The ocean noisily ebbed and swelled against the mountainside as the afternoon sun hung brightly overhead.  Scents of salt and low tide lingered in the air, drafted up miles from the sea below by warm coastal winds.  To many, the sight of the ocean glittering in the sunlight would fill them with a sense of awe or ease.  Lola, however, merely felt bored as she stood secured to the cliffside by her claws.  She’d spent the past three days scaling the mountain itself; the past day and a half of which she’d spent scaling the side that faced the ocean.  The majestic sight of the glimmering waters no longer inspired her; it irritated her.

Perhaps it was exhaustion from traveling such a long distance in a short period of time or the lingering odor of the sea? Her skin had felt as if it were crawling for the past week, the sensation becoming more intense every day, as if to add to her irritation. She’d ignored it the best she could, pushing the annoyance and discomfort to the back of her mind with most of her mental strength.

The clanking of a hammer echoed discordantly, as Amah secured another spike into the cliffside. “Wouldn’t it have been quicker just to have you and Rook fly us all up here?” the buhund called to the former sun spirit.

Lola looked down to see Amah, Venice, and Aurora holding on tightly to the mountainside, the three humans secured by a series of ropes, hooks, carabiners, and harnesses. Rook stuck his head out of Aurora’s backpack, his yellow rooster eyes glaring unamused at the buhund’s suggestion. “Have you ever flown for an hour straight, Lola?” he inquired. “That’s how long it would take me to fly around the mountain and up to the peak, and how long it would take to fly back.  I’ve never been able to last more than half an hour without needing a nap!”

“It’s worth noting that I can’t actually fly in the same manner as a bird,” Amah added. “My current magic only allows me to hover a short distance above the ground. I can’t ascend a mountain with it.”

With a huff the buhund turned her head to gaze out to sea.  The midday sunlight glared off the blue-grey stone, highlighting the star pattern running along its surface. Waves spayed up mist from the cyan waters below, darkening the lower reaches of the cliffside. “I wonder why all terrain on our planet has a pattern in it,” she remarked to herself.

“Abnormal mineral deposits in the soil and stone,” Amah answered back with a grunt. “It’s a remnant from the Days of Devastation, when magic scorched the planet–What on Lumea is shaking the line?”

Both the dog and the Sun Spirit looked over to see Venice trembling violently. “C-can y-you t-two p-please s-save y-your c-conversation f-for w-when w-we’re a-at t-the p-peak?”

Lola suddenly recalled that the carpenter had been anxious before and during their ascent of the seaside mountain.  For days his energy had been tense, scared, angry, and almost frightening to her.  It seemed as if all of his anxiety was finally coming to a head. “Venice, are you okay?” she asked.

He glared at her wide-eyed, his auburn hair standing on end, disheveled.  His face was flushed, the anxious patches of red standing out against his unnaturally pale complexion. “No. No, I’m not,” he hissed. “Can we stop talking, get to the top of this mountain, and get this entire torturous ordeal over with?”

As those words left his mouth, something clicked into place in Lola’s mind. “You’re scared of heights, aren’t you?”

“Yes!” Venice seethed. “I’m scared of heights! Severely! How in the bloody hell any of you couldn’t have figured that out, with how much of the past three days I’ve spent panicking and hyperventilating, is beyond me!”

Aurora sighed loudly. “You do realize you’re going to have to endure another three days of this to get back, right?”

The carpenter snarled as he started unbuckling the carabiners securing his harness.  “Enough is enough. I can see the peak from here!”

With a boisterous crackle, flames shot out of Venice’s palms, propelling him upward at a tremendous rate. As quickly as the fire erupted to life from his hands, he had flown above and over the cliffside, disappearing from everyone else’s view. “Sod it all!” Amah groaned. “Lola, you’d best run after him and make sure he’s alright. Reckless git.”

Lola cocked her head back toward the former sun spirit. “Run? Up a cliff? Doesn’t that seem a little irresponsible?”

“Being a buhund makes you naturally able to scale steep slopes without falling,” Amah explained. “Adding your speed wouldn’t loosen your grip.  Just catch up to him.  Aurora and I will meet you up there shortly.”

The dog rolled her eyes before turning back toward the peak. “Whatever.”

With a loud revving sound, Lola’s legs blurred into a figure eight that carried her up the mountainside, a trail of dust and salt flowing down behind her.  She zoomed past the peak, thrown into the air by her own momentum. Dread momentarily set in as she felt herself hurtling toward the summit below; her unnatural gift gave her otherworldly speed and magical protection from friction, but not from gravity, she knew.  She spotted Venice beneath her, doubled over. “Venice!” she called out.  “Help me out here!”

