Impure - Chapter Twenty-One (Patreon)

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Chapter Twenty-One

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“Alright, Rivi.” Argos swept a hand at the gnolls checking identity documents, and the long, misshapen lines of people still waiting. “It’s your time to shine.”

The cheetah wrung his hands, his tail flicking. “I’m not sure I’ve ever shone, aside from perhaps in my written words.”

“You shine every damn day, Rivi.” Argos turned towards him, and squeezed the cheetah’s shoulder. “Remember, you don’t have to be rude. Just gently assertive. It’s not your fault you’re a journalist, and they’re not. Ready to give it a shot?”

Rivi was thankful for Argos’s reassuring touch. “Far from it, and yet this is as close to ready as I’m ever going to be.” He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and marched towards the crowd of people. “Excuse me. Press coming through. Sorry. Excuse me.”

Rivi pushed between lines of people, carrying his camera case just below his new press badge. The people in front of him grumbled under their breaths, but begrudgingly made way for him. As Rivi slipped between others, Argos and Iosa followed him closely. Not that Argos needed his help, but Rivi ensured that they had room enough to stay with him. Before long, he had reached the front of the line, where the ship’s security staff was checking names.

“Name?” The nearest gnoll glanced up at the cheetah, then back at his list of names.

“R-Rivi…” Rivi cleared his throat, trying again. “Rivimiralous. I’m with the press.” He shifted his camera case, to show the gnoll his badge.

The tall, brown-furred guard stared down at it a moment. “Looks brand new. This real?”

Rivi swallowed hard, half-expecting Argos to jump in on his behalf. When the coyote simply waited behind him, Rivi knew Argos wanted him to deal with this on his own, too. “Yes, Sir.” Rivi set his camera down, ignoring the displeased groans of the impatient people behind him. He removed his badge, and handed it to the security officer so the gnoll could see both sides. “And it is new. As of today, in fact. But as you can see, it’s legitimate. It contains my photograph, my name, my title, and my foreign press credentials. It was presented to me by a Mister Jeremor Trentstone, press officer of this vessel.” He opened the top few buttons of his coat. “Would you like to see my travel permits and identification, just in case?”

The gnoll passed the badge back. “Might as well.”

Rivi had hoped the gnoll would consider his knowledge of the press officer’s name enough, but he could not fault the guard for doing his job. Still, it wasn’t as if Rivi was bluffing. He clipped his badge back on, then reached into his coat and retrieved his documents. The cheetah handed them to the gnoll.

“Here you are,” Rivi said. “As you can see, I am traveling on a diplomatic/governmental permit, as the Wandering Scholar is an important prestigious journalist position amongst my people. You will also note, of course, that the name and photo on my permits match that on my ID.”

“Yeah, you’re good.” The gnoll passed the permits back. “Sorry for the inconvenience, Sir.”

Rivi offered his friendliest feline smile. “Oh, you’ve nothing to apologize for. I appreciate someone doing their job as thoroughly as you. Especially when that job is keep us all safe.” He tucked his permits away, and picked up his camera case, then looked back at Argos and Iosa. “The coyote and the gray fox are my associates. They’ll be accompanying me to the press area to help me set up my photography equipment.”

“Very well.” The gnoll waved over a kobold who was also wearing a security uniform. “Three for the press box.”

“Got it.” The kobold gestured for them to follow him. “This way, please.”

Rivi followed the little lizard out into the frigid air, with Argos and Iosa at his heels. As much as he wanted to celebrate his own victory just now, he dared not do so while following a security officer. Babbling about how he’d remained calm and talked his way past the security guards just like a real press officer probably wouldn’t go over well with the kobold. After all, the last time he’d attempted to explain himself to security, they thought he had a bomb in his luggage. For now, Rivi settled for glancing over his shoulder at his companions. Argos gave him a big smile and a quick pat on the back, while Iosa silently applauded.

The VIP viewing deck was not quite as festive as had been the day of launch. The crimson banners emblazoned with Black Star’s logo remained, though some of them looked a little worse for the wear. The stage that once held a brass band was empty. The vendors remained, though, selling a variety of hot food, drinks, and alcoholic beverages. Even more people than last time crowded the deck. The safety railing was now packed as far as Rivi could see, often a half dozen people deep. Long lines waited in front of every vendor. Stewards roamed amongst the crowd, telling people what to expect, and helping people find better viewing areas.

Icy winds bit deeply into Rivi’s nose. He scrunched his muzzle, pulling his hat down tighter across his ears. He was ever so pleased he’d remembered it, this time. At least most of the snow was gone. It remained in piles upon the unused loungers stacked along the wall, and in piles long since compressed down to patches of thick, uneven ice. But most of the deck itself was now clear. Given how cold it was despite the clear blue sky and pale, red-orange sun, Rivi doubted the snow had melted. More likely the winds had steadily pushed it from the decks while they’d been flying.

Rivi spared a glance around his followed the kobold across the deck. Black smoke smudged the sky in their wake. It poured from the ship’s smokestacks, and drifted away in gradually dissolving streaks that marked the otherwise endless blue expanse above them. It’s acrid scent occasionally tickled his nose through the mingling scents of people, and icy ocean air. Just as he was about to ask the kobold about their destination, a few distant ooh’s and ah’s drew his attention. Rivi paused to try and see what they were looking at. He scanned the horizon towards the south, just in time to glimpse an otherworldly coil of indigo lightning cascade across the distant sky.

The cheetah gasped, wide-eyed. “Argos! Argos, I think I saw one!”

Argos chuckled, gently pushing him forward. “You’re going to see a whole hell of a lot more than that, soon. Follow our escort.”

“Yes, of course.” Rivi continued after the kobold as the small lizard made his way through the crowds.

Just as Rivi was wondering how far alongside the ship they were going to travel, the kobold cut across the viewing deck, and towards a secure door that led back into a portion of the ship. He opened it with a key, then led the small group inside. They passed by a checkpoint where a gnoll and human in security uniforms were busy playing cards. The two of them looked up, saw the kobold leading Rivi and company inside, and went back to their game. Then the lizard guided them up a short stairwell, and through another door.

Suddenly, they were inside a spacious suite with couches, recliners, and long tables covered in food and drink. Several other tables and chairs dotted the room. Soft music drifted from a radio in the corner. A louder voice from a separate speaker indicated that guests should look to the starboard if they wished to take in the spectacular upcoming view. Floor to ceiling windows lined both sides of the room, offering gorgeous views that overlooked the rest of the VIP deck. Shelves lined with informational brochures lined the other two walls. Some of them were about the Worldstrider herself, others about Black Star, or about its printing and dark room services, as well its commitment to the press, including its own newspaper.

Doors led to secluded balconies on each side of the ship. On the starboard side, at least a dozen people with press badges had already claimed spots, and set up photography and recording equipment. Despite that, just as promised, plenty of space remained for Rivi to do the same. More people milled about inside, some filling up plates with food, or reclining in couches, while others checked over their cameras and equipment in the warmth of the interior room before venturing back into the cold.

