08: An Old Dog's New Trick

Destroyed outpost, Fierre Lakes, The Old World

It had been some time since the incident with the Overseers of Solace, where almost all life had been destroyed on the Old World specifically to combat the Sleepers of Avarrach. One of the few survivors, a quite defiant old Hermit who proved himself too stubborn to die, was recovering and stealthily keeping an eye on an angel that had been here since that day. Originally, the Hermit had suspected the worst of her, but with each passing day, she showed an active interest in trying to cultivate flora back to the wasteland. It wasn’t much, but there was some grass slowly spreading around her, followed along by young trees and bushes. She wasn’t blessed with any specific magic for her apparent quest, but did nonetheless possess a bit of a green thumb.

It was a quiet warm day, if the plants and trees were still present, one might even describe it as tropical. The air began to pick up a small gust, and as the wind grew stronger, the air felt energised, until a rift opened up at the base camp, and three people stepped through with the rift closing behind them shortly after. The Hermit recognised Agent Coyle immediately. Despite having never interacted with him directly, the old man was not fond of the Agent, which was in a way the standard attitude he’d held to outsiders. The third being that accompanied them was much less human. As if he was a shadowed reflection of someone who isn’t actually there. The Hermit focused his magic on his camouflage and moved in closer to listen in.

Agent Coyle spoke up and greeted the angel, “Sorry we’re late Agent, finding the perfect person for the job was difficult, but as you can see, I did bring company.” Agent Coyle gestured toward the man in an odd tribal outfit and stylish fur coat of a creature the Hermit failed to recognise. His genuine smile almost stood out more than his interesting attire. “Agent Cheryl, meet Agent Kael. shaman healer, Brewmaster, and one of my new favorite people in the Omniverse.”

Agent Kael dropped the bags he was carrying and opened his arms for a hug, which Cheryl seemed a little hesitant to accept at first. “It’s lovely to meet you. Coyle spoke highly of you on the way here.” Cheryl’s mood seems to change, as she actively hugged Kael back, ending their embrace with a smile.

“That’s good to hear. Sorry I haven’t been able to get much done. There’s no active threats, and there’s been very few living things left, so cultivating anything has been, well, a challenge to say the least.”

Coyle held his hand up to his mouth and cleared his throat, “Ak-hmm- Don’t worry, that’s why we have him. Wanna take it from here?” Kael nodded at Coyle before rummaging through his bags for some time, drinking a vial of something before continuing to rummage, he pulled out a short staff that grew as he pulled it out.

Kael held the staff behind him as he raised a hand to the sky. Just overhead, a green glyph appeared, rotating and letting a subtle rain of energy fall onto the ground below. A rumbling began, and large wooden protrusions rose from the ground in a circle in front of the group, before growing into trees that shaped and grew into each other, creating a nature bound hut. “Well, we’ve got somewhere to sleep now.” Remarks Kael with a grin.

“Fantastic”, replied Coyle, a clear rasp in his throat, “I’ve gotta go, but I’ll AGHM… I’ll leave you both to it.” Agent Coyle coughed into one of his hands, waving the other in a circle. The man behind Coyle cloaked in red shadow energy stepped forward, holding his hand out in front of him. Coyle placed his hand on the being’s shoulder, and the air grows energetic and tense once more as the air wisped around the two of them. The sparks gave way to a rift, and they stepped through. The rifts energy dissipated and dissolved, closing behind both Coyle and the mysterious shadow man.

“More Agents, great.” the Hermit murmured to himself. He had his concerns about what they were going to do now that they had apparently set up camp. And now that they seemingly could control and make rifts, the idea of more people showing up wasn’t one that the old Hermit was fond of. The Hermit gently moved forward to get closer once more.

“I’m going to set up my stuff in a moment, but first, did you want to try out the idea? I mean, I don’t know much about how this is supposed to work, but I mean… we can try, right?” Kael dusted his hands together, keen to get started.

“I’ll feed you what you need, and you work on the vessel. Just be careful, alright? It’s not like we’ve done this before...” Kael nodded to Cheryl in agreement. Kael went through his backpack and grabbed another vial, taking a short swig before pouring the rest on the ground, letting off a light sizzle as it fell on the grass.

