BlackwaterDnD

Em:
Welcome to BlackwaterDnD, where good friends tell better stories. This series, Balance, is a miniseries using the Powered by the Apocalypse system, Godkiller, which was created by Connie Chang, now available on Itch.io for purchase, and is proudly sponsored by Hero Forge and Moonbeam. This tale takes us back, long before the end of the universe, to a time when we begin to explore & understand old divine wounds that run so very deep, and what happens when love is caught in the middle. This story encouraged us as creators to strive for genuine emotion and connection, relish the space we create at the table, and take big swings with the way we approached our narrative. For this story, your GOD, everyone else, and the thrum of the Cradle, is myself, Em Carlson, and my GODKILLERs are played by Gina Susanna & Jannes Wessels. As this game falls within a holypunk and dark fantasy genre, it may contain themes and depictions that are triggering for some listeners. Please take care of yourself and access safe support as you see fit.

Content warnings for this episode include: grief & loss // child abandonment // romance // heartbreak // substance use // lies & concealment of identity // being watched // allusions to sex // rejection // religious undertones // death & a funeral // the woods // complex family dynamics //

So sit back and relax, heretics. And welcome to Godkiller: Balance.

Episode 14: Rewinding

Em:
Rake, as your hand slips from Ever’s, you know that you are unbound and untethered from her, with the capacity and capability to travel on your own within this liminal tunnel of time that you've created using Ungal's magic. The power of all time at your very fingertips. More power than any mortal should have. But you are not mortal. You're a godling. You have your knife with you, but you are not the godkiller. You have spared gods time and time again, through this journey, showing compassion where you'd previously only shown cruelty. You are here on your own, away from your mother, under no one's guidance but your own. You drift back from her, knowing that this entire next span of time will only take a fraction of a second in her experience, that she will continue to make her way towards an arch that will deposit you in Hood, where you will meet whatever fate awaits you. She doesn't look back, and will barely recognize that you are gone, but she will know that you let go of her hand. Where would you like to go?

Jannes:
I think as Rake recognizes that things are about to come to head, the first stop that he would want to make is a memory, or a time, for himself. And I think he will try to go back to that moment that they shared in the stairs.

Em:
Okay. So, for every thread you try to pull, I'm going to have you roll to wield a power. As you wield this power, you will be able to see hints of other things in the Weave. This new power is vast and unbound, almost chaotic, at your fingertips. Time tends towards entropy. The Weave is strong within time, and when you step outside of your own timeline, you take risks. And you've been risking a lot today with your use of this power. This journey through time, wherever you go, you will be at the mercy of the Weave. The divine equivalent of fuck around and find out. So, when you wield a power to do something only a god can, roll 2d6 and add one for each true statement. You've done this specific act before perfectly. Yes. You're desperate for this to work. Are you desperate?

Jannes:
I think as much as Rake wants this to work. I think he also knows that there is so much challenge, and insurmountable odds ahead of them, that I don't think he is careless enough to pursue this with true reckless abandon. So, I would say no, he's not desperate for this to work.

Em:
Not yet. And you're close to a shrine, lair, or domain of the god you took this power from? You are in the liminal. So this is Ungal’s purview. So yes. So that's a plus two.

Jannes:
That is a six and a four on the die, for total of ten, plus two is twelve.

Em:
Okay. While you are getting good at this, you are not Ungal himself. And that is an overkill. So normally on an overkill, the GM will also describe how you drain, terrify, or wreck what's around you. But lucky for you, you are stepping back into your own timeline. You didn't miss, so you'll get there. There's no overkills here. And because you've essentially hit it, you've got it. I'm gonna offer you the opportunity at the end of pulling this thread to see where you would have gone if you would have missed. But that also means that you will take the consequences that come with it. But you can decide after this.

You step out of the slipstream and we find you just before, in the market. You are in the crowd, in Glass, navigating your way from the Third District to the Fourth, on the other side of the Ring, away from The Wayfarer's Lamp. You can see yourself and Ever standing at the stall, talking to Marcus, the fruit vendor. What would you like to do?

Jannes:
I think Rake would just watch them, and he knew how he felt about Ever at this point already. But even now… I think he's still unsure about how Ever feels about him.

Em:
Hmm.

Jannes:
He knows that she cares for him, but… It's hard not to care for someone that you've such trying times with. So I think he's watching her with this sort of desperation to see something that would give him a more, certainty about her feelings towards him.

Em:
You have to get closer to hear the conversation and navigate yourself around so you can see her face. You watch as the two of you step away from the table. You watch her face as she says she's in love with the man who sings to the oranges. You saw it then, but potentially because you were so trapped, so scared, so nervous of saying that in the first place, you didn't see her hesitancy about telling you about the man who sings to the oranges, knowing that it would have an impact on you. Knowing that once she said that there would be no going back. She searches your face. And outside of your own head, you can search hers. The care is evident. The second she stops talking about the man from Temisset, her eyes are immediately back to you. Watching what you think, watching for your response. While you might not be able to see it here, and you might have to follow yourselves further, the care is deep. It's more than platonic. But this is then before the stairwell.

You watch the two of you finish the conversation and start walking towards the apartment building. You see the both of you walk up to the front door, knock, and wait for the small family to walk out. Children bustling down the steps, they run past you, almost bumping into you on the street. You watch the two of you go inside, with the door almost closing behind you. Do you follow yourself in?

Jannes:
I think back to that moment in the stairwell and I remember very clearly that we were sure that we were alone, and I start to question, if it's already happened, would it mean that I'm safe from being noticed? Or would it mean that I chose not to go in? And I… I let the door close, before I enter, and I place my hand on the door, and I close my eyes, and I live that moment with the two of them from outside. Having it already etched into my mind, I don't need to see it to remember it, but the proximity to her, I feel those emotions as if I'm standing there in front of her, and as I… As I know the time has passed and we would have head up to the door.

Em:
You hear the last faint moments of conversation. You can barely see the both of you through the glass in the center panel. You are up on a middle landing. You see your feet start to move towards the top step, and then turn back and step closer to her, remembering the moment where she reached over to the knife in your holster at your waist, your feet are inches apart.

Jannes:
And in that moment, I know what our love looks like and I, I have a sudden urge and need, for myself but also for the choices that I make going forward. I need to know what the love that she has for the man who sings to the fruit.

Em:
Hmm.

Jannes:
I need to know how it compares.

Em:
You watch the feet, your feet and her feet, begin the walk up the staircase to the top floor. Something strikes you here. Tayo is the God of Humanity. There is nothing more human than trying to understand someone else's feelings. Seeking connection, understanding, empathy. And I think there is a moment where you reach for that, reach for that tether, reach for that anchor, and you hear the sound of a snap. A cord snapping. After you left this apartment, something very bad happened. You remember Tayo saying that in that apartment they were waiting for something. And you get the sense that something came, but it was not the something they were waiting for. And in this moment, you know that Tayo is dead. Not at your hand, but someone else's. With the God of Humanity dead, what is there left to anchor the Cradle? Something else clicks into place. The world is set to reach its Oblivion when the twin-souled priest reunites and kills the Empty God. It was not set to happen for thousands of years. But Tayo dying changes that. Oblivion is coming, sooner than it should. And you are likely one of the last people to see Tayo alive. What would you like to do?