“Press access.” The kobold gave a half-hearted wave at the room. “Food and drink are free. When you’re ready to leave, you can go back the way you came, or…” He pointed to a door in the back wall. “That’s the main way back into the ship.” He turned away and headed back out, pausing to point at a photo upon a shelf. “Call if you need anything.”

Rivi stared at the retreating kobold. “Did we come in the wrong way?”

“Who cares,” Iosa said, strolling towards the nearest table laden with delicacies. “Look at all this free food!”

“Argos and I had a light breakfast in the room.” Rivi followed after her, looking over the offerings. There were all sorts of cured meats and cheeses, fruit both fresh and dried, bread of different kinds, jams and spreads, pastries and sweets, and far more than Rivi could identify with a quick glance. “Although, this does look quite good.” Out of the corner of his eye, Rivi spotted another distant bolt of indigo lightning streak across the horizon. “However, I really think I’d rather be outside right now.”

The coyote laughed, ushering Rivi towards the balcony. “Come on, Spots. You’ve been patient enough. Let’s get you set up before your poor, spotted head explodes.”

Iosa waved a curled up piece of salami at them. “Yeah, you two do that. I’ll join you later, if there’s anything worth seeing.” She popped it into her muzzle, then followed it with a few bites of cheese, moaning her enjoyment. “Or not.”

Rivi chuckled as he walked to the door leading outside. “It must quite the incredible life you two lead, to travel so often that even the Fractures grow blasé after a time.”

“Nah, it ain’t that.” Argos held the door open for Rivi. “Some people just don’t like what they see, inside them. Hell, the Fractures still break something new in my head just about every time I see them. And yet, they’re absolutely awe-inspiring.” As Rivi walked through the door, Argos glanced at the vixen. “She’ll probably join us shortly, like she said. And I think it’s less that she doesn’t appreciate them, and more that…” Argos shouldered his camera cases, following the cheetah out into the cold air. “She doesn’t like to think about their potential implications. Kinda like the sun fading.”

Rivi flattened his ears beneath his hat. “Well, I don’t entirely blame her there. We’re…” He looked around for a good spot. “Not really supposed about that in public, where I’m from.”

Argos grimaced, his ears flat. “No, I’d imagine not.” He paused, gently stopping Rivi. “Actually, Spots. On that note, how much have your people told you about the Fractures? You are prepared for what you’re about to see, right? I know you’re excited, but…” He made a murmuring, growling noise. “You know it ain’t all pretty lights and rainbows and shit, right?”

The cheetah nodded, grinning. “Yes, Argos I studied them extensively.”

“I believe you, it’s just…” He scanned the press deck for a good spot. “I dunno if the materials you studied from your Church are, shall we say, wholly accurate? Guess we’ll find out.” He pointed to an open area near the railing. “How about right there, to the left of that human woman? Looks like plenty of room for us.”

“Certainly.” Rivi crossed the balcony towards it. “My Church provided me all the pertinent information. The Fractures are very important to our beliefs.”

“I get that, it’s just…” Argos followed after him. “Not a lot of your people get to see them. And those who do, probably don’t talk about the whole experience. And seeing you so excited, just makes me worry you ain’t quite got a full grasp on what you’re about to see.”

“Thank you, Argos,” Rivi said, glancing back with a smile. “I know they can be frightening at first, but I’ll be fine.”

The human Argos pointed out was female, and dressed in a long, white coat. A pair black gloves hung out of her coat pocket, but her hands were bare and as reddened as her cheeks. Brown hair swirled around her head, buffeted by the winds. The woman was in the process of setting up a large camera upon a tripod.

Rivi hissed to himself as he neared her, glancing back at Argos. “Oh, bother. I didn’t even think to bring my tripod.”

“Next time, Spots.” Argos set his two camera cases down near the cheetah. “I got real steady hands, for now.”

“Honestly,” said the woman nearby. “I’m not sure the tripod is going to work out, anyway. Even though we can barely feel the ship’s vibrations up here, the camera can feel it. But, I remain eternally hopeful.” She chuckled to herself.

Rivi set his camera case down as well, then smiled. “Still, at least you actually remembered to bring yours. I hope it works out in your favor.”

“Thank you.” The woman turned towards him, smiling. “Jaye Starling, by the way.” She held out her hand. “The Alimos Endeavor.”

“Oh! Umm…” Rivi glanced at her hand, deciding just to go ahead and shake it. He still had his gloves on, after all, and he doubted she had much experience with his people’s customs. So he took her hand, gave it a firm squeeze, and a gentle shake. “I was just reading your fine publication the other day, wasn’t I Argos?”

“He was.” Argos gently bumped Rivi with his elbow. “Don’t forget to introduce yourself in return. And you can let go, now.”

Rivi glanced down at his hand, still wrapped around her bare one. He released it, his ears back. “Sorry. Not entirely used to shaking hands.”

Jaye pulled her hand back, offering him a sheepish grin. “My apologies, then. Mister…?”

“Rivi!” He pointed to his own press badge, where his full name was spelled. “Rivimiralous, actually, but Rivi is perfectly acceptable for those not used to names in the feline tongue. And as you can see, I’m not with a specific publication.” Rivi paused a moment, furrowing his brows, his ears splayed beneath his hat. He contemplated how best to explain what he was doing to someone who wouldn’t know his ways, only for the woman to jump in.

“Freelance, huh?” She leaned against the railing. “That can be a tough market, at least back where I’m from.”

“In a manner of speaking.” Rivi scratched at his neck. “I’ve actually been…” He chose his words carefully, hoping to avoid having to explain his position in too much detail. “Hired by the Church of the Divine Weaver, to travel around the world in order to document everything I experience.”

“Oh, not shit?” The woman straightened up, grinning. “So, you’re like a travel journalist. That sounds exciting.”

Rivi chuckled to himself, rubbing his hands together. “Something like that. And yes, it’s often quite exciting. Exciting, and terrifying, in equal measure.”

“Yeah, that’s life for you.” She went around behind her camera, peering through the view finder. “So did you take The Worldstrider on purpose, for your travelogue?”

The cheetah shook his head, crouching down to open up one of his camera cases. “No, I was meant to be on The Bridgehead, but some…” He scrunched his muzzle. “Unfortunate events caused me a delay. I was just thankful to make it out of Tivos at all.”

The woman scowled, adjusting a few dials on her camera. “Yeah.” She reached forward, fidgeting with the lens. “Poor bastards. But hey…” She straightened up and gave Rivi a smile. “At least riding on the Worldstrider will give you an extra chapter for whatever it is you’re working on. Is it gonna be a book, or a journal, or what?”

“A book,” Rivi said, removing his best long distance camera. He swapped the lens attached to it for another with greater telescopic capability. “Although depending on how much material I return home with, it could be multiple books, as well as separate photo journals.”

“Damn!” Jaye crossed her arms, grinning. “That’s a hell of a project. They cover your travel, for something like that?”

Rivi checked to ensure the new lens was attached properly, then stood up. “They do, yes. Does the Endeavor cover such costs for you, as well? I’d assume they must, if you’re on this trip as part of your employment.”

