"I should begin by saying that I am not convinced of your honesty in being willing to change your mind on the necessity of ending the Splinters," Karti said slowly. "Sense Motive may not find you dishonest, but I can detect a stubbornness about you. But even if the chance is one in infinity, I suppose I must try. As you say, eliminating you as a threat without any other innocents suffering… Lord, I cannot tell you what a relief that would be."

"I'm sure," Ana said drily. "Go on."

"I know that you are not from this world. You have been here less than ninety days, yes? Just under twelve weeks, I should think. So I am sure that there are many things you have not yet learned, and which you would need to know to understand fully. I will do what I can to bridge these gaps in your knowledge"

"Appreciate it," Ana said, wondering idly what she'd gotten herself into. She'd been expecting a sermon; this was shaping up more like a college lecture. Not that she'd ever attended one, but she'd seen them on Netflix, and they seemed terribly boring. On the bright side she could just walk away or, if the material was particularly offensive, she could just kick Karti in the face.

"To begin, each world rests in the Firmament. It is said that there are as many worlds as there are stars in the night sky, though there is some debate whether each star we actually see is a world. The sky being different in each Splinter has certainly not helped, with some arguing that it is due to each Splinter being a star and thus having its own perspective, while others claim that the stars are different because each Splinter sees its own stars. But I digress. Each world rests in the Firmament, the Firmament being the plane of material being. But each world also exists simultaneously in the Aether, from whence all mana springs, and in the Empyrean, the origin of souls. All three are necessary for mortal life. Remove the soul, and the body ceases to live; remove the mana, and the soul burns itself to nothing in maintaining its connection to the body. Without the flesh, there is nothing to join mana and soul, and the soul forgets itself. You see?"

"Sure," Ana said. "I've heard something about stripping all the mana from someone killing them. Doesn't seem to gel with your changeling zombies, though; they don't have any mana, do they? The crystals take it all."

"The crystals keep the soul in the body, like a nail holding cloth to wood; that's besides the point. You understand about the planes?"

Is he telling it right? Ana asked the goddess in her head.

The Wayfarer sent the mental equivalent of a shrug, along with something non-verbal that felt like, Pretty much.

"Sure, with you so far," Ana confirmed.

"Then, from what I've told you, does it seem reasonable that the planes need to be in balance? That if every point in the Firmament connects to a corresponding point in the Aether and one in the Empyrean, then they must all be in harmony?"

"Sounds reasonable, yeah."

"The Splinters destroy that harmony. With the creation of each Splinter, the Firmament expands unnaturally, which forces the Aether and the Empyrean to… stretch, would be the simplest explanation. And nothing can stretch forever."

That's not how it works! The goddess' tone in Ana's head was both incredulous and indignant, as though the elf had tried to explain that the leaves change color in autumn because pixies paint them at night. How can he possibly believe that I would be so sloppy?!

Want me to slap him for you? Ana thought sardonically.

Yes.

You think I will? Slap someone for being wrong about something?

No, the goddess said. Her tone was petulant enough to make Ana pull a small smile despite herself. But in lieu of that, let's set him straight.

"May I ask what is so amusing?" Karti said.

"The Wayfarer's offended by how wrong you are," Ana said, letting her amusement show. It was good to let herself feel it; it diluted the anger and frustration that had dominated up to that point.

"She speaks to you?" For the briefest moment Karti came fully alive, and there was hunger and envy in his voice. Then it faded, and his tired, beaten mien returned. "I suppose I should not be surprised. You are her Chosen, after all. And I am a failure."

"A failure who's wrong about how the creation of a Splinter works, apparently," Ana said. "The Wayfarer would like you to know that…" She waited for the goddess to dictate, then repeated her words to Karti. "'That windbag knows damn well that Splinters are made from coalescing leftovers of Creation. They fill in the damn spaces and don't stretch anything at all.'" Ana paused to laugh, once and sharply. "I cleaned it up a bit. She's really damn upset about her work being misunderstood. Or willfully misrepresented, I suppose. She'd also like me to tell you that the Lord of Order barely understands why the sun rises in the morning, and doesn't give a damn to learn as long as it does. You may as well ask a fish about how the tides work as ask him about planar ontology. Again, those are mostly her words."

