“Already on it,” Meagan preemptively answered my question.

“Good, one of them noticed us paying attention already and said nothing. Easy tap,” I responded back to Meagan. This was going to be fun. I watched as Meagan audio tapped the duo as they passed us. I was confused as to why they came in, then immediately headed back out of the city. Oh well, makes my job easier, “Let's find a hotel for now, keep track of them and let me know what you find.”

Meagan grunted in response, already focusing on the dialogue of the two. Despite how she carried herself, Meagan was a professional when it came to faction business. She was head of the intelligence department for a reason. Granted being a sound mage —with our faction’s specialties to back it up— did guarantee her the position. Let’s just say there was a reason we got into the city so easily.

The two of us went to the closest hotel, a wooden inn called the Oasis. It was always nice to see the unique structure in a city otherwise occupied by steampunk apparatuses. The well oiled birch wood was elegant in contrast to the rough metal that surrounded it. From the outside it seemed we went to the closest lodging, exhausted from our travels. However, in reality, it was planned to look like that.

Though the various factions typically operated independently, the sense of community ingrained into the Orthodox was always present. We don’t have a unified fighting force like the Reforms, but we are known for our loyalty to one another. In such a way, any of the public resources a faction had would be available to all the others. Inns directly inside of various cities, were one such resource. These key stations were easily acquired due to the fear many had of the Orthodox, fear caused by the start of the Era of Realism.

We entered the lodge, a gentle twinkling noise welcoming our arrival.

“Ah welcome!” a young Reform came out from a door behind the front desk, standing behind it at attention. “I'm sorry to let you know but we are currently fully committed for the evening.”

“I just wish to settle any accounts,” I responded with a phrase any fellow Orthodox in the area would understand. Or I guess I should refer to the young man as a fellow Reform. Spending years in the faction had obviously changed the race I most related with. He looked at me, confused, before an older gentleman soon came from the same door the young man had earlier used.

“Ah, forgive him administrator, he is still in training,” the slightly translucent skinned gentleman said. As the Orthodox walked carefully into the room, he took off his sunglasses, showing me his eyes. The action was one of respect. I held back a grin when I saw the young man had turned shades paler at the mention of my title. I’m not one to lord my position over anyone, but it's still satisfying getting the look of awe mixed with terror. Being the Warden’s sister had its perks. Though it also had many drawbacks, mainly being stuck watching over him for years.

“No sweat. Do you have rooms for us?”

“Of course, let me switch out my cartridge so that I can lead you there personally,” the Orthodox man responded.

“You’ll have to guide me Justine, I think something interesting is about to happen,” Meagan whispered at the departure of the gentleman.

“Good.”

Yucluas sat high up in the bows of a foreign tree. How he climbed up here was anyone's question. Not mine, I got to enjoy watching him struggle for an hour. How he travelled a vast distance from the ruins was evident by the tumbleweed sized groove in the soil. After Gourami had fully charged from the well, he mounted his trusty steed and rolled into daylight. He was surprised to realize night had ended without him noticing. He was fairly certain it was getting dark as he initially left the lake. Either his journey back from the lake was quite circuitous, or he passed out for a brief period of time. Perhaps a mixture of the two.

He didn't remember falling asleep, but he was mentally exhausted. The fact that he was able to see his bag after getting up furthered his belief. I guess I fell asleep after being deposited by Gourami. However, that was in the past. Since then the sun had crossed a quarter of the sky; it was now the late morning. Yuclaus had since exited the ruins, surprised at never running into Isencia. My mind must be giving me ample time to do what is needed.

Even now he continually looked over his shoulder, ensuring the nymph was not standing directly behind him. He had felt like someone was watching him since he was in the decrepit town. It must be my imagination. It has been through a lot since I’ve been trapped here.

Cause followed the direction the two-tailed monkey had come from when he first encountered it. He had traveled nonstop, only taking breaks to climb in nearby trees to see if he could discover his enemies. He would have covered far more ground previously, but for some reason Gourami was a lot slower and heavier. It must have been some evolution from an item he had given it. Perhaps his computer? It had been running slow at work. It did have an inntel processor, maybe the tumbleweed had taken those properties. A shame he didn’t splurge and get the AND one.

He had eventually decided to take a long break, finding a nice rock to use as a bench. He leaned back, enjoying the small breeze, being soothed by the sound of a waterfall in the distance. It was not until he went in search of the waterfall that he realized he had finally found the fiends. The crashing sound wasn’t that of water, but the sound the earthen creatures made to communicate. After struggling up an especially large tree, he found himself observing the primates.

