It took the old woman about fifteen minutes to get a tub of warmed-up water and some new clothing for me. The bathing rooms, which took up the rest of the first floor, were barely bigger than closets individually and technically not even separate rooms at all. The final quarter of the bottom floor was just divided up with some low wooden boards for privacy. Thankfully, nobody else was in the bathhouse, or whatever it was, so I got to enjoy a bit of silence while I relaxed and cleaned myself off.

She didn’t even take the sword, I thought as I sat inside the small tub of warm water and scrubbed the caked-on filth from my face. The old woman’s actions were puzzling to me. After I had put the aggressive man outside, five meters from the door, she barely said more than a word or two as she did the prep work for the bath. Were it not for the fact that she gave me more than a dozen opportunities to kill her I would have thought she was setting me up for a trap of some kind. It was possible she was just incompetent, but even if that was the case I wanted to at least wash myself before fighting her off. Flakes of dried blood bobbed up and down in the water, and I sighed, still feeling slightly fatigued.

Trying to pull up my heads-up display failed again, and a memory from the inside of the noypeyyoyjh appeared in my mind at the same time as my left eye experienced a twinge of pain. My operator said he was taking off my “training wheels”, is this what he meant? I thought. His apparent reasoning for giving me the display was just to make sure I didn’t die accidentally, but it had use beyond that. Even without numbers, being able to quantify my magic and nutrient levels accurately from full to empty was useful. But it wasn’t always accurate, I recalled, he also said it was based on information that I would have known if I was human, so maybe I still have access to it.

Levitating a small ball of water out of the tub and holding it above my right hand, I tried to get a sense of how much magic I had left. There was a feeling, something that I had no words to describe, but I wasn’t sure if it was what I was searching for. I started to heat the ball but then stopped. No, if the goal is to use energy quickly, I should do the reverse, I thought, I’m about to have a meal anyway, I’ll just make sure not to strain myself in case I have to fight later. Summoning up my mental model for heat reduction magic, I began to search for the proper “direction” to begin applying energy, but then my newer magical knowledge clashed with what I was doing.

This magic doesn’t actually make sense, I realized, this shouldn’t work as well as it does. In fact, it shouldn’t work at all unless I’m touching the water, but… I lowered the ball of warm water to my hand, feeling that just a moment of my technique was enough to make it quite cold. Another mental flex using the same technique hardened the water into a ball of ice, sucking out enough magic fuel from my hand that I nearly dropped it into the bath.

“Would I have been able to do that before?” I wondered aloud, melting the ball back into water and then separating it into four pieces. Mimicking the yihzhae in Owsahlk, I spun them into needle-like shapes, then froze them again, increasing the supply of magic fuel to my hand to keep everything stable. The drain was detectable, but my reserves still felt full. As my mind began wandering again, the voice of the operator came to the forefront of my thoughts, repeating its words from inside the noypeyyoyjh: “You do not need to know the composition of gunpowder to fire a bullet.”

“That’s all fine and good, but this technique is supposed to be conventionally impossible,” I muttered. “I might not need to know the exact composition, but there’s a line somewhere.” Out of curiosity, I melted the ice once more and then tried to shape the water into a more complex form. With alarming ease, my magic shaped the water into a tiny sword, which I then quickly froze and examined. “Training wheels indeed,” I grumbled, suspecting that my heads-up display might not have been the only thing that changed.

“The food is almost ready,” the voice of the old woman called from just outside the room, almost making me jump as I quickly dunked the chunk of shaped ice back into the water. Did she see it? I panicked, staring at the door and looking for cracks in and along it.

“Where do you want me to bring the armor and sword?” I asked nonchalantly. Looks like there aren’t any obvious peepholes, I thought, still, I need to be careful. I didn’t even hear her descend.

“Just leave it in there,” the old woman replied. “Are you almost finished?”

“Five more minutes or so,” I replied.

“Of course,” the old woman said, in a way that made it obvious she was nodding deferentially even though I couldn’t see her. “Nobody is here yet because it’s early so just come upstairs, you can eat with me.” Footsteps on the wooden floor moved towards the stairwell, then ascended, and I exhaled, sinking deeper into the tiny tub. I wish I had soap, I grumbled as I began drawing up more water with force magic and heating it, Time to see just how close friction can get me to cleanliness.

