The neverending hinterlands which unfold from the Great Wish River of Serpent’s Ramble predispose its people to the belief that no nation will ever invade them—for there is always more land to claim. While the reality that powerful civilizations such as Lusoyang’s Dominion, Elba, and The Splintered City of Yulhao not seeking land is true, these very nations had already been conquered by one person who really couldn’t care less about land at all: The Woman Painted White, Yurreth.

  The Inundation was not quite sure what to do with her yet. Yurreth was much more powerful than Hazahnahkah, and yet the song to end all songs didn’t sing of her. The dreams that had awoken the Inundation from its deep slumber also confirmed this, for while Yurreth was in these dreams—she played little more than the role of a messenger. But she also sought to use these dreams, and others who had them, to her vantage. The Inundation did not like the possibility it could be controlled, used, or wielded. To this end, it ravaged her burghs, countrysides, and secret settlements with fire, wind, and rain. Miles of orchards uprooted, and uncountable structures disintegrated in mere seconds. Its waves climbed inland like living walls, stripping forests to their bones. Its winds drove stone dust into the air until noon became a bruise-dark twilight. The Inundation sought nothing so simple as her death, for it knew that battle’s outcome would not be certain. It sought to erase her agency—and it did this with great success, all the way until it reached a realm Yurreth’s grimy nails had yet to reach.

  The Fawn Cities.

  It was one of those few isolated realms that were difficult to reach. While Serpent’s Ramble is interconnected by The Great River which had fostered its namesake, it is actually a splintered supercontinent that had barely managed to hold itself together through the sinew of rambletide leylines, gravitational coupling, and tidally locked landmasses. The Inundation could not listen nor understand the song which explained the geophysics of this great splintering, nor did it need to. Whatever songs ended after Hazahnahkah died would awaken whatever force had reshaped the very rules and realities of Serpent’s Ramble itself. Curiosity of whatever this could be was what drove the Inundation after the Creator Blade and where its old wielder once was.

  But it wasn’t quite clear where exactly Ysan was, or what she was up to. Her connections to the Elkoalkim Council and The Patriarch had landed her and her wealth as a relationship developer between cities. This meant she traveled back and forth often, between heavily populated areas at that. Areas filled with intelligent electromagnetic activity. The farther Inundation withdrew from its whirlpool home, the more difficult reality was to perceive. The duress of the journey also took its toll on Yiliandel, who had not fully adapted to Inundation’s abilities. She could not hear that The Fawn Cities were currently under attack, not from Yurreth, but from its many selves.

  The changes that Vikushak and his Rapscallion brother had brought rearranged any sense of structure that was left in the smaller less known settlements by The River, and this had rippled out towards those larger kingdoms that the Patriarch once reigned. Food shortages, healthcare stress, and education bottlenecks had torn apart Solipsay and Zabubin, who were now, in essence, slave states to the City of Remedy. Technology had also decentralized outdated inventions The Suzerainty of Solipsay once used to administrate the affairs of its Patriarch to his people, and many unknown or unnamed hamlets had amalgamated by The River and under the banner known as Ferrytown. Ferrytown set Xinya’s scarlet gates on fire the night after the flamethrower was invented, and a full scale civil war erupted.

  But Vikushak’s technology was not what caused Solipsay to call off its warriors stations in Xinya. Rumors of imperialist kingdoms, powerful wild beasts, and infamous criminal groups had reached the ears of those with influence in The Fawn Cities, their Patriarch most of all. The streets said that several groups were already forming to venture away from The River to see what they were up against, find out what they could do about it, and what their greed could stand to gain. Strange individuals called Swordpriests began to pop up from Serpent’s Tail, and far upstream, The River ran red with Yurreth’s conquests. While children collected remnants of weapons, cities, and people from torrential runoff, elders grew fearful of the sky. Little silver spheres and discs flickered constantly above, and people were scared they were Yurreth’s blimps of war. When it was discovered that Swordpriests could control these with their mind, the fear deepened, for even the best Swordpriests could not destroy them. Some even said that the anomalies were the reason Swordpriests had powers at all. The claim of a Swordpriest became a claim to Yurreth, and as Yurreth drew closer, a claim to Yurreth was a claim to the throne. With a weakening grip on the machinations of the nobility and elite, Patriarch Zalaster Azayume led a brave expedition into Serpent’s Tail to gain his Swordpriest powers, and never again did he return from it.

