He Who Fights with Monsters 11 (He Who Fights with Monsters, #11)

by Shirtaloon

Jason lightly tapped his foot and sand rippled out from it like pond water after a rock was dropped into it. “That get it done?” Boris tilted his head as if listening for something. “Yes,” he said, surprise in his voice. “I do believe that is enough that I can take it from here.” “Good. I’m leaving before any more of your sketchy pirate friends show up.”

“I remember it being bigger,” he said, finally breaking the silence. “Nothing stays the way it was, does it? Even if a place doesn’t change, it does to us because we change. Something that used to be so familiar feels the same, but also different enough to be uncanny. Like finding an old shirt that you loved growing up, one you wore until it had holes and then you kept wearing it anyway. But now it’s too small, like it belongs to someone else. Someone you used to be but aren’t anymore.”

“I know, right? I’m going to turn into a universe. And I’m going to be so obnoxious about it too. I’ll talk about it more than if I became a vegan; I’ll be completely intolerable.”

They watched as a bright yellow car moved erratically down the street. Inside it was a messenger, shrunken down to human size but with white fire blazing in her eyes. They watched her unsteady progress, her expression of distracted determination not even glancing their way. “Uh…” Jason said at an uncharacteristic loss for words. “Did I just see a messenger driving Mrs Berrigan’s ‘73 Holden Torana?”

“I think I’m feeling it,” Nik said. “It’s weird, like remembering something I forgot years ago.” “You’re only a few months old, bro,” Taika said, still looking up at the dome. “Shut up,” Clive told him in a sing-song voice, trying not to sound upset and interrupt Nik. “Sorry, bro.”

“That’s exactly the way it was,” Neil said as he handed a plate holding a salad sandwich to the rabbit-man, who could barely see over the table. “You did a fantastic job, Nik. How are you so much more competent than your dad?” “Thanks, Uncle Neil.” “Nope,” Jason said. “Absolutely not,” Neil agreed. “We are not brothers,” Jason insisted. “Definitely not brothers.” “We’re barely teammates. We’re going to kick Neil out when we find a better healer. Or a thinner one.” “We would’ve kicked Jason out already, except he always figures it out and fakes his death before we have a chance. Or cripples himself and gets laid up for months. Or goes off alone and comes back brooding like a teenager.”

“I guess you were right,” Jason said. “Of course I was,” Farrah said. “About what?” “In being confident that this was going to work.” “Oh, that was a lie. Do have any idea how many academically unsound shortcuts we’ve taken over the course of this project? Half-tested hypotheses are the least of it. Half of the stuff I’m putting together I’ve taken from Clive using a questionable mind-reading power. These rituals we’re using to link the control nodes are built as much on guesswork and hope as sound theory. The fact that we haven’t made one of the Magic Society guys straight-up explode is a minor miracle.” “Uh, Farrah mate,” Jason said. “Yeah?” “We don’t have a privacy screen up.” Farrah looked around and saw everyone else looking back. Nik at the base of the mesa and the Magic Society researchers under a nearby lightning tower looked especially unhappy. “Huh,” Farrah said. “The thunder muffles sound less than you’d think, doesn’t it?”

“You know what these things are?” Gabriel asked the messenger. “Indeed, I do, Lucky Husband.” “Stop calling me that.” “Oh, you don’t think you were lucky in marriage? My dearest Mrs Remore, I’m afraid your husband’s opinion of you is not as high as I’d hoped. If you and I⁠—” “I wonder how long messenger wings take to grow back,” Arabelle casually mused. “I’m just going to go over there,” Boris said and floated away. “That’s right,” Gabriel called out after him. “You keep walking. Or hovering or whatever.” “Gabriel?” Arabelle asked sweetly, her distracted spouse missing the warning sign. “Yes, dear?” “Do you really not feel like a lucky husband?” Gabriel blinked, then blinked again, his face blank. “I hate that guy so much.”

