Bondsfungi: Epilogue (The Weirkey Chronicles) (Patreon)

This epilogue isn't meant to be a cliffhanger (considering I did that last book), instead a strange plot hook that readers might not expect. I had figured it would be answering a question no one was asking, but a few people actually ended up theorizing on the subject on Discord. So hopefully it will be some fun bread crumbs.

Less positively, I'm afraid that I'm not really prepared for the upcoming period. Usually I try to prepare a bunch of fun posts for between books (tutorials, blueprints, and the like) but due to recent personal issues, I wasn't able to build a backlog those. The sixth book has a basic draft, but I think it needs some improvements and additions before posting.

Also need to decide when I'm going to officially publish Bondsfungi on Amazon. Usually I wait a month or so, but there's going to be a Cradle release next month, and those always distort the market. Haven't decided whether I want to push this one to release earlier or delay it.

Anyway, I don't have a lot after this, but do expect some polls and a few fun things over the coming weeks. Thank you all for your support, and I hope you enjoy the epilogue. ^-^

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Epilogue 

For the most part, Mihul preferred to avoid Norro Yorthin. Even though it was just on the other side of the gate, the wind was terrible on his leaves, and the sight of so much desolate earth left him philosophically disturbed. However, it did contain a link to the world of Arbai, whose inhabitants could be as intriguing as they were fundamentally inhuman. On occasion, he had no choice but to enter Fithe to participate in an event.

When he entered the stone box that they called a building, Mihul was surprised to find it more reasonably appointed than most. No soil anywhere, of course, but there was a large region with sufficient space for an Aathali audience. There were also a significant number of Arbaians present, along with the expected Fithans and perhaps other races. They all looked much the same to him, with their identical mammalian bodies.

Mihul disliked to waste time, so he had entered just before the presentation was to begin. Even if the claims - and quite suspect claims they were - proved to be untrue, he would have wasted no more time than the allotted hour. Before he waited long, a Fithan stepped onto the stage.

His appearance created some stir among the Fithans, so Mihul examined him more carefully. Given his blue skin, he must have been a water Fithan, not the dominant local species. Whoever he was, he raised a hand for silence and then stepped forward to address the audience.

"The Order of the Deepest Blue welcomes you. I believe that all of you will find tonight most enlightening." He bowed to the mammal section of the audience. "I sincerely apologize for the overzealous behavior of some members of our order. I hope that by the time the night is done, you will understand their emotions, if not their conduct."

That created an additional stir, which interested Mihul not at all. Fortunately, the presenter wasted no time, gesturing for an Arbaian to join him. It was one of their long species, the vines with fangs. As it rose, the robed man continued.

"Because I cannot offer proof of some of the claims I intend to make tonight, I wanted to begin with a demonstration. My colleague here has soulcrafted a skill for scholarly purposes: through the analysis of specific characteristics, she is able to determine the age of any object with a high degree of accuracy. You there, sir, how old are you?"

"I feel that you will tell me," another Arbaian said. The presenter chuckled and then gestured to his companion, who slithered closer and paused a moment before speaking.

"Forty seven years, six months, four days," she said. "According to Fithan time, but I can convert to another calendar if soul translation was insufficient."

"No, no, you were quite accurate." The Arbaian shifted back in surprise and many in the audience expressed polite approval.

Several others demanded that the Arbaian vine guess their ages as well, the entire process striking Mihul as dubious. Those speaking could easily have been planted for the sake of running a con. While the presentation continued, Mihul carefully reached into his soulhome and retrieved two items before sending them wafting to the stage.

"How old are my leaves?" he asked.

The Arbaian hesitated slightly longer than usual before answering, "The first is six days, while the second is a sublime material that is more than five centuries old. I fear that my technique is more accurate for recent dates than for ancient materials."

Against his will, Mihul rustled his branches in surprise. Everyone was watching him closely, so he had no choice but to vocalize his thoughts. "You are quite correct." That caused another wave of approval, and Mihul had to admit that he had been bested. Her technique was clearly accurate, the question was what purpose it served.

"You there, young man." The presenter regained control of the room and gestured to another Fithan. "Why don't you come up here and be tested?"

"Why not?" The young Fithan swaggered up to the stage, adjusting the enormous sword across his back. Mihul reconsidered his designation: this one was another mammal, but the coloration was wrong for Fithe. His suspicion was confirmed the next moment by the presenter.

"Welcome, welcome. Now, you look like a Fithan man just past adolescence, but you're from another world, aren't you?"

"Yeah, what about it?" The young outsider crossed his arms belligerently. "My name is Raythe Darkblade, and I'll be the greatest soulcrafter this city has ever seen. Does it matter where I come from?"

"Not at all. But if you would stay still so that my colleague could guess your age..."

The Arbaian slithered closer and waited, but this time Mihul thought that the delay was a ruse. She knew exactly what the result was, intentionally delaying the revelation. As the pause extended, more and more members of the audience leaned in. When she spoke quietly, everyone heard the answer.

"Four months old."

"Four months?" Raythe turned on the Arbaian angrily. "I guess your skill is worthless after all, because I'm nineteen!"

"Or so he believes." The presenter stepped in, voice rising over the crowd, all traces of his formerly jovial manner gone. "I invite every scholarly Arbaian in the audience to date him by any means available to you. Believe me, you will find that the outsiders are much younger than they appear. This is because none of them are what they appear to be."

"Hey, just what are yo-" The outsider was cut off as the Arbaian wrapped the end of her vine around his waist and his mouth.

"Outsiders do not come to the Nine Worlds as souls housed within bodies. No, a new being is created in the moment they appear, one that contains memories that may be no more accurate than the apparent age of their bodies. When tested, none of their history can be proved prior to the point where their being was constructed. I ask you, what else exhibits the same behavior?" The presenter looked over the audience and bared his teeth. "You know the answer: demons. Outsiders are not themselves demons, but they are every bit as unnatural."

"Enough!" The outsider pushed his way free and began swinging wildly with his sword. Everyone nearby shifted away in disapproval except for the presenter, who Mihul noted watching him with a sliver of teeth showing. "Why are you telling these lies? I came here to fulfill a great destiny!"

"Or so you believe. But I believe everyone in this audience understands that intentions and results are rather different. If you w-"

"I'm not listening to this any longer! Come on, let's go!" The outsider leapt back to where he had sat, grabbing at a Fithan. An instant later, both of them disappeared via weirkey, prompting surprise from the audience. The Authority with him had certainly hidden their presence well.

"It's a pity he ran, but that is usually the case when outsiders are presented with the truth. They are rather unstable, you see." The presenter spread his arms to encompass the audience. "I hope that you will listen to what I say. These beings appear to be like us, may even believe themselves to be, but they are artificial in body and soul. Not every outsider is evil, but every single one of them draws demons - please feel free to check your own records and see how they increase along with outsiders. Their very presence weakens the integrity of the Nine Realms."

All around Mihul, the audience murmured and pressed closer. He was forced to admit that he found himself credulous. Analysis of demonic trends was a minor hobby of his, and it was true that their pace varied oddly over time. Perhaps the presence of outsiders would be the hidden variable that could explain the unusual fluctuations.

"It seems I have your attention." The presenter bared more teeth. "Now we come to the question I offer all of you: what are we going to do about it?"