Fyre Fly: Chapter 42 - Theories

“Lisari,” I greet with a flat tone. “I’m surprised you wanted to chat.”

“You are?” she asks, feigning surprise. The god leans back toward the balcony until she’s hanging from it upside down. From this orientation, her grin looks like a grimace. “But I love a good information exchange. Whatever gave you that idea?”

I have to hold in an annoyed sigh. “All the skulking around you’ve been doing lately. I figured if you wanted to talk to me, by now you already would have.”

“Skulking!” Lisari pauses. “Oh, actually, I quite like that. Yes, I’ve been skulking! But I was waiting for you to come to me with any questions you might have.”

I raise a skeptical eyebrow. That easily, she’s offering to answer questions? I suspect I will only get half answers—or ones that come with strings attached. Despite Lisari acting far more open and friendly than Blair, I trust her far less.

Perhaps because Blair is blunt and direct—much like Mirzayael, in some ways.

“Alright,” I say. “Were you responsible for procuring us the Drifting Isles tracker?”

Lisari slips from her perch, but her hands catch her before her head can crunch into the ground. She turns the move into a handstand, and then cartwheel, rightening herself. “No… I wasn’t aware mortals had any way to track it. That’s interesting.”

Huh. So it really was luck, or some twist of fate. And even the gods seem unaware of it—or were, until I just told them.

Lisari hops back up on the balustrade, and despite the fact that she’s a god and certainly in no danger, the sight makes my stomach flutter anxiously. She strolls along the wall, swinging her feet out over the drop with each step.

“It’s more fun when there’s danger, don’t you think?” she says. “Consequences. I don’t think I remember what fear feels like. Not really. Surprise, though—your lot is stoking quite a bit of surprise in me again. It’s delightfully refreshing.”

I stare at her, not knowing how to respond to that.

So I don’t. “Blair didn’t know Fyreneth. But you acted like you recognized her when we first met.”

Lisari sticks her arms out to the side as if balancing. “Is that a question?”

I mentally sigh. “I just want to know what she was like. Why it all had to end the way it did.”

Lisari hums. “I’m still not detecting any questions.”

I shoot her an entirely pointless glare. “What can you tell me about Fyreneth and the fall of her city?”

“Aha!” She jumps back down to the balcony. “That’s one. And I would be happy to answer it.” She pauses.

“...For a price?” I guess.

She grins. “Well, if you’re offering.”

I’m regard her warily. “I don’t know if I have anything you couldn’t already obtain for yourself.”

She waves a dismissive hand at my words. “What nonsense! What I’m looking for is something so common that everyone has it---yet, it is the most rare thing of all, as no two are the same.”

I frown, puzzling through her words. After a moment, I take a stab at it. “Experience?”

She points at me. “Precisely. So, what do you say?”

“You want to exchange question for question?” I ask skeptically. I was expecting something more along the lines of a nebulous favor or an owed debt. “What sort of questions?”

“Well, you won’t know until I ask them, will you?” She grins. “What’s the harm in a few questions?”

I’m inclined to agree, but warry enough to wonder what sort of trick or catch might be involved. How could she twist a question in some way that might be to my detriment?

No way that I can obviously see. I’m not hiding anything that she doesn’t already know about. Yet it doesn’t hurt to be careful.

“Oh, come on,” she says while I’m hesitating. “Indulge my curiosity, won’t you?”

“So long as it’s merely curiosity,” I say.

“What else could it be?” she asks. She cocks an eyebrow. “You’re not hiding anything, are you?”

“No,” I say, belatedly realizing there is one thing I’ve been keeping from the gods, though she’s not specifically the one I’m worried about learning of it. Even so, my desire for answers gets the best of me. “Alright. I’ll play along.”

Her face lights up. “Wonderful! Then to answer your first question, I met Fyreneth once. She was bold. Ambitious. Perceptive. Quite a bit more like your arachnoid friend than yourself, actually. Her only softspot was for her people; she believed fiercely in her kingdom and its potential. She would stop at nothing to ensure their prosperity—ironically, the reason for her downfall. Had she paced herself and withheld the source of her power, she may not have drawn Lorata’s attention.”

