Anik looked down, confused.

 

In his hands was the stone knife, but there was no blood, nor was there a wound. Instead, a small sphere of crystalline energy had surrounded the blade, protecting the hapless little Ngak from any harm at all. Curious, Anik tried again, but as the barrier of energy struck his abdomen, it neatly bounced back from the flesh, obstructing any avenue of gore.

 

Anik looked up at his fellow villagers, an eyebrow raised.

 

“This knife does not work,” he said softly, “it is spoiled.”

 

Snooze squinted at the blade, and her eyes widened. It looked to be the same sort of spell that had enveloped her before she banished Perth. She turned to Riff who, though she had no mouth, was smirking anyway, her eyes sparkling with confident pride. Then she winked.

 

There was a clamor of discontent as the Dela people tried to discern the nature of this trickery. Jors and Deki were also perplexed, both sharing the same consternation of countenance and knitted brows.

 

Anik’s eyes found Pili and rested on her for only a moment before looking at his village leader.

 

“Maybe harder?” Anik said, lifting the blade up to prepare another stab.

 

“No,” Mayor Jors stated, holding his hand out, “I saw. The traveler from Spesi did this.”

 

There was a shocked gasp from the crowd, though Jors did not silence them this time. Instead, he fixed Riff with his signature steely gaze, his calculating, yellow eyes reminding Snooze of a hawk, a memory from her old life.

 

Then, he turned his uncomfortably perceptive orbs to Snooze, looking her up and down. Snooze had no doubt that he was making some sort of assessment of their character. Wanting to disintegrate the tension, she gave a small wave and her brightest smile.

 

After quite a prolonged staring contest, wherein he was eyeing both gods up and down, Jors finally cleared his throat and nodded.

 

“You say you are travelers.” he said, but it was clear by his tone that it was not a question.

 

“Yes,” Snooze said, glancing at Riff. The other god seemed amused by this interaction, as if she were playing a game with kittens. Snooze was locked into a social contract because, despite the fact that she had created these funny little Stonies, she was obligated--as far as she knew-- to not reveal what she was. She also apparently needed her lovely Stonies to revive her Archangel, so her hands were a bit tied.

 

“Strange,” Jors said, clasping his hands behind his back and pacing in the sand.

 

“Well, you seem weird to us!” Snooze said, “we are on a far flung journey of friendship, self discovery, and deadly pirate battles at the cusp of a volcano. We’ve traveled a long way to get here, and now we need your help reviving our fallen comrade. We’d heard great things about the Dela people, the village, and of the mighty Jors of the Ten Waves. We only ask for your aid, and we shall leave you be.”

 

Jors seemed unmoved by what Snooze would have considered a fair bit of tall tale tellin.’ He just kept pacing, hardly looking up from the sand he trailed through. He let Snooze run out of air before speaking.

 

“One of you travelers used Arts. One of you knows a name that was not said in her presence.” Jors said, then he stopped in his tracks, and lifted his gaze to Riff and Snooze, his face completely rigid and emotionless.

 

“I think that travelers… you are not.”

 

Snooze was starting to get anxious. Here they were, on the edge of a razor-thin, time-sensitive scenario, and Mayor Jors wanted to play detective. It was a little frustrating. On the one hand, she wanted to save Meat and keep her cool. But on the other hand… they had no clue what she’d done for them over the many countless years…

 

Then she had an idea.

 

It is important to note, that while Snooze believed this was a fantastic plan, she’d only thought of it because it had recently been used on her, in a roundabout way. It was times like these, however, that really showed Snooze what she, herself, was capable of.

 

“You’re right,” Snooze said, winking at Riff.

 

Jors seemed to almost relax, his suspicions warranted, but then he tensed again as Snooze continued.

 

“We are more than travelers… we are Blessed.” Snooze made sure the emphasis of her translation in perukgni was stressed on the second syllable, like she’d heard Anik use.

 

She waited, eyes closed, expecting a much more dramatic response than the hard silence she received. After a full moment without any sound, she popped her lids open to sneak a peek.

 

All of the villagers, Jors included, were staring at her with the most lofty level of bewilderment imaginable. Not one person looked as impressed as Snooze knew they should be.

 

“What is… Blessed?” Deki asked finally.