“I’m on the job, yeah.” She scrunched her face. “They got me writing some puff pieces about Black Star’s longest routes and biggest ships, lately. Honestly, I’m pretty sure they’re just kissing Black Star’s ass cause they’re our biggest advertiser.” Jaye scratched her head. “After the shit that happened in Tivos, though, this might be the last time they sent someone out so far from home. Our travel insurance is gonna go through the fuckin’ roof.”

Argos cleared his throat with a little growl. “You might be able to get Black Star to help with that. Their pockets are pretty deep, and they’re not afraid to throw their weight around against insurance industry folks to get what they want. You’d probably have to have your financial folks talk to theirs, but…” The coyote shrugged. “They’re usually happy to help. Though, it might mean you get stuck writing more ass-kissing puff pieces.”

Jaye laughed, turning towards the coyote. “Yeah, probably. Thanks for the tip, though. You the cheetah’s photography tech?” She looked Argos over, grinning. “Or maybe his fixer?”

“A little of both. Name’s Argos.” The coyote offered her his hand.

“Nice to meet you.” Jaye shook his hand, still smiling. “Sounds like you’ve worked with Black Star folks before in one capacity, or another.”

“You too.” Argos pulled his hand back, returning her smile. “And yeah, you could say I’ve done some work for Black Star, before. Some of their people know me pretty well, by now.”

Rivi’s ears shifted under his hat. He wondered if Argos was just making up a backstory for himself, or if his secret policeman guild had investigated some crime committed against Black Star? Or perhaps he just meant his security duties, while traveling for free aboard their vessels. Whatever the case, Rivi made a mental note to try and avoid saying anything that might compromise whatever truth Argos wished to weave for strangers.

In the distance, lightning gashed the sky with a forked, azure bolt. Even against the blue horizon, it stood out, sharp and clear. Rivi gasped, pointing towards it. “Argos! Did you see that?” He fiddled with a few dials on his camera. “I need to adjust my shutter speed for distance, but I might be able to get one of those.”

“Oh, don’t worry Rivi,” Argos said, moving to the cheetah’s side. “You’re gonna get plenty of photographs. That wasn’t nothing.”

Rivi lifted his camera, peering through the viewfinder. Through his telescoping lens, distant whirls and coils of crackling indigo forked off from long, angular lines cut in the sky by similar bolts. Rivi sucked in a slow breath, his eyes widening. Another bolt branched away, crackling across the horizon. Rivi snapped a photo, hoping he’d caught it. Then he turned his focus onto the otherworldly display of odd, unevenly cut shapes, like poorly designed triangles and other shapes that didn’t quite fit together.

“I can see them.” Rivi’s hands shook. He pushed the button to snap another photo. His trembling finger required extra effort to do it’s job. “Argos, I-I can see them!”

Argos picked up one of the other cameras, swapping its lens for another telescoping one. “I know, Spots. You’re about to see a whole hell of a lot more.” The coyote took a few pictures, his tail swishing and bumping Rivi’s. “We’ll save the Colormaster for when we’re right alongside them.”

Jaye returned to her own camera, glancing over. “First time, Mister Rivi?”

The cheetah lowered the camera. To his naked eye, only a flickering blue mass of shapeless, roiling blue bolts marked the far horizon. “Yes.” He offered the human a sheepish smile. “I’d always hoped to see the Fractures in person someday, but until I was named the Wandering Scholar, I didn’t expect I’d ever get to.”

“Yeah, they’re something alright.” She leaned forward to look through her camera, adjusting her lens. Then she snapped a few photos. “Gonna get a few of these to go with my article.”

A bell chimed, and an announcement piped through the ship’s external PA speakers. “Attention honored Worldstrider guests! In approximately five minutes, we will be approaching prime viewing period of Sundered Sea Fractures numbers eight, nine, ten, and eleven. For those wishing to view, all starboard windows, portholes, and viewing decks will provide opportunities. Please avoid overcrowding, and use caution on all external viewing decks. Be forewarned some bolts and flashes may be extremely bright, even at a distance. Those prone to motion sickness, or those of weak dispositions and prone to anxieties may wish to avoid looking directly into the Fractures themselves. It is not recommended that small children view the Fractures. The Worldstrider and Black Star Intercontinental remind you that they are neither responsible for anything seen, glimpsed or imagined within the Fractures, nor are they legally liable for any mental, emotional, physical or any other distress, damage, or illness caused by viewing the Fractures. Please view at your own risk.”

Rivi scowled, looking at the coyote. “Do they always make that sort of announcement?”

Argos nodded. “Yup.” He snapped a few pictures. “They’ve had a few people try to sue them over the years, after they saw something in the Fractures that messed with their heads. Hell, a few years ago, some poor bastard even scaled the railing, and jumped off the ship.”

“Really?” Rivi set his camera down, then took his hat off. He rubbed his ears. “I hadn’t heard about that.”

“I’m not surprised.” Argos took another picture, then paused, turning towards the cheetah. Concern etched itself across his face, his ears splayed. “Rivi, you do know what you’re about to see, don’t you? I mean, The Church tells what kinda things people see inside the Fractures?”

“Yes, Argos.” Rivi smoothed his fur down, then pulled his hat back on. “I’m ready. I’ve been ready, all my life, I think.”

“Rivi…” Argos gently grasped his arm. “This is important. Tell me what you expect to see, just so I know you’ll be alright. I don’t want to start panicking, or suffer some kind of anxiety attack.”

The cheetah only smiled at him. “Don’t worry, Argos.” He picked his camera back up. “I may not know what exactly I will see, but I know what the Fractures are. They’re the evidence that my people are right about the Divine Weaver.”

Argos gave him a long, hard look. “Alright, Spots. I ain’t gonna press you, if you don’t wanna be pressed. But you need to understand, sometimes this don’t go well with first-timers. Especially if they ain’t as ready as they think they are. So if you start to feel ill or panicky or anything, let me know right away. Okay?”

Rivi studied the coyote’s face, a little uncertain as to why Argos was suddenly so concerned for him. “I will do so. If it helps ease your mind, I have read that a primal, instinctual sort of fear is not uncommon for those viewing a Fracture directly for the first time. Particularly if they don’t understand what they’re looking at.”

“That’s one way to put it.” The coyote scrunched his face. “I’m just a little worried that your Church might not have prepared you as well as you think, if I ain’t heard that it ain’t all beautiful blue lights.”

Rivi lifted his camera. “It’s alright, Argos. I was taught all about them. Fractures are the jagged seams where once the Divine Weaver knit our broken world back together. Our world is imperfect, just as we are, just as the Divine Weaver was.” He peered through the viewfinder again. Now, as they drew nearer the Fractures, their frayed, crackling edges were far more defined, like roughly triangular holes punched in the sky itself, and light ablaze with indigo fire. Rivi trembled, taking another picture. Within the Fractures, loomed the inky expanse of the grand, star-strewn Cosmos. “And thusly, through the tattered weave of frayed existence, did they first glimpse the Truth. That we are woven from Many, and Many yet remain.”

Argos set his camera back in the case, closing it. “Hey, Spots. I’ve seen these plenty of times. Why don’t you let me worry about photography, and you just…” He reached out, and gently took Rivi’s camera into his hands. “You just let it all wash over you, huh?”