“You’re talking about the Dungeon Core,” I surmise. “Why was it so important that thousands of innocent people needed to pay for it with their lives?”

Lisari waggles her finger at me. “Ah, ah. My turn now.”

I steel myself for whatever question she might have. Will she ask about the watchtowers and the spells we’re uncovering there?”

“Is it true your world only has humans?” she asks. “As the only dominant intelligent species?”

I blink. “Er, yes. That’s true.”

“Fascinating!” she exclaims. “Alright, next question.”

I stare at her. Really? That’s all she wanted to know? Was she really just curious after all, without any ulterior motive? Somehow, that idea is throwing me more than anything nefarious she could have done.

“Alright,” I say, thinking carefully about my wording. I don’t want to ask something that could be answered with a simple yes or no. “Why did Lorata want to destroy the Dungeon Core?”

“She didn’t,” Lisari says. “My turn!”

“Hey,” I object. “That’s barely an answer.”

She takes on a lopsided grin. “No more so than ‘That’s true.’ Come now, you can’t think you can get away with two word responses and expect a lecture in return from me.”

“Fair enough,” I admit. “Then what else about my world would you like to know?”

“Everything,” she admits, a hungry undertone to her words reminding me very much of the Dungeon Core. “But for now I think I will satisfy myself with this: What does your world know of souls and magic?”

I spend a moment to think about it. “That’s a complicated question. Our world had countless cultures with countless perspectives on both those subjects. I will say that neither were considered scientific bodies of knowledge; neither were observable. Many people theorized about souls and magic, but they were not a part of our technology or day-to-day life.”

Lisari doesn’t seem particularly surprised by any of this: I wonder if she already had been told as much, but was using this opportunity to confirm what she’d learned. Perhaps there is something to what I’ve learned about Shirasil’s disposition. Some sources describe him as the embodiment of chaos, but others describe him as an alchemist: a scientist. Curiosity incarnate. Is Lisari that side of him? A young scientist, eager to dig down to the truth of things?

It’s a nice thought, just one that feels strangely at odds with the persona I’ve previously been presented with. Is one or the other an act, perhaps?

“I didn’t think magic or souls were real until I came here,” I continue. “And even now I question the reality of souls, as I understand them. I thought I caught a glimpse, in that dark place between worlds…” I shake my head. “I don’t know what I saw.”

Lisari seems to listen more intently at this last part. “What place between worlds was this?”

So I do have information she doesn’t already know. Interesting. “My question first. Why was Fyreneth’s kingdom targeted by Lorata, and what did the Dungeon Core have to do with it?”

“That’s two questions,” she teases. “But I will allow it. You once again make an incorrect assumption. Fyreneth’s kingdom was not targeted: The Dungeon Core was. Your jewel is one of many such objects called a remnant.”

“Blair mentioned this,” I agree. “She said they are dangerous entities. Especially if they interact.”

“Right you are.” Lisari nods appreciatively. “Then it seems I have little to explain. Lorata deemed the Dungeon Core dangerous enough to apprehend. Fyreneth refused to give it up. Lorata’s champion fought Fyreneth, and both perished in the fight. With the city buried and her champion dead, Lorata deemed the Dungeon Core lost—which it did seem to be until you unearthed it.”

I frown. “Lorata didn’t want to secure the Dungeon Core herself?”

“Lorata prefers not to leave the heavens whenever possible, leaving her champions to act in the mortal realm on her behalf.” Lisari grins. “That’s two questions, so now I get two!”

She leans forward excitedly. “Tell me everything you can recall about how you arrived here.”

That isn’t technically a question, but I decide it best to play along. She is giving me answers, after all.

“I died,” I say, and I’m surprised to realize how much those words summon a swell of regret within me—but not as surprised as I am to see Lisari’s smile fade. She waits for me to continue, abruptly serious. The shift in her persona unsettles me.

“I died,” I repeat, turning my attention to my memories. “But though the world faded away, my mind didn’t. I found myself without form, in a place without light, or shape, or… I’m not sure. The space itself was difficult to conceptualize. But I soon realized I was not alone. There were many other presences. Souls, I now think, though I hadn’t understood it at the time.”

“Did you speak to any of them?” Lisari asks.