The carpenter turned his head and glanced up, frozen in horror.  Desperate to slow her descent, Lola kicked her legs as if she was running – her feet blurred into yet another figure eight in a vain attempt to hover. She closed her eyes tightly, anticipating her impact. The rush of adrenaline stopped as she felt a pair of hands quickly but firmly wrap around her ribs. Her legs stopped moving out of reflex.  The pressure of a pair of human arms closed in around her as if someone was holding her, followed by a tremor as if that same person had just landed hard on their feet. “You stupid dog!” Venice’s voice grumbled.

Lola opened her eyes.  The carpenter was holding her tightly in a fashion typically unseen outside of a child clutching a security blanket. “I’m already petrified being up this high,” he whimpered. “Did you want to give me a heart attack and send us both to the Fields of Beyond?”

The buhund sighed in relief. “You’ve got a lot of audacity saying that after what I just watched you do. Please put me down.”

Trembling, Venice knelt to gently set her down on the sun-bleached stone of the precipice’s tip. His expression looked lost as if panic had overwhelmed all of his senses. Concerned, Lola wracked her brain to think of a way to snap him out of the state he was in. A memory from an incident from a few months earlier suddenly surfaced in her mind and she butted him in the gut with her snout. “You remember what you told me during that terrifying storm in Bumi?”

He nodded, his breath rapid and labored. “Deep breaths, stay present.  It’s okay to be afraid, but fear doesn’t last forever.”

Amah grunted loudly as she pulled herself up over the side of the summit. She knelt down and began hammering a spike into the ground in a series of resounding clanks. “Last one for now,” she panted. “How I yearn for the days when my body wasn’t physical.”

Aurora clambered up onto the peak after her, Rook still poking his head out of her pack. “I don’t suppose we have a moment to rest up just a bit?” the musician asked.

The clanking stopped as Amah stowed her hammer into her bag. “A quick drink from a canteen and maybe a little food, but we shouldn’t linger.  The air is thinner here and we’ve already lost enough time with the climb.”

Aurora rolled her eyes and unhooked her canteen from her backpack, frustratedly unscrewing the top and taking down a swig of water. She poured a small amount into her palm and held it to Rook, who stuck his beak in it and began gulping it down. “Venice, can you get me an onigiri out of your pack, please?” Aurora sighed.

His breath slowed slightly, and the carpenter reached into his side satchel and fished out a bundle wrapped in paper.  As he undid it, the packaging unveiled a set of several triangular clumps of rice wrapped in seaweed. “Pickled plum, pickled radish, or pickled fish?” He offered unenthusiastically.

Aurora shuddered. “Plum.”

Venice gently tossed the rice ball to her, the musician catching it with ease before attempting to eat it with a grimace. “Amah, any preference?” the carpenter asked.

Amah dusted the salt off her hakama in annoyance. “I suppose pickled radish, since no one else is eating them.” She remarked as she reached and plucked an onigiri from the bundle.

Venice retrieved a pickled fish onigiri from the set and offered it to Lola. As the acrid scent intruded into the buhund’s nose, she couldn’t help but wretch loudly. “C’mon, it’s not like there’s anything else and you need to eat more than any of us.” Amah scolded.

“Why did they all have to be made from pickled ingredients?” Aurora complained with a full mouth.

Lola took the fish onigiri into her mouth and swallowed it as whole as she could to avoid tasting it. “Because we wanted to avoid them spoiling during the climb. Pickling things keeps them from going bad,” Amah remarked.

“So does currying them, but neither of you seemed to be onboard with that idea,” Venice seethed.

“That’s because you wanted to do the currying!” Aurora protested. “Every time we let you season anything; it ends up ludicrously hot!”

Lola’s stomach turned at the mention of the seasoning. “Please stop talking about curry. It’s hard enough to keep that rice ball down as it is.”

The chakram fastened to Lola’s harness flickered to life with its typical purple glow. “Your conversation makes me relish the loss of my sense of smell,” Spitz’s voice hummed from the weapon.

Lola turned her head to her holster. “First time you’ve talked in days, and this is what you go with?”

“It seemed relevant, but it’s not what caught my attention,” the ancient canine spirit remarked. “I can sense a being made of emptiness nearby.”

The buhund felt her dread from earlier rebound in her chest with almost twice the intensity. Venice and Aurora shot to their feet in a panic. “Mikaboh?” they pled.

The Genesis Chakram flickered. “No, not him. It’s not encroaching like his nothingness is. It’s similar, but not the same. Regardless, it dwells in the cavern below.”

