“We’ll be setting off for Lumen in three days, Vim. You sure you don’t want to just sail with us?” Kevin asked.

I tried not to hear his hopeful tone. “I would if I had the time, but I promised Light I’d return quickly. Knowing her she has a reason for me to need to do so,” I said, using Light as an excuse.

Kevin nodded knowingly. “Yes… it’d not be wise to assume wrongly, especially when concerning her,” he said, finding that to be very reasonable.

Relieved he did so, I turned to smile to his wife. “I’ll let Renn know of your request, Anka.”

Anka smiled back and nodded. “Thank you, Vim. May your travels be smooth,” she said gently.

I nodded, shook Kevin’s arm in parting, and turned and left their home. They bid me farewell, and I was glad that their children and parents were still asleep. It was early morning, so not too surprising.

The two waved even as I headed deeper into the city, walking into snow and darkness. The sun was just now rising. They had stood on their doorstep, on their porch, to watch me leave… as if regretful to see me go. They were a good and gentle family. Although Kevin was a hardened sailor, like Anka’s brother had been… they were not crass at all. They were a prim and proper family, one steeped deep in rules and honor. I actually enjoyed spending time with them, and was regretful that Renn hadn’t been able to join me this time.

But I didn’t have the time to indulge, even in good company.

I needed to return to Lumen, as fast as possible. I’d almost not even stopped in to check on them, and the only reason I had done so was out of Berri’s request.

Horn had dropped off her letter, the one for me that Gerald had given me, off at their home. With Anka. They had been very kind to Horn, which had been a big deal to Berri because it turned out Horn had not been very… kind to them.

He had not been outright rude, of course. Horn was not that kind of man. He had simply been so concerned for his daughter that he had, in his haste and worry, kind of neglected to tell Anka who he was. He had simply pushed through her front door, uninvited and unannounced; loudly shouting he had a letter he needed delivered. He pushed the letter off onto her and then ran off, leaving them shell-shocked. He had scared Anka and her family, to the point her youngest daughter had passed out from the stress.

Horn and Berri had sent me with a new letter, one written in this land’s language, with gifts of thanks and apologies. Kevin and Anka had thankfully not been bothered or offended at all, even though they had every right to be so. They had even wanted me to send their own batch of gifts and letters back to Berri and her family. Thankfully, by using Light’s presence, I’d gotten out of that little side-quest.

Walking through the port town, I headed for the western exit. The one that would lead me back west, and then north alongside the coast of the inland sea. Back up to Lumen.

I was anxious to return. Although glad that Narli was fine, as much as she could be, I was nearly giddy at being gone from there.

It was one thing to linger for Narli’s health and safety… but, thanks to who and what she was, such a venture had… dangers involved with it.

I’d heard three prophecies while tending to Narli. Or rather, simply waiting to see if she’d get better or not. And all three had been worse than the last.

A prophecy of someone shouting for help, and being lost.

A prophecy of Narli encountering a strange human. One she wanted me to keep away from her.

Both of those were… although upsetting, both understandable and something I didn’t mind handling.

Someone was lost? I’ll find them. Eventually.

Narli had someone that gave her the ick? That one day I’d have to put the fear of gods into, and make sure they never bothered her again? Also not a problem.

But the last one…

I tried not to even think of that one.

Leaving the port city, I groaned as I picked up my pace. Luckily it was early enough no one else was on the roads. Unluckily, although it was snowing, it wasn’t doing so very strongly. I knew once the sun was fully risen, the road would become littered with travelers and merchants. The kind that made it hard for me to run too quickly without causing issues.

I needed to travel as far as I could, as fast as I could, before the roads became busy. Although Lumen was surrounded by forests, regrettably there were a lot of roads and little farmsteads and villages all around it too. It made traveling at my faster speeds… difficult.

Just as the previous days travels, I felt like I made good time. But I knew that wasn’t the case. I simply had a lot on my mind. No matter what I thought about, I did so deeply enough that I barely noticed the miles come and go as I hurried along my path.

