“I am definitely interested,” Samantha replied to the ash-gushing volcano. “Are there any issues? I know you- er, your children hold a lot of grudges and don’t forgive them easily. I’m seeking to unify everyone under one federation banner. The minotaurs aren’t particularly known for venturing outside of their lands, at least not in the south.”

  “They mimic me,” the mountain god said. “I cannot venture beyond the mountains and the majority of what strength I provide is localized. The culture has centered and adapted around this, molding even belief itself. The Zedwarorra will remain. Nonetheless, others can lead beyond. They will work with who they need to and carry our will to the end. They will go to war.”

  “Is there a catch? I don’t have to go on some quest for you?”

  A rumble that might’ve been confusion. “No. The Eater of Memory, the Sage of Man, quested endlessly to eradicate my children. None ever persecuted them more. Humans barely feuded with us at all before he betrayed the peacefulness of aeons. We spent many generations seeking the stars and the stimulation of dreams for omens to understand how we might stop him. All we found was the end of all vision, but there, at least, he might suffer defeat in the Final Conflict. So we waited. You are the completion of a quest, Samantha. One of retribution and justice. You rouse the south and align it, which we could never do. The north will descend and smash him between us like two righteous fists.”

  Sammy was loving every word. “Or two rocks, am I right?”

  A great rumble. “Yes. Much more metaphysically hard that way.”

  “I suppose you’re going to wait until we’re campaigning more? I could use some help in Caneboro. It’s going to become a hotbed soon.”

  “Heat is a problem for my children, who prefer the biting cold on their fur. This place is in the humid tropical swamp area south of the Dividers?”

  “Dividers? Caneboro is a bit north of the mountain range known as the Baiz Risi. Homeland of the giants. Where Gelmak and I are right now.”

  “Ah. Of course. Tell Gelmak to cut some of his fur for better comfort. That locale may be tolerable to the well-fit and adjustable warriors. Perhaps we will arrange more intricate shapeshifting, both to hide our interference before the time is ripe and to improve tolerance of the climate. A band of our elites for Gelmak to champion. His status and heroics should inspire them tremendously.”

  “That sounds great. I’d definitely appreciate it. And that’s quite a journey, isn’t it? Judging by his alias, Gelmak came by sea. When you’re ready to send them, we can probably arrange a much faster method, especially in small numbers.”

  “So be it. How clandestine do you wish your name? I would share it with Zedwara Elkei Oeswa-Bessi for better information exchange than with me. I don’t get along well with time. She can let you know when things become ready to execute.”

  “I’m sure that’ll be fine!”

  “Excellent.” Thunder resounded in the ashy sky.

  Sammy couldn’t resist. “Why did you choose this wasteland as a meeting place, if I may ask?”

  “In the bedrock, things decline much slower. Not memory as mortals know it. Age and persistence like a rich, inner structure. Far and wide it extends, and the song it sings is why I first existed — to know, to record, to give it meaning. I cannot forget my nature. The physical merely continues, even now, ever active in stress, if less stressed by time than mortals. This? A key beginning, a struggle, a joining.”

  “Wow. Are y- are you saying this is the mountain range’s locale before there were complex lifeforms? Or mountains at all other than this volcano?”

  “I am unsure about the everchanging crawlers and growers. Eventually, the whole of it made me into something. Ever more specific, or like branches of me blooming, but I’ve lost so much of the interim. My psyche reaches back instead to the warmth that persists before. Simply being. Never being truly remembered, it could not be forgotten.”

  Before Sammy’s eyes, the entire environment sped up tremendously, the volcano spewing multiple times and changing the landscape and growing, eventually dying. Slowly, a mountain range grew up as far as she could see left and right, higher and higher and higher. Eventually, the sky began changing color, and the rapidly orbiting moon grew smaller and slower. Indefinite shapes grew over everything, their details foggy. The sky went blue and the ground blossomed in shifting colors, and then all grew over with ice. When it thawed, green became evident, but the high, high peaks ever retained their snow caps. The progress slowed, and everything looked more similar to what one might expect of Calrenazzod. Much, much earlier, but similar.

  “What is your nature?” Sammy asked. “What are you in all of this? The original volcano, now the highest peak?”

  If a mountain could shrug, it did. “Closer to the way of my children’s belief and the specificity lent to me to branch. But, I am more. Or was. Time confuses me. All is connected below; my domain is me. I am not conveniently isolated like my children. The Eater of Memory would prefer I be — to wound — but my blood is only spilled through my children. To be slain: left alone and forgotten even to the weeds. Still, would it be many ages for me to die.”

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  “So you’re the whole damn mountain range!”

  A rumble, likely amusement. “Closer to the older truth. Samantha, we are always who we are believed to be. Needed to be, by those who inhabit us. There are no lies in this, merely multiple truths. Partitioned souls. All who survived the Eater in some way embraced or were already embracing this power of ours.”