The cheetah smiled, allowing Argos to take it. “Thank you, Argos.”

“Of course.” Argos gave him another long look. “Just remember what I said. You feel off or anything, you stop looking and let me know.”

“I promise,” the cheetah said.

Rivi fell silent as The Worldstrider drifted closer to the Fractures. His mind whirled, his thoughts pulled in a thousand directions. Exhilaration built in the cheetah as the strange shapes in the sky grew more defined, their crackling indigo borders rippling and pulsing with otherworldly light. Already in his journey, Rivi had seen many incredible thinks, witnessed spectacular scenery, learned new customs, and met a bevy of fascinating people. But only now, on approach to the Fractures, did Rivi truly feel as though he were on a pilgrimage.

The Fractures were everything to the Church of the Divine Weavers. They were the purest evidence that they believed in the truth. To the Church’s devout, there were scarcely few places more sacred. Even their holiest temples and libraries, even in tombs where venerated elders were blessed by entire generations of bishops, only a handful would ever be considered as truly sacred as even the smallest of the world’s Fractures. The Fractures were belief incarnate. For here, all could see where the Broken World had been woven back together by the Divine. Where The Weaver’s power still the world together.

The Ethereal Blue, the felines called it. The so-called blue lightning was not lightning at all. It was the stitching that closed their world’s wounds. It was the lifeblood of the Grand Cosmos itself, the lingering power of the Divine Weaver. Where once the Divine of Sand And Smoke poured forth his own essence, the very power of creation, and used it to weave a shattered, dying world anew. From annihilation, creation. From nothingness, existence. From a fading universe, renewal, and rebirth.

The Ethereal Blue was the fabric that held the pieces of their world together. The felines believed it bound matter and antimatter, existence and nothingness, a singular, impossible weave formed of every element in the grand cosmos. It stitched continents from disparate worlds together like so many scattered puzzle pieces. In turn, it bound those continents to oceans, and those oceans to impossible seas of roiling, freezing clouds.

The Broken World was vast, and even to the world’s wisest scholars and scientists, not fully understood. Where here they crossed the Sundered Sea, further north were the Emptiness, and the Writhing Chasms, seemingly bottomless abysses with roiling clouds of toxic or acidic gases, places that could only be explored with highly specialized equipment, pressure suits, and so on. No one believed such places existed in their world before the Great Fracturing, and yet the Ethereal Blue now bound them to the rest of the Broken World.

The Fractures were the holes between the Ethereal Blue. Where the shattered fragments of countless worlds did not quite fit together. They existed in a few dozen places around the world, evidence of its piecemeal creation. In his childhood schooling, the Fractures were explained with a simple analogy. Rivi could still hear his teacher’s voice, patiently explaining to her students.

Imagine the world as a glass sphere. Beautiful, and blue. Sitting alongside a dozen just like it. Until one day, the wind blows, and all the spheres come crashing down. They shatter against the floor, their uncountable fragments scattered forever. You cannot repair the spheres, as they once were. All you can do, is pick up the largest pieces left of every sphere and use them to make something new. The Ethereal Blue is the paste you use to hold your broken sphere in place. And the Fractures are the holes that linger between fragments of glass, where the pieces refuse to fit together.

Rivi tried to draw it, as a child. Most feline children did. Rivi had drawn big, jagged-edged triangles, with spirals of blue lighting knifing through the space around them. And he’d drawn airships, looking like little more than bloated eggs with propellers, and stick figurines of felines riding atop them, all gazing at the Fractures. A few years later, when most children had given drawing in crayon, Rivi continued. Only then, he was trying to draw whole maps of the known world from memory, with locational-accurate Fractures. A small wonder, he supposed, that he had so few friends. When the other young felines were all out in the sun, playing sports and climbing trees, while he was huddled in his room, charting the world's anomalies.

And now, for the first time in his life, Rivi was about to see them. Tears brimmed in the cheetah’s eyes. Until he was selected to be the Wandering Scholar, Rivi wasn’t sure he would ever get to see them in person. Despite their great important to the Church, it was rare for the average citizen to ever see a Fracture in person. Everyone saw photos of them, but travel outside the country in Rivi’s lifetime was prohibitively expensive for the average person. Church Officials were required to make a pilgrimage to see them at least once, but such voyages were paid for by the Church. Rivi had hoped perhaps to travel with his family, one day, and view them together, but he doubted that would ever happen.

The Ethereal Blue brightened the nearer they drew to it. Great streaks of blazing indigo erupted across the sky in brilliant, angry flashes. The crowd on the viewing deck below gasped collectively each time another stray of azure light tore through the horizon. As they approached the Fractures themselves, their outlines became clearer. Shimmering lines of brilliant blue light crisscrossed the sky, intersecting at odd angles. Four, roughly triangular chasms sat amidst the lines, each unevenly sized from the others. Any moment now, Rivi thought with a shiver of excitement, he would see into the Fractures. When the angle was just right, they would create a window through existence itself. The Fractures would offer him glimpses of the stars, of the Cosmos, even the worlds of the Many.

Only, they didn’t.

When at last Rivi saw directly into the Fractures, they were not a window at all. They were an abyss, holes torn through reality itself. And within each abyss, there was nothing. No sky, no sea, no light, no stars. Nothing. Rippling, cerulean bolts hemmed each Fracture. But where once they were beautiful, suddenly they were terrifying. Now, it looked as if The Ethereal Blue was not simply binding the world together, but preventing it from being consumed by non-existence. For a brief, horrifying moment, Rivi wondered if that was the truth Scripture spoke of. That after the Great Fracturing, that there were no more worlds beyond theirs. That this Broken World was all that remained of reality. And that one day, the Ethereal Blue would dissolve, and non-existence would consume them, too.

And then there would be nothing.

Rivi gasped, stumbling away from the railing. He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. Argos caught his arm, steadying him. Rivi got his balance, and gave the coyote’s hand a thoughtful squeeze. He stepped towards the railing again, his heart thundering in his chest. He tried to thank the coyote, but for once, all the voices and words that ever tumbled through his head fell silent. Awed, or terrified, it made no difference. Rivi could find not a single word to speak, either way.

Argos gently pulled him closer, setting down the camera. He nosed gently at the cheetah’s exposed ear, uncaring who might see. “You alright, Spots? It’s okay to look away, and collect yourself.”

Rivi did just that, pressing his face into the coyote’s chest. “I…I thought…”

“I know.” Argos gently rubbed Rivi’s back. “Everything thinks they’re prepared to see them in person. That’s why I tried to ask if you really knew what you were about to see, but I didn’t wanna seem insensitive.”

Rivi took a slow, trembling breath. “I-I thought I was. But, I thought, when you looked into them, you saw…” Rivi shivered. “But there’s…nothing. Not even stars.” He swallowed, slowly looking up. “Just…emptiness.”

“Is that what you think you saw?” Argos gently caressed the cheetah’s ear, just beneath his hat. “Emptiness?”

Rivi clutched at the coyote’s coat, clinging to him as though Argos were the only life preserver still float in a cold, empty sea. “There was…” Rivi’s eyes darted around. The rest of the press section were still taking photos. A few of them looked nervous, or disconcerted. An eerie silence had settled over the viewing deck below. “Nothing.”