Lola’s eyes scanned the peak, running past the flat surface she’d landed upon earlier, down to its opposite end where a small cave mouth protruded from the stone.  The entryway appeared unnatural, as if it had been carved into the rock by particularly sharp blades or claws.  From an initial glance, the opening appeared to barely be large enough for her to fit through, let alone the three humans in her company. “All that climbing up just to climb down again?” Rook remarked.

Venice groaned in despair. “Please let it be a short drop…”

Lola inched closer to the entryway, sniffing it instinctively. The stone had no scent to it, despite the clear signs that it had been carved into an opening by something or someone. Although it was tiny, a closer glance revealed that the others would be able to fit, albeit tightly. “Let’s get this over with, then,” she grumbled.

She took in a deep breath, arched back on her paws, and threw herself into the hole feet first. Within seconds she found herself tumbling onto a hard, dry cave floor. After taking a moment to regain her composure the buhund looked up to see that the entrance was only a few meters above her; the fall was deceptively short. A faint glow from further down the cavern offered weak illumination to the antechamber she now stood in. “Lola, are you okay?” Amah’s voice called down to her.

Lola turned her head back toward the cave mouth. “I’m fine!  It’s only two or three meters down!” she answered back.

The Sun Spirit dropped down into the cavern, grunting as she landed on her feet. Venice and Aurora jumped down behind her, Rook crying out from inside the musician’s backpack as they touched down. “That’s so deceitful. It looked like a much bigger drop from outside,” Aurora remarked.

The rooster poked his head out of the pack. “Be more gentle next time!”

With a sigh, Aurora reached back and gently pulled Rook out of the bag, kneeling to set him down on the floor. “If you’re going to be fussy, then you can walk yourself the rest of the way there and back.”

Ruffling his neck feathers, the cockerel let out a low growl. Lola ignored him and turned toward the other end of the cavern.  “So, I guess Pythia is down this way?” she commented.

“There’s only one way to find out,” Amah replied as she began striding toward the other end of the passage.

Lola and the others followed behind her, creeping along cautiously in light of Spitz’s earlier warning.  The cave walls grew more and more visible as they walked toward the mysterious light source bit by bit.  As they proceeded, the buhund found herself more and more at unease from the resounding lack of scents.  Most caves had some smell to them, be it minerals, mildew, fungus or underground water – yet all she could pick up were the familiar aroma of her party.  She pondered on whether her nature as a dog was the cause of this anxiety, as their kind identified so many things by smell and smell alone.

Within a few short minutes Amah stopped and held out an arm to keep them from going further. Lola peeked past her to see the path led out to a large nook, a small stone door on the cavern wall opposite them.  Torches of bright blue flames burned alongside it, giving off the first faint aroma Lola had picked up since they entered; quicklime and saltpeter.

Who dares to tread here? Announce yourselves, intruderrrrs! a high-pitched voice bellowed.

A figure dropped down from the ceiling into the center of the nook, its long limbs flailing clumsily as they landed.  It attempted to stand up straight but hit its head on the ceiling, screaming in pain as it did. The creature appeared humanoid, although its arms and legs were unnaturally long.  Its torso was much thinner than what would be healthy for a human, Lola knew. A black dress suit that had to have been custom tailored adorned its figure.  The creature’s sheet-white face was almost blank; no eyes, no ears, no hair. A large mouth seemed to take up a third of its face.

Stupid cavernnn! the being growled, screaming the last word of its sentence. Why didn’t she let me put in more head room when we set this place uppp? Ignore that I did thattt!  State your businessss!

The group shuddered at the sound of the creature’s voice.  “Another Old One?” Venice pleaded.

Amah reached down to rest her hand on the Grasscutter Sword at her waist. “Stay alert!”

Lola unholstered the Genesis Chakram from her harness, the weapon erupting into its familiar violet glow as she clamped it in her jaws. Venice held out his hand, as a flicker of white light materialized a set of metal plates and rods that quickly assembled themselves into a silver crossbow held firmly in his grip. “When in the bloody hell did you learn to do that?” Aurora cried out.

Everyone paused and glanced at the carpenter. “It would have been very nice to know before we started this trip that you had a hammerspace,” Amah seethed.

“Ruark taught me how to do it before we left. I haven’t practiced it enough to hold anything larger than this bow.” Venice defended.

Aurora scoffed and crossed her arms. “Of course. Probably at one of your late-night, extra credit lessons, teacher’s pet?”

The carpenter sputtered. “Well, excuse me for taking learning magic seriously!” he fumed back.

Lola and Amah glanced at each other with annoyance.  The buhund held her paw over her face in embarrassment. “Would you two please focus?” the Sun Spirit demanded.

Seriously. So unprofessionalll! The creature remarked. Where were weee?

“I believe ‘state your business’ was about where we left off,” Amah replied.

