Fatia Cerulean grinned at Randidly, daring him to move in response to his vicious words. And for that exact reason, Randidly suppressed even the slightest physical or emotional reaction to the blatant threat. He allowed the aggression to pass over him, allowing his own violent reaction to only occur in the depths of his emotional sea. Such was the control over his body that he flexed not even a single muscle.

The provocation bothered him, but a conflict wasn’t worth it.

It did not escape Randidly’s notice that a fight with this figure now would undoubtedly demolish his farm for the third time.

He released a breath. The fact Cerulean hadn’t immediately attacked meant there was still some room for negotiation. Yet the possibility only made him all the more hesitant. Because when he looked at the mysterious figure of the raptor construct that ruled the Aether Lands, Randidly didn’t receive even the slightest hint of his image. He could not see what sort of power the other wielded.

For now, definitely not a foe to antagonize. No matter how much of a prick he seemed to be.

Randidly’s mind raced as he considered his options. He spoke slowly and avoided the contentious subject. “... what do you mean by the Narrow Path?”

The raptor construct regarded Randidly with a small flicker of surprise. “...how interesting. You truly do not recognize the term. Well, I suppose you are young. Let me provide some small instruction before we consider your future. This is old thinking, one that predates the Nexus. It animates the great disagreements of those in power. There are two Paths to reach utopia. The Broad Path, walked by untold millions marching arm in arm toward the future. Obviously, the Broad Path is slow and meandering, as guiding such a host is impossible. One cannot lead when everyone moves together. However, it is admittedly a smooth Path. Many can tread those steps, beaten down by untold feet. Rather than improving the world in a literal sense, the Broad Path uses bodies to dig into the world until all may reach perfection.”

Cerulean took a step forward, the blue flames around its body growing more intense. “You do not have the signs of the Broad Path on your body. Your individuality almost announces itself in your body and energies. I can smell your methods. The determination, the scent of blood, the fierce convictions, the exhaustion. You definitely walk the Narrow Path. You do create a Path with your actions, but it is not an easy Path for others to follow. For you ascend higher and higher by advancing and slaughtering all in your way. These piled bodies become the steps you take, until one day you hope to ascend to the Pinnacle and grasp enough power to simply wring the blessing you desire out of the world with your own hands.

”If the world waits in its high tower with its blessing, you will scale the wall and seize them.”

Randidly frowned, but Cerulean held up a sapphire-wreathed claw. “Ah. I do not mean you approach your ascent with the express goal of killing. Yet you have undoubtedly encountered others whose designs run directly counter to yours. The Nexus, in particular, has become a pipe dream for many on the Narrow Path. What happened when you meet another with diametrically opposed viewpoints to your own? Who believes you should fuel their ambition? That your home should be demolished and repurposed?”

Randidly tingled with recognition. He sucked a breath in through his teeth, finally seeing it. “You aren’t saying there is a single Narrow Path. But a million separate ways carved through bodies and dreams, crisscrossing existence. When two such Paths intersect, only one gets to rise.”

“Until eventually, only a single Narrow Path remains to grasp the Pinnacle. That is the idea.” Cerulean agreed. Then he shrugged. “Despite the fact this is simply a philosophical tool, I must consider you carefully, Nether King Hungry Eye. If someday we are fated to meet along our individual Paths, would it not be prudent to eliminate you now, before you grow even further? Sensing the way you worked with both Aether and Nether as I approached, you seem like a particularly dangerous thread to be allowed to weave yourself freely.”

Cerulean smiled, or as close to it as a flaming raptor construct could manage the expression. Randidly’s blood turned to ice in his veins, finally glimpsing Cerulean’s image. It started as flickers, small imperfections in his shape, but soon Randidly realized these distortions were purposeful. The Lord of Cerulean City did not cultivate image physicalizations or world-state images, like most of the others Randidly had encountered. No, an extremely detailed and rather physically constrained image lurked within his body.

The closest Randidly had ever seen to it was some of the warriors from Tellus, who would create an extremely focused image of their own weapon. That image became ubiquitous through their constant association with their spear, until the division between image and physical object began to blur. Each movement became the peak of image activation, while also remaining a mundane movement. Reality and unreality blurred together to create a potent mixture of both.

It mimicked image physicalizations and Nether both. Borrowing the power of each to create a lingering fusion. The only flaw was the inherent limit on how much detail could be poured into a spear. The weapon became overwhelmingly solid, but images tended to need a pinch more of the fantastic to become overwhelming.

Unlike those individuals from Tellus, however, Cerulean’s image was not his weapon, but himself. A doppelganger, a false emotional doppelganger fed the entirety of the raptor construct’s existence. Avoiding the flaw of the Tellus method completely by choosing a much more complex item for reproduction.

A soul.

For a brief second, Randidly saw a flicker of an expression in the raptor construct hiding within the physical body. A manic display of teeth, a joy to be witnessed, a sort of indulgent arrogance to finally have another sense the depth of his power. Or to breathe in the acrid tang of its madness.

