Back at my cabin, after washing up, I sat down and examined my actions. How did I end up doing this? I kept asking myself. I had gone out with the intent of finding out about the symbol on the hilt of my sword, and somehow managed to not only not obtain that information, but leak a potentially critical secret in a moment of absent-mindedness. Now I had a man, whose name I didn't even know, potentially coming to my temporary residence at which point I was going to try to bribe him into keeping his mouth shut somehow. A retrospective analysis of how I had handled the situation wasn't charitable, and revealed multiple behavioral flaws reaching back days.

This body exerts an influence over my thought patterns, was the conclusion that I was forced to come to. Somehow, the set of instincts that it was wired with not only informed me of their intent, but actually exerted influence over my mental state. Thinking back even further I noticed what I now saw as warning signs of this issue as far back as the second day I had spent on the island. I have a rogue intelligence linked to my own, I concluded, I don't even know how it's possible, but it's the only conclusion that makes sense besides gross incompetence. This notion, when thought about, triggered an instinct from the body which I knew by its physiological effects to be fear. The very thought of it terrified me.

The man did end up coming to my cabin before sundown, conspicuously absent of his weapon. Once inside, the man was put off by the apparently sparse furnishings of my cabin. I invited him to sit at the table, as I knew that humans tended to prefer eating at tables to eating on the go when possible, and sat across from him on top of one of the crates I had brought inside. To my surprise, the man ate very little, about half of what I consumed in a typical meal. After eating mostly in silence, we got to talking.

“Blacksmith said my sword's a piece of junk,” the man grunted. From a purely utilitarian perspective, I agreed with the blacksmith. A weapon that could only chop was inferior to a weapon that could chop and stab, all other things being roughly equal. The Scimitar-like blade didn’t even have the advantages of a pure chopping weapon like an axe, only a minor mechanical advantage when cutting.

“Is it being repaired then?” I asked.

“I don't know,” the man sighed, “I bought it from a merchant a while back, but maybe I should just get one more like the sword you used.” Seeing an opportunity, I took it.

“I have a spare if you want it,” I offered. The man looked at me suspiciously. “Of course, I'd like you to do something for me in return,” I added. I got up and picked up the spare sword from the corner of the room, the placed it on the table in front of the man. He unsheathed it and looked it over, apparently impressed.

“So you'd just give this to me?” he asked incredulously. “You seem like the kind of man who would need a spare sword.”

“What's your name?” I asked.

“Zhihyb,” the man replied.

“Zhihyb, do you recognize the symbol on the hilt of the sword?” I asked him directly. Zhihyb looked at it, squinted, and turned the handle around.

“Looks like some mercenary company symbol,” he shrugged, “I've only been outside Suwlahtk a handful of times, so I wouldn't know which one it is. There are at least a dozen on the island as far as I've heard.” Disappointing, I thought, but not surprising.

“Will you agree to keep the contents of our spar today to yourself? Specifically, will you agree not to speak about my strength or taazmoydh?” I asked. The question was sharp and drew Zhihyb's attention to me from the sword.

“Why would you want to?” he asked. “You won.”

“Will you or won't you?” I prodded.

“Sure, if you really want me to,” Zhihyb replied, “so I can have this, right?”

“I'll be taking your damaged sword in return,” I said.

“Sure,” Zhihyb smiled, “I have no problem with that. This weapon is far better quality.” Can I trust him to actually keep his word? I wondered, Probably not if someone important pressures him, but to keep my slip-up secret for a little while longer instead of it turning into a rumor it's a worthwhile trade. I once again silently cursed myself for having put myself in a position where I needed to rely on nothing more than a human's word, and resolved never to let it happen again.

“One more thing,” I added, “have you ever heard of a large tetrahed- I mean triangular structure anywhere near here? It would be taller than the buildings in town, and completely black.”

The next morning, even while I bathed in the creek, I was still puzzled at Zhihyb's reaction to my final question. He almost ran out of the cabin, I recalled, the change in his demeanor was striking. I think I need to bring this up to the village leaders and get that information quickly, before he says something he shouldn't and this whole “deal” with the village ends up falling apart. I scrubbed the blood out of my waist undergarment with some makeshift soap I created, eventually getting it clean enough that it wouldn't look stained if someone were to see it. With my clothes now on again, and my chest plate underneath, I set out into the village.

Before stopping at the village leaders' hall I took a slight detour to the blacksmith's forge building. As I had suspected, Zhihyb did tell him that I was the new owner of his strange oversized scimitar, and the smith asked me what I wanted him to do with it. After some negotiation, I traded the scrapped sword for a set of whetstones so that I could fix the dulled parts of the sword I still had. And by “fix”, I mean I'm going to dull them purposefully so that they don't get damaged so easily, I thought as I left the building with my whetstones tucked inside my tunic.

Vowteyz was standing outside the village leaders' hall when I arrived, and looked at me with the usual suspicion I had come to expect from the townspeople. “So I hear I let you into our training ground yesterday afternoon,” he said in a vaguely accusatory tone.