Jannes:
With that realization crushing down on Rake, there's a moment where he feels… He feels as though... What's the point? What's the point of trying to save everything if the ending is so close? And then… Then he thinks about Ever, and how even if the ending is close and the fate is already written, people like her are what will make those last years worth it.

Em:
Mmm.

Jannes:
And he closes his eyes, and knowing that Tayo will die, but has not died yet, he says a silent prayer to Tayo.

Jannes (as Rake): [internally]
“Thank you, for the kindness that you show. For the patience. But mainly, for the hope, that you carried for so long. I will carry that with me, so that you don't have to carry it alone anymore.”

Em:
The Weave is an unknown thing. Everything and nothing. Infinite, and also yet, incredibly small. And as the last words leave your lips, you hear,

Em (as Tayo):
“You are welcome. Carry the hope. Perhaps in another universe, what is between you will be different. Perhaps it could be more. Everything you wanted.”

Jannes:
And as Rake takes his hand off the door, and takes a step backwards through time and the Weave itself, back to that liminal space, I think there's part of him… There's part of him that acknowledges that there is no universe, no timeline in which he wishes that things between him and Ever would be different.

Em:
Mm.

Jannes:
Just that the world around them might be different.

Em:
You find yourself back in the liminal. You see a thread. It's soft, a slight gold. Half a step next to you, the place you would have gone had you not quite wielded this power correctly. Do you wish to tug on that thread?

Jannes:
I think Rake can't help but take a look.

Em:
You reach your hand out, touching what is literally a thread of the Weave, and you step into another place. In your timeline. Too early. Much, much too early. You wake up with a start, and you begin to cry. You know you're you, and you're in your body, but it's much smaller. You're about three months old. Lying in a woven bassinet in a larger bed. Your eyes flutter open, and you're hungry. You want your mom, and the comfort of her skin. You can't smell her. Which feels wrong, and bad, because you can always smell her. You've basically been carried or worn by your mother for almost every moment since your birth. There is another who carries you, and you know he loves you, and cares for you, and would do anything to protect you, but he's not her. You feel the one who is not mom move and shift, and you hear him make soft sounds to soothe you. He places you on his bare chest, curled in a soft muslin blanket, and that is okay for now, but he is still not mom. And you are still hungry. You feel him stand, and he begins to move around, carrying you and cradling you against his chest, tucked into the crook of his shoulder. You hear him call out, something you don't understand, but it sounds important. He holds you tighter and he begins to move faster and faster, and he runs outside. The early sun is warm on you as it warms him, but it does not calm him. You soothe for a moment, and you notice his heart is racing, and there are drops of water dripping on you. It's not as wet as the bath, which you love, and it's coming from above, not below.

The one who is not mom makes pained sounds like yours. You know that sound, but it is not the one that means hungry or that you need to be changed, or that your stomach is upset, or that your body is uncomfortable. It's the one that says you want to be held, that you miss the person that holds you. He is crying for your mother in the same way that you now cry for your mother. You feel him sit back down on the bed, and he holds you tightly, and you cry together for a while. You know he will feed you because he's done that before. The warm milk that they've been feeding you, even though it didn't come from your mom. You know that he will love you because he holds you and cradles you, and he smells like he's supposed to. You know that he will rock you in the way he does in the bassinet to help you sleep. But he is not her. What would you like to do?

Jannes:
Am I aware of that… Do I still have my faculties? Like, am I still able of, the same level of thought? Do I know what is coming?

Em:
Time is strange. You are both here, and not here. You are both a baby, and also a young man. So I would say yes. You are experiencing something that you would never remember. But the version of you that looks in, now, has thought and faculty. For just a moment.

Jannes:
I think Rake will try and familiarize himself as much as he can with the feeling of love and need for his mother, which is something he's never been able to feel in that way. He doesn't remember, as a young man, ever truly loving his mother. Or needing her on that level. And I think it's twofold. Firstly, somehow the realization that that love was once there, and that it is possible, is like a balm to the hurt, the neglect, and the cruelty that she's shown to him all these years. And that's very much the things that he inherited from his father.

Em:
Mmm.

Jannes:
And the second part, the things he inherited from his mother. He knows she can only be killed by someone who loves her. Whom she loves. And so he uses that love, and that need, that hurt of her leaving, and he shapes it into a different kind of knife.

Em:
Hmm. You take one strain. Is there anything else you do before you slip back into the liminal?

Jannes:
I don't know if you can, if he could truly ever say how long he spent in that moment. Time is weird at the best of times, but when you're three months old… A moment feels like a lifetime. But after the initial pain, and longing for his mother, and the sort of recalibrating to being able to hold both, the personality of the three month old Rake. Well, the three month old Rhys, and the Rake that we know now, being able to hold them both at the same time. I think he selfishly revels in the proximity that he has with his father.

Em:
Mmhmm.

Jannes:
And the comfort and safety that he feels, and misses so dearly. And he spends a long time there. Because he knows that in the end, the time will mean nothing. And I think it's only when the child version of him drifts off to sleep,

Em:
Mm.

Jannes:
In his father's arms, that he can no longer inhabit that memory. And he finds himself back in the liminal space.

Em:
Okay. As you drift off into sleep in the arms of Avisan, you feel yourself fall backward into the slipstream. And you mentioned that you wanted to see Ever, and the man who sings at the oranges. Where would you like to go now?

Jannes:
I think viewing the Weave and the threads in front of him, even though he doesn't have a full understanding of their workings and how they are interwoven, he looks for the thread that gives him the strongest impression of Ever. And he looks for a part of it that seems to burn brightest in his view.

Em:
Hmm.

Jannes:
Not knowing fully where it will take him if he pulls on that particular part.

Em:
Mmhmm.

Jannes:
You can only imagine that the moments that are most dear to her, would appear brighter. So going on faith, he reaches for one that burns brightest, and grasps it.

Em:
Okay, so I'm gonna have you roll to wield the power again. So you're roll 2d6. And unless you're desperate, it's the same plus two.

Jannes:
A five and a two, for a total of seven plus two, is nine. Is that an overkill?

Em:
That's a hit. Okay. So, on a hit here, instead of just the two threads you saw in front of you as you did this previously, your grasp of this power is growing, and you see three threads in front of you. There is that one that burns bright. There is one that is equally as strong, but it is darker. And you see one that is a bit different. Holds the same countenance as the one that burns bright, but is a little less radiant. So reaching forward to the brightest one you can find, you search for something older, but not by far. You search for Temisset, and the man with the oranges. And you find yourself stepping into a vast willow grove within a sprawling forest. It's rich and verdant, greener than green, and teeming with life. And as you walk through here in silence, hearing birdsong and the crunch of the forest floor under your feet, you hear conversation up ahead. Seems like you're about a hundred feet behind them. You see Ever, looking maybe, six to nine months younger than when you first met her. She looks lighter, without the burdens of the world that beset her now. Freer. Her smile is less constrained, and you know that this is before Davos died. Likely before he descended into the depths of his illness, but while he was still sick. You see her walking with a man about her height. His skin, an ombre, the colours of a sunset. With small antler-like horns from his head. He walks holding her hand as they move through the woods. You see them laughing together. It’s sweet. He loves her already. And she does too. As much as she could, with what you know she tends to at home. She can't give into it fully, knowing how sick Davos is, and what she knows will be coming to follow. But she does not let that sit on her face. Do you follow them?

