Ravalor V

17.05.2026

I have to warn them.

Ravalor saw that Zenozarax understood, there was no vagueness in that sentence. Ravalor wasn't speaking of any convoluted proxy process of somehow contacting the Warrior to send them a maybe encoded or cryptic message that could withstand scrutiny by Mezchinhar's monitoring. He meant that he, this part, would do it.

Reconnect.

“Now? After all this happened?” Zenozarax was concerned, of course he was. If Ravalor had any clear thought left he probably would be too. But this was it.

Sharing this overwhelming amount of knowledge, even if ever so briefly with Sukatar had granted him a moment of clarity he had badly needed. Now it was twice as bad because he had her memories too, but for a moment there, he had been able to think.

He had achieved everything he had ever wanted. He had seen past the void, he understood what had happened, Funnix, Artlenburg, everything that had shaped his life to lead him exactly here. There was chaos in his mind now, but that was the price he had to pay. The whole of himself. And he would do it because he finally saw and understood that he had no other option left. He, the rest of himself, was in danger. There was no life for him left in Mezchinhar. He had to leave.

“There is no other way. I am not safe in Mezchinhar anymore and I never will be again,” he said to Zenozarax, struggling with every word. “And I can't… function like this.”

Everything was heavy. His body felt like lead.

His mind was racing,

Flooded with foreign memories and those of his own. He could barely think straight. He knew the memories were all there, but he couldn't focus on any of them anymore.

— Your body will be broken now… you need to share this burden…

That strange voice echoed in his mind.

He needed to return. Save himself. Get whole. Think.

Zenozarax was by his side. “Are you sure about this?”

He was, even when there was still a painful, near debilitating resistance in his mind. The wizard he had been had died the moment he had taken Quadirymir’s wrist. But that resistance within him still grieved for that wizard, for that life — even when there was little sense to it. He couldn't change it anymore. He had finally become the wizard he had set himself out to be, just not in the way he had envisioned it. So there was nothing left but to accept it. “I need to.”

“You’re exhausted, you need to rest.” Zenozarax' objection was reasonable as much as it was pointless. Ravalor understood it nevertheless. It wasn't just concern, even when that was undoubtedly a leading factor. But it was also fear in the face of catastrophic change. Zenozarax was, at his core, built to face those situations and react quickly and decisively — that he hesitated now, wanting to delay, spoke only to how much he cared, and how much these last two thousand years had really affected him. Doubting himself rather than to push headfirst into an action that could see Ravalor in danger.

“We have no time.” Then Ravalor added more quietly, “They don't.”

Zenozarax met his eyes for a long and heavy moment. Worry settled into determination, fear into the unshakable confidence of a wizard that had lived millions of years. And it was exactly that confidence that Ravalor now needed more than anything else. In that moment, he wished he could just grasp the other's hand — but the fear of what that amount of memories would do to either of them right now was sobering.

And yet it paled against the fear of what he would see.

“Alright,” Zenozarax finally said, “I won't try to stop you. If this is what you need to do, I’m with you,” he assured him. “But give yourself a few more minutes. Alright? Let’s talk this through because once you do this, you need to be ready to actually handle it. Carefully.”

Ravalor took a deep breath, listening to Zenozarax let the underlying turmoil within him subside, at least a little bit. Who would have thought Zenozarax would be the voice of reason to him one day. Now, with all he knew, it seemed even more outlandish.

But by lords, he clung to it like his life depended on it.

“You’re right.”

“Can you get up?”

Ravalor tried, raising up halfway, almost sitting up, before his mind stuttered again and next he had fallen back into the cushion. “No.” He mumbled, feeling a pang of shame. As if he hadn't already been broken enough.

A horrible fear rose in his core. He was blindly trusting the idea that the bodiless voice he didn't even know was real had suggested that getting whole would actually make this better. But what if it didn't? He would irreparably break the whole of himself. Right now he still had the option to make it all undone. But the idea of simply dying and forgetting all of this seemed ridiculous, arsenine even. Maybe before this he could have justified forgetting again, but not anymore. He needed to remember.

“Once you reconnect with them, you will most certainly suffer the worst reunification shock you ever experienced, but this time you can't just let it happen,” Zenozarax explained, woefully unaware of the existential worry kicked off within Ravalor. “If you now carry not only your own forgotten memories on top of all that has happened to you until now, including the knowledge of chaos and also that of Quadirymir and Sukatar, chances are good you're going to be disabled for a few minutes if not longer. Hell, we’re talking a lifetime amount of memories, thrice over. Depending on where they are, it may raise questions and suspicions. No matter how broken your mind feels in that moment, you can’t show it! Think about what you will say and help them through it! Especially any Part near others — they need to keep standing no matter what. If you collapse before other wizards, they will know.” Zenozarax shook his head slightly.