Right. Righttt!  State your business! The figure remarked, the force and enthusiasm gone from its voice in spite of it still screaming the last word of every sentence.

The Sun Spirit winced. “We’re here to see Pythia. She left a message for us in a book at the Grand Library of Zaffiro?”

Oh, yeahhh! That sounds perfectly reasonableee! It answered.

Lola’s ears raised at its suddenly relaxed demeanor. “Really?”

No!  I predate the current universe and I’ve never heard anything so ridiculoussss! Prepare to dieee!

The echos of the cavern disappeared from the buhund’s ears as the area around her darkened. Suddenly she was alone, her comrades had vanished from sight and the air turned cold and stale. In the place of the tall creature stood another figure; pale white skin, with long dark hair, dressed in a familiar dark blue coat. The usual wide grin of sharp teeth was plastered across its face. Trivial little doge-kind. It is useless. Everything you do is futile.

Lola felt her heart tighten as terror ran through her entire body like ice. Shaking, she stepped back from the specter. “How are you here?”

We are eternal. Unending. No matter how many times you thwart us, no matter how you sunder our form, we will always persevere, Mikaboh replied. We will toll out judgement against you for your interference, vermin. There is no one here to help you. You cannot stop us. We will make you watch everyone you love die before we are finished with you. When we remember our true name, we will make you suffer, and then all will come to an end!

Trembling, she shakily poised the Genesis Chakram to strike, gripping the weapon tightly in her jaws.  “I won’t let you!” she proclaimed through clenched teeth.

“Lola, what are you doing?” Spitz’s voice called.

She dashed forward with blinding speed, slashing at Mikaboh with the chakram’s glowing, violet edge. “Lola, no!” Venice exclaimed.

Her ears were suddenly filled with the screams of the tall creature. As she looked around she found that the cavern nook was suddenly well-lit, and everyone was still present. Mikaboh had vanished. Ow. Ooooow! Oooooooowww! the being cried.

As she turned she saw the figure slumped on the floor, holding its side. Grey smoke hissed from under its hand, seeping out of what she could only assume to be a wound from the chakram.

“What in the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” Amah demanded. “I had just talked him down! He was going to let us in.”

I let my guard down and you blindside me with an attackkk? You lot are truly awfulllll! the tall figure proclaimed.

Venice darted over to the creature and attempted to help it up. “Please accept our sincerest apologies. I don’t know what got into her,” he apologized.

The buhund shook her head in disbelief. She sputtered as she attempted to grasp what had just happened. “You all disappeared. Mikaboh was here just a second ago.  Where did he go?”

The group glanced at her wide-eyed. “We didn’t go anywhere, Lola,” Aurora remarked. “Are you feeling alright?”

Oh, sureee! Ask how the killer magic dog who cut me is doinggg! I’m sure she’s greattt! the creature griped.

Venice had busied himself attempting a small healing spell on the Old One’s wound. Green light emitted softly from his hands as he held them over the creature’s side. “I’m trying to tend to you!” the carpenter remarked. “I don’t even know if I can heal nothingness.”

You can’ttt. It’ll heal by itself eventually, since I’m eternalll. It still hurts really, really badlyyy, it replied.

Realizing the gravity of what she’d just done, Lola felt herself swell with shame and embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I don’t–”

Save ittt! The creature screeched. Just go see Pythia and get out of my sight! And tell her I’m taking the afternoon off when you see her!

It reached its free arm back at an unnatural angle and wedged its long fingers into the edge of the stone door behind it. With little effort, it slid the doorway open and stepped aside.  Go. On with you.

With a solemn nod to the creature, Amah began ushering the group through the entryway. Lola refastened the Genesis Chakram to her harness before she followed them. The corridor it opened into was dimly lit by fairy fire lanterns hanging from the ceiling, lacking the chemical scent of the torches outside. “Are we going to talk about Lola wigging out and attacking Pythia’s guardian because she thought she saw Mikaboh?” Rook inquired. “It seems like something worth addressing.”

Aurora turned her gaze down toward the buhund. “What exactly did you see?”

Lola shuddered as she attempted to recall her vision. “He was standing in that thing’s place, all of you were gone, and he told me that nothing we do would stop him. He said he was going to force me to watch all of you die.”

Venice leaned over to Amah. “Do you think this was one of the flashes caused by the stress disorder Ruark diagnosed her with?”

The Sun Spirit shrugged. “Perhaps, but Mikaboh has a way of getting into minds if he finds the right entry points. He may have been able to project his form through the guardian, due to them both being Old Ones. Even still it’s odd that only Lola saw him.”