The clothes were as uncomfortable as I suspected they would be. It didn’t help that I was much larger than average, so the uniform-like garments were a bit tight around the thighs and biceps, causing the rough material to chafe against my skin. Still, the clothes were clean, didn’t smell, and would help me blend in, so they were better than what I previously had. Leaving the battered sword and destroyed armor on the ground in a pile like requested, left the bloody bathwater to be cleaned up later and walked up the stairs to the upper level.

My nose was enough to tell me which door led to the room I’d be eating in, the smell of meat and spices causing such a strong physical reaction that I had to restrain myself from barging in and instead slow down to open the door properly. The old woman, standing at a stove, was in the middle of frying a pan of food. She barely registered my entry, her focus being directed entirely to her task. The lines and folds on her face emphasized the scrunched area around her eyes, possibly indicating some sort of visual issue. On her hands, I noticed something that almost didn’t jump out at me before I did a double-take: scabs from previous scratches and burns.

How old does one of these humans have to be for their healing magic to fail them like that? I wondered, stepping quietly to the round wooden table and sitting down in a nearby chair. There were already two mugs of water set out, but I wasn’t thirsty.

“You sure are a quiet one,” the old woman remarked as she began scraping the contents of the large pan into two wooden bowls.

“Is that a problem?” I asked.

“No, of course not,” the old woman replied. “I-” she didn’t manage to finish her sentence before flinching in pain, almost dropping the now-empty pan.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Just my back,” the old woman grunted. “Once you get old enough, it starts to hurt.” I watched as she put the pan down, then placed a hand on her spine and began to stretch, letting out a number of popping noises. “Oh that’s a lot better,” she sighed, leaning forwards once more into her hunched position and grabbing the two bowls, along with some spoons. “I hope you like zmayspae, that’s what I made.”

“Eating dirt would probably taste good right now,” I replied, taking one of the bowls and spoons from her and immediately digging in. Normally, I’d check to see how many green bars were filling up right now, I thought, it’s a bit of a wonder that these humans can stay healthy when they need so many nutrients. The food was delicious to the point that I nearly inhaled a piece of meat, triggering a short coughing fit. The old woman, who was watching me silently, expressed just the barest hint of amusement, and suddenly I felt my stomach drop. I didn’t even check for poison, I thought, quickly focusing my healing magic on a few points in my body.

“No need to be so nervous,” the old woman assured me, taking a bite of her food. “You can switch with me if you like, I eat less than you do.” That’s a strange offer, I thought.

“Fine, let’s switch,” I said, passing her my bowl and getting hers in return. I guess it would be pretty hard to poison just one bowl when the food was all cooked in the same pan, I thought, meeting the old woman’s faded red eyes and then taking another bite. In return, she took a bite of my food, then broke eye contact. Something is very off here, but I don’t know what, I thought, straining my ears to try to detect movement somewhere in the building. Suddenly, I recalled something she had said that didn’t make sense.

“Are you really a Rehvite?” I asked, getting a laugh in response.

“Young man, what kind of question is that?” the old woman joked, her previously tense demeanor softening up.

“Earlier, you referred to that sword I had as a noypeyyoyjh guard sword,” I said, “not a verteyzeyr’rehv guard sword.” The old woman paused mid-bite of her food for a full second, then continued chewing.

“That I did,” she agreed.

“It doesn’t seem like something a Rehvite would say,” I noted.

“Neither is the word ‘Rehvite’,” the old woman countered, and the tension returned.

“I’ve heard plenty of followers use that word,” I lied. While it was true that the men who tried to rob me used it, she did have a point. Rehvites didn’t usually refer to themselves with the term, which made the fact that the men used it all the more confusing in retrospect.

“You won’t hear many people saying verteyzeyr’rehv around here young man,” the old woman said, sipping her water. “Folk tend to stop being respectful to monuments when they’re killed by the hundreds because of them.” I caught myself quickly and dampened my reaction, but my eyebrows still went up a little bit in surprise. We only killed a few dozen people at most during the assault, I thought.

“Oh?” I prompted, hoping that being vague would keep her talking and give me the information I was missing.

