Behold, for I am the will of the reaper!
Beg for the mercy of your worthless angels!

Alesana, "Hymn for the Shameless"

"It's not working, Agatha. The balance is being restored."

"Balance is inimical to nature. It will always restore itself."

"Yes, but I thought I had severed the ties."

"The chains that bind your soul together will always be present, Katrophe."

"I would break these chains, for good."

"Even if that means destroying yourself?"

"Just so."

--

Chaos has always been a beautiful realm. The destructive and creative mingling of potent energies created a landscape that was ever changing. Life and death fought their eternal war at a frenzied pace, leaving remnants of the persistent battle littered across the realm.

One such remnant was now Tempesturo's Champion. Going by the names Blend, Jelaephon Delai, or Xezvimhi the Birvuo - take your pick - the figure was armored in an intricate suit fashioned to resemble flames, with the sun of Chaos carved into the chest-piece. Here in Chaos, the man was gifted with flesh and blood, and a pair of brown eyes peered out from the visor of his helmet.

In his possession was the soul of a goddess, thus far silent after her traumatic ordeal with Valorius, which had left her spirit stripped bare. A bundle of twigs strewn together to resemble a small person was the vessel which locked the goddess Sharay within, and Blend glanced down at the pouch on his hip where the soul snare now resided. Was Sharay biding her time? Blend couldn't be sure.

He had bigger fish to fry. Questions about his origins, about his life before this one, returned to him with increasing regularity. It was driving him mad. He couldn't trust his memories, his own past. His life as a sailor had been a lie, an exhaustive cover-up that buried beneath it the hidden truths of Xezvimhi's violent reign.

Avatar of Death. He still couldn't believe it. He had once been a puppet of Silenti, if Fingers or the Almeddans were telling the truth. Someone had performed a ritual, to destroy his memories, to cleanse him of the evil that had been Xezvimhi. Reflecting on it, this wasn't entirely different from what Valorius had done to Sharay. Like Blend, she had been stripped of her very identity.

A part of Blend wanted to reclaim that identity, no matter how dark and morbid his past may be. So he set off in search of Fingers and Agatha, the two people most likely to explain to him how and why he has become this.

He hummed a long forgotten song, a tune his mother Nineveh had shared with him while cradling him to sleep, as he trudged into the chaotic realm, searching for answers.

Blend found Fingers and Agatha in the usual place - the hut on the hill. Surprisingly, the hut was in one piece (last time Blend had seen the building, it was rubble beneath the foot of a gigantic Demigrath). Agatha was sitting on the porch, busily rocking herself as her fingers worked on a small bundle of sticks. Fingers with his bulging frame was leaning against the railing as Blend approached, a look of witty reproach in his eyes.

"We need to talk," they both said at the same time.

"No, you need to shut up," Agatha complained. "Can't you see I'm concentrating? Foolish imbeciles, plaguing poor Agatha at every turn, hunting her down like vultures. I wish the Demigrath would step on them instead of my beloved home." A pair of bespectacled eyes peered up from the wooden doll in her lap. "What? Did I say something offensive?"

Fingers scowled at her, then turned his angry gaze to Blend. "What on earth do you think you're doing?!" Blend made to respond but Fingers lifted his hand and continued. "We go through all this work to save you from being a puppet, and now you've got Tempesturo's hand so far up your ass I'm not sure who I should expect to respond! And to make matters worse, you're carrying around the essence of a goddess - of DEATH. Are you a insane?! Everything is coming undone.."

Blend studied the man. Fingers was a sailor - according to his memories. The problem was, Blend now knew these memories to be false. Every memory before boarding to boat in Aste'Tenur with Djarin was clearly fake, and the more Blend pried into his past the more he found the threads unravelling before his very eyes. One moment, his mother would be blond, the next a brunette, until he realized that both were probably lies. Fingers fell into this category. His past was laced with interactions with Fingers, from working on ships to drinking in bars, but each one fell apart under severe scrutiny. Fingers, or what Blend knew of him, was a lie. And Fingers knew the truth.

"Let's get things straight, Fingers. Suppose I am a puppet. What of it? I have chosen my path, it's not like Tempesturo slid me over his hand one day on a whim to show Galenous his ventriloquist skills. My god and I have an agreement. It's one we can both terminate, it's not enslavement. Furthermore, this little goddess Sharay is sleeping right now and when she wakes up I plan on showing her the truth of Chaos. Everything's under control. Really, you should be worried less about what I'm doing and more about what I'm thinking.

"I'm thinking you've been lying to me this whole time. I'm thinking you know too much and you're deliberately saying too little. I've really been thinking that the only puppeteer around here has been you. So I want some answers and you'll supply them, before I start thinking that Tempesturo's fire might burn souls as quickly as it burns flesh."

"Answers? By gods, Blend, now's not the time, we --"

"It's now or never," Blend warned, his eyes narrowing.

Pausing from her work at the wooden stick doll in her lap, Agatha gave Blend a look that could freeze the sun. "If you're going to start a fire, don't do it on the porch, I'm warning you!"

--

A few minutes later, Blend and Fingers were walking down a path with Agatha's hut well behind them. They had both made the wise decision to get out of there before Agatha made them into some child's birthday present. Besides, the time had come for a private conversation between the two.

Fingers had to admit, he'd make an awesome doll.

--

"So?" Blend finally asked.

"Alright," Fingers began as they walked. A massive grove of trees were on the right side of the pathway and the route followed this treeline. To their left was an expansive valley, beautiful in the way only Chaos could be. A river of molten metal flowed down the valley, and bizarre plants jutted up from the shores, glimmering leaves lifted eagerly towards the heavens while Tempesturo's sunlight rained down. Fingers stared at the valley as he spoke. "You want answers. Let's hear the questions."

