“What you need for what I need. An interesting offer.” A rough, scratchy voice spoke, and Elach felt a heavily scarred or callused hand ruffle his hair. “Open your eyes, young boundless.”

Opening his eyes, Elach saw a well-lit log cabin. A fireplace of black iron was set into the far wall, and in front of it were two heavy wooden rocking chairs and some kind of fur rug that had lines of black and brown shooting through it in patterns that made up a castle wall. He looked around to try and get a better sense of where he was, seeing a well stocked kitchen and pantry and a hallway adorned with pictures of Issi beasts, wisp manifestations, and people that Elach didn’t recognize. And the man standing in front of him was impossible to ignore; he wore a thick, woolen sweater with poorly knitted hearts and diamonds on the front, brown pants with patches on one knee and a lot of mismatched coloured stitching. His hands were callused and worn from what must have been years of work, a single dark iron ring on both of his middle fingers.

And his face was… something. His hair was trimmed short, but not too short, and it was streaked with black and grey. His eyes were green as pond scum, a comparison that Elach would never say out loud, and the whites were just a little bit yellowed, like old paper. His beard was trimmed close to his face and completely grey, highlighting a closed mouth smile that reached up to the man’s eyes. If this was supposed to be the manifestation of the axe, like Prisoner had told him, this was the most person-like manifestation Elach had ever seen. He looked more like a person than most Issi practitioners.

“You’re the axe?” Elach asked incredulously. He’d been expecting something like Resthollow. And he’d expected to be in his own headspace, not wherever this was.

“In simple terms, yes. I am.” The man offered a hand to help Elach stand, and he took it with a nod of thanks. “So you spoke with Prisoner, and he sent you to me. What did you make of him?”

“He seemed to be doing well for someone who claimed to be locked up for centuries.” Elach said, taking in a deep breath of burning wood and what smelled like spiced cookies. “What did he do to deserve eternal punishment?”

“His punishment isn’t eternal. Or it shouldn’t have been.” The man said, his gaze forlorn and a note of sadness and regret in his voice. “But the world has moved on, and forgotten to bring him to light. Do you truly wish to know more?”

“I…” Elach paused. He wasn’t sure. Another thing he’d have to get used to, what with all this free will he had now. “I do. Just in case I go back and he’s harvested my organs or turned me into some kind of meat sculpture.”

“He wouldn’t do that.” The man said with the certainty of someone who knew something Elach didn’t. “But I can’t tell you his whole story. Just where I came in and onward. Anything else you have to ask him.”

The man paused and pulled on his beard as if it were half a foot longer and scouled. “Before any of that, though, introductions are in order. I am Sentence.” Sentence offered his hand to shake, and Elach took it. His grip was nowhere near as crushing as Elach had expected, but was just firm enough. “This is where you introduce yourself.”

“Right. Sorry. Not used to the whole ‘making my own decisions’ thing yet. My name is Elach, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Sentence raised an eyebrow. “No surname?”

“You know, that’s everyone’s first reaction.” Elach replied. “But no, it’s just Elach.”

“Perfect. You must have been forged for Issi manipulation from a young age with how saturated your being is.” Sentence squeezed Elach’s hand one last time before letting him go. “How did you do it?”

“I haven’t really had anything you could call training, not by a long shot.” Elach said. “But I was a chaperone for teenagers to get their wisps for a long time, and my friend and I always did our workouts and sparring in the wisp garden.”

“How long would you consider a long time? Three days? Five days? An entire week?” Sentence shook his head and crossed his arms, tilting his chin to the side to rest on his fist. “No, you said you’d trained in the garden. Did you work two solstices in a row?”

Elach grimaced, holding back a bitter remark. “Try twelve.”

Sentence let out a low whistle. “Twelve. There must have been some extenuating circumstances for that to come to pass.”

“Nope. Apparently it was destiny.” Elach muttered as he rubbed his shoulder. It still hurt when he tried to remember. “Does that answer your question?”

“It does. And I thank you for your years of service contributing to Issi practitioners and bonders everywhere.” Sentence bowed low before Elach, leaving him without a retort and stumbling for words. “You’ve more than earned your keep.”

“You’re just going to trust me?” Elach asked, stupefied. “If this is such a big deal, I could have just made all of this up to look better for you.”

Sentence raised his head with an expression so serious, it wouldn’t have been out of place on a statue of a tyrant. “You cannot hide anything from me here. This is my version of one of your headspaces, and I am far more powerful than anything you could even fathom. More significant.”

“Then why haven’t I ever heard of you?” Elach asked, put on edge by Sentence’s words.

“For the same reason you have never heard of Y’talla. Or Maragaram. Or even Prisoner’s home, Cavress.” Sentence stood tall, towering over Elach even though he had half a foot at most on him. “They were revoked. Changed. Undone. Lost to the constantly shifting eternities in the death throes of something they never knew existed. Because it doesn’t, didn’t, and never will.”