“Most of the reprobates you’ll encounter in this little settlement know at least one person who was caught up in the retribution,” the old woman explained. “Follower or not, it’s hard for them to be respectful of something that took the lives of their friends and family.” She said that as if the noypeyyoyjh itself killed them, I thought. “I take it you know little of what happened during the retribution, then?”

“I’m not Uwrish or Luwahriy,” I replied, not really answering her question.

“Really?” the old woman scoffed playfully. “I never would have guessed.” Instead of replying, I took another bite of food. “Would you like me to tell you about it?” she asked as I chewed.

“Yes,” I replied.

“Before I do, I’d like you to answer a question for me honestly,” the old woman said, suddenly growing intense. My human instincts screamed at me to attack her before she could spring her trap on me, but I reigned them in and instead prepared to launch my spoon handle-first into her eye as a distraction.

“What sort of question?” I asked, holding my tone perfectly even.

“You’re the jhaoyeyl, aren’t you?” the woman asked, and before she even managed to finish her sentence the wooden spoon was halfway across the table and I was on my feet. As she tumbled to the ground from the impact, I began charging up my left hand with electricity and trying to decide if it was worth grabbing a knife from the kitchen counter to use as a weapon. “Stop!” the woman groaned from the floor, and I looked over to see her struggling to use the table to get to her feet with my spoon handle-first through her right hand. Without healing magic, the injury was slowly oozing blood from its edges.

“Who else-” I began, bearing down on the tiny human with full intent to kill.

“There’s nobody else here, and I don’t want to fight,” the old woman coughed. “I didn’t… I didn’t know how else to confirm it. I wasn’t trying to startle you. Please sit down, we have much to discuss.” She didn’t appear to be lying, but I wasn’t about to take any chances, so I grabbed the large chopping knife from the counter and used my chair to bar the entry door.

“Speak,” I demanded. The old woman, who was now sitting down again and breathing heavily, slowly pulled the handle of the spoon out of her palm, then closed her eyes and concentrated. At a speed that still would have been miraculous on Earth, but was incredibly slow in comparison to “normal” healing in Uwriy, the hole sealed itself, turning into nothing but two scabs on either side of her hand. Breathless from exertion, the old woman opened her eyes again, then sunk further into the chair.

“I saw you that night,” she huffed. “With the two others, just before you encountered R’vaajh.”

“That isn’t what I want to know,” I warned. “Who told you I was here? Why did you recognize me when the others didn’t?” Still breathing heavily, the old woman laughed again.

“It is what you want to know, I assure you,” she said. “I know because I saw you, they don’t because they didn’t. Everyone else who was there that night is dead.”

“We barely killed more than fifty people, there were hundreds in the fort,” I countered, accidentally raising my voice.

“Nameless one, please, I am not going to harm you,” the old woman insisted. “Sit down, and I will explain the story from the beginning so that you can understand.”

“My name is Yuwniht,” I growled.

“You and I both know that is not a name in your language,” the woman said, frowning.

“How do you know that?” I hissed.

“Sit down and I will tell you,” the woman instructed, her nerve coming back into her tone. “You can kill me at any time, what do you have to lose? Is this walking corpse truly so threatening to you?”

“It’s not you that I’m worried about,” I growled.

“Stand then, just listen to what I’m to tell you,” the old woman sighed. “That night, when you and your allies invaded the fortress, I was in the middle of reading a letter from my grandchildren when I heard a commotion outside. Initially, I thought it was just the guards doing a drill, but then I looked out the window to see you jump into the air and blow up about ten men with some kind of explosive.”

“A grenade,” I muttered, recalling exactly what she was talking about.

“Against my better judgment, or so I thought at the time, I followed behind you to warn my friends who lived closer to the center,” she continued. “I saw the duel with R’vaajh, and I saw you fall into the noypeyyoyjh. My eyes weren’t as bad at the time, you see. Not until what happened afterward.” She let the statement hang, watching my face as though she were trying to spot a lie.

“I fell into the noypeyyoyjh,” I said.

“As though swallowed by it, yes,” the old woman agreed. “You were drawn into the center, growing smaller and smaller until you vanished entirely. Then, a heartbeat after you disappeared, the noypeyyoyjh exploded with light. Black turned to white, its surface swam with symbols and language I have never seen, rays brighter than the sun shot into the sky, and Rehv himself punished us for our arrogance.”

“Punished?” I thought aloud, furrowing my brow.

