“Ah, the young, so impatient, so passionate. I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed this, being out and about in the world, interacting with people again.”
“I’m not young. I wasn’t young when I came to this plane, and I’ve been here for over a thousand years. I have never met one that feels like you. You feel… like me, but not.”
He cocked his head to the side, trying to sift through the swirling energy that surrounded the other, but it was muted somehow.
It grinned. “I am like you… but not.”
Bryn hissed and took a step forward, but the other held up a hand. “You don’t want to do that. Believe me. I was not created to be a fighter. It isn’t in my makeup. But there are other ways to win a battle, and I’m old enough to know most of them.”
Bryn narrowed his eyes but didn’t attack. He wasn’t an impetuous human to be easily goaded into making a rash mistake when he did not know what he faced. Instead of rushing the creature, he took one deliberate step forward, and for the briefest moment, the power around the other pulsed stronger.
“I know your scent, your vibration,” Bryn said, only just realizing it. “Yesterday, when the Seer collapsed with his prophecy, the feeling was the same.”
The other actually flushed, its grin widening. “I’m not usually so obvious, but desperate times and all that.”
“The priest, Tas, says prophecies come from the gods, but Lyuc does not believe in gods. Which is it? Are you a god, or was it some kind of trick?”
The other grinned wider. “Both.”
As if it were enjoying itself, the other dropped to the ground and folded its legs under it, still grinning up at Bryn like a mischievous child. With an irritated sigh, Bryn moved closer and sat on the ground across from it.
“You speak in riddles.”
“Not riddles, exactly, but I can’t make it too easy. Where would be the fun in that?”
“Are we having fun?”
“I am.”
“The prophecy was yours, so you know what it means.”
“No and yes.”
Bryn clenched his teeth. The last time he’d met another being similar to himself and sentient enough to talk, he’d had to help Lyuc destroy it. He kind of wanted to learn a bit more this time, but he didn’t like being toyed with.
“No, the prophecy isn’t yours, but yes, you know what it means?”
After casting a glance over its shoulder, the other’s smile gentled. “I’d like to play with you longer, but I haven’t much time, so I’ll try to be as helpful as my nature will allow. I should have said the prophecy isn’t solely mine. Seers sense the patterns of the world around them but aren’t advanced enough to take it all in, so they get flashes of the most probable events. I just helped him along a little.”
“By making him spout a riddle?” Bryn huffed.
“As I said, it is as much as my nature will allow. They would have sent someone else, but their natures don’t allow for quite as much interference in the world of men as mine does. My sole purpose for existing on this plane is to stir the pot, you see.” He stood up with a grin and spun in a little circle with his arms outstretched. “I am mischief made flesh… or made thought anyway. That’s how the humans summoned and molded me, with their prayers and their belief. Thousands of them over hundreds of years, they brought me forth from the void. I’ve changed a little over the intervening millennia, and there’s still a core that is me as I was before, like there is still a core to you, but in this plane, I cannot exist as other than what I am.”
Bryn jolted and stared at it. “So you are Spawn? You came from the void, the between?”
“Like you, but not,” it agreed. “I was summoned. I was called forth by the creatures that belong to this world. You tripped and fell through the tear, as it were. Whole different bargain. In some ways, you have more freedom than I. But you don’t truly belong here. You are tethered, for now, but when that tether breaks….”
If Bryn could feel fear, that’s what he would call the odd sensation that moved through his chest. But he didn’t have emotions like that. He was above such things.
“Explain,” Bryn demanded, but the other grinned and shook its head, making its floppy brown curls bounce.
“I told you. I can’t make it that easy.”
“You’re lying,” Bryn countered. “You helped the warrior and his Seer. The one they call Mistress Sabin spoke of what you did for them on their journey, how you helped. I saw it myself. You stayed with those two, tagging along like a puppy, doing their bidding, letting them ride you, yet you won’t help me now?” Bryn let his lip curl, showing his disgust, but the other only laughed.
“More like a herd dog than a puppy. Although I may have overdone it here and there. I’d forgotten how fragile humans are. I nearly broke the Seer when I first came upon him by not shielding my power enough. Oops, my bad. Luckily, he was drugged at the time and I reacted quickly, so no real harm was done.”
It giggled, but Bryn continued to scowl.
“Obviously, I am not so particular as you,” it continued with an indulgent smile and a shrug. “I am worshipped, but not in the way others of my kind are. I am worshipped more in deed and consequence than thought, and so I grow fond of my most faithful acolytes. Wherever mischief goes, so does my heart, even if my devotees do not know whom they serve. Besides, all the portents said they must remain on the path or the worst will happen. Who cares if I had to help them along a little.”
It sounded a little defensive now, as if it were talking to someone else. Bryn sat