"First of all. Who are you?" Hit them hard and fast, Blend's mother always used to say - though he was sure the memory was false. Regardless, the advice was sound, and Blend watched as Fingers tightened at the question.

"I'm Fingers, what do you mean?"

"No. You're not. You were there when my .. 'rebirth' .. happened. Everything you've told me so far suggests you actually performed the ritual yourself. You seem to know everything about me, what I'm doing, how many goddesses I'm carrying in my pouches, everything. So I will ask again and I want an honest response. Who in Hades are you?"

Fingers sighed. "My name is Katrophe Denryu."

"That's a mouthful. No wonder you have a nickname. Why don't people just call you 'Kat'?"

"Yeah.."

"Okay, kitty kat, your name means nothing to me but this is progress at least. Next question. Why are you so interested in what I'm doing?"

"You were the Avatar of Death. You were going to destroy everything and --"

"I got that part. But, now I'm safe, right? So why are you following me around? What is your agenda?"

"I had to make sure Silenti's gone."

"Good. He is. I saw it with my own two eyes. Actually, technically, I didn't. I was a skeleton, didn't have eyes. Still I saw it. So why don't you leave me alone?"

"Because.." Fingers seemed to struggle for an answer. Then he turned his gaze to Blend and shook his head. "You want the answers? I'll simplify things for you, since we could be at it for three years if I don't. You and I are linked, Blend. We have always been this way. Among our kind, the Birvuo, there has and always will be a rift of personalities.. a divide.. We are that divide, don't you see? And when we split, we became unique, but ever bound.. ever destined to adversarial destruction, ever struggling for peace. Not even peace, no, we were struggling for freedom."

"Whoa, who opened the floodgates and let a bunch of nonsense pour out?"

"I did." Fingers sounded morbid. "I opened the floodgates, by severing our connection.. so long ago.. I killed us, to free us. I tried again. And again. A hundred times. But I failed.. I'll try it again, whatever it takes.. to save my soul. I just hope..

"I hope I don't have to kill us again."

The sun was setting, but the realm of Chaos didn't seem to mind. Beautiful insects buzzed to life, glowing and guiding their mates as they poured from the forest to dance over the river of molten metal. Small grey birds darted through their midst to feed on the unsuspecting insects.

Fingers was staring at the valley while Tempesturo's armored champion stood at his side. For a moment, Fingers was lost in thought, perhaps framing what he was about to say. Finally, the man looked to Blend, his eyes flooded with memories.

"It began before we were even born, in Almedda, our home. The city of Veyja had assembled twenty-some mages for the sole purpose of bringing to life a new form of creature - the Birvuo - as guardians for their city. Keep in mind, this was during an intense war between the houses, before Almedda was united.. The goal of these mages was simple. To create an order of incredible beings that would be virtually impossible to kill, and more importantly to ensure those beings remained under their direct control. The ritual used Venefican sorceries, Accersan life-magic, and blood from six different animals to construct the five Birvuo races: Tiger, Wolf, Bear, Spider, and Eagle."

"And the sixth animal?"

"The sixth was the blood of the dragon Arcteus, the demigod who resided at the feet of Kismaltos, Goddess of the Underworld. Arcteus defended Kismaltos from Chaos, and other virulent forces, and the Almeddans decided to use the blood of Order to enrich their process.. not only with power, but with reliability.

"They succeeded in creating the Birvuo, obviously, and with many of the properties they desired. Among them was an engineered response to our environment - a hardening reaction. For example, a fire may burn us one day, then only singe us a week later, and through constant exposure one could become immune. These were properties of Arcteus, of Order."

"That sounds nifty but.. I don't care much for Order."

"You'll care for it even less after this. The mages worked considerably to make us puppets, very literally. They were concerned that powerful sentient creatures might rebel. Hah, what gave them that idea? So they wove their sorceries into the fabric of our souls. Checks and balances, to prevent us from getting out of hand.

"This didn't work. The flaws in their rituals led to insanity, among all the children. It didn't really manifest itself until we were five years, when the Birvuo began developing split personalities, psychological disorders, and violent outbursts. Surely it was a surprise to them when we - the Tiger Birvuo, specifically - unleashed waves of sorcery that destroyed every last mage in the building within moments.

"Our insanity had manifested itself, and demonstrated incredible potential in warfare. Surviving mages viewed it as a success in the applications of sorcery and life. But they lost control, and lost their experiments. All five of the Birvuo escaped, children but somehow still capable of worming their way out of the realm. The Tiger Birvuo - you and I - ended up in a realm called Tyran. It was here.. after you attacked Topaz.. that I had enough. I decided to carve my soul ... our soul .. in two, to shed the violence that only manifested when I was insane."

"You're implying .. that we're a split personality?"

Fingers nodded, studying the birds as they feasted on the glowing insects. "Split, in every sense of the word except one. Like I said before, we have always been bound to each other through invisible forces. I suspect it's the blood of Arcteus, that made our soul. It's something I cannot undo."

Blend shook his head. "So you tried to kill me."

"Tried?! Hah! I've succeeded - a few times! Bansca Deepsinger was kind enough to drive a blade hilt deep into your heart while you were gaping at Maxim's plummet a few years back, and more recently those Kkarl'at blasted you into so many bits you painted a pub's roof red. But you see the problem, don't you? You don't die. You go somewhere else! Chaos, Hell, Tyran, Almedda, Aleris, Odin.. it's always somewhere. And then you come and find me, without even trying."

"Why don't we just work together? We've been doing fine lately."

"Tried that. It doesn't work."

"So what's your grand solution to all of this?"

Fingers reached out and grabbed a floating insect as it wisped through the air nearby. It buzzed impatiently in his hand as he studied it. "Death?" His hand clenched into a fist and the buzzing stopped.