They fell silent as they reached the end of the hallway, the room it exited into was made from solid white stone carved into intricate walls and columns carved with a repeating spiral pattern.  What appeared to be white fairy fires sat suspended above a circle of pedestals outlining an enormous bronze bowl filled to the brim with pale cyan water.  The liquid sparkled ever so slightly under the light cast by the phantasmal flames, almost appearing crystalline in nature.  Aside from the decorum, the chamber appeared completely vacant. “Where is she? Don’t tell me he wasn’t actually guarding something after all that nonsense.” Venice asked.

“You’re right on time,” a voice rumbled throughout the enclosure.

A pair of large white wings emerged from the giant bowl of water, spreading onto the floor beneath it and pushing down to lift up the body they were connected to.  A form sprang forth from the liquid revealing another set of wings, this time wrapped tightly around their owner as if to conceal them. The final, third pair followed behind as the being launched itself into the air above the altar. Its head was a grotesque tandem of three separate faces–a human woman, a falcon, and an elk–topped with long, flowing turquoise hair. The portion of its body visible below its second pair of wings was clearly a set of tentacles reminiscent of a squid or octopus. From what else Lola could see, she assumed there was a good reason that the creature hid part of its form in such a way; what could be seen was horrifying.

“I’ve been anticipating this for many eons,” the being spoke, a single voice sounding from all three of its mouths. “It’s unfortunate that your encounter with my guardian couldn’t have gone better, but this scenario was always the most likely.”

“Are you Pythia?” Lola asked.

“I mean…” One of the creature’s wings spanned over her form as if to present it. “Clearly, I am. It has been too long. I am pleased to see you both again, Amah and Dolores.”

Lola faced Amah, feeling slightly befuddled. “Why did she call me that?”

“It is time you reveal what you know, Amah,” Pythia remarked. “The truth is a resource that you can no longer keep from her.”

It turned to Venice. “Recall the night you met your dog, D’Fiamma.”

The carpenter scratched his head, appearing confused by the oracle spirit’s request. “I mean, I just named her after our old North Star, Dolores; or Lola as it had been nicknamed,” he pondered out loud. “The memory of it just seemed to surface the first time I held her.”

Venice bit his index finger, mulling over what Pythia might be asserting. “Dolores hasn’t appeared back in the sky even after Lola freed the stars from Reanja…”

Aurora sighed in frustration. “I don’t see how any of this is relevant to stopping Mikaboh!”

Pythia’s first and third set of wings flapped violently. “This is a hazard that must be elucidated before I set you on your path. I do not waste my time with games or trickery.”

Amah looked to Venice, then to Lola, her eyes hesitantly avoiding both of them when they looked back. “I should have said something sooner.”

“Mind sharing with the rest of the class?” the buhund snarked.

“You’re a Celestial: the reincarnation of a star,” the Sun Spirit replied. “It’s not a common phenomenon; stars typically reincarnate as new stars when they perish, not as other beings. You were once Dolores, Lumea’s North Star. The Spirit Order has known for a while.”

“Neat to learn, but like Aurora asked, relevance?” Lola insisted.

Rook piped up. “Mikaboh used to govern the stars when he was a High Spirit. Did you forget?” he inquired.

Amah fretted. “He may still have some vague connection to his old domain. We tried to sever it when he was sealed the first time–”

She paused and turned to Lola with a look of horror in her eyes. “He has a backdoor to your mind. Probably only to project himself, but still.  He must have realized it when you faced him on the Broodrail and he’s been biding his time to use it.”

“Indeed,” Pythia confirmed. “This part of your soul’s history does make you vulnerable to the Empty One’s mental projections. However, earthly beings reincarnated from celestial bodies have many great strengths as well. You have the potential to become a powerful magic user. Nevertheless, be wary of what you may see or hear on your journey forward.”

Venice cleared his throat. “Is this why she’s the only white buhund on the planet?”

The oracle paused. “I’m going to make a deal with you, D’Fiamma: if I answer this one irrelevant question for you, you can’t ask any more while you’re in my presence,” she remarked. “In fact, I’ll make the same offer to all of you, since I can foresee far too many interruptions: one question a piece.”

The group looked at one another for a split second then turned back to Pythia, speaking in unison. “Deal.”

The spirit ruffled her wings. “Lola’s coat color is a mutation caused by her unusual soul – powerful souls reincarnated into a strange body have the potential to mutate one’s genetics.  That is why she’s white.”

Rook raised his wing. “No asking for the ending,” Pythia remarked.

The rooster lowered his wing. “Then can I at least know if I’ll be happy a year from now?”

“Happy is a subjective term, but yes. … Mostly.”