 

Snooze felt the most eloquent wave of foolishness wash over her. She’d remembered the term, but not the source. It had come from Anik and Pili, but Perth had been pretending to be them. That was why she had never heard the term before-- the Archangel had made it up! It also brought questions as to how Perth had been so realistically able to assume the identity of Snooze’s own creations without her knowing. Not to mention the simple act of speaking and maneuvering like them was impressive in its own right. Boy, our loveable heroine had really been hoodwinked! 

 

Snooze blushed. But then she dug her heels, both literally and figuratively, into the sand. What the hey, she thought, and went for it.

 

“You haven’t heard of the Blessed?” She asked, hoping she came off just as confused as they were.

 

“No,” Jors said simply. The rest of the village nodded in unison behind him.

 

“Ah, well,” she began, “the Blessed are those that can use the Arts, especially healing Arts. We are chosen by the gods to wield these powers, and we use them only for good. We defeat nasty foes, and drive out evil wherever it may be. We travel the many lands to rid them of the darkness. We also receive a hero’s welcome wherever we visit.”

 

Jors frowned even deeper.

 

“We have not heard of these Blessed,” he said, “you say you have the powers of the gods? Show us.”

 

Snooze bit her lip. She’d been completely drained of energy and god spells were absolutely off the menu. The only reason she’d been able to do anything at all was because of the boost from Riff’s Enhance spell.

 

“We have shown you with the knife,” she said, smiling. “Is that not enough?”

 

Suddenly, to Snooze’s surprise, the whole village cracked up with laughter.

 

“That is a simple Art,” said a tall Stonie with long hair tied back with a dandelion stem.

 

Rakfa the Gifted.

 

Snooze had forgotten about the man. He was an accomplished user of the Arts himself, and likely the best at them in the village.

 

“A newborn Ngak or the most feeble crone can use that level.” He finished, smirking arrogantly.

 

I’ll remember that the next time you fall in a Koga trap and are crying for help.

 

She waited for their laughter to die down, trying to think of something to dazzle them with. Perhaps she’d be able to look at some of her Abilities and figure out which ones…

 

She froze, and then smiled.

 

“Book,” she stated.

 

The Travel Edition of the Book of Leaf sprang to life suddenly, the display expanding in full view of the onlookers, who suddenly weren’t so keen on chuckles.

 

How did I create such bullies? Snooze thought to herself.

 

HELLO, SNOOZE.

 

The villagers eyed the newly perceived magic with caution, and several of the younger members of the tribe even hid behind their mothers.

 

“What is this?” Mayor Jors demanded, pointing at the summoned display before them all. Snooze’s smile got even wider.

 

“This is our connection to the gods,” Snooze said. Technically it was the truth, she just left a key detail out.

 

“You can ask it anything, and you will be rewarded with an answer.”

 

There was a stunned awe among her little Stonies. She knew them better than they knew themselves, so it didn’t matter whether the Book of Leaf coil provide the answer or not. She could. They wouldn’t be able to read it anyway. Even if they had formed a mode of writing and transcribing--spoilers: they hadn’t-- the Book responded in whatever language it was that Snooze originally spoke before being reincarnated. She wasn’t even sure herself, as it had been so long since she’d thought about her previous life.

 

“Anything can be asked of it?” Anik said, being the first brave enough to speak--or perhaps the greediest.

 

“Yes,” she said, confidently, waving an exaggerated hand in the Book’s direction.

 

SNOOZE, WHY DID YOU SUMMON ME? IS THIS MY SURPRISE PARTY? OH, SHOOT, WAS I NOT SUPPOSED TO KNOW ABOUT IT?

 

DO I NEED TO ACT SURPRISED?

 

OH! I CAN’T BELIEVE IT! YOU REMEMBERED! 

 

...AND YOU BROUGHT ALL MY FAVORITE PEOPLE. WELL… NOT ALL OF THEM, BUT… SOME OF THEM! YES, THERE’S LARRY, I SEE HIM RIGHT THE-- NO THAT’S NOT LARRY. I DON’T KNOW WHO THAT IS AT ALL. WOW, IN FACT, I DON’T RECOGNIZE ANYONE HERE. WHAT? DID YOU HIRE OUT SOME ACTORS TO PLAY MY FRIENDS?

 

IT’S LIKE YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW ME, SNOOZE. 

 

JUST KIDDING! THIS IS WONDERFUL!

 

“Hold on a second, Book,” Snooze said.

 

OH! DID THE PARTY NOT TECHNICALLY START YET? OKAY, WHEW, THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN A BAD FIRST IMPRESSION ON MY NEW FRIENDS! I’LL JUST PRETEND I WAS TALKING ABOUT A DIFFERENT LARRY. ANYWAYS, BUSINESS AS USUAL… 

 

BWAHAHAHA!

