The airship was sailing through a valley. It was green and covered in life. Ancient statues rose up out of the jungle, long abandoned and overtaken by life. A large waterfall lept off a nearby cliff, falling into a massive lake, raining up mist and water. The verdant trees swayed slowly in the wind. Colin stared at one of the fallen statues, thinking about what he had heard before:
"Reality solves itself."
"What were the statues?" He turned to ask The Wanderer, who was instead engrossed in another book. Colin sighed. "So, you've seen a lot, right? You have any interesting stories from afar?"
The Wanderer didn't look up from their book. "I have."
"Can you tell me one? To pass the time?"
"Ok. I learned this one from an island people. It tells a story about the moon, sun, and ocean. The moon wanted to be on earth with her lover, the ocean. But the gods disapproved and sent her into the sky. There, the sun endlessly chased her, trying to be with her. But the moon was repulsed by him, and flew around and around the planet. Every once in a while, the sun reaches the moon, only to be pushed away from her again."
"What did the Collector mean? He said something about how you two meeting was wrong, that it changed reality."
"Everything changes reality." The Wanderer closed the book and made their way to the helm of the ship. "It's that the Collector and I both hold more power to change it than most. There's a reason you can't see my face. The Collector collects stories, I collect experiences. It's not quite as simple as that, but I think it's easier to explain it like that."
"Collect experiences? How?"
"I do things? No matter. We're here." The airship stopped in front of a statue veiled in greenery. The Wanderer walked onto the deck and climbed over the railing. Colin stared on in confused shock.
"What are you doing? You could die!"
"Anyone can die. That being said, you'll be fine." The Wanderer jumped through the vines and disappeared. A second later, their head popped out. "Just jump in! You'll be fine! I'll catch you."
Colin climbed onto the railings. He sighed, then jumped through the vines. It was completely dark, the numerous vines obscuring the bright morning sun outside.
"Hold on, let me light this up." The Wanderer's voice filled the dark. In a moment, purple flowers began to open, casting blue light into the room. Colin jumped at the developing figure of The Wanderer.
"That you?" Colin asked the figure.
"Yes, now come on." The shape of The Wanderer turned its back to him and walked further down the hall. "Watch your feet." While there was enough light to discern shapes and figures, it was not enough for Colin to almost fall, missing a step-down. "Like I said; Watch your feet." They walked for what seemed like hours. As they walked, Colin began to notice the stairway getting brighter.
"Is it getting brighter?" He asked The Wanderer.
"No, that's just your eyes getting used to the dark."
"Oh." They walked for a while more, until The Wanderer spoke again.
"We're here." This room was covered with more open flowers, illuminating glass coffins lined against the walls. Colin walked over to one and examined the contents. It was a strange creature, reptilian. Horns pointed above its eyes, which were sunk back into the skull. It had a long, almost proboscis-like mouth, open and lined with millions of small razor-sharp teeth. It was standing on two legs, though its body was situated to walk on both two and four legs. A long tongue was hidden deep in its maw. It was dressed in loose, thin rags, most likely more elaborate when it was first entombed. Colin looked back, imagining the many other creatures like this trapped in the coffins. He walked to an altar in the center of the room, where The Wanderer stood.
"What is this place?" Colin turned, trying to look around the darkened tomb.
"A tomb. That's what those statues are. Tombs. Thousands of them. Each one contains the dead of a forgotten generation." The Wanderer examined the altar and fiddled with it.
"What happened to them?"
"Well, I imagine they were a desert people. Scales to protect against bugs like flies and other bugs, a long mouth to root through the sand for buried bugs, and a long tongue to catch flies out of the air. But that's just my assessment. Unfortunately, they didn't leave any records of their people."
Colin looked at the corpse again. "But what if they were just jungle people, and a great catastrophe destroyed them all, or sent them back into the jungle away from cities?"
"Could be, but they don't exactly have thumbs." It was true. Each hand had five digits, but no thumbs.
"Then how did they build, or carve, all of this?"
"No idea. I've traveled the realms and learned a lot, but I haven't learned everything."
The phrase reminded Colin again of Sevron's words.
"Why. Why are we doing this? Why are tracking the ripples?" Colin began to pace. The Wanderer looked up from the altar.
"Because we need to find out? We need to find out what caused this?"
"Why? Can't we just leave it there? Can't we not meddle with reality?" The Wanderer watched. "Can't we just let reality solve itself out? Why are we even here? We know what caused this! It was a warrior leaving home, and a murderer becoming a reader, right?! We know! I-" He collapsed, kneeling in front of the coffin, crying. The Wanderer walked over and squatted down to Colin.
"I think I dragged this on too long. Maybe things should just be left alone. I think I wanted a travel partner." The Wanderer stared off into the middle distance. Then they turned to Colin and placed a hand on his shoulder. "If I may ask, how did you die?"
"Exposure. I was pushed out of my house during a storm. I fell asleep, soaked to the bone and cold as ice. I thought I fell asleep, but I guess something in me just died." He paused. "But I didn't."
"But you didn't." The Wanderer stood. "Here. I have a gift for you." They offered their hand to Colin, who took it. They both walked to the open altar. Inside, two glowing blue pistols sat. they were beautiful, the blue shimmering and pulsing like a soul was imbued inside. Chains looped around the barrel, small metal talismans hung on them.
"I-They're beautiful." Colin wiped away his tears. The Wanderer tenderly picked up one of the guns. They offered it to Colin, who took it. "What are they?" There was appreciation in his voice, mixed with awe.
"Developed by The Parcion. They shoot reality anchor bullets."
Colin looked up from the beautiful gun. "What's that? And who's The Parcion?"
"Oh. Well, a reality anchor is something that holds reality down. It's in the name really. Look at it this way; reality is a cloth. Sometimes the cloth blows around in the wind and can throw off the bugs who live on it. Because of this, sometimes the cloth has to be locked down with cinder bricks. That's what a reality anchor is."
"Oh. That makes sense."
"That being said, it's ok if not all of the worlds are completely nailed to the ground. Yggdrasil is a tree, it has to sway in the wind to survive. Unfortunately, there are those out there who want to nail every branch to the ground. They want to contain and destroy everything that doesn't make sense; every paracausal thing. That's what The Parcion is: an organization devoted to destroying or containing anything unusual."
"You're gonna need to explain what all those words mean, please."
"I will," The Wanderer closed the altar and made their way to the stairs, Colin following. "On the way back."
