Strongest Incubus System

Maelor-Serik arrived in the Valley two days later.

Varos didn’t come with him.

Damon noticed that before the Transfer had even finished opening. On the other side stood only Maelor-Serik, wearing the same simple clothes as during their last conversation and holding a small bag in one hand. No uniform, no visible weapon, and no Order agents waiting behind him. Aria remained near the Transfer structure only to ensure the passage remained stable, while Damon watched Maelor step through and stop as soon as his feet touched the Valley’s soil.

The effect was immediate.

Not on his body.

On Eir.

The forest grew quiet in a way Damon had already learned to recognize. Not an absence of life, but attention. Leaves still moved in the wind, small animals remained hidden among the trees, and water flowed somewhere farther away, yet the roots near the passage ceased all movement.

Maelor-Serik noticed.

”She’s watching me.”

”Yes.”

”Should that worry me?”

Damon thought for a moment.

”Not more than usual.”

”That’s not reassuring.”

”It wasn’t meant to be.”

The passage closed.

Maelor glanced behind him.

There was no immediate way back now.

Damon had made it clear that he could ask to leave whenever he wanted and that Eir would allow it. Even so, stepping through a passage into the territory of an ancient entity who had known the first bearer of what now existed inside his head required a particular kind of trust.

Or recklessness.

Damon still hadn’t decided which.

”Did you bring food?” Liora asked.

Maelor-Serik turned.

She was sitting on a root a few meters away, with Neria beside her. Neria had a wooden sword resting across her legs and appeared to be making a considerable effort not to laugh.

Maelor took a second.

”I did.”

Liora immediately stood up.

Damon closed his eyes.

”He actually brought some.”

”You said I should ask,” Liora replied.

”I said that wasn’t the priority.”

”Doesn’t mean I didn’t ask afterward.”

Maelor opened the small bag and took out a wrapped package.

”Varos recommended it.”

Damon looked at him.

”Varos is cooperating with this now?”

”He said entering this place without bringing something for Liora would be a poor tactical decision.”

Neria began laughing.

Even Damon had to admit it.

”He’s learning.”

Liora took the package and walked away, satisfied.

The tension eased a little.

Perhaps that was why Varos had suggested it.

Or perhaps he simply knew Liora.

Maelor-Serik looked at Neria next.

Her smile disappeared, but not out of fear.

The two observed each other.

There were a hundred and seventeen years of Vermillion between them, even though Maelor had carried Serik for only thirty-two.

He was the first to speak.

”Neria.”

”Maelor-Serik.”

Neither attempted to turn it into a reunion.

Neria knew perfectly well that he wasn’t responsible for everything that had happened before he assumed the protocol.

She also knew that he had participated in a system that continued keeping her imprisoned.

Both things could be true.

Maelor lowered his head slightly.

”I didn’t come to ask for forgiveness.”

”Good.”

Damon looked from one to the other.

Direct.

Better that way.

Neria continued:

”If you ever ask, do it because you know what you’re asking forgiveness for.”

Maelor accepted that without trying to respond too quickly.

”Understood.”

Neria stood, picked up her sword, and looked at Damon.

”I’m going to continue training.”

”You don’t have to leave.”

”I know.”

That mattered too.

She wasn’t being removed from a difficult conversation.

She was choosing not to participate.

Jian Yue was waiting farther ahead in the clearing. Neria went to her, and a few seconds later, the dry sound of wood striking wood began echoing irregularly.

Maelor followed her with his eyes.

”She’s learning swordsmanship.”

”By choice,” Damon replied.

Maelor looked at him.

”You emphasized that.”

”Yes.”

He understood.

Then Eir’s voice emerged.

”Maelor.”

The man stopped completely.

Damon watched.

There was no visible fear on his face, but there was a change too subtle for someone who wasn’t paying attention. His shoulders stiffened. His breathing stopped for half a second.

Eir continued:

”Serik.”

Maelor closed his eyes.

”Both.”

”Yes.”

Several roots rose from the ground in front of him.

They didn’t touch him.

Maelor looked at them.

Eir asked:

”May I?”

Damon saw his reaction.

It wasn’t to the root.

It was to the question.

Maelor took a moment.

”For what?”

”To feel.”

”My body?”

”Surface. Pulse. Changes.”

”Without altering anything.”

”Without altering.”

”Without restoring.”

”No.”

”Without searching memories.”

Eir fell silent for a moment.

”I don’t know how to do that.”

Maelor nodded.

”Then no.”