Rivi knew he’d only just said that, and yet he could think of no other word to describe what lay beyond the fractures. That wasn’t what he was supposed to see. That wasn’t what they told him he’d see. There was meant to be truth there. The Ethereal Blue was the evidence that they were right about their world’s creation. But the Fractures were supposed to the truth of their beliefs, as well. That other existences lingered, that theirs was not the only one left after the Great Fracturing. Unless…Unless…

“Argos?” Rivi’s voice trembled. “Is…The Cosmos gone? Are we all that’s left?”

The coyote grimaced, his tan-furred ears flattening back. He was quite for a few breaths, staring off at the Fractures. The glimmering Ethereal Blue reflected and shimmered in his golden eyes. When he finally spoke, he sounded far more subdued than Rivi had ever heard him. “I dunno, Spots.” He took a slow, measured breath. “Ain’t no one ever asked me that, and I ain’t…” His muzzle twisted. “I ain’t wanted to think about it, since I first saw ‘em.”

Rivi whimpered, resting his head against Argos’s chest. He wrapped his arms around the coyote, wishing he could provide Argos as much comfort as Argos brought him. In that moment, Rivi did not care about beliefs, taboos, or impurity. He only wanted to hold someone, and be held in return. Whoever may witness, he cared not. “I thought they’d be beautiful, but…” The cheetah pressed himself into the coyote’s body. “They’re terrifying.”

“They’re both, Spots.” Argos held Rivi with one arm around his body, the other working his hand in a slow circle against the back of Rivi’s neck. “You, people say a lot of things about the Fractures, depending on where they’re from. What they believe. Some people…” Argos looked down at the cheetah. “Say that if you stare into them while they’re empty, you see only the truth you’ve always secretly wanted to believe, no matter how deeply it terrifies you. Others say-”

“Why would I ever want to see emptiness?” Rivi jerked his head up, his eyes wide. “It’s horrifying, it…” He trailed off, looking down. “I’m sorry, I interrupted you. And you didn’t mean me, specifically. But that…” He shook his head, his tail twitching. “That can’t be true. Why would I want that to be the truth?”

Argos hand stilled upon his neck. “Do you really want me to answer that, Spots?”

“If you have an answer, I’d…” Rivi forced himself to smile. “I’d like to hear it?”

Something dark drifted behind Argos’s eyes. Pain ever so slightly engraved itself across his face, his eye narrowed, his ears half-dropping. “Are you sure?”

Rivi nodded once. “Yes.”

“Spots…” Argos took a very slow breath, as if readying himself. “If what you secretly wanted to see inside the Fractures was nothingness, then it’s because you hoped your people were wrong.”

The cheetah blinked, tilting his head. Confusion settled over him. “Why would I hope that?”

“Because…” Argos eased away, just a little. He lifted his hands, and cupped Rivi’s muzzle between them. “If they were wrong about something so fundamental to their beliefs, then surely they’d be wrong about this, too. About impurity. About us. And somewhere, in your battered heart, and your bruised soul, I think you’ve always hoped they were wrong, about you. Because whatever they say, whatever they tell you, you’re fucking pure. And I think somewhere, in some secret, hidden place inside you, you’ve only ever hoped they’d realize it.”

A lump swiftly forced in Rivi’s constricting throat. He smiled weakly at Argos, a few stray tears running down beneath his spectacles. Argos swept them off his with gentle brushes of his thumbs. “I…I don’t…”

“You don’t gotta say nothing, Spots.” Argos cradled his muzzle a little longer, smiling at him. “You already know I think you’re exactly who you’re meant to be. You ask me, you’re fuckin’ perfect, no matter what your gods-damned Church says.” Argos lowered his head, bumping his muzzle against the cheetah’s forehead, just between his spectacles and his hat. It wasn’t quite a kiss, but Rivi imagined it was as close as Argos dared without asking for very explicit permissions. “And I will fuck up anyone who tries to hurt you, just for being who you are.”

The cheetah smiled, nuzzling at Argos throat. “Th-thank you.”

“Of course, Spots.” Argos brushed his muzzle against Rivi’s. “Just so we’re clear, I’d also fuck up anyone trying to hurt you for other reasons, too.”

Rivi giggled, closing his eyes. He leaned his head against Argos, their muzzles touching. A moment of laughter felt good. It brought light to the darkness of the strange, existential dread that filled him when he stared into the maw of non-existence. He took a slow, trembling breath, and only then did he realized how intimately close they were, despite the public setting. And yet, Rivi did not pull away…

Instead, it occurred to Rivi that once again, he could easily kiss Argos, if he so chose. The coyote would most assuredly kiss him back. The urge was there, tempting him. Rivi resisted it, for now. Not because he was fearful of impurity’s temptation, but because if he ever did to kiss the coyote, then he wanted their first kiss to be private. Rivi forced himself to ease back, just enough to tamp down on the temporary urge.

The cheetah turned, glancing anew at the Fractures. The Ethereal Blue churned and crackled around them in constant waves of shimmering, azure light. Rivi avoided looking directly into them, this time. He took a few slow breaths, and leaned against Argos. The coyote put an arm around him, and the sheltering embrace helped to ease his mind, a little more.

“You were right,” Rivi said, resting his head against the coyote. “I wasn’t prepared. I’m sorry I brushed you off.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, Spots.” Argos chuckled, gently rubbing his arm. “Coulda been worse. You wanna know what happened the first time I saw ‘em?”

Rivi glanced up at his face. “What?”

“I puked.” The coyote yipped laughter, his tail wagging in amusement. “I was all gung ho and excited. Iosa had seen then once before, and she tried to warn me. But I didn’t listen, either. There were bigger Fractures, down south. And I stared right into the biggest one, waitin’ to see whatever it was gonna show me…” He snorted. “And then I projectile vomited, all over the deck. And Iosa’s shoes.”

“Ew!” Rivi giggled, scrunching his muzzle. He playfully swatted Argos. “No wonder she didn’t she want to come view them with us.”

Argos laughed again. “Yeah, she’s not real keen on them when they’re in dark phase. She likes them when there’s glimpses, but even then, it’s usually just me coming to see them we’re crossing the seas.”

Rivi blinked, slowly turning his eyes back towards the Fractures. The Ethereal Blue was even brighter now, slicing mesmerizing lines across the sky. “Dark phase? So…they do sometimes show…” Rivi’s muzzle crinkled. “Something more than dread-inducing emptiness?”

Argos squeezed the cheetah up against his body. “Yeah, Spots. Was hoping they’d be doing it when we first saw them, but that wasn’t real likely. Supposedly, decades ago they used to show glimpses into…” He waved his free hand. “Into whatever the hell they show, a lot more often. Now though, they just sorta flicker on and off, like someone’s messin’ with a light switch.” He glanced at the cheetah. “Flicker’s a relative term, of course. We’re talking, minutes, sometimes hours at a time. But I ain’t never been past them without seeing something in there.”