“There's a gap in the fence,” I said casually. “Zhihyb asked me who let me in, and just to see how he would react I said you did. Is that a problem?” Vowteyz sighed deeply and slumped his shoulders.

“Zhihyb has a new sword, and he's being very tight-lipped about why,” he replied. “Did you give it to him? What happened to the old one?”

“Does it matter?” I asked back. “I have no issue with him having that weapon, and he has no issue with his old weapon being gone.” Vowteyz groaned and scratched his forehead.

“Why are you here?” he asked.

“I need to ask the leaders about something,” I said, “I have reason to believe that the subject may be sensitive, so I don't want to speak about it with anyone but them.” Vowteyz curled his lips in and looked at me doubtfully.

“They're not busy right now, you can go in,” he said after a few moments, “you have to leave that sword out here though.” I nodded and removed my sword from my hip, handing it to Vowteyz as I walked in through the double door. So he didn't see that I'm carrying a knife, I thought with a small smile, looks like I'm not the only sloppy one. An impulse that I now recognized as my body's own will prodded me positively, as if pleased by my deception.

Both of the leaders were at their desks, lounging and clearly not working very hard. Upon seeing me, the patriarch stiffed up and sat straight, then whispered something quickly to the matriarch. She looked at him with a snort, then saw me and reacted much the same way that he did. I approached the approximate point I had stood at the last time I spoke to them, then stopped and took a breath.

“You recall the terms of our agreement?” I prompted. The two leaders looked at each other again, then back to me.

“We haven't violated them,” the patriarch said, “but you've come close several times as I've heard. You should be glad Pae'eyl has no political power.”

“I'm calling in the request for information,” I said, ignoring the jab that had been directed at me. “I need to know everything you can tell me about a certain landmark, the location and nature of which I do not know anything about.” The matriarch immediately leaned in to object.

“It's not like we have the whole island memorized!” she snapped, instantly on the defensive.

“The landmark I am looking for is a large tetrahedron,” I continued, “a shape which is made up of four triangles of equal size placed together to create a shape with volume. Using my own height as a measurement, it is at least fifty times as tall as me at its highest point. The landmark is pure black, apparently reflecting very little light, and resides within a grove of some kind.” I did my best to recall the details I had been shown, but my vocabulary was somewhat limited. Judging by the looks on the faces of the leaders they knew what I was talking about.

“Why do you want to know about it?” the patriarch asked, staring intently at me.

“Are you reneging on the deal?” I asked back, tinging my voice with hostility as I stared back at him. To his credit the patriarch didn't flinch, nor did he back down.

“No, but I need to ask you something first,” the patriarch replied. “What do you know of Rehv?” The question hung in the air, and silence followed it. From the body language of the patriarch and matriarch, it was clear that both were very tense. The matriarch in particular looked like she was afraid, but hiding it. The patriarch was readying himself for violence, that much was obvious. Wasn't that the name of some mythological figure that Zhihyb told me about when I asked for the definition of taazmoydh? I recalled.

“Nothing,” I replied. It was a partial lie, but in truth I knew nothing about the figure at all besides that someone, somewhere believed that he gave humans skill with magic as a reward or something. Neither leader believed me.

“I'm going to ask you again,” the patriarch growled. If I lied once, why wouldn't I lie again you idiot? I wanted to ask.

“I've heard the name one time,” I said more truthfully, “I know nothing about what he, or she, or it is. Should I take this to mean that the landmark I've asked about is associated with this figure for some reason?” The patriarch gritted his teeth, then glanced at the matriarch, then looked back to me. The matriarch met his eyes when he looked at her, and some information was shared between them through subtle body language which I couldn't quite interpret.

“Do your people follow Rehv now?” the patriarch asked. “Is that why you've come to us?”

“Who, or what, is Rehv?” I asked back flatly. “I am not a member of a rival nation if that's what you're asking.”

“You know exactly who Rehv is you npo-” the patriarch spat, before a whistle from the matriarch cut him off. He looked at her angrily, then settled down and leaned back in his chair.

“The landmark you asked about, it is called a noypeyyoyjh,” the matriarch said in a much calmer voice.

“A?” I asked. “As in a singular one? There is more than one?” Please just tell me that you know which one I'm asking about, I pleaded silently.

“There are many of them,” the matriarch explained, and I felt the disappointment not only in my mind, but rising from my body as well. “They are ancient structures, and have existed for as long as any history has been recorded,” she continued. “There are two in Uwriy, one far to the east and one far to the west. Neither of them resides on Awsriyah Island. The west of Uwriy is mostly cliffs and mountains, so if the noypeyyoyjh you search for resides in a forest then it is the one to the east.”

“And what does any of this have to do with Rehv?” I asked, summoning up a question at random from the whirlwind of questions in my mind.

“Rehv's cultists worship them,” the patriarch growled, “but you already know that because you are clearly one of them.”