The roots immediately withdrew.

Maelor continued looking at the place where they had been.

Damon said nothing.

Neither did Eir.

After a few seconds, Maelor slowly exhaled.

”Thank you.”

”Yes.”

The conversation could have ended there and the trip would still have been worthwhile.

But Maelor walked toward a broad root and sat down.

Damon remained standing for a while before choosing another root a little farther away.

”You knew Vaelor,” Maelor said.

”Yes.”

”How well?”

Eir took a moment.

”Before Serik.”

”I know.”

”He was dying.”

”I know that too.”

”Afraid.”

Maelor looked at the ground.

”That’s not in the records.”

”He didn’t write everything.”

”Naturally.”

Eir continued:

”Wanted to continue.”

”That’s why he tried to preserve the capacity for change.”

”Yes.”

”That’s why he refused to wait.”

”Yes.”

Maelor fell silent.

Damon realized that this part wasn’t new in terms of information. He already knew what Vaelor had done. What was different was hearing it from someone who had been there.

”Do you think he was wrong?” Maelor asked.

”Yes.”

The answer came without hesitation.

Maelor raised his eyes.

”About everything?”

”No.”

Eir took a few seconds to organize her thoughts.

”Wanting to live wasn’t wrong. Wanting to change wasn’t wrong. Being afraid wasn’t wrong.”

The roots moved slowly beneath the earth.

”Deciding for others was wrong.”

Maelor didn’t respond.

Damon almost smiled.

Eir really was getting good at this.

”He believed he didn’t have time,” Maelor said.

”He didn’t.”

”Then perhaps there was no good option for him.”

”No.”

Maelor frowned.

”You agree?”

”Yes.”

”And yet you believe he made the wrong choice.”

”Yes.”

Another pause.

”That sounds contradictory.”

”No.”

Damon spoke for the first time in several minutes.

”Welcome.”

Maelor gave him a look.

Damon shrugged.

”You asked for someone old enough to have witnessed this.”

Eir continued:

”Having no good choice doesn’t make a bad choice good.”

Maelor froze.

So did Damon.

That was clearer than he had expected.

Maelor rested his forearms on his knees.

”And Maerin?”

”She had time.”

”That’s why she succeeded.”

”No.”

Maelor raised his head.

Eir replied:

”That’s why she could try.”

A small difference.

An important one.

”Some tried and died,” Eir continued. ”Some changed a little. Some changed a lot. Some stopped.”

”Maerin continued.”

”Yes.”

”Why?”

”Wanted to.”

”That doesn’t explain how.”

”No.”

Maelor let out a small, humorless laugh.

”Everyone is getting very good at not giving me answers.”

Damon smiled.

”It’s contagious.”

Eir asked:

”You want answer?”

Maelor took a moment.

”I do.”

”Which?”

He remained silent long enough for the sound of wooden swords in the distance to become more noticeable.

Neria made a mistake.

Jian Yue corrected her.

They started again.

Finally, Maelor spoke:

”I want to know who I am when Serik ends.”

Eir replied:

”Don’t know.”

Maelor closed his eyes.

He didn’t seem disappointed.

Perhaps because he had expected it.

Eir continued:

”You don’t either.”

”No.”

”Then not finished.”

Maelor opened his eyes.

”What?”

”Question.”

He remained silent.

”As long as you question, you continue.”

Maelor looked at Damon.

”Does she always talk like that?”

”Unfortunately.”

”I can hear,” Eir replied.

”I know.”

For a few seconds, there was something almost normal about that conversation.

Then Maelor asked:

”Have you ever seen someone completely lose their definition of themselves?”

”Yes.”

”And survive?”

”Yes.”

”Well?”

Eir took longer this time.

”Some.”

”Others didn’t.”

”No.”

”What made the difference?”

”Don’t know.”

Maelor took a deep breath through his nose.

Damon noticed the frustration.

Not desperate.

Human.

Maelor had spent decades inside a protocol built around classification, prediction, and the reduction of variation. Asking someone with centuries of experience a question and repeatedly receiving ”I don’t know” was probably almost offensive to the mental structure that had shaped him.

”You didn’t notice a pattern?” he asked.

”Saw many.”

”Which?”

”Time. People. Food. Safety. Work. Pain. Choices. Accidents.”

Maelor waited.

”That’s not a pattern.”

”That’s life.”

Damon began laughing before he could stop himself.

Maelor looked at him.

”Sorry.”

”You don’t seem sorry.”