“Her name was Sunshine,” he said. “It’s hard to deny that I influenced this territory, but I don’t like the implication that this is somehow a reflection of me. Except, perhaps, my unconscious mind reflecting my habit of not properly thinking things through.” “How so?” Arabelle asked. “The idea of a territory where these things are all just getting along on their own is nice. But they’re still anomalies, so they turned bad once our people came here. It’s necessary to claim the zone, so my nice idea turned into a horror show.” “What are these creatures?” “For once, I’d rather not explain it. No fun in it. Should have been Care Bears.” “Care Bears?” “Yeah. Those sinister little pricks have it coming.”

“Okay,” the rabbit-man said. “Now I’m getting performance anxiety.” “Don’t worry,” Jason assured him. “You shouldn’t need to do anything; it’ll just happen. It’s like healing magic: it doesn’t take any skill.” Neil turned his head to give Jason a look that was almost a special attack. Jason failed to keep a straight face, smothering a laugh. “Nik,” Neil said sweetly. “Do remind me to tell Rufus’ mum what Jason just⁠—” “Hey hey hey!” Jason said urgently. “What happens in the lightning mesa stays in the lightning mesa.” “Yeah, sorry, Jason,” Belinda said, “but that’s not how blackmail works.”

Jason wasn’t sure if that was something he could use to keep the rest of the alliance from going full Lord of the Flies, but it certainly made him feel better.

Instead, he took out a six-pack of beer stubbies and handed one to Amos. “I didn’t think you liked beer,” Amos said. “I don’t, much,” Jason said. “But I’m Australian, and one thing Australians know is that, for some things, only beer will do.” “That seems like an unhealthy attitude,” Amos said. “Oh, definitely,” Jason said. “Our culture massively overlooks alcohol abuse.”

“…because it’s a weather machine, not a bloody satellite weapon,” Nik said angrily. “What’s a satellite weapon?” Dustin asked. “I don’t know!” “How do you not know?” Neil asked. “Because I’m six months old. Most of what I know is random nonsense put in my head by a man far too invested in TV theme songs.” “What’s a TV theme song?” Dustin asked. “Yeah, that must be awful,” Neil said. “Want a sandwich?” “Yes, please,” Nik said. “And some carrot juice—not because I’m a rabbit!” “You’re allowed to like what you like,” Neil said with a chuckle.

“Why are you creeping around?” Neil asked, prompting the others to turn as well. “How long have you been there?” “Long enough to realise that Nik doesn’t properly appreciate a shadowy flight into the world of a man who does not exist.” “What does that mea—” Dustin started to ask before Neil cut him off with a hand gesture. “No,” Neil said in the firm tone of a dog trainer. “Do not ask.”

“In my situation, I don’t see much point to hatred anymore.” Jason bumped his head against Gary’s arm again. “You really are the best of us. I’m sorry I couldn’t wrangle better circumstances for you. You deserve better.” “Since when did deserve ever matter? I don’t want to hear any self-recrimination, Jason. You don’t get to take my sacrifice and turn it into your failure. If it weren’t for you, I’d have died in a hole years ago and no one would have known. You gave me these years and they’ve been pretty damn good ones. However this ends up going, always remember that.” Jason wiped the moisture gathering in his eyes. “I love you, you big hairy sod.” “Of course you do. I’m amazing.” Jason burst out laughing.

“This is a huge tree, bro. That trunk has to be a mile across.” “A mile?” Emir asked. “Sorry,” Taika said. “A bit over a kilometre and a half. It’s weird that an alternate reality has the metric system and the Americans still can’t figure it out.”

“It’s the link between worlds,” Jason said. “It creates echoes. That’s why even though Earth doesn’t have elves, our folklore is full of them.” “We probably shouldn’t tell the real elves about rule thirty-four,” Taika said. “I’m pretty sure they feature heavily.” “You’re pretty sure, are you?” Jason teased. “I’m not ashamed,” Taika said. “I’d say I like sexy elf cosplay as much as the next bloke, but the next bloke is Travis and that guy is anime-body-pillow lonely. Good thing he’s still in Rimaros because he’s bad enough around celestines. If he went to an elf city like Yaresh, I think he’d stroke out.” Jason looked at Taika from under raised eyebrows. “Not like that,” Taika said. “Okay, probably like that, but it’s not what I meant.”

