his eyes.
"I have looked forward to the day where I will gain my freedom," he said, almost to himself. "I searched through so mories of yours, and I discovered that I could actually get a lot of money for selling organs. It's a very creative way to make money. If no such market exists here, I'll introduce it as a business and make every dark market jump on it. I'll profit off them…" He drifted away in thought for a mont, gaze going distant. "Hmm. But I will need a doctor who can perform transplants…"
"I do have a doctor."
Northern had spoken before he realized what he just did. The words hung in the air between them.
Revant looked at him, genuinely shocked for once. "You do? Like the one from your forr world?"
Northern nodded slowly, a devious grin spreading across his face. "Sothing close. But I believe even better." He let the pause stretch. "Of course, he won't co for free."
Revant was stronger now, but he still wasn't stronger than Northern. He was still a tough one to deal with, though. By now, it was crystal clear where his loyalty lay—or rather, where it didn't. His obedience was transactional at best. His personality was going to make him a headache to control no matter what leverage Northern held.
'I don't have the ti for debates and reinforcing control. Let's just give him cheese and close the trap.'
"You could do anything you want with him," Northern said, keeping his voice casual. "Expand your business however much you want. I won't interfere, as long as I don't hear 'I'm busy' when I call you." He held up a finger. "However, your profit from that business—you owe ten percent. Tax commission."
Revant frowned in defiance. "What? You're not even—"
"The governnt?" Northern cut him off with a smug smile. "I'm your governnt, Revant. Deal with it." He shrugged, letting the smugness settle before dangling the real bait. "Actually, you can turn down the doctor and go find your own. But this doctor is from the age of the first civilization."
Revant's eyes widened. Sothing shifted in his expression—not just interest, but hunger. Raw and imdiate.
"You an… from the ti of Tombs?"
Northern paused for a mont.
'Right. He must've gotten his mories back just like Bairan.'
"Well, yes… that ti." Northern watched him carefully. "You rember everything?"
Revant seed to consider the question, his gaze turning inward. When he spoke, his voice had hardened into sothing older. "Indeed. I do rember. And I rember my death too, and the person who killed …" His jaw tightened. "That brat. I'll find him."
Northern observed Revant with renewed interest. The Echo's entire bearing had changed—shoulders squared, hands slowly curling into fists at his sides.
"By brat… you an?"
"Prince Phainon." The na ca out like a curse. "He killed ."
"Won't it have been so long already? He'd be dead too?"
"No, he's not." Revant's retort was imdiate and fierce. "Didn't you pay attention to what happens to you if you kill a Titan?"
Northern rembered. "Right. Corruption and becoming a Tyrant." He thought for a bit, pieces clicking together, and looked at Revant with a dawning light in his eyes. "So, it's possible that Prince Phainon is still alive? And is a Tyrant?"
"This is not a matter of possibility. It is certainty." Revant's voice carried the weight of absolute conviction. "He is alive. Sowhere—maybe in the underworld, but he is sowhere. And I will find him." His eyes t Northern's. "And I will kill him."
Northern went silent, just staring.
This was the person that had killed Bairan. Killed Revant. Killed a lot of the Tomb Kings too. And that had been ages ago. Countless years had passed since then. If Prince Phainon had survived all this ti as a Tyrant, feeding on corruption, growing in power…
He had to be goddamn strong now. Viciously powerful. The kind of enemy that required armies, not individuals.
'Thank goodness I'm not going to be dealing with him.' Northern pushed the thought aside firmly. 'I have enough on my plate already.'
Revant looked around once more at the construction, then folded his arms. Whatever dark mories had surfaced, he seed to be tucking them away again, filing them under future business.
"Enough with the chit-chat. I shall consider your terms." His tone shifted back to its usual irritable baseline. "However—why did you call ?"
Northern's attention snapped back to the present.
"Ah, right." He'd almost forgotten the actual reason. "I need you to help relay a ssage to Bairan."
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