“It’s possible you can't prevent it from happening. No matter how much willpower you put into it. This is pretty much unprecedented. So if this happens, if anyone see’s, you need to leave even quicker. As soon as you can you need them all to leave. Don't have them come here directly, make two, three jumps—”

“No.” The Stargazer shook his head. “The ship isn't safe. I can’t leave them and I can't just take them.”

Zenozarax stared at him for a brief moment before understanding he was talking about the crew of the Northforce. Including Aeven VonTreva. He didn't seem happy with that revelation, but he switched his tune almost without missing a beat. Just adapting to the new facts.

“In that case, if anyone notices, you’ll have to lie like your life depends on it.” He shrugged halfheartedly, acknowledging that it was exactly like that.

Ravalor listened to the grim finality within every word. And within his expanded memories, it was exactly this finality that was suddenly so familiar which first scared him. Because he remembered how far Zenozarax would go once he was cornered — and one way or another, Ravalor was once more about to be a catalyst for it.

The neural pain flared up once more as he was aware of the gravity of some of the things he now remembered, ever new questions that arose from them, but he couldn't focus on those. Not now. Not until he was safe.

“What about Aeven then?”

The question seared like a molten hot stab through his mind. “What about him?’ he countered, trying to ignore the conflicting sparks of not yet aligned memories.

“Your Warrior is with him,” Zenozarax said like Ravalor could have forgotten about it. “You are a Chaos Wizard now. The one thing he’s sworn to destroy.”

Ravalor hesitated, tenderly trying to focus on the memories of his Warrior. Of the memories of the Aeven he had saved. Their friendship. The genuine trust. And then he only ever so slightly shook his head. “He won't turn on me.”

Zenozarax searched his face for any more than he said, and maybe he even found it. “You sound very certain of that. If you’re wrong—“

“I’m not. You know Aeven. You know he doesn't fight for a cause, he fights for the people he loves.” Ravalor made himself look back up. “And they have become close.” There really wasn't a better way of saying it.

“...?!” Zenozarax understood, then muttered, “Of course, you remember them too.”

“Yes. I don't believe they do, but their memories were there too,” Ravalor said quietly. “I think Aeven already understands, maybe more than the Warrior, that there is something dangerous. Ever since Sukatar spoke to them.” And Ravalor looked to her, and because he couldn't trust his tired face to show the gratitude he felt for the fact that she had put herself in such danger for him he said, “Thank you for that. They have heeded your warning.”

Sukatar gave him a miniscule nod and an even smaller smile that was not more of a twitch in the corners of her mouth that temporarily broke through the frown on her face. But she did appreciate his acknowledgement.

Zenozarax pondered that information about the status of Aeven and the Warrior, looking away with a frown, glancing back at him ever so briefly as if he tried to make sure Ravalor wasn't (against all odds) playing a very ill timed trick at him.

“Do you think,” Sukatar asked as Zenozarax stayed silent. “You can do it again? Find Quadirymir’s parts when you touch him?”

Ravalor shrugged lightly. “I suppose. I saw all of you just there too.” How was he to promise anything at this point when he barely understood what was happening himself or how it worked. But he didn't want to crush the hope he saw in both Sukatar and Moakatar. He noticed how Zenozarax looked up to them too.

“The old man is still alive. And disconnected from the rest of Quadirymir. He doesn't know what happened,” Sukatar said to Zenozarax. “We can use him. We can find him. And kill him.”

“Alright,” Zenozarax finally said and stood up. “Once Ravalor has reconnected to his other Parts we’re on a timer. If all fails, you need to come here immediately, no matter what. Every part of you. You’ll be literally the very thing Mezchinhar fears the most, a chaos wizards in their midst, and you’re already under watch. We’ll need to be very careful, but if you manage to go unnoticed, we might be able to use this to our advantage.”

Concerned, Ravalor raised his brows. “In what way?”

“If we try to kill Quadirymir, we need to kill all of him. And we’ll need every help we can get if we plan to do that. You two, meet me with Xaronzul in the CC,” he said to Moakatar and Sukatar. “We need a proper strategy and fast and there are a lot of uncertainties to consider. Let’s make sure we cover them.”

Ravalor understood what he was saying. Saw the risk and chance in equal measure. But everyone involved would have to agree. The mere suggestion sent his thoughts spiralling. And it all depended on him.

“Ravalor. I need you to listen to me. Keep your focus on me the entire time, and listen. I’ll guide you through it, but it will still be risky,” Zenozarax said, settling down in a leaned forward position on the chair. Their eyes locked. Ravalor nodded.

“Do exactly as I tell you…”

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