They got their reaction, the auras of the few remnant elemental messengers growing a little stronger. More messengers appeared as well, moving through the bark of the tree trunk like they were stepping through a waterfall. A waterfall with a clown car behind it, based on the numbers pouring out. “Well, at least we know where we stand,” Miriam said. “Let’s just hope there aren’t any more surprises.” “There are definitely more surprises,” Jason said. “I know,” she told him. “I’m still going to hope there aren’t.”

It was behind the line with Neil who stood atop a giant bird, a moustache perched incongruously on its beak. “WHY ARE YOU A GIANT CHICKEN?” Neil’s voice rose over the sounds of battle. “I’m a cockatrice!” Stash yelled proudly. “Look, I turned that guy to stone.” “That guy was already stone!” Neil yelled back. “He’s a stone elemental messenger. YOU’RE A GOD-DAMNED CHICKEN!” “Humphrey, Neil’s being mean to me!” “Both of you shut up,” Humphrey told them. Stash flapped forward, past Humphrey’s dragon bone condors. “What are you doing?” Neil yelled, gripping huge feathers to keep his balance. “You better not drop me in the middle of the enemy!” Stash let out a rooster crow that sent shock waves blasting through the elemental messengers. Metal bodies warped and stone bodies cracked while other types bled from their eyes and ears, many dropping to the ground. Stash then curved his flight back behind the lines. “See?” Stash said. “Not a chicken.” “You just yelled out ‘COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO!’” “And now you did too,” Stash said. “At least I’m a chicken. You’re the guy who yelled ‘cock-a-doodle-doo’ in the middle of a battle.” “I told you two to shut up,” Humphrey scolded. “And, Neil, stop using chicken noises as a battle cry. You’re making us look bad.” The giant chicken somehow managed to look extremely smug as Neil glared down at it. “Oh, you little bast⁠—”

“Really?” Emir asked as he cast his eyes over Jason’s portion of the complex. “Treehouses and elevators that pull people up from the ground using rope? I appreciate the rustic appeal, but you could at least put in a proper elevating platform. There’s something to be said for efficiency, you know.” “There’s also something to be said for subtlety,” Jason said, looking to the sunset blaze shining through the clouds of Emir’s cloud palace. “We’re building cloud palaces on the side of a tree taller than most mountains,” Emir pointed out. “If that’s not a time for showmanship, when is? Also, of all the people who might lecture me about grandiosity, it shouldn’t be the man who carved a mountain into the shape of his own head.” “There’s a time and a place for everything,” Jason said, his expression the picture of innocence. Emir shook his head. “Oh, look: mine’s finished,” he said. “I’m going to go in and poke around. How is it that mine is bigger, yet yours takes longer to finish?” Jason nodded sagely. “You did finish first,” he acknowledged. “Constance said you like to do that. Poor woman.” “Wait, what did my wife say?” “Oh, look,” Jason said. “Mine just finished. I’m going to go inside and poke around.” Jason floated toward his cloud building, Emir following after. “Hey! You have to tell me what my wife said!”

“Well,” he muttered to himself, “standing around brooding won’t make it go faster.” “Oh, thank goodness.” “What was that, Shade?” “Pardon, Mr Asano?” Shade’s voice came from Jason’s shadow. “You just said something?” “No, Mr Asano.” “You definitely said something.” “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mr Asano. It makes sense that you are distracted, however; there is a lot on your mind.” “Uh-huh.”

“A priest of Hero shouldn’t cheat.” “Heroes cheat all the time. Tales are full of such deeds.”

Yumi Asano snapped out orders, trying to stave off panic. The naked apparitions of her grandson wandering around like an oblivious tourist were gone, but now the central administrative buildings of the two domains had turned into trees. That had not been great for maintaining public order, especially after things had finally calmed down after the undead incident. She resolved that Jason, once he finally made his way back, he was getting a very stern talking to.

Get out of my house, Steve.”

“That was the god of Undeath, right?” Gwydion asked. “Yep,” Jason confirmed. “Why did you call him Steve?” “I was concerned he would turn himself into a sexy version of himself called Stefan.”