“I tried to,” I say, closing my eyes as I attempt to recall the nebulous experience. “I’m not sure if ‘speak’ is the right word. I could sense them. Feel their fear and confusion. There was one who was full of so much regret. Not for the life they’d lost, like many of us, but… I’m not sure. It was like they were apologizing to us. I tried to reach out and ask what was wrong, but they didn’t seem to hear.”

I pause in an attempt to recall what came next, but Lisari stops me.

“What else can you remember about this soul?” she asks. “Did you glean a name?”

I shake my head. “It was such a brief interaction. I think, perhaps, they said something like, ‘they didn’t mean for this to happen.’ But it was hard to hold onto with the malice all around us.”

Lisari tips her head, brows pinching in a faint frown. “Malice? In the Between? That shouldn’t be.”

All I can do is shrug helplessly. “I don’t know what should or shouldn’t have been—all I can tell you is what I experienced.”

Lisari nods, still frowning, and scratches at her chin as she paces across the balcony. She waves a hand in my direction. “Continue.”

Oh, well, so long as I have permission. “It’s hard to explain what happened next. There was some sort of struggle, I think. Like the malice itself was alive and fighting with something. Or someone. Then it was surprised—and most of the souls around me seemed to slip away. That made it angry. It seemed to clamp around me like teeth. The sensation was so corrosive. Like my very soul was being… digested…”

My chest tightens at the realization. It had all been so confusing in the moment, but now, with the benefit of hindsight, the experience is abruptly snapping into new clarity.

I turn to Lisari. “Was it the Dungeon Core?”

She shakes her head. “Not specifically. But I expect it was something very much like it.”

Not specifically? What does that mean? It should be a yes or no question, shouldn’t it? I’m about to ask for clarity, but Lisari continues musing, and as long as she’s volunteering information, I’m not about to interrupt her.

“This is more than anyone else has been able to recall. Why?” She turns back to me, frowning with unnerving intensity. “Perhaps your Core is relevant in some way. A magnetic draw, or…”

My mind races to put everything together she’s telling me. What was drawn to what? Me to the Dungeon Core? But why? Something to do with the entity of malice? Similar to the Dungeon Core. Something like…

A remnant. Blair said they were drawn toward each other. Was that what I was contending with in that place between worlds? Then it wasn’t entirely chance that I ended up emerging into this world near the Dungeon Core.

Which also explains why people like Sandro also encountered a remnant.

And if we all have had an increased likelihood of coming in contact with a dangerous remnant, it also explains why the gods are so interested in finding us.

“Oh!” I cry and Lisari jumps.

She actually jumps. “What?” she says, lifting her brows in expectant curiosity.

It occurs to me at this moment that we’ve stopped all pretext of the answer game. We’re conversing like any two people would—not like a god and a mortal. And the expression she’s given me feels so much like that of a student waiting for an answer—like she really is a young woman in her twenties.

And she’s acting so different from how she had before. There’s no laughter and jokes—this is an equal trade of information. A knowledge share. And she appears so interested and engaged. Is this the real Lisari? Has the person I’ve been talking to before now been some sort of mask and costume?

“I think I know how I manifested a body on this world,” I say. “Unless that’s something you already know and can inform me about.”

She gestures for me to explain. “I have theories but would be happy to hear yours.”

“The Dungeon Core has an incredible amount of mana it’s absorbed from our surroundings,” I explain. “It ate a large amount of mana ore, specifically.”

“That does sound like something it would do,” she says dryly. “But you think the Dungeon Core has something to do with your body’s formation? That seems unlikely.”

I shake my head. “Not the Dungeon Core specifically.” My mouth twitches at the world choice. “As you said—something very much like it. It was a remnant that caught us in between worlds, wasn’t it?”

“Very likely,” Lisari agrees. “In the Between, specifically. It’s a dimensional source of null mana.”

I light up. “Then that explains it! So if some other remnant had absorbed an incredible amount of mana, and, as I understand it, it takes a large pool of mana to give gestating souls form, then perhaps when our souls spilled out into this reality, we took some of that mana with us.”

Lisari is silent for a moment. Then, she howls with laughter, doubling over to brace her hands on her knees.