Rivi smiled to himself, resting against the coyote. “Well, then my people weren’t lying, at least. They just…” His smile faded. “Left out the emptiness.” He flicked his ears back. “A test, maybe.”

Argos tilted his head. “What’s that, now?”

“A test. Of character, perhaps.” Rivi curled an arm around Argos, gently rubbing his body through his coat. “Upon promotion to a certain rank, Church and Ministry officials are required to make a pilgrimage to view a Fracture in person. They’re always accompanied by someone who outranks them, who’s seen them before. I suddenly doubt they’re ever told what they’re going to see, because…” He scowled, his muzzle contorting. “They’re being judged. On their reactions, I imagine.” He looked down, staring at his own boots. “I would have failed.”

“Fuck that,” Argos said, a growl in his voice. “What the hell would that want from you? To stare into the fucking void, and smile? To fall on your knees and praise it?” He adopted a deep, faux-magisterial tone. “To swear upon your very soul that you glimpsed not emptiness, but the Divines themselves, descending from the heavens!”

Rivi giggled. “Something like that, probably.”

Argos kept talking, still speaking in a minister’s all-too-serious tones. “And then, did the divines gather together, to dance a fucking jig! Upon its completion, they pulled down their trousers, one and out, and shat glittering blue lightning!”

Rivi’s giggle erupted into an incredulous laugh. He swatted Argos. “That’s enough blasphemy of you, Sir!” He glanced away, smirking. “Besides, the Divines don’t wear clothing as we do, they wouldn’t have to pull anything down before shitting blue lightning.”

Argos barked happy canine laughter. “Uh oh, Spots, you’re gonna get yourself in trouble.”

“Yes,” Rivi said, leaning his head against Argos again. “I could.” He closed his eyes. The Ethereal Blue shone brightly enough to leave the darkness of his eyelids faintly indigo-hued. “I probably will.” Rivi was quiet for a little while, savoring the steady, comforting thump of the coyote’s heartbeat. “Argos?” He opened his eyes to bleary slits, glancing up. “What do your people say about the Fractures?”

“Well…” Argos’s hand slowly ran up and down Rivi’s back. “Ages ago, canine sailors and explorers called them The Abyssal Eyes. And that everyone sees something different, when they stare into them. That it’s…” He shrugged. “Some kinda reflection of what’s in your heart, or your soul.” He gave a low snort. “I always just sorta figured that meant some people started hallucinating when they stared into ‘em for too long, but…”

When Argos trailed off, Rivi looked up. “Did you see something in them?”

“Emptiness, mostly,” Argos said. “But once in a while…” He clenched his jaw. “Hell, Spots, that ain’t something I wanna talk about. Least of all in public.”

Rivi nodded. “I understand.” He stared up at the coyote, watching Argos’s face. All his usual bravado was gone. All the carefully constructed walls around his inner reality had fallen. Pain lingered in his eyes with each rippling blue reflection. The fractures reflected back as well, like holes piercing through Argos into his soul. Rivi would not press the coyote, but he did not have to. He knew well enough that Argos had done terrible things, in his work. And it was clear, if only for a moment, how heavily those things weighed upon him. Rivi knew then what Argos saw, in the Fractures.

Argos saw the people he’d killed.

All at once, Rivi wanted nothing more than to comfort the coyote who’d been so kind to him. “No one,” Rivi said, curling his fingers around Argos’s hand. “Is only the worst moments of their life. You are every bit the kindness you’ve shown me, as you are the cruelty you’ve done. I hope you remember that.”

Argos slowly turned his head down, staring not at Rivi, but at their nearly intertwined fingers. Rivi hadn’t conscious realized what he was doing, in his attempts to comfort Argos. And he still bore his gloves, so the contact between them was not as intimate as it could be. Argos opened his hand a little in silent invitation. Rivi knew he should withdraw his hand. He should hug the coyote, instead, or squeeze his arm, or rub his back. Or any of the other things that, at least to the felines of the Church, offered less intimacy than the intertwined holding of hands. But Rivi did none of those things. Instead, he slowly curled his fingers through Argos’s, and ever so gently, held the coyote’s hand.

“Thanks, Spots.” Argos resting his muzzle atop Rivi’s head.

And that was that. Argos did not make a big deal of it. He did not question it or even point it out. He simply accepted Rivi’s gesture, and tenderly held the cheetah’s hand in return. Rivi gave a fluttering little sigh. How easy it was, to do what felt right, when he was with Argos. His heart shuddered in his chest. He was ever so grateful for Argos’s discretion. He did not want it to seem like a major event. He did not want the coyote to act surprised or tease him about blasphemy. Rivi just wanted Argos to accept his comforting touch, and move on, as if it was as normal for the cheetah as it was for the coyote.

And that was exactly what Argos did.

Even if, in truth, it was far from normal for Rivi. He wasn’t sure if Argos even understood just how intimate a gesture this was. Rivi knew their ways sounded ever so prudish to the rest of the world, and yet they were the only ways he knew. The holding of hands were reserved for family members, dearest friends, and for formal offerings of gratitude, mercy, and so on. Even when Rivi removed his gloves to thank Argos for saving his life, that had been the first time in years he’d held someone else’s hand, without his gloves on. And even with his gloves, he had never held the hand of someone he…

Someone he…

Rivi took a trembling, worried breath. Rivi, we… We aren’t falling in…

Love…

Are we?

We don’t know, Rivi. We’ve never been in love, before…

“Spots!” Argos’s hand tightened against his, exciting rising his voice.

Rivi jerked his head, half afraid he’d been babbling aloud. “Nothing!”

Argos glanced down at him, smirking. “It’s alright, Rivi. Your thoughts stayed in your head that time.”

“Oh, thank the Divines for that, Rivi.” He rubbed his face with his free hand.

The coyote pointed over the railing, to the distant horizon. “Spots, look! You’re gonna wanna see this.”

The cheetah turned his head, gazing back towards the Fractures. The blue bolts that fenced them in sparked with new life, blazing brighter than ever. Rippling cascades of azure poured off them, rolling across the sky like waves on the ocean. More jagged streaks of Ethereal Blue erupted from each wave, streaking across the horizon. For the first time, small sparks ignited in the center of one of the Fractures. They swirled and grew, sending out little streamers that connected to the walls hemming them in.

Rivi gasped, his eyes widening. “It’s beautiful…”

“And it’s about to get more beautiful.” Argos gave Rivi’s hand a comforting squeeze. “We should get photographs for your book, Rivi.”

“But…” Rivi’s eyes fell down to their intertwined fingers. He knew Argos was right, and yet, it was suddenly ever so hard just to tear his hand away from the Coyote’s.

Argos only smiled at him. “Only if you want to.”

Rivi heaved a little sigh, torn between his duty to the pilgrimage, and the sudden gravity the coyote’s hand seemed to possess. “I should. I only have pictures of the Blue from a distance, and the emptiness, so far.”

Argos waggled his fingers against Rivi’s. “We can do this again anytime you want, Spots.”

“I…” Rivi swallowed, his ears back. “I’d like that.”