Sentence stared down into Elach’s eyes with the intensity of someone who both wanted to and was terrified of speaking their mind. “How about this; I’ll tell you one story. It can be of Prisoner’s crimes and Sentence, or of the way our world has been ravaged and abused by some of the most powerful beings, how they murdered our gods and claimed their domains for them and them alone.”

Elach let out a chuckle. “Well, when you put it that way, I don’t really have a choice. I’ll find a way into Prisoner’s mind once I get out of here anyways.”

Sentence studied Elach for a long while, as if determining if he was truly ready to hear what he was about to say. He seemed to find what he was looking for and cleared his throat.

“You made the right choice. This isn’t something I can tell just anybody. And there are a few things some people might warn you about, but know this; myths cannot call through the veil of fiction to harm you. And parts of my story have been reduced to fiction since I first spoke them.” Sentence said, then started walking over to the kitchen. “Take a seat in the leftmost chair while I fix us some refreshments. And let your little bird out. More company is always welcome.”

Elach nodded then walked over to the chair that sat on one end of the huge rug, its fur soft and silky but with an undercurrent of life and power that tickled the soles of his feet like he’d just finished a half hour run. The chair was solid wood and seemed to be mundane, and when he felt nothing as he sat down his suspicions were confirmed. It was just a very nice, solid wooden chair with a cool clear lacquer to keep it sealed and in good shape. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on his headspace while already within someone else’s headspace, and found that he could see something like a dim outline of everything inside his mind. He tried to touch the fountain and felt severe resistance he knew he wouldn’t be able to overcome. Then he reached for Flow, who was hopping around purposeless in the small space. He felt no resistance, but there was now a weight on his lap and an absence of Flow’s outline.

Little feet tapped about excitedly on Elach’s lap, accompanied by happy chirps and little gusts that were caused by flapping wings. Elach smiled down at Flow’s excitement and patted them on the head, a gesture that Flow pushed into with a soft coo.

“You took to that quickly.” Sentence said as he laid down a plate of cookies and a cherry red cup of thick brown liquid on a side table that hadn’t been there a second ago, mirroring the gesture next to his own chair, the only difference being that his cup was sky blue. “Your bond must be deep.”

Flow chirped in response, and Sentence chuckled. “This one will be quite talkative when they’re fully grown. A wisp like that is beyond rare, indeed.”

“Flow is still a wisp?” Elach asked, and Flow tilted their head in a mirror of the question.

“A wisp isn’t the little thing you might have been thinking. Though colloquially the word may have evolved to mean as much. What you have there now would be considered a wisp’s manifestation.” Sentence took one of his cookies and used it to scoop out some of the thick drink, eating the entire thing in one bite. That explained why he had three times as many cookies as Elach. “A wisp was what we called anything that was created purely from Issi. No weapon, like a sacred arm, and no location or influence like a living city or hallowed ground. They might manifest larger forms, or they may stay small and insignificant for their entire lives.”

“Well, Flow was already big. Once.” Elach said, and flow puffed up their feathers to look bigger. “Then they died and regressed down to a little flower bud... egg... thing.”

“Mmhmm.” Sentence said, his words muffled around a mouthful of cookie. “Then you were exceptionally lucky. The both of you. Had you waited any longer, or taken less time to bond with Flow, they would have either regressed down to a formless wisp’s base intelligence or broken you by attempting to first bond with a creature that far exceeded your station.”

“Damn.” Elach said, and Flow let out a high whistle.

“Damn indeed.” Sentence brushed some crumbs off of his sweater and leaned back in his chair, slowly rocking back and forth with his hands laced over his stomach. “But now you have an incredible opportunity. Flow will grow along with you, sharing some of the mental and physical load that comes along with growing stronger and attempting to wield the Issi you’ll have. You’ll have to learn to share some of your Issi, though the advantages will still let you grow a little faster than usual. And you won’t be able to bond with just anything, since Flow is a transient wisp.”

Flow looked up at Elach and chirped. “Is that why I couldn’t bond with Resthollow?” Elach asked.

“Resthollow… they have steel, bone, and a third type of Issi that I can’t remember. Which falls exactly in line with a transient wisp’s dislikes. Anything that stays the same for too long is anathema to a transient wisp, just like anything too volatile is for their foils the perpetual wisps.” Sentence explained. “Though exceptions have been found, as powerful wisps are individuals with their own preferences, but those two are pretty much constant in their hates. Some will just tolerate more than others.”

“Could Flow even tolerate a bond with you?” Elach asked, and Flow plopped down on his lap. They were asleep within seconds, and obviously done with this conversation.

“Don’t worry about that; I’m as transient as they come despite my current station.” Sentence chuckled. “But we got off track. I still owe you a story.”