“Do you think the god of Undeath’s name is really Steve?” “No, Daniel. The god of Undeath’s name is Undeath.” “What if that’s more like a title?” “You think his name is secretly Steve, Lord of Undeath?” “It would explain why he just uses the title. You think that’s worse than Undeath, the god of Undeath?” “I’ll concede that’s not great, but yes, I do think it’s worse. You’re positing that all of the gods secretly have different names but are embarrassed about them?” “I always imagined the goddess of Wind as a Susan.” “Susan?” “It’s got that wooshing sound. SOO-san. Like the wind.” “This conversation is going to get us both killed. Probably by the god of Idiocy.” “What do you think of Steve as a name for the god of Idiocy?” “I thought the idea was that Undeath’s real name was Steve.” “There can be more than one Steve.”

Jason opened a portal to his soul realm, from which Emir and Constance emerged. “Jason?” Emir asked. “There are people already coming in from the surface,” Jason explained. “Shade can fill you in on the details and I’d like you, Constance, to help guide Lorenn through the diplomatic relations. That’s something I’m famously bad at and I need to go make sure Boris doesn’t convince Clive to attempt time travel.” “What?” Emir asked, but Jason was already through the portal and gone.

“Where did you get this model?” Boris asked. “What?” Clive asked distractedly. “Oh, I threw it together while I was figuring out astral geography. Or trying to, anyway.” Boris stood up straight from where he’d been leaning over to examine the lower sections of the diagram. He turned to Clive and looked at him from under raised eyebrows. “You just threw it together?” “Yeah,” Clive said and turned to look at Boris. “Is there something wrong with it?” “Weren’t you trained on the astral magic of this world? You know there’s been an active effort to keep the astral magic theory here stunted, right? To keep the link between worlds hidden?” “I didn’t know that, but it makes sense. Astral magic hadn’t made any real advancements in centuries until around fifteen years ago. Which turned out to be when the Cult of the Builder started actively using it here. That’s when they started getting sloppy.” “But in that environment, you got to the point of being able to do this,” Boris said, gesturing at the diagram. “That’s hardly a feat,” Clive said. “I’ve had access to outside astral magic for years now.” “How many years?” Boris asked. “Well, I’ve had access to my mentor’s notes going back almost twenty years. He spent his life piecing together fragments of astral magic from off-world sources, although it was all very patchy. I always wondered how Landemere Vane always seemed to be ahead of me, but it turns out he was a Builder cultist the whole time. Given what he must have had access to,...

“Oh, I know. If he doesn’t fix the link between worlds, I have to.” “You?” “I did tell you I knew some astral magic myself.” “And the World-Phoenix tapped you as Jason’s backup?” “Nothing so direct,” Boris said. “The World-Phoenix doesn’t just grab someone and tell them to go fix a thing.” “It told Jason.” “Dawn told Jason. You’ll find that the great astral beings and their prime vessels don’t always see eye to eye. Especially a vessel preparing to hand over the role to someone new. Prime vessels last wildly varying amounts of time in their roles, and I’ve suspected for a while that it’s more than being burned out by raw power. I suspect that the real problem is ideological incongruity developing over time as the vessel develops an independent identity.” Clive looked thoughtful for a moment as he contemplated the idea. “You’re suggesting that because a vessel needs to fully embody a great astral being, independent thought that diverges from their master’s objectives creates a dissonance that results in an escalating incompatibility? Resulting in the need to pass the position on, ideally to someone indoctrinated into service?”

I suspect they needed people with more flexibility as the fallout of the Sundered Throne gets worse.” “Sundered Throne?” “You don’t need to worry about that. It’s the reason the Builder is running rampant and the World-Phoenix is gambling with worlds instead of forcibly stepping in to save them. Get me drunk some time and I’ll tell you all about it.”

YOU DON'T GET TO JUST DROP THOSE WORDS AND THEN SAY "YOU DON'T NEED TO WORRY ABOUT THAT" BUDDY???