 

 I’LL JUST ACT AS THOUGH EVERYTHING IS NORMAL UNTIL THE TIME IS NIGH, AND THEN… 

 

SURPRISE TO ME! 

 

OH, THIS IS SO MUCH FUN!

 

Snooze rolled her eyes. For the second time since her journey began, she was reminded that this Book of Leaf was so much different than the one she was used to. Her stoic, humorless, constant source of irritation and entertainment.

 

“Ask, and you shall receive,” Snooze stated to Anik in her most genie-like manner.

 

He chewed on this for a moment, and then, casting a quick glance at Pili, he spoke.

 

“Who is my fated lifemate?”

 

It is important to note that Snooze had seen everything her people had ever been through. She knew all of their trials, and all of their successes and sorrows. She also knew who was, for lack of a better term, in love with whom. Though, at this stage of their development, the majority of Ngak had no concept of love. Their understanding was primitive, but, it seemed as though Anik had become a bit more emotionally mature--or rather, advanced than the others.

 

You hopeless romantic. Thought Snooze.

 

She also knew that Pili adored Anik, she’d even carved their shared likenesses into a tree deep in the forest.

 

Man, if she knew about initials, it would blow her mind.

 

She smiled, and spoke to the Book of Leaf in her usual language, so that the Dela people would not be able to understand.

 

“Book, how are they supposed to revive Meat? Anik was going to offer his own life, but there’s got to be a better way. Right?”

 

The Book erupted into its informational mode, though there was still a hint of the Travel Edition’s personal quirks thrown in.

 

MY GOODNESS! YES, THEY SURE SEEM TO BE DRAGGING THEIR FEET ON THE WHOLE SACRIFICIAL LAMB THING. BUT…

 

THIS IS AN UNUSUAL CIRCUMSTANCE, AND IS EDGING CLOSE TO UNCHARTED TERRITORY.

 

“Continue, please,” Snooze asked.

 

RIGHT. SO, IT SEEMS THAT ANIK’S FIRST INSTINCT WAS CORRECT. ESCHEWING HIS MORTAL COIL WOULD ABSOLUTELY ALLOW MEAT TO BE REVIVED, CONSIDERING THEY ALL HOUSE HIS SEED OF LIFE. HOWEVER…

 

BARRING THAT, IT MAY WORK IF THEY WERE ALL TO GIVE A LITTLE OF THEIR OWN LIFE FORCE.

 

“How would they go about doing that?” Snooze asked. Riff yawned, apparently bored by these events.

 

BY STRIKING THEIR FLESH WITH POINTY BITS AND SCATTERING THEIR LIFE BLOOD.

 

Snooze frowned.

 

“They’ll have to cut themselves open?”

 

INDUBITABLY.

 

“But that’s so barbaric…” Snooze said, looking into the shining faces of her lovely little Meatlings.

 

SNOOZE, HAVE YOU SEEN THIS PLACE? THESE PEOPLE KILL THEIR OWN ZUZUS TO ENSURE A HEALTHY FORAGING HARVEST. THEY FALL OFF CLIFFS FOR FUN. THEY WIPE WITH POISONOUS BRANCHES ON ACCIDENT. DEATH STALKS AROUND EVERY CORNER, HERE. IT’S THE DICTIONARY DEFINITION OF BARBARISM.

 

“That’s… a fair point.” Snooze said, “but how much blood needs to be let?”

 

OH, I’D SAY NOT MUCH AT ALL, IF THEY ARE SWOLLEN FULL OF TASTY, NUTRIENT-RICH LIFEBLOOD.

 

“Tasty…?”

 

I’M BACK ON MY ABSURD HUMOR KICK. IT WAS SO MUCH FUN BEFORE. 

 

I’D SAY PERHAPS IT WOULD BE ENOUGH IF THEY ALL CUT THEIR OWN HANDS. YEAH, THAT AUGHTA DO!

 

Snooze nodded. To her, this was a much more digestible option than goring themselves silly to bring her Archangel back to life.

 

She heard a throat clearing from Anik, and turned.

 

“Sorry,” she said in Pebbletongue, pointing to the magical display.

 

“Long winded.”

 

Anik nodded urgently. 

 

“So, Blessed,” he said, his eyes flicking back to Pili for a moment and then returning, “who is my fated lifemate?”