Jannes:
Yeah, I follow them.

Em:
Okay. You see them wind through this forest. They talk a bit further, and then they stop. She turns to face him, and you see the conversation shift to something that feels a bit uneasy between them. There's a tenseness. A topic touched that probably shouldn't have been touched. But it passes. And then she leans in and kisses him. It's a first kiss, certainly. There is no awkwardness to it, but a tentativeness. A newness, but a wanting, nonetheless. And as soon as it started, it stops. They continue walking, deeper into the wood. You continue to follow them, and you walk past where they stopped, and you see that there are small markers in the forest. Headstones. Simple remembrance sites. Some of these places are graves. Some of them are simply small odes to individuals who have passed with no body to bring home. You see the ones they stopped at. Marine and Joran Cawthorne.

Jannes:
I think the thing that strikes Rake more than the kiss, is the laughter as they walk. The way that he feels about Ever and the way that Ever feels about him… The relationship has never been one where they laugh. It is love, he's certain of that, but… It doesn't have the happiness. And the realization that she brought him here, to share something that was meaningful and important to her. A level of… Trust. There is relief in him that when it is all done, she might not have to be alone.

Em:
Mm.

Jannes:
And then there's sadness that they didn't get to share moments that would make them laugh. And he feels the tears on his face, and he hears them drop on the leaves at his feet, on the graves themselves. And he realizes that he has to make sure that when he's gone, they find each other. And that their bonds are strong enough, that when he's gone, she has the support she needs. And he thinks back to what she told him about how when Davos died, she packed her things and immediately set out. And knowing that she would have closed herself off to all things other than the purpose that was driving her, he realizes that she wouldn't have taken the time to say goodbye, and she needs a reason to come back. And he stands, not knowing when he had dropped to his knees in the first place. He takes one of the leaves, and he tucks it in his pocket, and he steps back into the liminal space.

Em:
Those two other threads stand before you. The one that is still bright, and the one with the same intensity but darker. Since you hit, you may pull at either.

Jannes:
Either but not both?

Em:
You could pull it both.

Jannes:
Rake stares at these other two threads, and he grasps the one that glows slightly less.

Em:
Okay. You slide off course in the slipstream, and instead of finding Ever in Temisset, and seeing her experience of love with the man who sings at oranges, the feeling is right, but the time is wrong. The feeling is right, but it's in the wrong place. You end up back in Hood. Outside your room at the end of a long hallway. You, as this Rake, this powerful Rake who has stepped back and wielded time itself, you're tucked around the corner and you hear the unmistakable sound of the lock on your door turning, and the door open and close. You peek around, trying to catch a glimpse, and then you see her. I want you to tell me about the girl you went to look for at Penelope's, the night your mother called. The one you've spent many nights in Hood with. The one who took your mind off of work. What's her name? What does she look like? What is she like?

Jannes:
Her name was Tabitha, but everyone just called her Tabby. She had hair that was so blonde, it was almost silver. Her skin was… was dark from the sun, but not in the same way that his skin would go dark if he spent time in the sun. It was a warmer shade of brown. She worked at the bar, and her life was simple. It was happy. He knew that part of the reason that he even caught her attention was because it was her way of adding danger and excitement to her life with this young man who would come through town. I think Rake cared for her, but I don't think Rake had any real feelings of love for Tabby. And I don't know if he, at the time knew or cared, if she loved him. But she made him feel loved. There were many people along the way that were one time encounters. But the first night that he spent with Tabby, he fell asleep before she left. And she fell asleep next to him. And when he woke in the middle of the night, gripped by the nightmare of the things he'd seen and done. Frantic, and scared. She wrapped him in her arms, and she held him until he was calm. And she became a… A person and a place that he felt safe with. And now, standing in the hallway watching her leave. I think he feels regret. And shame. Because he knows that, what he now knows, that she probably really did love him. And he used her.

Em:
As this all flashes through you, we see snippets of moments. The two of you, laughing on a dance floor. Your hand pulling hers through the streets. Fumbled kisses against the wall of a building. Pulling at buttons and buckles and laces, as you move up the set of back stairs towards your room. Your hands intertwined within sheets. And then we pull back to this day, as she gathers her skirts and tries to fix her hair quickly. You see her scrawl a note on a piece of parchment. As she kisses it, the remnants of any rouge on her lips pressing into the paper as she slides it under the door. You remember the note. It said to meet her at a different place that evening at about 6 p.m., for dinner. A residential address, here in Hood, rather than at the tavern or a shop. She grins, quickly pulling on her shoes, and she races down the hallway. Why didn't you end up going?

Jannes:
I think... I think Rake avoided going because he knew that she would never feel the same way about who he really was. That her life wasn't one that had prepared her for the darkness that was inside of him. Not truly. And it wasn't out of… It wasn't out of kindness to her. I think it was that he was scared that if she got to know him more, and see that, then he would lose the comfort that she gave him. And now I think he realizes that this was the last time that he saw her.

Em:
We follow her through the streets. This is still part of your memory, kind of. So, part of your consciousness races alongside her, as she runs back towards the shop her parents own. Candles and incense. She could never get the smell out of her hair, but you never minded. She runs inside the shop, blowing past her mother, as her mom goes to set the sign outside to open for the day.

Em (as Tabby):
“Mama, before you start, I know I didn't come home last night, but I had a good reason! He came back to town, like I said he would! He's here for a few days, and I left him a note to come to dinner, and I was wondering... It'll be bit of a surprise for him, and he's kind of someone you have to catch, in a surprise… I want you to meet him? He's a good man at heart. Mama, he would take really good care of me, I know he would, I've been kind of dropping hints every time I've seen him, and I don't think it'll take much convincing.”

Em:
Her mom who is a spitting image of her sighs heavily.

Em (as Tabby’s Mom):
“Tabitha, you could have your pick of anyone in this town. Honestly, you could. But you've chosen this one. Why?”

Em (as Tabby):
“You'll know when you meet him, Mama. He's special. He's unlike any man I've ever known, and any I will again. Please, we gotta impress him, okay? I was thinking your roast duck? With those potatoes you do on the stove top with the butter? I can run and get some from the store…”

Em:
And she trails off, as she disappears into the back room as her mom gives in, a soft smile on her face. One thing you know about Tabitha is when she sets her mind to something, she does everything in her power to get what she wants.

Em (as Tabby’s Mom):
“Alright honey, and you're sure he's coming?”

Em:
Tabby peeks her head out, a full genuine grin.

Em (as Tabby):
“I left a note for him this morning. He couldn't miss it. He'll be here.”

Em:
Did you leave Hood that day?

Jannes:
I think he did leave Hood that day, not to escape the situation. I think in his mind, he would have just not shown up, and then made some excuse like he had many times before for why he couldn't engage in more meaningful ways. But I think not long after he woke, he was called and had to leave to deal with some work his mother had for him. And then every time he went back to Hood, he didn't have the mental bandwidth to try and deal with what he knew would be a difficult situation. He came for escape, not to deal with more difficulty. I think as Rake is witnessing all of this, there's a… A deep desire in him to somehow make this right.