Karti, to Ana's surprise, didn't give off any sign of being indignant or offended in any way. He just shook his head ruefully. "That is no surprise from the Lady of Pride, the Lone Wanderer. Self-confidence and arrogance are two of her defining traits. Of course she would never accept her creation being criticized."

Slap him, Chosen! the goddess demanded. I hate those appellations.

You're making a strong case for Lady of Pride, Ana shot back. To Karti she said, "Back where I'm from we call that an ad hominem-argument, which is just a fancy way of saying that if you can't attack the argument, you attack the person. It doesn't matter if she's too proud to admit when she's wrong if you can't show that she is. Do you have anything better than, 'She would say that'?"

Karti sighed and shook his head. "I have no first hand knowledge, nor am I a metaphysicist. All I can tell you is that I have this from one of my Lord's Ascenders, who had it from him directly. And the Lord of Order, by his very nature, does not lie."

"But could your god be wrong?"

"He would not sacrifice the innocent unless he knew that it was necessary," Karti said with absolute certainty. His defeat and his time as a prisoner clearly hadn't blunted his faith.

"But could he be wrong?" Ana repeated.

"I don't—" Karti started, but Ana pressed on, softening her tone. Karti had sounded less certain. It was easy to believe that someone called the Lord of Order would not lie; Ana might be able to accept the claim herself. But with how conflicted Karti was over his own actions, she was sure that he didn't want the god he worshipped, the one he believed in so wholeheartedly that he'd do anything in his service, to be malevolent. She was very deliberately trying to give him an out.

"Could he have been deceived?" she asked, keeping her tone gentle and sympathetic. "Captain Pirta certainly seems to think so. Could some other god, or even some mortal, have fed him misinformation enough to convince him? Could he be commanding you and his other faithful to do these horrible things because he's been misled?"

She didn't say, "Could he be as wracked with guilt as you?" but by the faint hope that kindled in Karti's eyes, the implied question came across loud and clear.

"I… perhaps. I cannot say for certain," Karti finally said, and Ana smiled.

There wasn't much conversation after that. There was no point. Karti didn't have anything left to give that Ana was interested in; she'd gone to speak to the man with only the nebulous need to know what motivated him. She'd gotten what she wanted — though it did little to satisfy her — and more.

Karti had hated what he did, but he'd believed fully in the cause. He was racked with guilt over the methods he'd used, but he would have done it again if given the chance. His faith, his willingness to sacrifice his own soul for the sake of the world, had been rock solid.

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Now there was a hairline fracture in that rock. One that time and effort might widen until the whole thing fell apart, if someone was so inclined. But it wouldn't be Ana. She'd applied the initial shock, and seeing that fracture appear had been satisfying, but she didn't care about the final result.

No matter how good it felt, putting a crack in Karti's belief in his god's infallibility wasn't the point. Hell, Ana didn't truly care if the Wayfarer or the Sentinel was right, or both, or neither; she'd adapt if she had to. She'd rather not see the Splinters destroyed; she liked the idea of an infinite world, where there was always somewhere to move on to if needed, but demonstrating some sort of loyalty to the Wayfarer wasn't the point either. The point was, if it was at all possible, to ever so subtly shift the Sentinel's balance.

Ana didn't know much about gods; she'd only learned that they were real less than three months earlier. But she did know that they could pay attention to a whole lot of things at once, that they could see and hear anything that happened around their faithful, and that the Sentinel had a special interest in herself. There was a good chance that the god himself was listening; it was him she wanted to convince. She doubted it would be that easy, but perhaps, if she was lucky, her words, and Karti's uncertainty, might sow some doubt in the Sentinel's conviction. And if that could make the god ever so slightly less decisive, if it could give him the slightest pause before taking action, that was an edge that the Wayfarer, and by extension Ana, might be able to use.