Aurora appeared hesitant, her lips tightly pursed as if afraid to ask her question. Her eyes kept darting toward and away from Venice. “I don’t have all day and I know what you want to ask,” Pythia commented. “So here’s your answer: yes, they are a couple. If you ask them about it right now, they’ll only overreact. Only after an unexpected reunion will they be willing to talk about it.”

The musician gave the oracle a quick thumbs up before averting her eyes from Venice, and placing her hands behind her back while softly whistling a nonchalant tune. The carpenter glanced at her with a raised eyebrow before turning his attention back to the oracle.

Lola stepped forward, glancing up and doing her best to not avert her gaze in spite of how difficult it was to behold the spirit’s appearance. “So, we need a prophecy or something to stop Mikaboh? That’s something you do, right?”

“Discarding your unrelated question may bring you regret in the future. Think carefully,” the being remarked.

“I asked you the only question I want an answer to,” Lola replied flatly.

“Young one, I am not one to give out prophecies so rashly,” Pythia explained. “What I see is not one singular timeline. The past is a single straight line because it has already happened, but the future is trillions of different branches and paths with countless disparate outcomes. I see them all. Free will is always a factor, and before I give anyone a prophecy, I must consider the most likely futures and how my input or interference might sway them. I had already made this mistake with Mikaboh many thousands of years ago.”

The tips of her wings grazed the water below, stirring it ever so gently. As it swished about, a faint image of Mikaboh confronted with a cloaked figure appeared on its surface. “In the days preceding the Dire Wars, in the infancy of my existence as a spirit, I realized his true nature,” she began. “Of all of the possible paths I could take, only one seemed likely to lead him to defeat and minimize the carnage he would unleash. It appeared that confronting him with a prophecy would steer him into making a mistake – allowing his capture and defeat by all of the Pantheons of those we once called Gods. So, I gave to him the following prediction…”

The oracle’s words deepened as she spoke. Lola felt as if they were being etched into her mind as she heard them.

“Child of Emptiness, heed these words foretold
Seek you to return this realm to the Ones of Old?
Endeavor as you will, and you may even succeed.
Alas your true victory will never be guaranteed.

Upon your day of triumph when nothing takes hold,
This will be the very day your undoing unfolds.

Daughter of Canis, coated in white.
The light around her cuts through the night.
Marked by the Sun and born among the wheat.
She will be the catalyst that spells your defeat.”

Lola turned back to her comrades to find all of them silent in contemplation. She returned her attention to Pythia. “You meant me, didn’t you? I wasn’t even born then.”

The oracle shrugged. “Perhaps I did, perhaps I didn’t. It was a long time ago, back when I actually put effort into making my prophecies rhyme.”

“Canis – the queen of the wolves – was my mother, Lola.” Spitz remarked from inside the Chakram.

“That long ago, the only one the prophecy could refer to was Spitz,” Amah interjected. “Which is why he kept passive aggressively hinting that I’d lose her when she died and reincarnated. He knew he couldn’t dispose of her outright, and even her reincarnated form posed a threat to him.”

Pythia continued stirring the water with her wings. “My view of the future showed two possibilities if he was given this prediction: the first is that he would panic and inadvertently reveal himself to the other Pantheons. Amah and the other powerful spirits would then join forces and use their abilities to reprimand and seal him away. The second was that he would be driven to be even more cunning than before.  Of all the possibilities I saw, the first was the only one where he would be stopped. So, I took a risk.”

The eyes of all three of her faces met with Amah’s glance. “I saw the other outcome, and I still acted. For thousands of years, I have lived with regret. He manipulated you into stealing the sealed vial of immortality from the vault of the Sky Kingdom to make Spitz undying and protect her from the Dire Wars. It was he who led the Spirit Order to later discover what you had done, resulting in your punishment and Spitz’s soul being sealed in the Stagnant Garden in the Fields of Beyond. His menace does not even stop after he was sealed by yourself and the original Worldly Sages. All eight of their souls remain in the tectonic seal to this day.”

The image in the pool of water shifted to show a young man, a magic user, fighting fiercely against Reanja delle Catene di Ferro.  He fired barrage after barrage of ethereal swords at her, only for her to deflect each and every onslaught. One deflection fired the blades directly back at him, slashing his chin and his eye. It occurred to Lola as she watched that she was witnessing the very battle that had permanently disfigured Ruark. “For some reason I cannot see, he maintains the ability to whisper into people’s nightmares,” the Oracle elaborated. “Even when he was sealed, he manipulated the Da’i Kii and started the War of the Five Tribes, hoping their war would escalate to the point of destroying reality. His plan failed of course, but still resulted in the near-extinction of the Da’i Kii people.”