Em:
Hmm.

Jannes:
He's torn, because he knows that there's nothing he can do. This is a moment that's passed. And he also, he can't give her what she wants. And I think that unlike the previous times where he stepped back into the liminal space, he runs back into the liminal space.

Em:
Hmm. As you run, you feel a curse settle on you. Not one of divinity, but one laid out from another mortal. It will not bind you like those from gods, but you feel its weight nonetheless. Thou shalt never love without consequence. As you find yourself back in the slipstream once more. That dark thread in front of you. What would you like to do?

Jannes:
Rake reaches out and grabs it, but much much much more hesitant than he has at this point. He knows that the threads that he hasn't purposely set out to examine have all been incredibly uncomfortable and painful to view, and so he still reaches for it, from a place of morbid curiosity, but also with a sort of bracing for what is to come.

Em:
You feel yourself hit the target you were looking for. And you learn the name of this place, the Saileach. But the time is wrong. You find her, but the time is wrong. You step out amongst that same willow grove within that same sprawling forest. It is still rich and verdant, still greener than green, and still teeming with life. Except it is night. It is the dead of night, and you hear the sound of a cart moving about a hundred feet in front of you. You slip silently through the trees, the moonlight barely catching you as you dip behind the large wide trunks. How close do you get?

Jannes:
To the cart?

Em:
Yeah.

Jannes:
I would say close enough to see who's driving it.

Em:
Okay. You circle around, using your speed and stealth and agility to get in front. You can keep pace with the cart. And you see Ever, pulling it. She's almost singular in her purpose. Her eyes are straight ahead, and she is moving by the light of a single lantern, as if she knows where she's going. The cart looks heavy, with something large inside it draped in cloth. The thing inside the cart is just over six feet long, and broad. It looks heavy. It would have been a struggle to get into the cart, alone. And there is a shovel next to it. And all of a sudden she just stops. And she takes a quick look around, making sure she's in the right place. How she knows it's the right place, you're not sure, there are no markings. Nothing particularly special about this one place. She takes the lantern off its hook, staking it into the ground, and she begins to use the shovel to clear out a space about as big as what is in the cart. She clears the space with deliberateness and carefulness. She takes incense out of her bag, and using some of the leaves as kindling, lights four small pyres. The smell catches your nose. It's cedar and pine, and sandalwood, mixed with jasmine and violet. An earthy smell of the woods that if you weren't looking for it, you'd miss it, but distinctive here nonetheless. And then she begins to dig. She's tired, exhausted and weak. You see her body looks thinner and frailer than the Ever you know, likely through sleep deprivation and a lack of eating. She is fervent, digging at a steady, albeit slow pace, until she's about four feet down. Any deeper and she'd have a hard time hauling herself out of the hole she's dug. She's covered in dirt. She moves back to the cart, folding out a ramp from the back, and using necessary force, but as easily as she can, she slides the contents down and onto the ground next to the hole. She kneels next to it. You can hear her breathing from here, it is dead quiet. But you are just as quiet. In the lantern light, you see tears reflected on her face, that are silent, but still threaten to become louder if she loses control. And her hands shake as she moves to unwrap the fabrics. Inside you see a man, lying with his eyes closed, and dressed in fresh pressed clothing. He has brown hair tied back into a half bun, and between his hands, a sword is clasped, running almost as tall as he is. Blade is beautiful and ornate, and it glints in the lamplight, sending motes of the reflection off the trees above. There is no smell, other than a strong scent of camphor and cedar oil, likely meant to blend in with the smell of the strong incense. You see, she takes a small kit out of her satchel. She always did have everything with her, and begins to anoint the body with oils and flowers, gently arranging them just so. Once satisfied, as much as she can be, she pauses, resting a hand on his chest. And you hear her do something you've never experienced before. She begins to sing. The song is clearly a goodbye. A song meant for funerals or wakes. A song meant for grieving, that you could pour yourself into. Some words are shaking and it's not perfect, but it's not meant to be. It's hers and that's what matters. Because it's only meant to be heard by him.

Gina (as Ever): [singing through sobs]
“Of all of the comrades that e'er I had, they are sorry for my going, And of all the sweethearts that e'er I had, they would wish me one more day to stay, but since it falls unto my lot, that I should rise and you… and you should not, I'll gently rise and I'll softly call, good night and joy be with you all, good night and…”

Em:
She leans her head down, and you see her body wrack with sobs. It's now that they cut through the silence of the woods, and you know the trees are listening. The sacred nature of this place, the Saileach, even though you've just learned its name, is meant to hold space for these goodbyes. This is prayer. This is divine ritual. Slowly collecting herself, you see her move to attempt to lower the fabric containing this man into the ground. She leverages her own weight, maneuvering herself so that he is lowered with care. It doesn't matter how much time it takes, because it needs to be done right. Once finished, she stands where his feet would be above him, and she lowers her head, muttering words under her breath.

Gina (as Ever): [sobbing throughout]
“Thank you for giving me a home. Thank you for being my home. For being someone I was proud to share a name with, even though it wasn’t mine to begin with. For your strength, for your sweetness. For how you always taught me, patiently, excitedly. For how you loved me… How am I supposed to breathe without you? How am I supposed to do any of this without you? You were my life. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry for every time I ever failed you. Especially this one. I love you so much. I love you so much. I will always love you, and I will find you again. I will find you again. Let the gate be open for you, and the fire guide you. Let the waters of the world sustain you as you go on your way, with our offerings of love. And let us close what we have opened. Let fire be flame and well be water. Let the oaken door be shut.”

Em:
And then, reversing the process, she begins to shovel the dirt back into the ground. This is slower still, tired from her exhaustive efforts, but she soldiers on. It must be completed. When the last scoop of dirt is replaced into the ground, she replaces the leaves and kneels down once more. Her tears begin again as she reaches her hand out, and you see that familiar glow begin to emanate from her hands. The lamplight is dying as you see the stems of flowers begin to sprout. She stops herself, because if she let this go unbounded, you know that her grief would mean a blanket of flowers as far as the eye could see. And that would surely be noticed by anyone who walked through this part of the forest. But these will bloom in spring. They will have time to seed and root, and he will nourish them for all time, as she commits his body to the ground that he swore to protect. She rises, replaces the shovel in the cart, and gives one last look to the spot, committing it to memory, so she can find it again. She returns back to the cart, wheels it around, and begins to walk from the woods. What would you like to do?

Jannes:
I think I would walk out, and I would place my hand. And place my hand on this bed of flowers.

Em:
Mm.

Jannes:
And I'm going to attempt to wield the power.

Em:
Okay. What power would you like to wield?

Jannes:
The only one that's left to me. Power of time.

Em:
Okay. What would you like to do here?

Jannes:
I would reach down and touch the flowers, and I would like to feel this entire carpet of flowers, every one, connected. And I want to make it so that they never die.

Em:
Mmm.

Jannes:
So that even though she can't mark this grave with a permanent marking, like she would want, these flowers will always stand here. A testament to her love for him.

Em:
Okay. Hmm. So when you wield a power to do something only a god can, roll 2d6 and add one for each true statement. You've done the specific act before perfectly? No. Are you desperate for this to work?