“First, a glowing wave blew out of the noypeyyoyjh,” the old woman recalled. “It permeated everything, and all who were unrighteous were killed by it. As I watched those around me wither and die, I ran away, trying to get home and find shelter. As I found my door, a great gale was summoned, tearing the very ground from beneath my feet. Another wave came, and stone was undone, reduced to naught but dust. I was drawn into the sky by the winds, battered by rubble and debris, and knocked out.”

“What about Koyl and Vaozey?” I asked.

“Though I did not see it, as I understand from the words of others they were unaffected by the winds and waves and managed to flee,” the old woman said, mirroring my troubled expression. “When I awoke, I was in this place. The holy ringed wall was already constructed of Rehv’s stone, and the ground had been flattened for over a thousand paces in all directions. Only I survived, and the only possession I retained was my book of Rehv, sitting right there, with the commentaries removed.” she pointed to a spot on the wall beside me where a shelf was nailed, on top of which was an old-looking book that appeared to be missing the latter half of its pages.

“What about the bodies?” I asked.

“By the time I awoke, there were none left,” the old woman explained. “Everything had been reduced to dust or soil, corpses included. I thought I was meant to starve, but Rehv had plans for me. Listen carefully, because this part in particular is crucial. The pure word of Rehv has many meanings and interpretations, but that is only the first layer of what it contains. Every word, every character, even the language it was written in, is divine. Through careful examination and application of pattern to its text, one may speak to Rehv through reading his word. When I awoke, I was granted the ability to do just that.”

“That’s-” I began, stopping before I could get more than a single word out. Rehv is a being like the operator, I thought, Rehv has similar capabilities, meaning that he possesses an intellect of near-incalculable power. Given how far and accurate the operator’s predictions supposedly were, it doesn’t seem impossible that a being like that could make something like this. “Is this what your people meant when they told me that Rehv was speaking to them?”

“Yes,” the old woman confirmed. “Holy Inscription is a product of divine intellect, designed to allow the pure word to carry near-infinite meaning through application of patterns. Most passages have new meanings if their letters are rearranged or the word order is changed. The high priests of Zihzehshesk are constantly combing the pure word for new patterns to reveal new knowledge, but they are fools. Rehv knows the past, and Rehv knows all choices each person can make. Therefore Rehv knows the future, and it is impossible for one who is not intended to read the texts to gain anything from them.”

“But you can,” I added, finishing her thought.

“Only what is intended for me,” the old woman said. “After the retribution I had little hope left, but as I read my favorite passages again I saw that they were telling me of help that was to arrive. Surely as they said, within a week a force from Awrehrezha arrived and climbed the wall. They thought me mad, but they gave me food and shelter, even built this place. During those days I did little but eat, sleep, and read. It was as though I had been blinded my whole life and suddenly able to see, even though my eyes never recovered from the noypeyyoyjh’s light.”

“Then what did… Rehv tell you?” I asked, the strangeness of the situation hitting me all at once mid-sentence.

“He told me of you,” the old woman said. “He told me of the nameless servant of the equally nameless god of humanity, a man who is not a man from a land across the sea of stars. He told me of the folly of our kind, of how our flaws had caused us to take his teachings and use them as a tool, rather than as guidance. He told me of the future should you succeed in your task upon re-emergence, and the future should you fail. I did not understand all of it, but I understood enough.”

“For what purpose?” I pressed. “Why would he tell you all of this?”

“Rehv has a message for you,” the old woman said, ignoring my question. “His exact words were: ‘A servant does not betray his master by incidentally serving another during his duties. Though I love life above all else, a tree must sometimes be pruned to maintain its health. Act as you will, for you are now the shears.’” What does that mean? I wondered, He’s on my side, or has he planned around me? It could just be a trick to influence me.

“That doesn’t sound much like what I was hearing before I killed R’vaajh,” I muttered.

“You have been told of the schism within the followers by another, that I know for certain,” the old woman said. Mawyeyz told me, right, I remembered. “That which is said about Rehv is not always that which Rehv says. That which is done in Rehv’s name is not always that which Rehv wills. You need look no further than the faces of those who draw Zihzehshesk’s ire to see that.” The first might be true, but I have trouble believing the second, I thought, It’s more likely that Rehv knew exactly what would probably happen and didn’t care, if the operator is any indication.