A storm came and went. The sun rose up, and then started to set again. The waves of the nearby sea were sometimes loud and rowdy, then other times quiet and gentle.

I was about half way to Lumen, running along a beach instead of the road nearby, when I found something tug me from my thoughts.

I frowned at the weird feeling, since it upset me. Not just because it had distracted me from the memory of Renn’s drunken face, but because it was a feeling I’d not felt while traveling in… well…

Since Landi’s. Since the nation of stone.

Slowing, I glanced around as I tried to tell where the feeling was coming from. A part of me wanted to say I felt it coming from the ocean, but…

It wasn’t deep enough. Or moving fast enough to be some kind of fish. And instead…

Walking towards a large cluster of rocks, ones littered with ocean foam and life, I bit my cheek as I confirmed what I felt and knew, even if instinctively.

“Oh no…!” a tiny voice cried out, and then there were a bunch of little tips and taps as small pointed feet hurried away.

My shoulders tensed as I watched the colorful crab hurry up and along a wet rock. One that had just moments ago been doused by a wild wave. It skittered up the rock with such hurry that it actually slipped. The crab barely made it half way up the rock before sliding backward, and falling back down to the other rock below. The little pincers wobbled wildly in the air as it fell, rolling along the rock and onto its back. It landed harshly, even for a little thing as it was, but I knew better than to think a monarch would die from such a fall… even as little as it was.

“Oh no! Oh no, no!” the tiny monarch cried out with utter terror as it tried to roll off its back. The thing was definitely a crab, though not one I recognized. Not only did it have a colorful shell, of blues and reds, it had more legs and arms than crabs usually did. It had two sets of arms, each with pincers, and judging by the way they were flinging around in the air they were far more mobile than a typical crab’s should be. Both them and its legs had extra joints it seemed.

In fact its limbs, with the extra joints and better shapes, should have allowed it to easily get back up off its back. It was simply panicking, and not thinking straight.

Stepping up onto the shore rock and off the sand, I kept my eye on the flailing crab… but also looked around.

I didn’t feel any other monarchs. I felt no divinity nearby, other than the small crab trying to find its feet before me.

Yet.

“Please…! No!” it cried out, finally getting itself situated upright again. The moment it was back on its feet properly it darted off, this time instead of trying to clamber over the nearby rock as to get back to the ocean it instead headed for a nearby pool. One that was deep enough that I had no doubt it also connected to the ocean, even if between tight crevices between all the rocks around here.

Before it could get very far though I stepped over and placed my foot down.

My first instinct had been to crush it. To step upon it as I would a bug. It’d be normal. Natural. I’d have not lost a moment of sleep over it. Instead though my foot landed a foot or so before it. Causing it to come to a stop with a small skid, and nearly run right into my boot as it did.

“You seem to realize who I am,” I said down to it.

The colorful crab went still… and then after a few moments it turned upward. The thing’s four pincers all snapped, but not in a way as if to display displeasure or to be threatening… and instead as if to nod and acknowledge my statement.

Figured. It’d not have panicked as it had so readily otherwise. Even though colorful, and odd thanks to its unique number of limbs, it was still just a crab. Something that a normal human would likely ignore, or at the very most try to catch out of interest. Not something to be feared, not even by a monarch this small.

Though…

Thinking of the small monarch back at Telmik, the one Renn had found dying in the mansio, I sighed and pulled back my foot.

Standing up a little straighter, I felt strangely stupid as I stared down at the tiny creature. It was only about half the size of my foot.

Too tiny for a monarch. Maybe one of the smallest I’d ever seen.

Bending down a little, I tried to not do so too suddenly. The crab jolted, taking a few steps back even though I had kneeled down gently. I studied its little beady eyes, ones that looked not too unalike a normal crab’s… and saw the intelligence within them. There was a depth to their tiny blackness.

“No kill…?” it asked with its tiny voice.

“Depends. Are you going to answer my questions honestly?” I asked it.

The thing’s mandibles danced a bit, as if to mimic the way a person’s lips acted when stressed and worried. “If I do… spare me?” it asked after a moment.