Jannes:
For this, yes.

Em:
So you can mark one more strain.

Jannes:
That's two.

Em:
That’s two. And you're close to a shrine, lair, or domain of the god you took this power from. Not here. So that's a plus one.

Jannes:
I rolled a four and a two, for a total of six, plus one, is seven.

Em:
On a hit, seven to nine, you do it. When Ever cares for someone, she does so with a depth and a vastness that could rival the multiverse. I believe, when you first saw her, I described it as a love that could approximate divinity. And though she doesn't know it yet, and she may never unless you tell her, it seems only fitting to use divinity. To mark that love. To mark how you feel for her, for someone she loved more than anyone else in the whole world. What would you like to do?

Jannes:
Knowing that nothing I could say could hold a candle to what she said in her prayer, I will step back through into the liminal space.

Em:
As you slip through into the liminal once more, you do not receive any strain or any curse. You chose to take strain here. There is an immense grief in this space, and it must be carried. And you chose to carry it. With her, for her. Whether she will know it or not. As you decide your next move, you see that Ever is still drifting closer towards the arch. You know that you can pull one more thread of time here before she will notice you were gone longer than you intended. What would you like to do?

Jannes:
I think he would look forward, at the remaining thread of time, and sort of resolving himself and knowing what he has to do, he will reach forward and grasp the last one.

Em:
You gather yourself and reach out, and I'm gonna have you roll to wield the power once more, as you try to find the time and place you seek. Where are you going? What are you looking for?

Jannes:
I think he knows what he wants to have happen when everything is done. And he wants to be sure that that's what happens. And so, he wants to go and try and find the man who sings to fruit.

Em:
Okay. So when you wield the power to do something only a god can, roll 2d6, and add one for each true statement. You've done the specific act before perfectly. Yes. You're desperate for this to work. Are you desperate here?

Jannes:
Yeah, I am.

Em:
Okay, so you're gonna mark a strain. And you're close to a shrine, lair, or domain of the god you took this power from. Yes. So that is going to be a plus three.

Jannes:
I rolled a six.

Em:
Six plus three is nine. So on a hit, you do it. All right. It is a reach to get to this one, but you find it. Because it is not yours, and technically it is not hers, it's a bit beyond what you have had to pull for before, but there is something else here that calls to you. The night you're striving for, the place you're going, is important to you and you know why. She leaves tonight, and you want to see for yourself where she's from. You want to see Temisset. You find yourself stepping out of the rush of the liminal and you land on gravel, your feet finding purchase as you get your bearings. It's night, maybe 7 or 8 p.m., and you see the rich verdants of the woods cusping between late summer and early autumn. Effigy and totem to Thlaspi sit on fence posts and road signs, a welcoming for a god that they know is long gone. But as you know, tradition runs deep, and sometimes it's all we can hold on to when the world gets very, very dark. The dark. You can see well here, where you are, and you have landed at a crossroads. Three paths on this gravel road intersect. One, leading west into town, where you hear some reverie even from out here. The village readying itself for the festival that'll happen tomorrow. Tavern’s likely the only thing still open, if that's what you seek. The second leads into the wood itself. South, you reckon. The path Ever must have taken upon her leaving. This path likely diverges later, the safer road circumventing the Wildwood that you found yourself in earlier with your jaunts to find her through the slipstream. And one right through the temperate rainforest itself. You smell the rich loam and soil from here, and though this path would certainly harbour dangers in the woods, you feel no fear looking at it. The woods here are revered, sacred and holy. All creatures within, answering to some aspect of divinity, paying their respects to Thielia and her sacrifice for the Cradle. And finally, you see a path that heads north. It curves around a bend, and as you're trying to get a sense of what could be up there, you pick up the smell of foxglove and violets on the breeze. It's faint, but your keen senses wouldn't miss that anywhere. What path would you like to take?

Jannes:
I'd actually like to use a move.

Em:
Okay, which move would you like to use?

Jannes:
I like to use feel someone, or in this case something, out.

Em:
Okay. So, when you try to feel out a person, place or thing, say what you want clarity about and answer one. The GM will give you the clarity you seek as they answer the other. What do you want clarity about here?

Jannes:
I think he's looking for some sort of indication of where he's most likely to find Verek.

Em:
So you're gonna answer one of these two questions and I will answer the other. The first question is, what feels welcoming on the surface? And the second question is, what feels dark or unnerving as I peer deeper?

Jannes:
I think I have to answer the first one, I think what feels welcoming on the surface is, the smells of this place are the smells of her. Even after all this time that she's been away, she smells like this place. And I think It makes him feel safe, and, almost at home.

Em:
Hmm. And what feels dark or unnerving as you peer deeper. Your eyes flit between the pathway heading into town and the pathway that veers up around the bend. While she smells like Temisset, and Temisset thus smells like her, the smell coming from around the bend is stronger, is more alive. Because in this time, she's still here. You would understand in this moment taking the time to tap into these feelings, that you're likely to find Verek in town. You know that Ever’s farmhouse sits on the edge of the town. And with the smell of those rich, late blooming flowers, the Halassian farmhouse is likely what is around the bend. And I think what unnerves you, is that while you came here to see Verek, your feet are already pointing in the direction of the hill.

Jannes:
Rake is usually someone who makes decisions quickly, and moves on gut. And I think in this moment, he finds himself incredibly torn. He came here for a very specific task, and now… I think he finds himself thinking, I have time. And, I think he would creep towards her house.

Em:
Okay. You let yourself go in the direction your feet were already trying to lead you. You wander up the path, and you walk, quiet and silently as you always do, further and further, about five to ten full minutes up the path. The smell getting stronger, seeing a few other dwellings, and then there it is. A small offshoot, up to a large farmhouse. The garden is massive, but of course it is. In some parts of it, it's overgrown, but that doesn't take away from its beauty. It's wild. You see ivy curling down from the trees and spreading onto a large hedge that likely gives the house some semblance of privacy, though it is still quite secluded from the village. There's a simple fence that's barely keeping everything in, with a closed gate that bars a walkway up to the front door. You can see some light on in the house, but from where you're standing outside the gate, you don't see anything else. What would you like to do?

Jannes:
Looking at the house, is there, is there a window or something that I would be able to look through without being noticed? It is evening, correct?

Em:
It is, it’s about seven or eight in the evening.

Jannes:
And the lights are lit inside, therefore she's not likely to be able to see out into the darkness. But I'm still looking for a vantage point that would give me some sort of cover.

Em:
Mhmm. Okay. You are well used to this. Everything before you met her, and even the work that you've been doing now, if we can call it work, has been about maintaining the advantage of being hidden. It is very easy for you to flip into a place of stealth. You don't use the gate because it could squeak. So you quickly and easily hop up over the fence. Takes nothing. You go closer, and you hide yourself amidst some shrubbery, and on the other side of the hedge, and you hear a door open onto the veranda off the side of the house, and you see her step out, shaking a blanket and some linens before pulling the last of the laundry off of her lines. She tucks them under her arms, and she adjusts some of the garland and offerings left on the porch. There are gourds set amongst candles burning softly, swaying in the breeze, wreathed with salmonberries and bramble. You see a jug of wine, full, with two glasses. This is an offering for the gods, and something to keep the townsfolk from asking questions if they were to come by. Her eyes seem to draw over this makeshift shrine, perhaps in prayer, perhaps in thought. You know she's mourning. You can feel her grief from here, it's raw and unfiltered, the same as when you met her on the steps of Lybica, and she doesn't think anyone's watching her. So why would she hide how she feels? She looks tired. Her hair is a mess. You can see ink stains on her hands, and you hear a long sigh as she takes in the start of the chill of the night air. What would you like to do?