“Did he say anything else? Any advice? A cache of equipment, maybe?” I asked. “If we’re on the same side, does he intend to support me? Or are we enemies, and the message is a warning?”

“There is only one last thing you must do here, then you will go to Awrehrehzha,” the old woman continued, looking down at the table and ignoring me. “Now that I have delivered the message, you will kill me.” It took a second for the words to work their way through my brain and become comprehensible. I was going to kill her, but this is strange, I thought.

“Why would-” I began.

“You cannot risk me telling someone about you,” the old woman interrupted. “You can’t tell if this is a trap or if it is genuine. You do not know if Rehv is trying to trick you, or if your own god tricked you. You want to know so much more, but your suspicion keeps you from it. In order to feel safe you will kill me, I accept this.” Again, the words seemed to move slowly through my mind, as though they were shaped wrongly for it.

“Not yet,” I refused. “Firstly, how do I get out of here? What is this place?”

“You already know the answers to both of those things,” the old woman sighed.

“How long was I in the-” I demanded.

“You will learn all you need to know when you reach Awrehrehzha,” the old woman interrupted, holding up her still-injured hand. “Please, jhaoyeyl, I am tired. You know this feeling too, Rehv spoke of it to me. I wish to rest and be rid of this…” the woman gestured vaguely. Rehv knows what I was thinking when I finished my last mission on Earth? I thought, feeling overwhelmed by the implications.

“You want me to kill you?” I asked, frowning.

“I am the last of my line,” the old woman said, seeming to deflate even further into the chair. “My husband is long dead, my children were killed, my grandchildren fell in battle and their children were executed. I am one hundred and sixteen years old, I have lived far too long already. Every day of life in this body is torture that I only endured to serve the will of my god, a true god, so that I could deliver this message to you. To kill me is to do me a favor, I assure you.” As she spoke, I felt a strange sensation for just a moment in my chest, just to the left of my sternum.

“Why not kill yourself?” I asked. “You can barely heal anymore, it would be trivial.”

“Rehv told me that you would do it,” she said. “He told me that, in the lands from which you came, death is granted to those who can no longer perform their duties.”

“That’s not untrue, but…” I began, trailing off into thought. She might be insane, but she’s right, I need to kill her to keep her quiet and get out of here, I thought, charging up my left hand again reluctantly.

“For the followers of Rehv, death is not something to be feared or mourned,” the old woman smiled, her eyes looking sad. “Though I aspire to this, I cannot reach it. The weakness of my humanity causes me great pain, and the memories of my life are like chains. Death is not harm to me, it is freedom.”

“I don’t need convincing, you were right to begin with,” I said, approaching her. As I reached out, I felt the urge to pause for a moment and ask a question. “Do you have somewhere you would prefer to be, or is here fine?” Why did I ask that? I wondered.

“Do you intend to use the knife?” the woman asked back, her voice cracking.

“I’m going to shock you with magic,” I explained. “It’s the same thing that I did to the man earlier, but with more power. A younger person wouldn’t die from it, but you will be knocked unconscious and your heart will stop.”

“Will it leave any mess?” the woman asked. “Will it hurt?”

“When your body is found it will look as though you died of old age,” I answered. “From your perspective there will be no pain, you will cease to be conscious before you feel anything.” Two tears, one from each eye, flowed down the outer edges of the old woman’s face.

“Truly?” she asked, and I nodded. “I did not expect kindness, jhaoyeyl, but I do appreciate it. Thank you.” Shutting her watering eyes, the old woman leaned back in her chair and relaxed, going completely still. “I am ready to go,” she whispered. I found it strangely hard to reach out and put my fingers to her forehead, and even though it took tangible effort to contain the static electricity in my hand, releasing it seemed to require more than just the relaxing of a mental muscle.

The old woman’s body flinched when I killed her, then went still. I checked to make sure her heart was stopped, then stepped back from the body and observed the state of the room. There was too much evidence, both here and in the baths, of another person being in the building when she died. Cleaning it all up would be impossible, so instead I finished my meal in silence, threw away my bowl and spoon, and left the body where it was. When I was finally back in the hallway with the door shut behind me, I sighed, rubbing my collarbone.

Why does my chest hurt? I wondered, And why am I thinking of Suwlahtk?