“Sure,” I said.

Maybe.

Little bubbles filtered out of its mouth, popping as it raised its pincers up and shook them at me, as if to offer me them for a handshake as to seal the deal.

I didn’t accept them, as the crab raised and lowered its body a bit, as if dancing. “Okay! Okay!” it said, sounding rather happy.

Maybe it was simple. Not too uncommon for monarchs, especially small and tiny ones such as this… but…

Glaring at the thing, I noted the tiny… almost unnoticeable bump in the rear end of its shell.

The thing had a heart almost too big for its body.

It was small now. But it wouldn’t be for long… almost as if…

Clenching my fists, I quickly contained my own fears and thoughts as I calmed myself.

“Who are you?” I asked it.

“Pinchie!”

Of course you have a name, and of course that’s what it is.

“Why are you here?” I asked. I’ve been up and down this beach hundreds of times and I’d never sensed this monarch before; I liked to run along it while going this way. It was far enough from any roads or towns that I could run without having to worry about being seen, and the nearby ocean was full of reefs and rocks in this area. The kind that kept boats and ships away too, so I was safe from both land and sea from distractions. Jokes on me.

“Was resting!” Pinchie said, and then danced again for a moment. “I am looking for a nice beach! One to call home! Searching hard!” Pinche then said.

My eyes narrowed. “You’re looking for a new home…? What happened to your last one?” I asked.

“Never had one…? Or are you saying I did? Did I not know of it? Do you know where it is?” Pinchie asked.

I felt a deep pit in my stomach as things started to make sense. Or well… things began to become verified, and my assumptions granted validation.

“How… old are you?” I dared to ask the tiny thing.

“Youngling! I’m just a few moons!” Pinchie happily answered.

Closing my eyes, I felt and heard my teeth crack under pressure.

The feeling of them shattering, particularly the back molars, hurt a little… but I ignored the pain as I took a very deep breath… and held it in.

Better my teeth than this whole region.

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For a few moments I just… remained still. Not really thinking. I rolled some broken teeth around in my mouth, and after a few moments… once I became calm enough, I opened my eyes to see what I was hearing.

The small monarch, Pinchie the crab, had stepped closer. It was tilted some more, as if to get a better look at me. Even while kneeling I was still just too big for it.

“Are you okay?” it asked worriedly.

Swallowing my broken teeth, I slowly nodded. “Yes. Thank you for asking,” I said softly.

The crab lowered again, as if about to dance up and down once more. It didn’t though, and instead made small noises with its pincers.

Oh Renn… what am I to do?

What would you do…?

Staring at the colorful creature, I felt a little sick. As if the teeth I’d just swallowed had been poisonous or something. They weren’t, of course, but it was a funny thought.

I knew what Renn would do here and now. But that was because she’d not understand the true meaning of what I’d just learned. She’d not have understood the circumstances. The full picture. Of what I’d just been given proof of.

But… was that this creature’s fault…?

No. It wasn’t. And it wasn’t as if Pinchie was the only proof I’ve been given lately. Far from it.

But it took this level of proof to finally make me admit it, and face it, it seemed.

I’ve always been a bit of a coward for certain things, but I had not thought myself so when concerning gods. Not like this. Maybe I was getting old. Too old.

“Do you know who I am, Pinchie…?” I asked it, trying not to sound as tired as I suddenly felt.

“Nope! But… you scared me for some reason! Earlier!” Pinchie said as they raised their little claws up to point at me.

“Sorry about that. I’ve been… on edge lately,” I said admittedly.

“Hmm…!” Pinchie bubbled at me a bit. “Maybe need good sleep! I like sleeping on warm rocks! Can’t find any lately, though!” Pinchie said as it lowered one of its claws as to tap on the wet rock we stood upon.

“It’s still winter, Pinchie,” I said.

“So it is!”

I sighed at the creature, and reached up to rub my eyes. My teeth were already re-growing, and so I blamed that on my headache… but I knew it wasn’t the healing that was causing it.