Jannes:
If I glanced into the window, do I notice… What do I see? What does the place look like?

Em:
Inside, you see the soft orange and yellow light of oil lamps lit around the room. You see some papers and notebooks strewn across the tables. You see walls and walls of herbs and tinctures and salves, all in bottles labeled with her neat handwriting. You see garlic and herbs, and dried flowers, hanging from beams on the ceiling. You see her working space. You take a moment, even though she's on the veranda, and you can almost see her working, literally burning midnight oil, sitting in this offshoot of their kitchen. She seems so small in this big house. It's too big. And you know based on the timeline that it's only been about, three weeks to a month, since she's been alone in it.

Jannes:
I think he would stand there, longer than you probably should. And he almost feels the same desire to move closer that he did at the crossroads.

Em:
Mmhmm.

Jannes:
Just so that she wouldn't be so alone.

Em:
Hmm.

Jannes:
And I think that just further confirms for him that he could never put her in the position again where she would be alone.

Em:
Yeah.

Jannes:
He, his hand sort of I think instinctively comes up to the pane of glass. Feeling the warmth from inside of the house. Imagining almost like, the… Sort of almost caressing the glass as if he was caressing her cheek.

Em:
Hmm.

Jannes:
And then he sets his jaw, turns on his heel, and makes for the town.

Em:
I think in your resolve, that measured and practiced demeanour that you hold so strongly, falters for just a second. And you're a little bit careless. The gate. You go through it, unthinking. And you hear it latch shut. A sound you didn't intend to make, but couldn't help. As you walk back down the gravel road, do you look back?

Jannes:
He wants to.

Em:
But do you?

Jannes:
He doesn't, I think with every step that he takes, he starts slowly, brick by brick, building a wall around the feelings that he has for Ever. Protecting them, but also distancing himself from them.

Em:
Almost everything with her, for you, has been new. The feelings you've had, the way you've approached them. But this? Shutting yourself off? That's practiced. You know how to do that. Time and time again, you've done that. Whether for your own sake, or for somebody else's. You make your way back down the gravel road, it widening as you get closer into town, to allow for the carts and wagons to make their way into the center of Temisset. You easily make it into the town square, no problem. It too, all done up and prepared for the festival. You see fabrics of red and orange, ochre and green, bunting and banners hanging from every structure that can hold them. The woods in Temisset are not the only thing here that seems to be teeming with life. You look around and you see a few taverns, each with their own flavour of clientele, but the largest and most filled one seems to be The Dancing Dryad. It takes up almost a full side of the bottom floor of one side of the town square, with tables arranged not only inside but out. You hear a fiddler inside, and you see waitstaff moving from table to table, balancing large trays of mead, wine, and ale. And you smell this rich, hearty, meaty smell, like stew or meat pie. What would you like to do?

Jannes:
I think I would enter the tavern, and glance around and see if I can find someone who resembles the young man that I saw before.

Em:
You know who you're looking for. Just moments ago for you, you saw them walking through the Saileach. You go inside, and while you very clearly have the demeanour and attire of a traveler, there are other travelers here. It wouldn't be uncommon for folks from surrounding villages to make their way towards Temisset, the largest village up north, other than Bright Rise, especially for the Autumn Festival. Your eyes scan the room, and you find someone matching his description seated around the back of a long bar, nursing a glass of ale to himself. Christian, tell me how Verek looks right now, sitting here at the bar. You haven't seen nor heard from Ever in about two to three months, despite leaving a dozen letters on her doorstep and asking after her in town.

Christian:
It takes a lot for someone of my make to be drunk, but he's a little drunk, and he's solitary, he's removed from everyone else at this place. And he's whispering to himself. He's having a conversation with himself, so he looks... He looks a bit manic. If you didn't know who he was, you'd guess he might be the town drunk.

Em:
How often do you come to the tavern?

Christian:
I never used to drink, but she hasn't answered and so… This feels less lonely. So, uh, I've been here. I come here after every unanswered letter.

Em:
Hmm. You left one a couple days ago. Still nothing.

Christian:
Yeah.

Em:
And I think the thing that bothers you the most is that, you know she's receiving them, because they aren't just sitting in a pile on her doorstep. They're gone each time. Rake, you see him. You see the man who sings to the oranges. He's distracted. He has not seen you. He hasn't looked up from his ale. What would you like to do?

Jannes:
I think I see him, and I see… I see loneliness in just a different shade of what I saw earlier.

Em:
Hmm. Mhmm.

Jannes:
And, I take a moment. I've played this game before. I've had to make people like me to get what I want. Consider my best approach. Sort of nod to myself. And as I walk from the door towards him, you see my stride change from the usual confidence that I have. I sort of droop my shoulders a little bit, slow my step, and I take the seat next to him, and let out a long sigh.

[Rake sighs]

Christian:
My shoulders straighten up and I, it's a quick sobering moment and I, I smell the air.

Christian (as Verek):
“Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes? Who are you?”

Jannes (as Rake):
“Just a weary traveler.”

Christian (as Verek):
“Forgive me for being forward, but you smell like someone I know.”

Jannes (as Rake):
“Do I?”

Jannes:
I kind of sniff at my clothes.

Jannes (as Rake):
“Yes, did, I had to cross through a bunch of, flowers on my way here. I guess the scent is still on me.”

Christian (as Verek):
“No, it's not the flowers, it's the… Where are you traveling from? You're new here. I know everyone here.”

Jannes (as Rake):
“Oh, I'm just, just passing through. I've recently lost someone, and, um… Just looking for a place to try and forget a little.”

Christian (as Verek):
“Well, I know about forgetting, I know about trying to forget. I've lost someone too.”

Jannes (as Rake):
“Who?”

Christian (as Verek):
“That’s misleading, I've, uh, I’ve lost someone who's still here.”

Jannes (as Rake):
“Well, that's the hardest kind of loss.”

Christian (as Verek):
“It is.”

Jannes (as Rake):
“Is this the person that the scent reminded you of?”

Christian (as Verek):
“Yes.”

Jannes (as Rake):
“How did you lose her?”

Christian (as Verek):
“I don't know. I don't know, she… You know, sometimes when you, when you're in a place and that place reminds you of someone and that person is inaccessible, it's like living with a ghost. That's how I feel. I walk through the town, I come here, I have a drink. [chuckles] I write my silly little letters. I know she won't answer. But she's gone. I've lost her. She's lost someone. I think… I think ghosts do that. They dance with you.”

Jannes (as Rake):
“So you've seen her?”

Christian (as Verek):
“[chuckles] What a silly question. I see her now. I see her always. She’s, she's right here. I need another drink.”

Jannes (as Rake):
“I'll get this one for you. We’ll take two, please.”

Jannes:
I sort of gesture to the bartender.