“Me?” “Someone needed to start teaching him astral magic.” Boris looked over at the glowing diagram again. “The fact that someone like you even exists on this planet is bizarre luck,” Boris told Clive. “When I say the World-Phoenix picked Jason at the right place and time, I don’t just mean a person flying through the astral at that given moment. I mean him, who he is, how he thinks, that idiot trying to summon a clockwork king in the middle of a magic barren. You, me, the god planning to…”

“Then I have one question,” Clive said. “And what’s that?” Boris asked. Clive stormed over to the diagram and jabbed his finger again at the offending variable. “WHAT IS THIS?” he yelled. “You clearly understand this magic. You probably understood it before any civilisation I’ve heard of existed! What is it?” Boris burst out laughing. “It’s time,” he said. “Time?” Clive said. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Sundered Throne,” he muttered. “Some busted cosmic magic thing. I have some connection to it through one of my familiars. Gets used as a prison for people like you two.” “Succinct enough,” Velius said. “Once upon a time, the throne wasn’t sundered. It was the power that regulated cosmic forces, keeping the great astral beings adherent to their respective purposes. You think of authority as power, but it is not. Transcendent entities have what, on any practical scale, amounts to infinite power.” “To mortals like us,” Raythe said, “authority is indistinguishable from power. In truth, it is, as the name suggests, authority. The right for a transcendent being to employ their infinite power in a specific way. Authority is what keeps the cosmos in balance when it is filled with entities of infinite power. The Cosmic Throne was what regulated that balance. The ultimate authority, if you will.” “Let me guess,” Jason said. “The great astral beings didn’t like being told no by a space chair and busted the thing up.” “A colourful, but not inaccurate guess,” Velius said. “But they weren’t foolish enough to leave each other completely without boundaries. The great astral beings agreed to a system of pacts between them. Agreements and concessions that would give them the freedom they sought while providing a framework to prevent infinite anarchy.” Jason erupted into laughter, rocking in his chair. “A bunch of supreme beings…” he said, forcing out the words between peals of laughter. “…...

“It’s the power,” Velius said, still woozy but looking better for the food. “If you do this, if you turn the Sundered Throne back into the Cosmic Throne, then you’ll be sitting on it.”

“That’s what you want from me?” Jason asked. “To repair the Sundered Throne and then never use it? To claim the vastest of cosmic power, only to give it up without so much as making melted cheese healthy?”

“So, you don’t want me for all the weird magic crap I’ve got going on. I mean, you do, but you have other options in that regard. You want me for who I am, not what I am.” “Yes,” Raythe said. “That’s actually really flattering,” Jason said. “Thank you.”

A chance to be something more than a puppet on the strings of a mad god. I know he’s not an actual god, but he’s close enough, and you have to admit that was a great line.”

“You need to get a lot better at including us, Jason.” “He’s working on it,” Sophie consoled. “He’s still terrible at it, but he’s trying. Like a three-legged puppy trying to climb stairs.” “Thank you?” Jason said. “Look, the good news is, I have a plan.” Humphrey and Sophie shared a worried look. “Don’t look like that,” Jason complained. “It’s a good plan. Plus, it will help me keep up with you lot while you’re out there fighting monsters to rank up.” “What kind of plan?” Humphrey asked. “Well,” Jason said, “how much do you know about people from Earth punching each other for money?”

“You think distraction is what I need?” “Not distraction. Purpose. I don’t think you want to be an adventurer right now, but maybe you want to be a teacher.” “But is it my purpose just because my family runs a school?” “It’s your purpose because you love doing it and you’re good at it. Because it’s building the future instead of holding on to a past that will slip through our fingers, whatever we might do to stop it. You once told me that helping people learn from your mistakes was more fulfilling than the fear of making the next one.” “I didn’t make a mistake, Jason. Sometimes you do everything right and it still goes wrong.” “Yeah,” Jason agreed. “But I think we both know you’re a sackful of bad decisions waiting to happen. I think a completely new context would be good for you. Force you to come at things with a clean slate instead of with all the baggage you have now.” “You aren’t pulling punches.”

“Bro, you’re not regenerating anymore,” Taika pointed out. “You’re leaking rainbow smoke like a dead monster.” “Yeah,” Jason said. “I don’t have a lot of time left.” “I won’t take too much of it, then. Thanks for keeping your promise and finding me a way home.” “That was Boris, not me. But I’m glad you’ll see your family again. Keep an eye on mine until I get back there myself, yeah?” “No worries, bro.”