What do I do?

That human’s prophecy. Elaine’s. About the birth of a monarch. Narli’s strange prophecy. Light and the rest returning from the other continent, guided by prophecies themselves.

Renn… somehow involved with it all…

I used to rampage over scenarios like this. I used to rage and destroy, until nothing could taunt me like this again. There had been a time where just a single prophecy would have sent me into motion. In which case, in this scenario… Elaine’s? So many months ago? Even back then I’d almost panicked enough to do something stupid. It had been why I had clung to Renn all night long that day. It had been my way to keep myself from doing something stupid.

The me today though…?

With my hand still covering my eyes… I lowered it a bit as to peer down at the small crab. Pinchie wasn’t alone. A smaller crab was walking past, a small red one. It seemed to be ignoring Pinchie and me, but it still had its pincers raised up a bit as if to threaten Pinchie. As if to tell Pinchie to back off, even though it was the one nearing us. The two standing near each other only further showcased how special Pinchie was. Its legs and arms did indeed have an extra set of joints, and it seemed Pinchie had far better motor skills too. Pinchie had raised pincers, snapping them defiantly as the crab got closer. The other crab must not have liked what it saw, for it scuttled off quick.

The monarch bubbled and huffed, and turned back to me. Pinchie rose up, as if to puff out its chest while expecting praise. It looked like it was praising the sun. Probably was.

Very typical of a monarch. To have sentience, yet still… act like the simple creature it was. Even Miss Beak in all her wisdom and glory occasionally acted… well, like a bird.

But it was very obvious how young it was. And not just because of its small size, or how it talked. The thing’s body wasn’t even fully formed yet. It was hard to tell, but from what I could tell and feel… based off the size of its heart, and how strong it was, this little crab would one day grow into something rather serious. Not just in size either. I could feel the pulsating heart in the air. And in fact, those pulsations were seemingly what made it dance. Pinchie lowered and raised itself, in sync with the pulsations of the heart within it.

And that heart forced me to acknowledge what I didn’t want to.

It was a monarch.

One recently born.

It was a newborn monarch.

That was troubling in many forms. More than I wanted to admit.

“Pinchie…” I got its attention, since it had gone to focus on rubbing its face with a claw. It stopped doing so and turned to look back up at me.

“Hm?” It bubbled a bit.

“Were they there…? When you were born?” I asked with a whisper.

Pinchie’s little eyes tilted inward a bit. “My creator? Yes?”

More teeth cracked. Somehow this time, none broke.

With unsteady breaths, I nodded. “Are they… nearby?” I asked. I didn’t feel them. But I knew better than to trust my senses right now.

“Nope! Far away!” Pinchie said happily.

Breathing out a small breath, I wasn’t sure if I should be relived… or furious.

“What was the order they gave you, Pinchie?” I asked carefully.

The small crab stepped a few steps to the left, and then danced a little. “Upset. No order,” Pinchie said, for once sounding not very happy.

“None…? At all?” I asked. Upset?

“No. Pinchie too small. Too weak. Not good enough. So was left,” Pinchie said.

“Mhm…” I nodded, understanding full well what that meant. I’d heard such things before. Many times. Especially back during the wars.

Gods didn’t always create what they wanted. Their powers weren’t omnipotent. They failed often. In a certain theory that was why non-humans even existed. And why places like the Summit had been created.

And also why I had been able to kill them, too.

Though it seemed I had missed one. Somehow.

“So looking for home! Will build home! Will grow! Get big and strong! Then will get orders!” Pinchie then said, making noises with its pincers happily as it did.

Frowning at the little thing, I nodded. Yes. Odds are the god had not specifically said such a thing… but that would indeed be how a monarch would interpret its purpose. If a god simply… abandoned its creation, then said creation usually believed it was by design. That it was meant to simply do whatever it felt like doing, until it was time for it to fulfill its true purpose.

It has been hundreds… maybe even thousands of years, but Pinchie was not the first like this I’ve encountered.

Though… Pinchie might be the first I actually felt pity for, at least in such a moment. During the moment.