An entire myth associated with his person, cultivated carefully over an untold number of years. Once Randidly had seen it once, he could observe the small flaws, the way the flames would bulge just a little too much, the way a strange distortion would emerge in the twisted, triplicate wireframe of his spine. The approximation of a soul, attempting to wear a hollow body and speak words. A second version of himself, the rough texture of which alarmed Randidly every time he saw it.

The hulking construct of rumors and brutal truths continued to grin at him, when it shimmered across the edges of his physical body. Randidly’s skin felt clammy. It was a monstrous, cobbled-together approximation of Nether churning within Cerulean’s body, an imagined Weight given presence by repetition and detail.

Fatia Cerulean lived and breathed his own legend every moment, honing and refining it with his every action. His potential to grow into a powerful individual became a moot point when he had remade himself to be a true lord.

The obvious success of this process felt especially galling considering that Randidly had spent so much time over the last few months coming to terms with his own ignored emotions. Yet opposite him, on an opposing Narrow Path, he now witnessed a version of himself that ignored those lessons and instead painted over them with harsh Willpower, over and over again, until the facade became substance.

Yet he felt no envy. Looking at this monstrous being, and the horror flickering within his skin, Randidly wondered if any of Cerulean’s true emotions remained in his core.

Randidly licked his lips. Yet for all that, he needed to appeal to that vicious thing now. He spoke honestly, trusting Cerulean possessed enough insight to recognize that. “I don’t want any harm to come to Malloon. Honestly, regardless of what you sense about my path, I came here with no intent to interfere with the coming storm around the city. If anything… I just wish to observe.”

Cerulean leaned forward, the inner demon he had cultivated so long peering out from the glowing white orbs within his raptor skull. “When I hold the head of Nether King Bleak Sky within my hands and squeeze my fingers, would you stop me?”

“No,” Randidly said.

Cerulean flexed his claws. “Despite what my intuition is telling me, I have a hard time believing that you have so little loyalty to your people, Nether King.”

To this, Randidly laughed. His emerald eyes danced with genuine amusement. “Lord Cerulean, I now straddle two worlds; I’m sure you’ve sensed the energy moving within my body. I was not raised amongst the Nether. And just like you now regard me with suspicion due to my Nether Core, so too have I fought against Nether Forces for possessing images.”

This was true, if a bit of mischaracterization of Randidly’s time on the frontlines. Still, he believed this would be enough.

And so it was. The monstrous, sculpted Cerulean faded. The air ceased trembling beneath the touch of his image. He leaned back and settled onto his heels. Suddenly, the raptor construct radiated cheerful amusement. “You know, Nether King Hungry Eye, the fact my instincts tell me I should believe you only makes me trust you less. But I cannot deny I enjoy the tingle of danger you make me feel. For this storm, feel free to linger around and observe. But can I offer you a suggestion?”

“Please,” Randidly replied.

Cerulean chuckled as he turned away. “I’m a quite meticulous being, Hungry Eye. So I am not unaware of your involvement with Elhume. He is a piece of a plan much larger than any of these dalliances around Malloon. So you will someday have a choice to make. Either cut all ties to him… or be amenable to acting as an intermediary between me and him. Obviously, without his knowledge. Just a slight nudge would be all that’s required of you. Think on it. And for a while longer, live while straddling two worlds.”

He wants me to help him influence Elhume? That fact stunned Randidly enough that he simply stood and waited until the powerful Lord Cerulean vanished from the farm with just as much stealth as he approached. However, now that Randidly had witnessed his image, he could feel the ripples it made in the air.

It was a construct of Aether not quite trying to be Nether, but resembling it all the same. It possessed enough similar notes that Randidly’s nose found it rather easily, now that he knew what he was looking for. To his immense relief, Cerulean proceeded directly back to Malloon after making his visit.

Had the powerful raptor construct circled around and observed him for a time, it would have been difficult not to become slightly… twitchy.

For the moment, Randidly set aside his insights into the piece of equipment he would make for Devick. He walked down to the carrot patch, gesturing with his hand and using the Stillborn Phoenix to suck away the ancillary images that lodged within the vegetable and slightly dragged at the flavor. It was rather mindless work, freeing his thoughts up to consider the implications of Cerulean’s warning.

Obviously, the trial had a secondary purpose. If a being like Cerulean truly intended to punish Elhume, he would not play around like this. Randidly scrunched his brows together. Yet from the way Cerulean spoke, the push would be in the future. If he simply intended on sentencing him-

“The Cult of the Savior,” Randidly blurted out the organization before he even understood what he was saying. He paused in his work, pivoting and looking at his surroundings. The farm was dark and still, the leaves of the sprouts in front of him almost black in the darkness. He licked his lips. What if Cerulean is a part of the Cult of the Savior? The trial might have some purpose to placate or scare the average person, but it’s more than that. It was a pretext to force Elhume to be here. So he could attend this meeting with the other representatives.

After meeting them, if Elhume is brought back and hammered in the trial, he will likely see his own weakness. He might feel powerless.

“The question is why,” Randidly whispered. He flicked a hand, an image of nothingness devouring foreign influences. The silence remained heavy over the farm, unable to provide an answer.

“What sort of request are they going to make…” Randidly said slowly. “That the only way Elhume would say yes was to have every other avenue severed?”