“Wow, this rooms smells bad,” Neil said. “Oh, wait; it’s you.” “Neil.” “Yeah?” “I would never say this in front of the team, but you are arguably the most important member in it. I am exceptionally glad that you will be keeping them safe in my absence, just as you do when I’m here. You’re an important friend and you mean the world to me.” Neil blinked in surprise. “Thank you for saying that, Jason. It means a lot. It would mean more if you said it in front of everyone else.” “I know,” Jason said, nodding his head sagely. “I know.” Neil left the room and reached into the pocket where he’d placed the recording crystal in case Jason said anything heart-warming. The crystal was missing and his fingers found something else instead. He pulled it out to find a picture of himself at the Standish family farm, in a tub full of eels, wearing only a hat ‘with rub-a-dub-dub’ stencilled onto it. “You have the power to see and change everything here, don’t you?” “Yes,” Jason said as he emerged from the room to rest a hand on Neil’s shoulder. “Yes, I do.”

Gary held out the sword in its scabbard for Jason to take back. “Sorry,” Gary told him, “but you won’t be able to use them properly until you’re an astral king. It smells like you’re about to get onto that, though.” Jason laughed as he took the weapon and put it away. “It’s not much of an upgrade on the surface,” Gary explained, “but you’ll never lose it and you don’t need resources and rituals to rank it up now. It’ll match its power to yours.” “Thank you,” Jason said. “It’s been six years since you first gave it to me. It feels like forever and no time at all.” Jason stepped up and hugged Gary tightly, his head only coming up to the huge leonid’s chest. “You smell so bad,” Gary choked out and Jason laughed through the tears spilling from his eyes. Jason pulled away from the big man. “How do we do this?” he asked. “How do we say goodbye? How can it ever be enough?” Gary put a comforting hand on Jason’s shoulder. “Jason, you’re going to live a long time. Probably forever. And in that time, you’re going to do a lot of amazing things.” Gary gestured at Jason, leaking rainbow smoke. “Starting in about three minutes, from the looks of it,” Gary continued. “We both know you can lose your way at times. You have Shade and all of our friends, but maybe you can do something for me. When you find yourself uncertain of a choice, or wondering if you’re doing the right thing, maybe think back on your old leonid friend, and see if you can’t find a way to choose compassion.” Jason stared...

Jason stayed with Gary as long as he could. His last sight of the big man was of a wide smile and a casual wave as Jason vanished. He reappeared in a hidden chamber, in the mountain fortress of his otherwise collapsed soul realm. He hadn’t been able to hold back his tears in front of Gary, but now he fell to his knees, wracking sobs shaking his body. He would never see his friend ever again. Two gentle hands found his shoulders. Shade and Colin were both standing over him while Gordon floated nearby, somehow managing to convey concern in his alien body language. “I’m sorry, Mr Asano,” Shade said, “but you have left things too long already.” Jason nodded and started slowly pulling himself together. He got to his feet and looked around. He was on a catwalk around a magma waterfall, with multiple doors leading out. One led upstairs and three led to his astral throne, astral gate and soul forge, respectively. The fifth and last opened onto a void dotted with colourful nebulas, blazing in the dark. “Goodbye, Gary,” Jason whispered, then stepped out.

It was time to stop. Stop giving in to his worst instincts. To stop trapping his better nature in his head and start letting it drive his actions. To be the man—the friend—that he knew he should be. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his body. He’d been trained better than the sloppy body control he’d been showing. When he opened his eyes, his sclerae were clear and the bags were gone. He looked fresh and ready, like an adventurer should. He ran a hand over his head, feeling the stubble that had grown as he stopped taking care of himself. He reached for his bag and the depilatory cream inside, but stopped himself. Maybe it was time for a change. He wasn’t going to grow the wild mess his brother lugged around on his head, but something different would be good. Change, inside and out. He grabbed his bag, slung it over his shoulder and walked out.

“Ooh, stating the obvious,” Jason said. “You’re getting the hang of mortality nice and quick. I’m guessing you’re all just starting to realise how much you were reliant on your vessels while possessing them. You never needed to learn how to school your expression because they already knew. I put a few things in your mortal brains, but not as much as your vessels have. You’ve got language; motor functions; what songs are. The conflict between innocent fun and racist iconography in The Dukes of Hazzard.”