Back then I’d not really given the monarchs a chance to be pitiful, after all…

“What do you eat, Pinchie?” I asked the monarch, trying not to think of anything too painful.

“Tasty little snacks! I really like the little blue ones the most!” Pinchie said happily, pointing off to our right. Towards the ocean.

Little fish and stuff then.

“And what do you do when humans see you?” I asked.

“Huh…? Aren’t you human? I do what I did now! Panic and hide!” Pinchie said. The crab lowered to the ground, and crossed its arms and claws. As if to make itself as small as possible. Surprisingly it did so rather well.

“Have you met many?” I asked.

“A couple! Most on boats! I leave them alone… just like I do the bigger fish and stuff,” Pinchie said, sounding depressed again. The crab then pointed at itself, thumping its armored body with a heavy claw. “Tiny. Small. Weak. Stupid,” Pinchie described itself. The way it said those descriptors was rather telling, too. They had been words not decided on his own, but ones he had heard said by someone else.

Those where undoubtedly what their creator had called them. I too knew the tone gods used during such moments. And I knew very well how much it hurt the soul to hear them said. To them, to monarchs, gods were more than parents. They were their purpose. So when they heard them speak down to them in such a way… it hurt. Enough so that I had seen many monarchs kill themselves because of such neglect and abuse. They hadn’t been able to take it.

In a way hearing it had treated this tiny creature so only further confirmed it was the truth. Only a god could be so cruel to its own creation.

I nodded gently at Pinchie. “Humans are big, huh,” I said, making sure not to linger on what made it sad.

“Very!”

I sighed a little, and licked some of my new teeth that were growing. They felt odd, and made me want to break and rip out all the rest now so that they’d all be new together. Maybe I should.

My heart weighed scales as Pinchie stepped away a bit, as to grab at a little sea-louse that had been crawling along the rocks. Pinchie promptly ate it, then went to grab some more nearby.

It was a monarch.

A newly born one, yes. Weak. Small. Pitiful… abandoned by its creator for not being good enough.

I didn’t doubt its words. At all. Nor did I doubt its intentions. It very likely did plan on just finding a home, as to spend time growing.

But what I did doubt was its future.

Right now it was harmless. But it wouldn’t be in time. If it did get lucky and survive long enough to grow big… it’d not be long until it was a terror of the deep. Something that plagued the people that lived on this sea, or subsisted upon it. Even if it never grew too big, it was still a monarch. It’d only need to grow to the size of say… an average man, to be strong enough to kill any person and sink nearly any ship. Not to say the least of any abilities it would undoubtedly gain. Its heart wasn’t just big enough, but it was pure enough… and… And that was nothing to say the least of its creator.

At any point the god who made Pinchie could give it orders. Or endow it with more powers. And once that happened… I didn’t even need to think very long to imagine the hundreds of terrible outcomes that could follow such scenarios.

But all of those possibilities were simple hypotheticals. There was no true guarantee it’d grow bigger. No honest proof it’d become great and almighty. It might grow to be a very large crab, bigger than any natural one, but at the same time simply always live in the sea… never bothering anyone or anything.

Pinchie hurried to catch another sea-louse. The monarch almost slipped and fell in haste, but caught it.

While watching it eat… I debated.

On one side of the scale… I placed the creature’s life.

On the other… I placed all I believed in.

“Tasty!” Pinchie happily said as it ate another little bug. This time it had been some kind of spider looking thing.

Right now it was harmless.

But in the future… maybe only months or years from now… it’d be a true monarch.

I could kill it to potentially save lives.

Or I could spare it, and bet on it never becoming a threat.

I could kill it, take its heart, and possibly track down its creator with it.

Or I could leave it alive… and use it as bait, as to do the same thing.

Yet, if I did kill it… the god who birthed it would know. That might make them come search me out, and depending on when and how that happened… That might only get more people harmed than I was willing to let happen. What if the god attacked me while I was in the middle of a city? At a Society location? In bed with Renn?