Agent Cheryl placed her hand on the back of Kael’s head as he kneeled to the grass. Kael’s hands reached out to just above the grass, and a glyph slowly formed. The grass began growing over, taking shape, twisting and weaving, and over time it began to solidify and take shape. The shape of a fox, seemingly. The grass separated from the fox birthed from the earth, and only a few vines remained connected to the fox. “Okay, now what?” Kael’s breath was strained, his body noticeably burdened by the magic coursing through him.

“I… I’m trying…” Cheryl struggled, her hand glowing a bright white now. Kael held his hands out to the fox’s body, still laying lifeless. After some time passes, Cheryl drops her hand from Kael’s head, letting out a sigh. The lifeless fox before them crumbled away into dirt. “I’m sorry, I- I don’t know what happened.”

The Hermit scoffed under his breath as the two looked confused at the small mound of dirt. “Do you think that old guy might be able to help us?” The old Hermit audibly panicked having found out that he had been discovered so easily.

“Oh, you can see him too?” asked Cheryl. Disappointed his stealth was apparently nowhere near as covert as he’d originally expected, the Hermit dropped his magic. “He’s been watching me for weeks, and hasn’t really done anything, I thought he was just being creepy.”

The Hermit ignored Cheryl’s comment, and adjusted himself on his staff. “I have no idea what you’re doing, but you’re clearly doing it wrong.” Kael nodded and shrugged, begrudgingly agreeing. “If you could please fill me in on what exactly you’re trying to do, I can be more specific as to how you’re failing.”

Agent Kael laughed briefly to himself before heading back to their bags. He pulled out a glass bottle with no label, and an unknown liquid inside, and threw it to the Hermit, who only just managed to catch it successfully. “Drink this, and we’ll talk.”

Cheryl tugged at Kael’s coat, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Coyle doesn’t know who we can trust.”

Kael smiled back at Cheryl, “Don’t worry bro, that’s where I come in.”


The Hermit almost felt claustrophobic as he sat in the small makeshift hut, resting on furniture made from petrified vines that felt hard, yet oddly comfortable. They had talked about strange and random things, such as Kael’s home world, and how Cheryl and Coyle had originally met. Once the Hermit seemed comfortable enough, and Kael’s brew had the chance to work it’s magic, Cheryl and Kael briefed him on their plan.

The Hermit finished off his brew before interrupting Kael, “Wait wait wait, so… you just wanted to bring everything back to life? You make a body, and Cheryl tries to channel their spirits into them?”

“Yeah, it’s kind of a smart plan if you ask me.” Kael smiled to himself. 

“It’s a dumb plan, neither of you know how the Warpath work. Yes, the angels killed them all, but without word or guidance from their prophet, they’re not going to be moving.”

Cheryl furrowed an eyebrow not entirely pleased at being roped in with Sol’s forces, “But… wasn’t Prophet Karani tricked into letting the overseers into the old world in the first place? That’s a lot of faith they have for someone who may have inadvertently caused their demise.”

The Hermit shook his head. “The prophet isn’t a person, it’s a position, one passed down between the generations. A magic that chooses a host seemingly at random. They aren’t in charge of the tribe, but they’re the spiritual guardian. Of those who came before, and those that still live. The Warpath’s existence, both future and past, is said to be tied to the Prophet, whoever they may be. The voice of the prophet is the only one that the dead hear and trust.”

Kael raised a finger. “Oh… uhhh, can we put on an accent? Like, is there a way we can make them think we are the prophet?”

“Pfft, please…” The old man kicked back comfortably in his chair, “After years of communicating with the spirit world, the Warpath barely trust me. That’s after years of experiencing my spirit in its purest form. The Prophet is generally the only one that communicates like that, so if anyone who isn’t the prophet is doing so, regardless of their intention, or who they even are, it doesn’t matter. You’re not going to trick them.”

Cheryl looked a little defeated. “We can’t trick them, and calling them doesn’t work, now what?”

“OH” Kael stood up quickly, “I’ve got it! After the big lazer thing that happened, everyone died, that would have been almost instant. They won’t know how they died, they probably won’t even know why.”