* * * Gary was standing nervously in front of the portal leading out of Jason’s soul realm. He was so distracted that he didn’t notice someone approaching from behind until Rufus slapped his friend lightly on the back. Gary looked down in surprise as Rufus moved to stand next to him. He looked better, and it wasn’t just that his eyes weren’t bloodshot. They no longer held the anger that had been simmering behind them since Gary made his decision. “I’m sorry,” Rufus said. “You need a friend more than ever right now, and I’ve been making things harder for you.” “It’s not⁠—” “Don’t,” Rufus cut him off. “Don’t try to make me feel better. I’m sorry it took me so long to be the friend you always are.” “Rufus…” “What has you hesitating?” Rufus asked, forcibly changing the subject. “What’s waiting for you on the other side? You’re worried about Hero’s power trying to leave your body?” Gary shook his head. “I won’t be out that long. I can hold the power inside until I come back into the soul realm, and I need to face the god. Jason said he gave Hero permission to come into the brightheart city.” “I don’t know what’s worse,” Rufus said. “That gods can be kept out or that it’s Jason they need permission from.” Gary laughed. “He certainly doesn’t need an ego boost. Gods show up and he’s annoyed they’re bothering him. You’re going to have to keep him grounded after he turns into a messenger god or whatever it is.” “I think I’ll be leaving that to the others. I might take Farrah’s idea ...

On a wide road in an otherworldly jungle, Jason and the World-Phoenix stared at each other. “I had this whole speech planned out,” Jason said. “About how you used me, only to throw me away when something more important came up. It had this great running metaphor about how people respect their tools. But that would be for me, not for you. I may have taken the extension of your will you poked into my soul and stuck it in a person-shaped box, but that’s just my impression of you. It’s not what you are. So, we might as well go ahead and get started.” He turned to walk off, then froze when the World-Phoenix spoke. “Thank you for Dawn,” she said. Jason turned to look at her, eyes narrowing with curiosity. “Same,” he said after a long moment. “Thank you for sending her my way.”

“You’ll be more than funny in the head,” the Celestial Book said. “Your mind will effectively be destroyed. You’ll only be lucky enough to generate a new one because you’re in the process of becoming an astral king. You’ll be a new person, with no memory of the old one. And by the time you come to, everyone you know will be immortal or very long dead.” “Then I’d appreciate you making sure we don’t lose,” Jason told him. “This is foolish,” Legion said. “You make the rules here. You can only bend things so far with our wills influencing events, but you could have given us far more advantages. You have to know this, so why would you arrange it like this?” “Because of what we took from him,” a voice whispered, seemingly coming from all around them. The group turned to looked at the laced and veiled Whisper in Corners. It was not a great astral being Jason had heard of prior to his meeting with Raythe and Velius.

The most horrible thing he saw within the horde chilled his blood: a street gang from eighties television. They were all white guys with no tattoos but wore leather jackets and bandanas around their foreheads. “Come on, guys!” one of them yelled. “Let’s show them what the Downtown Beat Boys can do!” “Oh, this is going to get weird,” Jason muttered to himself.

Gary, Farrah and Rufus stood together, off to the side. Gary’s parents, after a tearful reunion, were settling their possessions into their accommodations in Jason’s tree city. Gary was making his final goodbyes with his best friends. Farrah, Rufus and Gary’s team had officially been disbanded years ago. Gary and Rufus had turned away from adventuring after Farrah’s death, and they had never reformed after her resurrection. The friendship had been far more than just a registry with the Adventure Society, however. “You know,” Gary said, “the first time we met was in a town that was burning to the ground and full of zombies. The last time we met was in a magic city deep underground, next to a crowd of rebellious angels. It’s only been about ten years, but we can’t say it wasn’t exciting.” “We set out to have adventures,” Rufus said. “No one can say we didn’t succeed.” Farrah didn’t say anything, grabbing Gary’s much larger frame in a hug, looking like a child grabbing a parent. Her tears wetted the fur on his arm.