But… there was no saying the god didn’t already know where I was. After all I’d likely been circling around them for some time now. There was no doubt in my mind that the one who had created Pinchie had also created the monarch that had started those fires. The ones that Elaine had prophesied and I had ran around in.

If they had been that nearby all this time, there was little doubt they already knew of me.

So…

“Here! Here!”

I blinked as Pinchie hurried over. A claw was held out, and in the pincer was a very large bug. One half squirming, but not able to do much else.

Gently holding out my hand, I allowed the monarch to place the bug into my hand. I closed it before the bug could scamper off, and escape. The thing wiggled wildly inside my hand for a moment, until I crushed it.

“Thank you,” I said gently, and went ahead and ate the small bug. I barely tasted it.

“Tasty, huh!”

I nodded as Pinchie went to gather up more.

I didn’t want to spare it.

I didn’t believe I should.

Not just because it could grow into a terrible calamity… but because of its meaning. Its purpose.

Right now the god that had made it had abandoned it.

But that god was still alive. Which meant anything could happen. Anything at all.

The variables were too big. Too dangerous. Too… divine.

Yet…

Mother would spare it.

The teacher she taught me to be would… but the general she made me into wouldn’t have.

Father wouldn’t spare it.

The philosopher he tried to make me would have, though.

Rennalee would spare it.

The husband she so cherished would spare it too.

The warlord I had become to would resort to even torturing the thing to get the god that created it.

The fool who had made his mistake would hesitate, and likely make the wrong choice.

The Society’s Protector…?

“Another!” Pinchie hurried back over to me, with two bugs this time.

I only took one, as to let it eat the other. I knew monarchs, unlike myself, needed actual sustenance. Especially one as… small and weak as this one. Especially a newborn. Odds are it needed to it several times its own weight per day.

Pinchie ate the bug with gusto. The tiny crab made bubbly sounds as it ate, making me wonder if its ability somehow related to those bubbles. Crabs did bubble, but did they do it as often as this one was doing?

Blinking heavy eyes, I faced a fact I had been trying to not confront.

Did I not plan to step down as protector? Did that not mean I’d no longer act as him? No longer bound by those rules? If I did that… wouldn’t I return to being me? Bound by only my own rules, no one else’s? Did that mean I should… return to who I had once been…?

Who even was that, exactly?

The warrior? The general? The coward who ran to those islands? The one who had spared Miss Beak, or the one who had slaughtered hundreds just like her?

If not them, did I become someone new? Something else entirely? Renn has softened me, but has she changed me to that big of a degree already? A part of me hoped so, but I knew better than to believe it. I was too set in my ways. Too… old.

Why did it have to be so tiny and friendly? Why couldn’t it have been something cruel? Like Landi’s monarch had been?

“Ah…!” Pinchie saw another bug. This time some kind of isopod. It tried to roll up in a ball as the crab grabbed at it.

Some light rain started to fall, which both I and Pinchie ignored as I watched the monarch eat. If not for the little noises it made, the words it said occasionally, and the way it danced happily in joy at the tasty things it was eating… you’d never know how special it really was.

Watching the little crab snack on the small insects was… soothing. If my internal discord could be soothed, that is.

I had to be careful. Returning to the man I had been, so long ago, would be easy for me. Especially now that my old enemies were back. It was after all the real me. The man I had been raised to be. The man who had succeeded. That man had rid the world of their chaos and freed the world from their torment… Even Miss Beak, for all the faults she had found in me throughout the years, had not hesitated to say I had been exactly who the world had needed back then.

Yet… I knew better than to think it was fine for me to return to being him.

That man had made a terrible mistake. And I refused to do that again. No matter what happened.

Because if I did that again… here and now…

I’d lose more than this strange peace I’ve nurtured all these years. I’d lose the Society and all the headaches it held. I’d lose the friends I’ve made. The purpose I had. The woman I’ve come to love… I’d lose it all. This place in this world, my place, would be lost forever. Taken by my own hands.

So…

Clenching my fist, I made my choice.

“Stand Tall, Vim…” I whispered.

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