One of her wings dipped into the water, stirring it gently as the vision on its surface changed again. In the image, a figure in a red cloak and iron mask stood in confrontation with Amah and the other High Spirits, a small army of iron fiends behind them. Douglas Rose, Grandmother, Sitara Song appeared and conjured a wall of trees to block a flurry of chains the figure had launched at the Spirits. “He found yet another pawn in the princess of the Da’i Kii metal tribe, Reanja,” Pythia continued. “He whispered to the emptiness inside her–her crooked ambitions and thirst for power–and pushed her to imbalance the world in a way that would either ensure its demise or at the very least set him free. The Days of the Empty Sky were indeed his doing, even if he used a proxy.”

The images on the pool’s surface continued to shift; displaying Lola evading the Reanja’s attacks to free the sun, moon, and stars; then their confrontation with Mikaboh on the Broodrail. “You have come quite far from where you began and lived through many trials, but the end of this journey is soon approaching.”

The buhund looked up from the pool of water, unsure what the oracle’s words implied. “Will we win?”

The Oracle paused as if to contemplate how to best word her response. “There are many, many possibilities. The future branches in so many directions and none of them are guaranteed to be the one we will be led down. In some you win, in some the world ends, but certain actions must be taken for each to come to fruition. However, the outcome may be bittersweet regardless of what you do.”

A vision of a tower of ancient stone appeared in the pool. “In the Forbidden Plains of Cascadia, within the Sealed Spire, lie secrets and artifacts of great power. One such relic the Empty One seeks is known as the Key of Amon: a device capable of unlocking anything–literal or abstract. He wishes to unlock his name to regain his full power. If he succeeds, with Lumea off-kilter the way it is because of the imbalance in the life and death flows, the emergence of his true form alone will cause reality to fracture. You must try in earnest to stop him from acquiring this item.”

The water’s surface changed again to display the town Lola encountered their deceased loved ones in through the dream world. “Adjacently, the matter of the souls trapped in the dream realm is also of importance. If they are allowed passage to the Plains of Beyond, the imbalance in Lumea’s life and death flows will be corrected; reality will be stabilized,” the oracle continued. “Three among your ranks will need to master the spell Reverser, which will allow you to rend all of the Bogba’el in twain and return the portion of them stolen from the Nightmare Reef to its rightful place. Doing so will create a reverse flow that will allow the imprisoned souls to escape to Lumea’s physical and spiritual realm.”

Lola shook her head in befuddlement. “This is getting complicated.”

“Life is complicated,” Pythia replied. “Now, it is time that I give you your prophecy.”

“All of that wasn’t it?” Venice blurted in frustration.

Ignoring the carpenter’s comment, the oracle spread her wings wide. Images vanished from the pool of water in front of her, leaving it almost an iridescent black as she blocked out the lighting. As she spoke, her voice once again deepened and felt as if it were being etched into a memory rather than said aloud.

“The Empty One seeks the Key of Amon,
Locked within the Sealed Spire.
With his true name restored, so will his power be.
The end of this world will soon follow.

Travel to the world of dreams,
Seek the truth at the Nightmare Reef,
See for yourself the bottom of the Sea of Id,
For a memory of it is necessary for the next step.

Regardless of the Empty One’s plans
Everyone’s future rests solely on your shoulders.
Gather his children, the Bogba’el, all in one place
And with the spell Reverser split them in twain.
Return them to the nightmares whence they came.

Know that this spell has a steep price,
For three of you in the end you will be forever lost.
The caster’s lives are payment for this magicking.

And when the storm of souls surges forth from the maw
The three will be cast by the impact into the universe’s furthest edge.
Well beyond the reaches of the furthest star, into the endless dark.
Forever lost in body and soul, beyond the Spirit Order’s reach.

The three who shall cast this spell stand with a firm requirement:
One soul bound in flesh as penance, and two souls intertwined by fate.
No substitutions can be made.

For in the end, you may win, it’s true.
But this story ends in tears no matter what you do.”

Lola stood in silence for a moment, shocked by what the spirit had just described. This story ends in tears no matter what you do.

The words echoed in her head, over and over. “So, Amah, Lola, and myself?” Venice asked, cutting through the buhund’s fugue.

“Perhaps,” Pythia replied. “Perhaps not. The interpretation of this prophecy is entirely up to you.”

“Casting Reverser won’t be easy, regardless,” Amah interjected. “From what I remember of it, the spell itself requires a visual memory of the target’s point of origin. We’d need to see exactly where the crystalline nightmares used to create the Bogba’el were stolen from, meaning we’d need to go to the Realm of Sleep.”

The oracle’s wings beat loudly to call back everyone’s attention. “I’ve given you what I will,” she boomed. “Now, time is of the essence. Make haste.”