“You think you were birthed into this world?!” She cackles, clutching her stomach as she staggers back to lean against the rail.

So much for her acting serious and genuine.

“Well, not precisely,” I say, slightly flustered, heat rising in my cheeks. “But by a similar mechanism, if nothing else.”

Lisari continues to crack up, and I’m distinctly reminded of Mirzayael reacting similarly when I first asked about the formation of children in this world.

When it’s apparent Lisari is nowhere near finished, I raise my voice. “Unless you have a better idea?”

The woman wipes a finger at her eyes, grinning with mad delight. “Oh, no. I think it’s a delightfully accurate theory. I can’t wait to meet the parents!”

I sigh through my nose, casting my gaze to the heavens. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“Oh, indeed it is,” Lisari says, still tickled to death, but gaining a contemplative look once more. “The magic of Between would be more than enough to provide the energy required—and if a remnant was the one who donated it… Though it’s possible another could be involved.”

“What?” I ask, surprised. “Who?”

“I’m unsure myself,” Lisari admits. “I’ve yet to meet them, and have many questions to ask when I do. But that’s irrelevant.” She waves a dismissive hand. “I enjoy your theory. And your account of the Between and the remnant lurking there provides the last missing puzzle piece for many of the questions I’ve had. The bodies each of you assumed were likely influenced by environmental factors.”

“People’s remains,” I suggest. “Which is why I resemble Fyreneth.”

“Quite possibly so,” Lisari agrees. “That would fit with patterns that have emerged from other Travelers.”

As Lisari oscillates between humor and consideration, I fear I’m in danger of losing her to cryptic responses once more. But there’s so much I still have questions about. So much I need to learn. I quickly try to prioritize my concerns.

“How many of these other Travelers have you met?” I ask. “You previously mentioned there were one hundred and seventy-five of us. Have you met them all?”

“No, no, not nearly,” Lisari says, turning away to rest her elbows on the balcony’s rail in a bored posture. “Only a handful like you. A few dozen more in the heavens, though it is slightly more difficult to hold discrete conversations with those residing under Lorata’s watchful eyes.”

I pick my next words carefully. “Blair indicated some of them might be wrongly held.”

“All of them are being wrongly held,” Lisari spits. “What is there to be gained from captivity? What is to be learned from stagnation? This is an unprecedented opportunity for empirical research that she is choosing to squander out of short-sightedness!” She scratches her hand across the rail in agitation, and her nails carve grooves in the stone. It’s a jarring reminder of just who and what I’m speaking with.

Still, I need to know if this is something I can use. “It seems their freedom is something both of us would prefer.”

Lisari goes quiet and still. So still I’m not even sure if she’s breathing—as if she’s nothing more than a statue. Then, she chuckles, quiet and low. The sound sends goosebumps prickling over my skin.

“You are bold, Fyre,” she says. “I like that. But even if, hypothetically, the Travelers were to be broken out, there is nothing to stop them from being captured once more.”

“Not even other gods?” I ask.

“Not enough of us."

Then there’s more like Lisari and Blair who might want to help—or at the very least, not wish us ill—but not a majority. Still, those are names worth gathering.

“Hypothetically,” I venture, watching Lisari carefully, “there might be ways to protect Travelers that wouldn’t require assistance from the gods.”

Lisari’s mouth twitches in the hint of a smile. “Indeed. There have long been theories of spell networks that could rival the power of gods. However, it would require an exceptional well of magic.”

My pulse quickens as I realize exactly what it is she’s suggesting. “And if such protection were established…”

Lisari laughs, throwing her hands in the air. “Then, who knows? Perhaps a situation to access the imprisoned Travelers would arise.”

Vague. “You wouldn’t be able to—”

“I would never conspire against the heavens.” Lisari grins. “Even suggesting as much could be dangerous! Besides, you’re setting your cart before the horse. It is my understanding that such a protective spell network doesn’t yet exist.”

“No,” I agree. “Not yet.”

“Well,” she says, spinning around with a flourish. “I’d love to catch up when that changes.”

Even as she begins to walk away, Echo flickers to life in my mind.

[Permissions updated,] she reports.

I raise an eyebrow. “What—”

But when I look back up, Lisari is gone.