It had been a profitable meeting Skills-wise, too, as her notifications told her.

Congratulations! Your Skill Sense Motive has improved to Level 9! You have been awarded: Growth Crystal (Medium).

Congratulations! Your Skill Negotiation has improved to Level 7! You have been awarded: Growth Crystal (Medium).

They were the first Skill increases she'd received in almost two weeks, and she felt a little thrill go through her at Sense Motive being so close to Level 10 and another Perk. She'd come to rely heavily on Kinesics — many people didn't even think to try to lie through their body language — and she wondered what the next Perk would do for her.

The Level in Negotiation mystified her a bit. If anything, she would have expected Charm. But the System worked in mysterious ways, and if it decided that they'd been negotiating, with Ana gaining information in exchange for Karti getting a chance to convince her, there was nothing she could do about it.

There was one thing of interest that Karti had wanted to say before Ana left. She'd let him speak, not expecting to ever see him again, and what he said had her thinking as she left the stockade.

"No matter the cause," the elf had said, "the fabric of reality is tearing. Soul-stuff is escaping the Empyrean faster than new life can be created. With no hosts to receive it, it's forming into spirits of hunger and envy, demons that are slipping into the Fundament and possessing the living and the dead alike at a rate never seen before. Mana is leaking from the Aether, causing Delves to grow larger and more numerous across the Splinters, and feeding the demons that have taken root there until they are powerful enough to invade the Primes. A calamity is near, Chosen; one day soon, the Empyrean and the Aether both will rip asunder entirely. And when that happens, not even the gods will be able to help us."

No wonder, Ana thought, that what might once have been a good man was so willing to drown himself in innocent blood.

In the twelve days since the attack on Messy, and Ana's panicked return to the outpost, neither of them had said a word about Messy dismissing Ana as her protector. It had seemed too risky. Removing the protections Messy enjoyed as Ana's Object of Devotion so soon after an attempt on her life, even if they were rarely separated, hadn't seemed worth possibly ending whatever effect Ana's Devotion Ability had on Ana's mind.

Ana also suspected that Kaira, Tor, and Omda effectively kicking her out of the Party had something to do with it. Messy hadn't said as much, but Ana couldn't see her wanting to chase one rejection with another.

"But it's been twelve days now," Messy said gently, as though she was trying to coax a child or a skittish animal. "And no one's tried anything. And you're always with me."

"I know," Ana said. The words were coarse and bitter in her mouth. Her throat felt dry and tight, and it was hard to speak at all. She pressed her back more firmly into Messy, desperate for her warmth and softness to take the dread away. But for once it didn't help.

"I need to know," Messy whispered apologetically. They were in bed, the candle already snuffed. Messy had both arms around Ana, the way they often slept; one arm circled Ana's waist from behind, while the other slowly stroked Ana's arm. "I'm so sorry, Angel, but I need to know. And you promised."

"I know," Ana repeated mechanically. She was furious with herself. What was she so damn scared of? Nothing would happen. Neither of them was going anywhere. Messy might be marginally less safe with Ana unable to take a hit for her, but that was true when Ana was more than eighteen feet away, which happened daily; Ana stayed nearby, but they weren't literally joined at the hip. And Ana would still be right there, no further away than she had been these twelve days.

There was nothing to worry about. All she was doing was to make Messy feel guilty. So why did it feel like the world was ending?

"You need to do it," Ana croaked, fighting herself with every word. She felt close to tears. "You need to just do it. Don't wait for me to tell you that it's alright. I don't know if I can. Just do it."

"Angel," Messy said, sounding truly worried. "If it's that hard on you—"

"Do it!" Ana snapped, burrowing in as close as she possibly could. "Please, just do it! Don't drag it out!"