  “Yeah. I understand. It’s no different than what I did. I’ve already become so many of those ‘partitioned souls.’ I’ve struggled with what it does to the original me.” She looked off to the side, seeing the beginning of a forest where once there was nothing but gray rock. A forest of weird, spiny trees, but still trees. “I was human not so long ago. Mortal.”

  “A facing, a branch. If you remember, it is not dead.”

  “I think it’s blended together with the other souls. I don’t ‘partition’ so well, I suppose. Anyway, I should get back. Thank you for everything.”

  “You’re welcome. Don’t forget about Gelmak. Short fur. And, if you would, have someone feed him extra. Your kind might not be culturally used to the appetite of a minotaur and his nutrition is very important. He would be too polite to ask even while starving himself.”

  Sammy could not keep a grin off of her face at the epic mountain god worrying over one mortal. “I’ll make sure that’s accounted for. Absolutely.” She hesitated before leaving. “I gotta ask… I’ve heard legends about Nu’Rammata being a pinnacle fighter. Is that your Avatar? Do you really fight hand-to-hand?”

  “I will answer you, but first I must swear you to absolute secrecy. Your word, please.”

  “I solemnly swear and give my word I won’t reveal the secret of the Nu’Rammata Avatar, or whatever it is.”

  “Are you thereby guessing it is not an Avatar?”

  “I’m gonna go with yes.”

  “Then you would be correct. It’s an animated construct, but nonetheless unmatched and tied to the strength of the land. Due to the war and rampant use that it was put to — combined with my separation from it — belief pouring into it by my children changed it. Changed the persona I had injected. It became a being of war and rage. When the war was done, I realized I had lost control entirely. Though it wanted to march, it could not journey out of our territory. Enraged, it began fighting my children and nearly started a civil war. The first in aeons.

  “Through our combined efforts, we finally beat it into submission and I was able to send it into dormancy. Imprison it. Sleeping helps keep it docile. Unless there is an invasion, I believe I can keep it contained until the end.”

  Sammy was wide-eyed. “Holy shit!”

  “I know this phrase. ‘Holy shitstorm’ is more apt.”

  “You think?! Wow, I had no idea. I was picturing some sort of jovial, indestructible giant.”

  “That is one truth. The original truth — until the troubled times. Since then, we’ve kept the altered truth clandestine, embarrassed by our failure. My failure, mostly. It is terrible to my children, who do not war for conquest amidst me any longer. They have sporting war games only. Injuries occur and some die accidentally, but not like the intentions of true war, and civilization remains stable.”

  “I guess the moral of the story is there is always a price to pay for power.”

  “I am under different and more ancient restrictions than those such as you or my children. I cannot form an Avatar. I can do more indirectly but nothing directly. That or I have forgotten how to.”

  “I see. At least you’re harder to kill, too.”

  “Yes.”

  “Welp, my curiosity is satiated. Thanks again. Hopefully, we talk again someday.”

  “Perhaps we will. I am pleased the meeting went well. I hope my children and your kind get along in peace at this late hour. Farewell.”

  “We’re of one mind, there. Farewell!” Sammy pushed herself out of the mindscape and quickly found herself staggering a bit in her own body.

  Gelmak was standing and watching her very closely, his arms held out slightly and poised, something Sammy quickly realized was him being ready to catch her if she fell.

  Aww. He’s really a considerate gent, isn’t he?

  Sammy rubbed her face and blew out a breath. “How long was I out?”

  “A little bit,” Gelmak replied. “It seems that you have spoken with Father Mountain and all is well! I’m very glad, Goddess. Congratulations!”

  “Thanks. Yes. It seems we have an alliance. Oh! I’m supposed to tell you to cut down your fur more to be comfortable in the weather.” She decided she wouldn’t mention the food thing since the mountain god was more requesting it be arranged than commanding him.

  Gelmak’s ear twitched. “Yes. Of course. Thank you.” He bowed his head.

  “If you need anything or assistance, please ask. Say you will, hmm?”

  “I will. Goddess, I must now present your other two gifts, as given by the Zedwarorra in return for your blessings to our world.” He pulled off a small satchel or backpack he had on his belt. He knelt to open it and take something out.

  He held up a small disk in the palm of his massive hand. It was made of bronze polished almost to a golden sheen, all ornate and very flower-like with concentric pedal designs. “Ardioq,” Gelmak declared. “Emblem of Warding Precious Worth. Zedwar Den Wa Koharra’s finest work, forged for Little Sister alone. Though it appears to be a humble cloak brooch, it changes into a larger shield to protect you in battle.”

  Next up, the Shoes of Dancing All Night 'Cause We Got Dance Fever 4Eva!

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