Down a steep slope were a few scores of earthen monkeys. A pen enclosed the primates, reminiscent of the hedge wall at the edge of the ruins. Cause had been watching them for a while now, seeing when their guard rotations were. He never believed for a second they were simply animals. No, these were conniving monsters.

As he had been studying his prey, Cause noticed some other differences from the one who previously bea—hurt him. There were varying degrees of tails. Some earthen monkeys had one tail, others had as much as fourteen. This could theoretically absolve ninety-three percent of them from the crimes of their two-tailed counterpart. Sadly for the soon to be monkeys, Yuclaus did not feel like conducting a just and fair trial. No, he felt like committing a genocide. Plus, there were no more two-tailed monkeys to take his wrath from the rest. And I can ensure that Yuclaus thoroughly checked.

One thing Yuclause did fail to notice, was how the tails seemed to almost have independent minds. There was no method to the madness, a couple of the appendages would clump together, while others would stand watch independently. None of them would get in the way of others, almost as if they were communicating. The tails vaguely resembled Isencia’s own Soul Spore, in the sense that each tail seemed to have its own mind. In reality, Isencia’s Spore had a type of hive-mind guiding her vines. Hence, it was more apt to describe the tails as scarily similar to Yuclaus’ Spore. A series of independent appendages that were individually controlled by a singular mind. Just like the scaled roots of the mangrove. It was as if someone had merged an Earthen Primate with the mangrove that now held a place in Cause’s soul. But again, Yuclaus noticed none of this.

After waiting for a moment more, Yuclause believed the guards to be taking a break. Where previously three monkeys had been making loud earth noises at each other —you try to describe the sounds earth monkeys make— now there lay three soon to be victims. The rest of the monkeys were likewise asleep on the soft loam of a cleared valley. Yuclaus was confused as to why the monkeys would sleep in the middle of the day. From what he had seen during his vigil, they had been very active during the day. There was no possibility of them being nocturnal.

A shadow fell over Cause’s roost. Looking up he saw that the sun had fallen behind the planet in the center of the sky. Ah the heavenly siesta. It seems that the signal to strike has been given. Yuclaus, seeing the shade that had fallen upon the world, understood that this was a time trial. Until the sun crossed to the other side of the planet he would have free reign.

Yuclaus tensed his mind, and jumped off his branch; he hit the ground, not a single memory being released at the impact.

“Lets go Gourami,” over the past day of travel Gourami and Yuclaus had bonded. Yuclaus felt like he understood the tumbleweed at a more intimate level now. His flask was markedly empty.

Yuclaus looked down the side of the hill leading to the enclosure. It should be plenty of space to allow Gourami to pick up enough momentum. If Gourami didn’t, then hopefully the flames would eliminate the devils. Yuclaus wouldn't bet on that. This was a trial, if he could conveniently trap the hellspawn in a wall of fire —and asphyxiate them— it would be too easy.

His plan was simple: roll through the hedge, catching it on fire, trapping the earth monkeys; he would then crush them all with his unorthodox steamroller. Yuclaus never considered that perhaps fire would not be the best method to fight creatures made of earth. He also never considered that he was about to slaughter a population for no reason other than mental instability. Good ol’ Yuclaus.

Cause walked up to Gourami, branches separating to allow him entrance. A small amount of energy from the seal was released. Yuclaus mentally shrugged at the change in his Soul Spore. A similar occurrence had been taking place every time he boarded his plant-car in the past day. It was nothing new. Yuclaus mentally went over the finer details: he would roll through the hedge with the tumbleweed, then dismount. If he stayed in the dried mangrove he would be rendered blind, aimlessly guiding Gourami. Now when he separated from the sphere of protection, he had no doubt he would be beset with earth and monkey alike. He was betting on the fact that if they did attack him, he would be relatively unharmed physically. Mentally he would just have to cross his fingers. One does not usually walk away from being beaten by an earthen monkey twice.

Grabbing onto the trunk of Gourami, Yuclaus started operation “vengeance for the broken”. The wrecking ball started rolling to the edge of the hill. Yuclaus could still back out at this moment. Had he even a small amount of the restraint and stability he had on the bus, he would have. Sadly, Cause had been through the grinder and came out a mess. There were no second thoughts.

Gourami started rolling. At first it was slow, but soon the tumbleweed started going faster and faster. The steep ramp was enough to get it up to a terrifying speed. When Yuclaus felt like the acceleration had stopped, he mentally commanded Gourami to unleash hellfire.

Instead of the explosion he had previously witnessed, Cause felt a heaviness. If he had a mirror, he would have seen his long hair standing on end. Gourami’s branches started to shift, gathering weight in front of the tumbleweed to further increase its speed. Small sparks of electricity danced from dried branch to dried branch. The energy in Yuclaus’ seal started to steadily drop.