"Okay," Messy whispered, her voice quavering. "Okay. But I'll still be right here. I'm not going anywhere. Tomorrow will be a day like any other. We'll have breakfast, and then you'll hold your class, and then we'll go to work. And in the evening we'll have dinner, and go to the baths, and then we'll come home. A completely ordinary day. I promise. Okay?"

"Okay," Ana sniffled, hating that she couldn't stop the tears. Goddess, she thought, if this is what attachment does to people, I'm glad to have missed it for so long. She couldn't remember being so miserable since…

Since a teacher had caught her and Vanessa kissing, and her preacher foster-father came to take her from the principal's office and made it very clear that she would never see "that Jezebel" again.

"Okay," Messy said. "Ana, my sweet, avenging angel, I release you from your bond. I dismiss you as my guardian. But neither of us is going anywhere. I promise."

Then the notification came:

Mestendi has dismissed your devotion. But even a broken bond may be mended.

Mestendi, Jeweler (15), has left your Party.

And there, with Messy's arms wrapped tight around her, with Messy's body pressed close to her back, and with Messy's soothing voice whispering how much she loved her, how much she appreciated this and how strong Ana was for going along with it, Ana curled in on herself and bawled like a child until sleep took her.

It was incredible what a good cry and a full night's sleep — roughly five hours, twice as much as Ana actually needed — could do.

It wasn't like everything was fine, back to how it had been before Ana offered to devote herself. It wasn't. Ana felt a deep ache inside herself, in the place where Messy had been the past two months, like a piece of her was missing. Besides that it was disorienting to only know that Messy was right there behind her because she could feel the warmth and pressure of her body, and not because her direction was as clear as the position of one of Ana's own limbs. And it was scary to know that Messy was perfectly fine, only because Ana could feel how relaxed her girlfriend was against her, her breathing calm and even, and not because her innate sense of Messy's general condition told her that she was calm, healthy, and unharmed.

No, it wasn't like everything was fine. Ana wished that the bond hadn't been broken. But the deep, despairing heartache of the previous night had passed, and as far as she could tell she didn't feel any differently about Messy than she had the night before. Maybe that would change with time, but for the moment she still took comfort from Messy's presence in a way that she never had with anyone else.

As she so often did, Ana just lay there, soaking in the warmth of Messy's body and dozing in and out of sleep until she felt Messy shift subtly, her embrace growing tighter as her breathing changed and she finally whispered, "See? I'm still here. How are you holding up, Angel?"

"It hurts," Ana replied, "but less than last night. You're gone, even though you're right here."

Messy's arms tightened around her again, pulling her closer. "I'm so sorry for putting you through this, love. I wish I wasn't so weak and insecure. But you're strong. You'll be okay. A week, alright? We'll give it a week and then, if…" Messy swallowed thickly. "Then we can go back to how it was."

"I'm scared," Ana confessed. She felt raw and vulnerable in a way that made her want to clam up and hide, but she'd promised Messy to be honest. Hiding this felt as bad as lying. "What if it was all the Ability, ever since we entered that Delve? What if you become less important to me without it? I don't— I can't stand the idea of that."

"If that happens…" Messy said, her voice shuddering so badly that she had to stop every few words to collect herself, "if things change so much that you don't want to— to continue this… then I will still be here. I'll be as much or— or as little to you as you want me to be. A lover. A friend. Someone you Delve with sometimes. Or—"

Messy's voice broke into a sob so guttural and heartwrenching that Ana reacted almost on reflex, wordlessly twisting around in her arms to return the embrace.

"Or just someone you knew once, who still loves you so damn much," Messy finished in a torrent of words before the tears took her voice completely.

"Never," Ana sniffled, pulling Messy so close that the elfin woman let out a startled breath. A small lump of shame accompanied the relief she felt at how much Messy's pain hurt her. "Never that. Never just that."

It was a full hour until sunrise. They could have risen, or they could have slept. They did neither. They just stayed like that, comforting each other and making promises that they didn't know if they could keep, until the cock crowed.

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