Em:
You see a very familiar waitress comes over to you, Verek, and she kind of looks at the both of you and she... There is a kindness to her face. She knows exactly who you are, Verek. This is Remi.

Em (as Remi):
“Are you sure, Verek?”

Christian (as Verek):
“I'm sure. The strong stuff, Remi. The strong stuff.”

Em (as Remi):
“Well, I guess if it's on someone else's tab.”

Jannes (as Rake):
“I'll have the same.”

Em (as Remi):
“Okay.”

Em:
She dips behind the bar. She pulls a dark brown bottle off the top shelf, pouring two fingers first, and then a third of a dark brown alcohol. Smells like very fine whiskey. And she slides them both in your direction. She nods and she leaves.

Jannes (as Rake):
“She said your name was, was Verek, is that correct?”

Christian (as Verek):
“Oh, yes. Firesong, Verek. Firesong. What a stupid name.”

Jannes (as Rake):
“Firesong?”

Christian (as Verek):
“Yeah.”

Jannes (as Rake):
“Of, of, are you, you wouldn't happen to be one of those one of the people who can sing the fire into the fruit, would you?”

Christian (as Verek):
“Do you know a secret? I'll tell you a secret, friend. Secrets are best for strangers. Isn't that funny? I, I can't do it.”

Jannes (as Rake):
“Can’t do it?”

Christian (as Verek):
“Unlike everyone else in my family, I can't do it unless I feel the fire.”

Jannes (as Rake):
“Hm. Well, Verek, nice to meet you, my name is Rhys.”

Christian (as Verek):
“Rhys. Strange name, traveler.”

Jannes (as Rake):
“Strange traveler.”

Christian (as Verek):
“Hmph. What brings you to our sleepy little town?”

Jannes (as Rake):
“Well, I actually, I came to meet the people who sing the fire in the fruit. So it's quite fortuitous to run into you here at the bar.”

Christian (as Verek):
“I'm sorry to disappoint. It's a neat party trick.”

Jannes (as Rake):
“So when you sing to the fruit, the fire, it lights immediately?”

Christian (as Verek):
“Well, the fire's there. The fire's in the vines, in the soil. We turn it on, I guess. We sing to it. We coax it. Like an ember.”

Jannes (as Rake):
“And you don't feel your fire anymore?”

Christian (as Verek):
“I wouldn't say I don't feel it. I've been burned by it. I feel only the ash. I feel the ash. My fruit is… Dust.”

Jannes (as Rake):
“Hmm.”

Christian (as Verek):
“I've written these letters to the woman I love. She doesn't write back. There's no fire there. There's no fire there. But I pretend... I have to make my family happy. She’s, she's my family. Was my family. The hope of a family. That's the thing I smell on you, the hope. I smell the hope, Rhys.”

Jannes (as Rake):
“The person I lost, I lost before I had the chance to tell her how I felt. Before I had even the realization that hope was a possibility. If I could tell you one thing I would say, you have to tell her how you feel. Would you write a letter to the fruit?”

Christian (as Verek):
“Would you?”

Jannes (as Rake):
“If I could do it again. I would grab them and never let them go. I would tell them so they could see it in my face. I would make them understand. The fire might not be there anymore, but it's in the things you do, it's in the place around you. You just have to draw it forth. Coax that ember.”

Christian (as Verek):
“Well, your, your comfort is kind. I will offer a comfort of my own for you, Rhys, traveler. My father says the music is in the space between the notes. What's unsung. She knew. He knew. They knew. Whoever it is you love, they knew. They always know. The singing, the notes. It steals a little of the magic. Two fools, you and I [chuckles].”

Jannes (as Rake):
“Very much so. I think, I can't change what happened with me. But, I think you should go see her. Why haven't you?”

Christian (as Verek):
“Fear.”

Jannes (as Rake):
“Of what? Being rejected? Is that not how you feel already?”

Christian (as Verek):
“Confirmation of the rejection, Rhys.”

Jannes (as Rake):
“Oh, you cannot fear that. Look. Look at what it does to you. If she rejects you, then be ash. But till you know… No, I think it's decided. You must go to her. Tonight. Now.”

Christian (as Verek):
“Come with me, Rhys.”

Christian:
And I'm going to get up.

Christian (as Verek):
“Remi, put it on my tab. We'll be back. Follow me.”

Jannes:
Gets up and he follows.

Christian:
I lead him out of the bar, and I stand there and I sort of gain my bearings. I am a bit, you know, three sheets to the wind as they say, but I shake it off and [sighs] I feel the cold air on my face.

Christian (as Verek):
“Over here, I think, over here.”

Christian:
And I lead him behind the bar and there's a little patch of strawberries that have been growing. And they're not mine, but they exist. They make a particularly strong strawberry alcohol here. And I help sometimes, but I’ve been useless so far. And I kneel down and… And I hum. Nothing happens at first. It's weak. But then I think about what he said. That I should go to her. And slowly you can see a pulsing happening. This strawberry that wasn't quite ripe is becoming ripe, quickly. And the pulse grows. And on the inside, you can see a little flame starting to grow. And when it looks like it's about ready, I pick it.

Christian (as Verek):
“This is for you. It's not my best work, but you came all this way for a song from the Firesongs. I don’t know if it's the liquid courage or your words, but I will go to her. And you will have this.”

Jannes:
He would take it. Tuck it away.

Jannes (as Rake):
“Go tonight.”

Christian (as Verek):
“Tonight?”

Jannes (as Rake):
“Tonight. You never know when she, if she might be there the next day.”

Christian (as Verek):
“I'm in no [laughs] I’m in no condition to see her tonight.”

Jannes (as Rake):
“I think you're just fine.”

Jannes:
And he's going to reach forward and put his hand on his shoulder, and I would like to wield a power.

Em:
Okay. What would you like to do here?

Jannes:
I have the power of time.

Em:
You do.

Jannes:
I would like to do something I've never done before or even attempted. I don't want to affect time on a large scale. I want to be able to speed up the time specifically for how he's processing alcohol. I want to sober him up.

Em:
Incredible. Okay. So when you wield a power to do something only a god can, roll 2d6, and add one for each true statement. You've done this specific act before perfectly. No. You're desperate for this to work. Are you desperate?

Jannes:
No.

Em:
And you're close to a shrine, lair, or domain of the god you took this power from. Not here.

Jannes:
Not anymore.

Em:
So that's just 2d6, and that's a flat roll.

Jannes:
I rolled a ten.

Em:
Okay, so on an overkill, ten plus, the GM will describe how you also drain, terrify, or wreck once around you.

Jannes:
I think I know how this overkill would affect the surrounding area.

Em:
Absolutely. Go ahead.

Jannes:
I think as he places his hand on his shoulder, he starts to manipulate time to speed up that process of sobering. And then he thinks back to sitting in the room with Tayo.

Em:
Hmm.

Jannes:
And how he asked them for one very specific gift. The ability to sing like a Firesong.

Em:
Yes.

Jannes:
I think he starts to hum.

Em:
Hmm.

Jannes:
Almost a harmonized version of what he had just, he's just heard, and as he does, because he is different, I think Verek would see that patch of strawberries start to desiccate as he draws the life out of the surrounding plants. But at the same time, in his chest, he feels an ember. Not a full fire yet. But the start of one. As Rhys starts to almost sing fire into Verek.