Lola and Aurora looked to each other in confusion, unsure what the Spirit was telling them.  Venice leaned in toward both of them. “She’s asking us to leave.”

The buhund and the musician both emitted a sound of realization. “Yes, very good then. Off with you,” Pythia remarked.

The group turned unenthusiastically toward the hallway through which they’d entered, walking away from the looming oracle. “Oh, and Amah. One more thing.”

Reluctantly, the Sun Spirit looked back. “Yes?”

“I am truly sorry for what befell your brother,” Pythia replied. “Tsu will be dearly missed.”

#

The group made their way back through the cavern and out onto the mountaintop. Although momentarily blinding, the afternoon sun had barely moved from where it hung when they’d entered the passageway. Wearily, Amah made her way over to the cliff face they’d climbed up to reach the peak, stopping at the ledge and examining it. “I do wonder if we even have time to waste on descending this all the way back,” she sighed. “Especially considering how poorly, some of us handled the ascent.”

Aurora, Rook, and Lola shot Venice a sideways glance. “My dislike of heights isn’t a conscious choice!” he defended.

Amah held up a hand, as if attempting to reassure him. “Legitimate phobias never really are,” she replied. “I’m just wondering if there might be a way to speed things up.”

The Sun Spirit stood silent for a short moment, before calling out to the air above the mountain. “Fujh, I can tell you’re here. Make yourself visible, please.”

At her words, an ogre-like man riding atop a cloud appeared out of thin air. The sunlight glistened in his golden hair and cast unsightly chartreuse highlights across his green skin, clashing horribly with the leopard pelt hanging from his shoulders. A pulsating bag clenched under his arm struggled against his unyielding grip. “I mean no disrespect by my presence, ma’am.”

“What brought you here to me?” Amah demanded. “Did the Order send you?”

Fujh shrugged. “Well, yes, but not with the intent of undermining you,” he explained. “Consider it more of a check-in. Suhs and Sarhu were unavailable and asked me to see how you were doing.”

“I don’t suppose you could give us a ride back to our caravan, could you?” Amah interjected.

The Wind Spirit paused momentarily, his free hand clasping his chin as he contemplated. “I suppose I could.”

“Lovely!” she exclaimed. “Aurora, blindfold Venice.”

“Blindfold?” the carpenter protested. “That’s a touch extreme, isn’t it?”

Amah turned back to the group. “Show of hands–or paws, or wings–anyone who wants to listen to him shriek in terror on the ride down.”

Only Lola raised an appendage, inciting Venice to glare at her bitterly. “Put your paw down, you little gremlin,” he growled.

Before he could say anything else, Aurora had quickly but forcibly wrapped a piece of fabric around his head to cover his eyes. “Alright, that’s enough. You two can bicker more when we get back to the caravan,” she chided before turning to Amah. “Do you think he needs to be gagged as well?”

Rook fluttered up to the musician’s shoulder. “We’re working around his phobia, not kidnapping him.”

Aurora huffed. “I was clearly joking.”

“You’d bloody well better be,” Venice grumbled.

A light gust of wind swept across the mountaintop as Fujh lowered his cloud to be level with the peak, its vapors visibly wafting down onto the earth below it. The wind spirit knelt down slightly to beckon them onto the platform of condensed haze. “On with all of you. You’re going to need to hold on tight.”

Aurora pushed Venice onto the cloud, guiding his hands to grab hold of Fujh’s arm. Following behind him, she boarded the cloud and tightly took hold of the wind spirit’s leg with one arm while firmly carrying Rook under the other.

Lola felt an arm wrap around her and lift her off the ground, looking up to see that Amah had picked her up and was now securely holding her. With a slight grunt, the sun spirit stepped onto the side of the cloud opposite of Venice, Rook, and Aurora; wrapping her free arm around Fujh’s other leg. “Everyone secure?” he asked.

“I sure hope so,” Venice replied shakily.

Aurora rolled her eyes at the carpenter’s anxious response. “We’re good on this side.”

“I think we’re okay over here,” Amah added.

Without warning the cloud zoomed away from the mountain top, the winds washing over them with the intensity of a crashing ocean wave. Lola winced, sincerely hoping that the sun spirit would maintain her grip throughout the ride as the sound of a deafening gale flooded her ears. The crawling feeling in her skin suddenly got much more noticeable and unbearable.

“I need you to delivery some information back to Tsuh and Sarhu after you drop us off!” she heard Amah shouting over the clamor of air now bombarding them.

“Can it wait until we’re back at your caravan?” Fujh shouted in return.

“Yes, it’s probably best to discuss it then! I just wanted to bring it up!” she yelled back.

They flew in silence for the rest of the ride amongst the emphatic roar of the wind.