“Why would that matter?” asked Cheryl

“If the Prophet magic looks for a host, then with the Warpath wiped out, it has nowhere to go. So, what if we tell the Warpath what happened, and ask them to come back so we can find the new Prophet, yeah?” the Hermit looked down in contemplation “So like, the history of the warpath and the future, if there’s no prophet to guide them, they’d be getting lonely, and knowing their ancestral line has ended has gotta be sad, right?”

“Your reasoning isn’t really aligned, but the core idea… I want to think on that for a bit.” The Hermit stood up from his chair, and slowly headed out. “I’ll be back soon, just wait here for a bit.” Kael smiled and nodded as the Hermit took his leave. Cheryl looked over at Kael, somewhat confused. 

“So, what was that about?” she asked.

“I’ve known people like that. They’re proud, and self-sufficient. If we pointed him too hard in the right direction, he’d have considered other options. But now that he thinks this is his idea, he’ll pursue it with everything he has. Just sit tight, and we’ll see what happens.” Cheryl gave Kael somewhat of a disapproving look, but with no better ideas or options, decided to get comfortable in her chair.


There was a knock on the trees by the entrance, as the old Hermit returned. Kael, still sitting, raised his arms in greeting, “Heeyyy bro, what’s happening?”

The Hermit tapped his staff to the floor. “Do your ritual thing again.” Kael and Cheryl looked up to each other, and got out of their chairs to head out, Kael grabbing another vial from his bags. 

Kael drank and poured, while Cheryl placed her hand on the back of his head, this time the Hermit stood behind them. The grass shook, grew and gestated the same as it had before. The grass took shape, and when it peeled away, a fox lay before them, and Cheryl’s hand glowed. The Hermit closed his eyes, and tapped his staff to the ground. Color flourished, and the roots around the fox glowed, and it’s eyes shot open. The fox took a deep breath, the first of it’s new life, and panted somewhat frantically. “Shh shhh, heyy…. Little bro.” Kael gently placed his hand on the Fox’s neck, doing his best to calm the beast.

“You… did it...I mean, whatever you did, you did it.” Cheryl Laughed “You did it!” Cheryl jumped in excitement. The fox spasmed just slightly in panic, before Kael shushed and calmed it down once more. Cheryl tempered her reaction, “Sorry.”

“You won’t be able to bring them all back.” stated the Hermit. Kael and Cheryl looked up, confused. “A large majority of those that passed weren’t convinced, and without the voice of the prophet to guide them, a lot of spirits don’t really want to act unless they know it’s from the Prophet. I gave them the news, and told them that as members of the Warpath, it’s their duty to help rebuild, so that the Prophet may one day be found again, and some have heeded the call. It’ll be enough to help form the Warpath again, but it will be nowhere near as strong and far reaching as they once were for quite a long time.”

Kael pet the fox once more, before nodding to it. The fox slowly got up, and took it’s first wobbly steps. Kael stood to his feet and turned to the Hermit. “If we get even one percent of the Warpath back, then we can restore this world to its former glory. Seriously, you did amazing my man. Come here!” Kael held his arms open and approached the Hermit. The Hermit jabbed his staff directly at Kael’s forehead with an audible thunk, shocking Kael who stumbled to the floor.

“If you touch me, I will end you.” The Hermit glared at Kael.

“You know what, I can respect that.” Kael rose to his feet, dusting off his coat. “What’s your name, man?”

“I don’t have a name. People have called me things such as the Defiant Hermit, or the Old Man of the Woods, but I don’t hold any affinity to these names.” The Hermit looked off in the distance, seeing the fox now bounding with energy running around a small brush Cheryl had cultivated.

“Well, no problem. Hermit, can I call you Hermy?”

The Hermit’s glare returned squarely on Kael, “No you may not.”

“Awwh, but I-”

The Hermit quickly interrupted Kael, “I swear to the high spirits above if the name Hermy catches on, I’ll be throwing you into a volcano myself.”

Cheryl laughed at the men bickering. Kael let out a smile himself as he responded, “Alright, given the elixir is likely still active, I believe you.”

“What elixir?” the Hermit’s eyebrow raised.

“Oh, nothing.” responded Kael with a grin.


Story by JasonOCE

Art by Nick @459208185Nick

Elphie "Agent Coyle"