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  The Elkoalkim Council and its Swordpriests fled after him, even if they didn’t know where he went. Others went for loyalty, some went to kill him, and a pathetic few merely craved the reward for bringing the young Patriarch back. Though the Swordfish was far more interested in the Swordpriests than Zalaster Azayume, for the Swordpriests were of its cohort: those who could hear a vibration, and wield it for themselves. The Inundation knew it required a human capable of holding Hazahnahkah, not just pursuing him. It needed to train Yiliandel’s ears before it found fitting hands for this mission.

  The most powerful among the Swordpriests was a conspiracy theorist by the name of Galfarys, who had quickly been exiled for spouting blasphemy about higher dimensional beings that watched Serpent’s Ramble at all times. While the Inundation found him rather likeable, he was mentally unfit to train Yiliandel.

  Vikushak himself had also practiced in the Swordpriest way, but was far too deep in the political schemes and viper’s nests that came with the power vacuum Patriarch Zalaster had left. Ysan was a much more practical choice. She was ensnared by responsibilities of her powerful position, but her loyalty to The Patriarch made her predictable. Eventually she’d return to The River hoping to find Hazahnahkah again—hoping to gain power to protect The Fawn City king. Catching this moment was exactly what Yiliandel was for. She could navigate through cities without ruining them.

  As the Swordfish brought Yiliandel around the chain of island landmasses surrounding The Fawn Cities, avoiding The Fawn Cities themselves, it came across a particular woman celebrated as the “best” Swordpriest. This was most peculiar, because Inundation had been unable to tell that the woman was a Swordpriest at all. This meant she was most skilled. Not only could she hide her vibrations, but she could tell the Inundation’s. She looked at Yiliandel with pure horror.

  “A leviathan outside of its sky,” the woman whispered. “What is your name?”

  “Yiliandel,” the farmer said.

  “I meant the swordfish.”

  The Swordfish thought it had camouflaged with the environment. It revealed itself, shimmering out of Yiliandel’s hand and contorting upon itself until it was a man with no face and low stature. It spoke without its mouth.

  “You can call me Inundation,” it said. “I would like you to train Yiliandel.”

  “I don’t get involved with Rapscallions.”

  “I am not a Rapscallion.”

  “Most don’t know what they are.”

  “You’re not really in a position to disagree here. I may not know your name, but I hear who you speak to. I know your son, Tenefer, your daughter Brilda, your sister who isn’t your sister, Penelope. I know when you wake, when you eat, when you bathe, when you shit, and when you close your eyes for the next eight hours to start it all again. I have been listening to the tunes of this region for a very long time, Sypyrian. That is what they call you, isn’t it? Huh, I guess I do know your name. I rather like it. Pretty. Like a helpless fledgling.”

  Sypyrian measured Inundation up and down. She wasn’t shaking, but her heartbeat was painfully loud. “And if I can kill you?”

  Inundation eyed the white curtain over her arm. It was rather dirty compared to the clean look the rest of the woman had. “I know you haven’t eaten any Yurrethflesh. Only The Woman Painted White and The Serpent Itself could kill me. Arrogance doesn’t look good on a Swordcoat. Red is hard to wash out.”

  “Nothing looks good on a Swordcoat, Swordcoats are facades for the Swordpriest.” Sypyrian frowned. “You understand nothing about anything, do you?”

  “I know everything.”

  “I said understand.”

  Inundation puckered its lips, it tried to raise its brows, but could not manipulate the physical human organism it had transformed into with much accuracy. “Perhaps I have come all this way to learn.”

  “I am not helping you kill Hazahnahkah.”

  “You can sense my intent so deeply?”

  “I can sense your intent a million miles away. It smells of drowned bodies and charred countryside. While I am glad we share a mutual hatred for Yurreth, I cannot say I agree with your method of wanton annihilation of her territories where those forced under her Voluntary Collectivization reside.”

  Yiliandel shuffled uncomfortably. The Inundation felt her eyes upon it, and knew that its host disagreed as well. For a partnership that was meant to last, this simply would not do. Maybe the Swordfish had greater problems than just teaching Yiliandel the ways of the world. The farmer was still only subservient because the Inundation had taken her husband hostage. The Swordfish was unsure how Hazahnahkah did it. How did he travel between humans so fast? How did he influence the dreams of the people of Serpent’s Ramble so intimately? Even now, Inundation could sense it. Many more powerful beings were giving chase to Hazahnahkah.

  “How about we make a deal,” Inundation said. “You train anyone I take to you, and for as long as I live I will never kill an innocent again—”

  Before the sentence could even be finished, Sypyrian had held out her hand. “Then I hope you find many more lives to take.”