On the horizon, light suddenly erupted in the rightmost Fracture. In a single instant, the emptiness was gone. Existence replaced nothingness. Now, a vast savannah stretched on, beyond the Fracture. Strange trees and bushes grew above dry grasses, some with flattened canopies, others oddly dome shamed. Hills and cliffs rose in angular formations, as if created by some great upheaval. Two vaguely feline-looking animals lounged upon a nearby hilltop, one with golden fur, the other with black spots. In the distance, a trio of fiery spheres slowly churned in the sky. Shocked and awed cries rang out from around the deck. Photographers snapped photograph after photograph.

Rivi’s jaw dropped. “That…that’s…”

Argos smiled at him, releasing his hand. “I know, Spots. I know. I’ll get your camera.”

The coyote turned away, quickly retrieving Rivi’s Crystal Colormaster. “You’re gonna want the 7-5 for this. Trust me.” He lifted it, peering through the viewfinder, then adjusted a few settings. “Okay, you’re ready.” Argos held it out to the cheetah.

Rivi was still staring at the Fracture. “Argos, are you seeing this?”

Argos chuckled, pressing the camera into Rivi’s chest until the cheetah took it. “Yeah, Spots. Is this more like what you expected to see?”

The cheetah raised his camera in trembling hands. “Y-yes. Only it’s…even more impossible and spectacular than I’d imagine.” He looked through the viewfinder. Argos had adjusted the distance lens a little bit. He focused on the newly filled in Fracture, and snapped several photos in a row. “I thought it would be like, a window. Like looking through glass, or crystal. But…it’s as though it’s right there.” He swallowed, and took another shot. “As if we could fly right through it.”

“People have,” Argos said, fetching one of the cameras. “Don’t know if anyone’s ever come back, though.”

“They have?” Rivi looked over for a moment. “I haven’t heard that. Who?”

Argos merely shrugged. “Ages ago, mostly. Old researchers and explorers. Once people realized no one was coming back, they stopped going through. Sometimes you see research vessels, taking measurements and conducting experiments, though.” His camera clicked, and he wound the film. “Next set of Fractures we pass is surrounded by a bunch of small islands, and big stone spires. There’s actually a couple permanent research bases built there.”

Rivi twisted his lens, zooming in a little further. The Colormaster was not made for long distance the way the other two cameras he’d brought were, but they were already close as they’d be to the Fractures all day. He adjusted the shutter speed, watching as the golden furred creature rose up, stretched, and then playfully swatted the spotted one across the head. The spotted beast tried to swat back, only for the larger, golden one to dance away.

“Argos…” Rivi took a few pictures of their mischievous interactions. “Those animals look suspiciously feline like. Almost like…”

“A cheetah, I know.” Argos snapped a few photos as well. “And a lion.” 

“Do you suppose those are…” Rivi lowered the camera, thinking it over. “Well, do you remember our conversation about rabbits, and hares? Do you think those are the hare equivalent of my people? After all, the humans have hounds.”

“Fuck if I know, Spots.” Argos glanced over with a grin. “You know more about that scholarly shit than I do.”

Rivi chuckled to himself. He shifted another dial on his camera. “Our people have catalogued many of the places and things glimpsed through the Fractures, but off-hand, I cannot say I recognize this one. They’re…often different, aren’t they?”

Argos nodded, making a few adjustments of his own. “Yeah. I’ve seen dozens of different…” He paused, scrunching muzzle. “Well, I guess no one really knows what we’re actually seeing, right? Alien worlds, different realities, visions of the past…hell, maybe we’re just looking at memories from your Divine Weaver. Whatever it is, I’m seen dozens of different ones.”

Soon, sparks flickered in another of the Fractures. They whirled and spun, unleashing little streamers against the walls. More and more of them joined until there was a churning maelstrom of Ethereal Blue, raging against the emptiness. Then, just as before, they suddenly erupted into light, and existence. This one showed something else entirely. A great city filled with humans stretched on, seemingly forever. Shops and multistoried homes lined the cobbled streets. The roadways teamed with people and carriages. An ancient castle loomed in the distance, with five great towers.

Rivi took a few pictures, but before he could truly parse what he was seeing, the next Fracture also sprang to life. Then so too, did the last one. He did his best to photograph the entire process, from the first sparks, to the swirling coils of lightning, to the eruption of light and matter where once was nothingness. The third Fracture displayed yet another scene. Here, an airship drifted across a scorched wasteland. A gnoll standing on the deck leaned against the railing, his arms folded, battered body armor across his form. A green-scaled kobold sat upon the safety rail next to him, his own ceremic plated armor shattered in a few places, but still somewhat intact. Pistols and knives were strapped everywhere.

“My kinda guys.” Argos quickly took a few pictures of them.

The last Fracture to come to life exploded into vibrant, golden hues. Endless, rolling sand dunes stretched on as far as Rivi could see. A bright, red-orange sun shone down, far more vibrant than their own faded golden star. Rivi froze. It couldn’t be, could it? Winds swirled across the sands, kicking up little dust devils. The cheetah snapped a few pictures.

“Oh please,” Rivi said, muttering under his breath. “Let us see them.”

Argos glanced over. “You expecting someone there, Spots?”

Rivi spared him an ever so brief glance. “If we’re lucky.”

Argos flattened his ears. “Care to explain?”

The cheetah merely shrugged. “Not yet.”

They both returned to taking pictures. Rivi took a few shots zoomed in on each fracture, and a few more that depicted all four at once. Now and then he paused just to smile at Argos. Each time, the coyote smiled back. The dread that filled him earlier was gone, now. Washed away by the comfort he took from Argos, and the beauty of the images now before him. This, Rivi thought, was why people waited their whole lives to glimpse a Fracture.

After a few minutes had passed, the imagery of the savannah with its dry grasses, strange trees, and broken land masses suddenly began to flicker. Streaks of Ethereal Blue sliced through it, and the image fragmented like glass. Now, little shard reflected its own tiny imagery. At first, they were all different, countless worlds and lives, memories and existences, that may or may have ever truly been at all. Maybe they were all happening, right now. Maybe they’d never happened. Maybe the Divine was merely dreaming them.

One by one, the shards all began to reflect a new image. This one was white. Snow smothered everything. A human woman trudged through it, a great, scaled beast behind her. A dragon. Rivi gasped. He’d never actually seen one in person, before. They were among the rarest of all the world’s peoples, and scarcely ever deigned to visit the felines. Then again, Rivi doubted most dragons would be welcomed by the Church, given their reputation for certain organized activities often deemed criminal. This dragon, however, stretched its wing, to shelter the human woman from the falling snow.

Movement drew Rivi’s attention away from the new image. He turned his gaze back to the desert, glimpsed through the leftmost Fracture. A small, gray-furred creature danced upon the top of a sand dune. It had tiny little horns, and immense ears for a creature it’s sized. Knives were strapped across it’s body, and leather breeches were all it wore. It looked small, even for…

Rivi gasped, nearly dropping his Colormaster. “The Divines!”

“What?” Argos gripped Rivi’s arm to steady him, easing him back from the railing. “Careful, Spots!”

Rivi couldn’t even form worlds. His brain and belly alike were a mass of tangled excitement and confusion. He quickly lifted his camera, snapping several pictures in a row of the dancing creature. “A-A-Ar-Argos!” The cheetah was nearly hyperventilating. “It’s one of the Divines!”