Before Yuclaus could really process what he was seeing, an impact was felt. Had the tumbleweed been its previous weight, or had less momentum, it would have been rebuffed. Instead, there was a minor impact before Gourami pushed through, exploding the trunk of an acacia. Small bolts of lightning spread from the point of impact, lighting the nearby shrubs on fire.

Around thirty or so monkeys were jerked awake by the organic shrapnel. Ten of these seized moments before they were crushed by a massive tumbleweed. Yuclaus dropped as Gourami was still rolling. Hitting the ground in a roll, he immediately pushed himself to his feet. He sent Gourami to the monkeys that were still shaking off the stupor of sleep, turning his attention to more pressing matters. Primarily the other twenty enraged earthen constructs.

Yucluas shored up his will, and tensed for the coming impacts. And come they did. For the next few minutes Cause was in a haze. He would attempt to guide Gourami through the rain of blows. The tumbleweed was still wreaking havoc, but its speed started dropping along with the energy in the seal. Yuclaus would have to do something drastic soon or he would fail miserably. What would happen if he failed? Would he finally return to the bus, or would his mind be forever shattered. He was too afraid to find out.

Cause desperately looked around for help, an escape, anything that would change the situation. He looked around for a plan. There were piles of dirt denoting the perished monkeys, a hedge wall that was becoming a wall of fire, and Gourami in the distance. He was about to ignore the nearby corpses, when he noticed a haze above their heads. Almost like the distortion one would see changing the asphalt on a hot day. Luckily, the monkeys were not restraining him. Whether they were intelligent enough to restrain him was another matter. More likely it was the fact that they were filled with wrath at seeing the slaughter of their siblings.

Yuclaus decided the haze must be his mind giving him help. Slowly Yuclaus started moving in the direction of the piles of dirt and plant matter that were the remains of his nemesi. He attempted to go as fast as he could, but Gourami soon ran out of energy. At the tumbleweeds visible deceleration, only a few monkeys kept their attention on the dried plant. The rest started to rush towards the only other foreign movement.

Cause reached the haze moments before the wall of animals met him. He grabbed at it with his hand and found… a memory gem. Despair filled him as he crushed the gem, ignoring the new sensation as unique memories filled him. Cause had failed. His last hope had been useless. His mind had betrayed him. Yuclaus may have given up then, but his mind did not. Rather, in the recesses of his brain an old recollection resurfaced.

Yuclaus instinctively raised his arms to block a hit aimed at his face. Why am I even still trying? As the clump of dirt resembling a fist hit his right arm, his left shot out of its own accord. It was aimed right at the head of the monkey. For once in the mosh pit of man and creature, a creature felt fear. Its instincts screamed at it, saying that if the hand touched its face, certain death awaited. It tried to avoid the flesh-hand, but in its rage had committed to its punch. It had to get away from this—where was it?

The monkey felt her brother push her to get at the humanoid on the ground. What was going on? Were her siblings attacking her? She was one of the runts, perhaps they decided to finally eliminate her. She would not go without a fight. What happened next was confusing to all sentients, both involved and watching. All except for the beaten humanoid in their midst. No, this one knew exactly what had happened as it crushed the new fragment in its left hand.

Chaos ensued as more earthen monkeys started attacking their family. Yuclaus, a Figment, maneuvered in their midst. He would steal the memories of any creature standing, and stomp on the throats of the ones who were downed. In moments, there were only two figures remaining. The silhouettes scattered on the earth were either dead or dying.

A humanoid faced off with a fourteen-tailed monkey. One bared its teeth while the other looked for escape. One was confident while the other terrified. One had control of the tumbleweed while the other did not. One could take memories the other could lose them. Neither needed a signal. The monkey stepped back from the true animal. It slipped on a chunk of earth that had once been its sibling. As it hit the ground, it scrambled to push itself back up. It was far too late. A hand reached for its head. It shut its eyes tightly, not wanting to witness its demise. Nothing happened.

The monkey heard soft steps coming towards it. It looked up to see the monster restrained in a net of vines, its fingers almost scraping the nose of the primate. The monkey looked towards the sound of footsteps, and saw one of the masters. It was about to go to it for protection, but noticed the aroma that flowed on the wind. The primate laid itself on the ground, pretending to be dead.

Isencia walked up to the trapped Yuclaus. A slap resounded in the now silent valley.

“Is this a joke to you?”

A fair distance away, a meeting was going on in Fort Colon. All the nearby mayors and Guild branch heads had gathered in the same room. August sat at the head of a large table, listening to the discussions. Suddenly, his gaze jerked to the side. He looked straight in the direction of the Misfortune.

“Move forward our plans. I’ve found the Warden.”