 

Snooze made a show of looking over the Book of Leaf’s responses again, before cracking an exaggerated grin and facing Anik.

 

“The gods say that you are fated to join with one called, ‘Pili.’”

 

There was a shocked gasp from the village, and a space cleared so that Anik had a direct line of sight to the woman Snooze claimed was his destiny partner. Both youths’ faces grew rosy with blush, and they shied away from one another. Snooze decided to add a bit more flair.

 

“It is said that your bond will be strong, and the two of you will treat one another with equal respect. You’ll also bear mighty members of the Village of Dela, who will also do great things. Yours will be the mating that all others aspire to.”

 

Anike was a deep shade of red now, and Pili wasn’t much better. The two kept glancing sheepishly at one another, and then looking away. It was, in Snooze’s godly opinion: super stinkin’ cute. She didn’t think it was wise to play god, but she figured, if it were to happen, who better suited to the job than their actual creator?

 

The villagers continued muttering in excited tones, until Jors raised his hand again, and they silenced.

 

“Easy to speak,” he said, “all of the village knows Anik and Pili are fools for one another. I wish for solid claim. Something that does not cast doubt.”

 

Snooze sighed.

 

Everyone’s a skeptic.

 

“Then ask,” she said simply.

 

Jors needed no further prompting.

 

“In my hut is a box. I crafted it from wood of the waves, and bound it with weed of the sea. Speak what is inside.”

 

Snooze grew sad. She remembered that day. The day Jors’ mother succumbed to her wounds. He’d crafted the box with specific intent, a purpose that Snooze knew was his most valuable drive and emotion for his mission. She’d seen it all, shared the sadness with him, and watched with melancholic pride as he pursued his oath-sworn duty, and achieved what he set out to do.

 

She turned to the Book.

 

“Just their hands, huh?”

 

The Book responded.

 

SHOULD DO THE TRICK.

 

Snooze nodded, then, had another idea.

 

“I need this to look really epic and magical, Book. Could you chirp really dramatically and then just put a bunch of impressive-looking nonsense?”

 

LIKE THIS?

 

Suddenly, a deafening squeal erupted from the Book, piercing and painful. The sound was like a high-pitched sonic boom. It blasted out, dying out immediately, but  was so loud that the entirety of the Village of Dela was forced to cover their ears as they cried out. Even Snooze winced. Then the Book filled his display.

 

私たちは私たちを傷つけたり刺したりする種類の本だけを読むべきだと思います。
私たちが読んでいる本が頭を打つことで私たちを目覚めさせないなら、
私たちは何を読んでいますか？あなたが書いているように、
それは私たちを幸せにするでしょうか？良い主よ、
私たちに本がなくても私たちは幸せになります。
私たちを幸せにする本の種類は、私たちが自分で書かなければならない種類のものです。
しかし、私たちは、自殺のように、誰からも遠く離れた森に追放されるなど、
自分よりも愛する人の死のように、私たちを深く悲しませ、
災害のように私たちに影響を与える本が必要です。
本は私たちの中の凍った海の斧でなければなりません。
それが私の信念です。
-フランツ・カフカ

 

“Perfect,” Snooze said, “thank you, Book.”

 

She turned to Jors.

 

“In the box are the teeth of the Ikergir that attacked and slew your mother, Gish. You avenged her by tracking them for eleven days, finding their den and watching their movements. Then you  fought and destroyed the entire brood, and pulled as many teeth as you could carry back with you to mark your vengeance. No others know of this, save for you and the gods.”

 

Technically, that day, he invented hunting.

 

The whole village was stunned to silence, and Jors’ eyes widened. He trembled slightly, but caught himself and forced a more relaxed demeanor. He turned to his people, and dropped his hands, his clear voice ringing out before them.

 

“These are true words,” he said, and then looked over his shoulder, “I will vouch for the Blessed. They speak for the gods.”

 

The village cheered.

 

Snooze looked over at Riff, and the other god shared a telepathic chuckle before winking.

 

Then the flood gates were opened, and suddenly, the entire village wanted to have the answers to their greatest questions and deepest desires.

 

“When comes the next rain?”

 

“What lies at the bottom of the ocean?”

 

“Why am I bald on my head, but my back is as furry as a Zuzu?”

 

“Dela people!” Snooze announced, raising her hands to quiet them like she’d seen Jors do. The assembled mass grew silent.

 

“I will answer all of your questions,” she continued, and took a breath.

 

“But first, I’m going to need you to do something for me.”