”Not very.”

Eir continued:

”Some needed new name. Some kept old. Some used two.”

Maelor became attentive.

”Two?”

”Yes.”

”Like me.”

”Maybe.”

”Did it work?”

”For a while.”

”And afterward?”

”One chose one name. Another kept two. One stopped using either for many years.”

Maelor now seemed genuinely interested.

”Why?”

”Don’t know.”

He ran a hand over his face.

”This time you know and you’re doing it on purpose.”

”No.”

Damon had to turn his face away to hide his smile.

Maelor noticed anyway.

”This amuses you.”

”A little.”

”Why?”

”Because you came looking for historical examples and discovered that ancient people were improvising too.”

Maelor fell silent.

Then smiled.

Very slightly.

But genuinely.

”That’s irritating.”

”Yes.”

”Perhaps useful.”

”That too.”

Maelor returned his gaze to the great trunk.

”If I asked you to show me Maelor as he was before Serik?”

”Can show parts.”

”Memories?”

”Body’s condition. Things I remember.”

”Would you?”

Eir took a moment.

”If you want.”

Damon became attentive but didn’t interfere.

Maelor also remained silent.

The decision took almost a minute.

”Not today.”

”Yes.”

No insistence.

No questions about why.

Maelor exhaled.

”Perhaps never.”

”Yes.”

”You really have changed.”

The forest became still.

Eir replied:

”Yes.”

Damon noticed that this affected Maelor differently.

Perhaps because Eir hadn’t said she had improved.

Only that she had changed.

Without turning her current state into a correct version destined to replace the previous one.

Maelor looked at his own hands.

”I don’t know if I want to stop being Serik.”

Damon didn’t speak.

Neither did Eir.

”For weeks, I thought that meant the protocol had won.”

Eir replied:

”Why?”

”Because I should want to be Maelor.”

”Who said?”

Maelor let out a short laugh.

”I did.”

”Then you can say something else.”

He froze.

Simple.

Almost absurdly simple.

”I can.”

”Yes.”

The conversation continued for more than an hour.

Without grand revelations.

Maelor asked about people Eir had known.

About those who had accepted restoration and regretted it.

About those who had refused.

About those who had changed their minds years later.

Eir answered when she knew.

She said ”I don’t know” when she didn’t.

She said ”I don’t remember” twice.

The first time, Maelor seemed surprised.

The second, he accepted it.

When he finally stood, he looked tired.

Not transformed.

Just tired.

”I want to go back.”

”Now?” Damon asked.

”Yes.”

Eir spoke:

”You can.”

Maelor looked at the great trunk.

”Thank you.”

”Come back if you want.”

He stood still.

”Is that an invitation?”

”Yes.”

”Without obligation.”

”Yes.”

Maelor nodded.

Damon began walking with him back toward the Transfer area.

On the way, they passed the training clearing.

Neria was resting while Jian Yue corrected something about the position of her sword.

Maelor slowed his steps.

Neria noticed.

The two looked at each other again.

This time, Maelor was the one who spoke.

”You look well.”

Neria thought before answering.

”I’m getting there.”

He nodded.

”Good.”

She looked at him.

”And you?”

Maelor-Serik took a moment.

Then replied:

”Me too.”

Neria smiled.

Nothing more was needed.

When the Transfer opened, Maelor stopped before stepping through.

”Damon.”

”Yes?”

”You were right.”

”That happens a lot.”

”Don’t ruin it.”

Damon smiled.

”About what?”

”Perhaps I already knew half the answer.”

”Did you find the other half?”

Maelor briefly looked toward the forest behind them.

”No.”

Damon nodded.

”Then it seems to have worked.”

Maelor almost laughed.

He stepped through.

The passage closed.

Damon stood watching for a few seconds.

Eir spoke from a distance:

”He’ll come back.”

”Maybe.”

”Yes.”

Damon looked toward the great trunk.

”Do you know something?”

”No.”

”Then why did you say that?”

”Want to.”

Damon fell silent.

Then smiled.

”Fair enough.”

Nearby, he heard Neria say:

”Again.”

Jian Yue replied with something he couldn’t understand.

Wood struck wood.

Damon remained there for a few more seconds before heading back.

Maelor-Serik still didn’t know who he would become.

Neria still didn’t know where she would go next.

Damon still didn’t know what the three connections in his body would do in the future.

Eir was still learning how to love people without holding on to them.

None of them had a complete answer.

Curiously, that no longer seemed like a problem that needed to be solved.