I’ve freely witnessed so much of this world, both inside and outside of the void. Far more than any other brother would likely be capable of experiencing with their incredibly limited faculties. I swore that I’d come back to help them, but I’ve only uselessly failed at that endeavor. They don’t want my help. They don’t need my help. They’re not capable of receiving my help. Or I’m not capable of giving it. Why am I still here?

  Melancholy settling in, I watch my compatriots scattered about the hill. One, too far off to identify, is beating another’s head in with a large stone. Probably an argument over food or a prime relaxing spot. Closer by is Hurm. He’s almost always sitting alone, slumped down in a crossed legged sitting position staring at his feet. That is, unless there’s a spar. He’ll eagerly stand at the edge of the circle for that brief moment of excitement and distraction. Usually it’s done in seconds, and then he goes right back to sitting there alone. Nearly lifeless aside from the occasional, shallow breath revealing that he does in fact still live.

  Aieek as well. That squinty eyed weirdo. More often than not, he can be found creeping up to the very edge of the mound and staring with one eye into the void. He always leaves the other eye closed, as if protecting it against something. His strange fascination with the emptiness often leaves him distracted and exposed. Easy prey for bored goblins, who gleefully knock him over and into his obsession for their amusement. Maybe something happened out there that’s made him wary of using both eyes at the same time? Not that he’ll ever be capable of adequately explaining it to me.

  I’ve learned a lot about these brothers after living with them for so long. However, that’s mostly because there simply isn’t much to learn. They’re all stuck here. Bound. Unless the whispers whisk them away elsewhere, and even then, they’re only tightly bound to specific tasks handed to them by someone else. They’re not actually free to do as they please. They’re not even free to die.

  Shaking my head, I look down at my tiny, ineffectual hands. I’m not free to die either. However, not because those abominations damned me to some bored and lonely immortality. It’s because I’ve chosen to live. To live once, the first time. That one time has immense value, and all the others do not. At this point, to lose my first mud really is true death. Everything else beyond that is only additional, uninteresting details. I must protect it.

  With both the power and ability to meaningfully leave here, I am called to act. To explore. Clearly I’ve gone unpunished during all my absent wandering. Therefore, I’m special. Exactly as they’ve all said. Ha’koff is special too, if only because I say so. Even if he doesn’t want to be. Clearly there’s been no punishment for dragging him around with me either. However, the others? If they try to wander from their prison, then I’m sure that the whispers would quickly correct them. If they really screw up and defy the Will, then those monsters might suddenly appear again and snuff them out, as they almost did to me.

  I really am special. Unique. At least, I’m unique with respect to the brothers. The others. The goblins. Because of all this.

  I’ve made so much progress, but still the size of my active plate stays roughly the same. Some songs have languished, while others have vibrantly charged ahead. Why am I bothering to learn all this anymore if not to share it with the others? Not even Ha’koff, from the looks of it. It’s now for power, pure and simple. The power to exist. The power to defy their insistence that I be anything other than what I find myself to be.

  Shrugging off the oppressive frustration, I bring up my personal status to complete my inspection.

  What? Three whole years? I’ve never thought to use this as a calendar before. Not that marking the passage of years is particularly useful in my day to day. However, at this moment, it delivers a heavy punch. It wasn’t even a full year on Kyklos and it felt like an eternity, yet more than two in the void feels like an instant. What does that mean?

  Enough. It’s clear that I’ve decided not to stay put. Maybe I can’t teach the others, but perhaps I can help break their chains? It’s terrifying to imagine myself slinking around out here outside the goblins’ natural domain. However, what’s the other option? Leave them to this eternity of boredom and suffering? No, no, that’s too heartless. Even if I’m different. Even if I’m better. More. They deserve to be free too!

  What do I need for this endeavor? Mud. Lots of mud. In case we’re injured, we must have it easily on hand somehow. Especially if we can’t get back to the pit right away. Maybe if we smuggle it outside the void during the hunts, then I can store a large quantity in my pockets. For the long term, that will suffice. Especially if we end up outside the void more frequently, freeing up my spacial abilities. Aside from that, we’ll simply keep some spare mud handy in the pouches as a precaution. Easy.

  Aside from that, we’ll only need to wait for an opportunity and a destination. No! We’ll create one ourselves.