Em:
Hmm. You feel that warmth in your chest sitting just behind your sternum, Rake, and it's not uncomfortable. And I think part of you wonders if he feels like this all the time. Verek, his hand on your shoulder is warm and comforting. And then all of a sudden you feel like you have dipped your face in cold water and had the strongest cup of coffee directly into your veins. You are completely sober. And you have no idea how he did that.

Christian (as Verek):
“Who are you?”

Jannes (as Rake):
“Like I said, I'm a man who came to find the Firesongs.”

Christian (as Verek):
“My family, we guard the lyrics, the words, they hold magic. I wrote this one for her. I will share them with you.”

Jannes (as Rake):
“No. No. Go sing it to her.”

Christian:
I would like to do two things at once. I'd like to connect with this man in front of me.

Em:
Okay.

Christian:
And I'd like to pray at the same time, because, to me, Ever’s name has always been a prayer on my lips.

Em:
It has.

Christian:
And I will take my hands and place them on his cheeks, and I will say,

Christian (as Verek):
“Thank you. I will go to her, I will go to Ever.”

Jannes (as Rake):
“Tell her how you feel.”

Christian (as Verek):
“I will. But she already knows. But I will.”

Em:
So what we're going to do here is I am going to go through these moves, connect with someone first, and pray for guidance second. But instead of me answering the other question, Rake, I'm going to have you do that. So, when you try to connect with someone, tell them something intimate, which you did, and answer one. The GM, or in this case, Rake, will reveal a fragment of their pain as they answer the other. Christian, the two questions are here for Verek. What common ground do we share? And what still divides us? Pick one of those questions and this traveler will answer the other.

Christian:
I think the answer to both of those questions. So, I'll let you answer which one you want, Rake, but, unrequited love.

Em:
Which one would you have him answer?

Christian:
What common ground do we share?

Em:
I think it's interesting that you chose that the answer to what still divides us, is unrequited love. So what common ground do you share, Rake?

Jannes:
Both of our prayers are the same.

Christian:
I think in that moment, as I pull myself away from this inexplicable fracture in time and space, and whoever this person is, and I start making my way towards Ever. Something pulls me back to this stranger, this traveler, and I stand there and I don't turn around but I just say, almost in my head, because for some reason I think he can hear it, but it's a whisper, and I say,

Christian (as Verek):
“You love a person. You love a person, but you believe in a symbol. And she's… She's who I believe in.”

Christian:
And then I start to hum. And as that humming takes place in my chest and then moves to my throat and then to my head, I start to sing.

Em:
Hmm. I think in that moment, Verek, as you're walking away, the only way I can describe your connection to this traveler is holy. And there is always gonna be a bond there between the two of you, even though you don't know his name, you don't know where he came from. But you know he understands what you feel. And so rolling through that, this prayer for guidance that I think comes from you subconsciously, whether you want it to or not, that divine moment calling to something bigger, something broader, something deeper that sits in the magic of the universe itself, that magic that you tap into when you sing, the magic that you feel when you look at her. Something bigger than all this. And in this moment when you pray for guidance, name the aid you seek here and answer one of the following questions. And we'll describe the aid that actually comes as you answer the other. So first, I'd love you to tell me what aid you're seeking.

Christian:
I can't finish the lyric for her. I’m, I've been working on this, this lyric for a while, I can't finish it. And I'm, I'm praying to whatever gods are out there to give me the perfect line.

Jannes:
And I think as you're walking away. You hear Rhys say, also under his breath, but it floats on the wind to you.

Jannes (as Rake):
“Forever, for Ever.”

Christian (as Verek):
“I've loved you forever, Ever, forever, Ever. Thank you.”

Em:
That's the aid that actually comes. But of course with this move, we also must answer. What kind of god answers your prayers? What unclear omens or visions besiege you as you walk away, towards the farmhouse, humming this tune?

Christian:
I’m emboldened. I feel courage. That flame is flickering, and starting to grow into a wildfire, but for a moment I see in my mind's eye, me, sitting on her steps, old and grey and broken and alone. But I push it away. And I keep moving forward.

Em:
Rake, if you had to take a guess, what kind of god helped you do that? What kind of god helped you answer his prayers?

Jannes:
I think because he is still connected, he is in this present time, but he's still connected to that liminal space between all times. I think the god that answers him, or that gave him that, was The Feathered Mistress.

Em:
Interesting. Prayer has power. Those we invoke in prayer have power. And what a gift you give me saying that came from her. You watch Verek leave, Rake, you know where he's going and what happens next, and you feel yourself beginning to drift. The edges of Temisset around you as you watch him walk back up towards that crossroad where you landed, begins to blend. And just as you're about to step in and let yourself go, behind you, and to your right, you hear a flapping of wings and something land on a fence post.

Jannes:
I turn and look.

Em:
You see a large white raven, perched still as death, and it's staring right at you.

Jannes:
I nod my head at the raven.

Em:
If a bird could smile, cocking its head to one side. You know that look. You know who that is. No question about it.

Jannes:
I think I look at the raven, and I start readying myself to step back into that liminal space where I know I'll be safe. And as I'm just starting to fade I say,

Jannes (as Rake):
“You taught me how to destroy. But he taught me how to love. And what a terrifying combination that is. I'll see you soon, Mother.”

Jannes:
And I step backwards. And as I step backwards, I place the last brick on that wall in my soul. A cairn. Next to the one for my father. And I step back into the liminal space.

[Light & Dark: Series Theme by Sean McRoberts]

Em:
Godkiller: Balance is performed by Em Carlson, Gina Susanna & Jannes Wessels. The voice of Verek Firesong is Christian Navarro. This season’s dramaturge is Tim Carlson. Special thanks to our campaign artist, Mischi, who you can find @Mischiart on twitter! Our main theme for this episode, Light & Dark, was composed by Sean McRoberts. Music and effects by Epidemic Sound. For more stories, come follow us everywhere at @blackwaterdnd, and make sure to check out our Main Campaign on Monday nights at 8pm PST at twitch.tv/blackwaterdnd. To play your own campaign of Godkiller and dive into your own divinity, go support Godkiller by purchasing the ashcan on itch.io today, with the print version published soon by Evil Hat Productions. This show is made possible by our sponsors who graciously support us playing pretend and having feelings about it. We are grateful to be sponsored by Heroforge, who offer fully customizable miniatures made with their online 3D character creator! Head on over and design your own Godkiller, and get them printed in a variety of materials, including colour printing options! With new content added each week, check out www.heroforge.com to start bringing your character to life! This show is also proudly sponsored by Moonbeam, a better and safer way to stream! Dive into Realms for vibrant community hubs where creators keep 100% of what they earn while protected by Pyxis, a revolutionary moderation tool that learns and adapts to your boundaries. So check them out and join Moonbeam today! Finally, we’re thankful for our Patrons for joining us on our second journey through the Cradle. You too can come join us on Patreon, where you can check out behind the scenes info, our talkback show Chatwater, as well as exclusive Godkiller bonus content and so much more. Head on over to patreon.com/blackwaterdnd for all the info. See you next time, heretics, and to all the gods out there, be safe!