Argos blinked at him. “What, that urd’thin kid?” Then recognition dawned on his face, his ears up. “Oh, right. You did say you called them the Divine people.”

“Kid?” Rivi blinked. “No, that’s…” He trailed off, his ears drooping slightly. “You’re right, of course. It’s an urd’thin child. It couldn’t actually be him.”

Argos tilted his head. “What are you talking about?” Then, before Rivi could answer, Argos went on. “Oh, wait. Is one of your people’s Divines represented by a child, or something?”

Rivi offered the coyote a sheepish giggle. “Yes. The Divine of Song and Star. In fact, he once stood opposed to the Divine of Sand and Smoke. Long, long before our world was made. But…” Rivi stared down at the camera in his hands, his ears warming. Don’t be a fool, Rivi. “Of course, you wouldn’t see the Divines through the Fracture.” He chuckled to himself. “Only the holiest and most venerated of saints and bishops have ever glimpsed a true Divine, through a fracture. That certainly is not me.”

“Says who?” Argos tucked the camera under his arm, then gently grasped Rivi’s shoulder.

“The Church,” Rivi said, chuckling a little. “I appreciate what you’re probably about to say, but it’s a matter of blessedness. Of veneration. The Divines wouldn’t appear through a fracture to just anyone, you know. As fond as you may be of me…” He flashed the coyote a shy smile. “In terms of holiness, I’m basically a nobody.”

Argos set the camera down. He took Rivi’s shoulders in his hands. “Rivi, you’re literally on a pilgrimage. Who the fuck else are they gonna appear to?”

Rivi’s ears set back. He hadn’t actually considered that. “But, even so…I’m-”

“You’re a devout believer, that’s what you are.” Argos smiled at him, squeezing his arms gently. “You think all those saints you mentioned were born famous? Saints become saints because of their actions, or because of what they see. What they experience. Spots, you’re a genuine disciple of all your Church preaches, for good, and for ill. You’re on a pilgrimage, right now, for your Church. And you’re going to publish a book, for your people, to show them what you saw.” He thrust a finger towards the fracture, where the urd’thin child danced and played atop the dunes. “Including that.”

Rivi turned his head, watching the urd’thin pirouette across the sand. Dust whirls followed in his wake. “But everyone can see him…”

“So what?” Argos grinned, wagging his tail. “That just makes it easier to prove you ain’t makin’ it up.”

Rivi swallowed. “You don’t…” He glanced from the Fracture to the coyote, and back again. “Actually think that’s truly the Divine of Star and Song…” His breath caught in his throat. It couldn’t be. “Do you?”

The coyote chuckled. “Spots, until a minute ago, I ain’t never even heard of no Divine of Star and Song. I should make it clear, I don’t believe what you believe. Fact of the matter is, I don’t believe in a whole hell of a lot of kinda thing. But that don’t mean I disbelieve it, either. I’m just telling you, that if you believe it, then I believe you.” He lifted a hand, and gently poked Rivi’s nose. “Far as I see it, if any of that stuff’s true? Then there ain’t no reason at all why they wouldn’t appear to you.”

Blue flashed in the corner’s of Rivi’s eye as a fresh burst of Ethereal Blue cascaded across the second Fracture. It took was cut into tiny fragments, all of which reflected something new. Rivi’s eyes darted from Argos’s face, to the dancing urd’thin child. The image wouldn’t be there forever. And he’d already taken photographs of it. Rivi wasn’t sure if Argos right, or not. In his head, he told himself of course it wasn’t a true Divine. The cheetah reminded himself that it was one of the Divine people, and that was still quite special. But, in his heart, he wondered. Maybe Argos was right. Why not him?

Because we’re impure, Rivi! Because we hold hands with a male coyote! Because we want to kiss him! The Divines don’t care about us, Rivi. The Divines would damn us, because we’re-

“Shut up, Rivi!” The cheetah snarled aloud. “We’re as worthy as anyone!”

“Damn right you are, Spots.” Argos stroked his arm again. “You show that self-doubt who’s the fucking boss.”

Rivi gave a sheepish little giggle, his ears flat. “I didn’t mean to say that outloud.” He took a slow, deep breath, and made a firm decision. “Argos, I don’t know if you’re right, or not. Nor do I know if that’s truly one of the Divines. My heart says it is, my head says it isn’t, and my soul says…” He pulled away from Argos, then went to the camera cases. “That it’s time to put silly notions aside.”

Argos tilted his head. “You alright, Spots?”

“Yes, Argos.” Rivi kept his voice as even as he could while he packed up his Colormaster. “I think I’ve taken enough photographs today.”

“Do…” Argos held the other camera up. “You want me to keep taking some for you?”

Rivi shook his head. He rose, and pointed to the camera case. “Put it away, please.”

Argos flattened his ears. He did as Rivi asked, but glanced up at the cheetah. “Is something wrong, Spots?”

“Yes, something’s wrong.” Rivi moved back to the railing, putting his hands again. He stared out at the Fractures, and all the wondrous things they showed. “Please come here when you’re done.”

“Spots, if…” Argos locked up the case, then rose to his feet. “If I said something wrong, or something offense, I’m really sorry. Tell me what it was, so I can be sure not to say it again.”

A hint of guilt tugged at Rivi’s heart. He glanced back at the coyote, struggling to keep his voice steady. “No, Argos. You’ve done nothing wrong. Please join me.”

“If you say so.” Argos walked over to the railing. He leaned against it, his tail swishing. For a few moments, the two of them simply stared out at the Fractures. “Beautiful now, isn’t it?”

Rivi turned his gaze upwards, staring at the coyote while he answered. “Yes. Incredibly so.” He swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, Argos. I’m afraid I’m devious.”

“You are, huh?” Argos glanced down at him, his ears half-flat. “In what way?”

“I’ve told you something is wrong, but I haven’t told you what.” Rivi straightened up, clasping his hands before himself. “Do you know what I realized, just now?”

Argos rubbed his muzzle. A hint of nervousness trembled in his voice. “I’m hoping you’re gonna tell me.”

“I’ve realized…” Rivi unclasped his hands, a smile slowly parting his muzzle. “That I’ve been spending too much time, doing entirely the wrong thing, today. I’ve been so focused on my photography, I haven’t even realized it.”

Argos tilted his head. “What are you talking about, Spots?”

“This book I’m going to write?” Rivi waved his hand. “I can put every photograph I just took, of that urd’thin in it. And I doubt one person would ever believe it was truly a divine. Especially if they knew I was impure! They’d never even conceive that a Divine might deign to appear before someone so blatantly impure. I don’t blame them, of course…” The cheetah shrugged. “I don’t even believe it.” Rivi’s voice trembled. Suddenly, his throat tightened. Every word was a struggle. Tears flooded his eyes. “But you believed it. You, who don’t even believe in the Church. You, who wear your impurity like a badge of honor. You, who look at me and see only goodness. You, Argos, believed the impossible. And you wanted me to believe it, too. That of all the people in the world, the Divines might appear before me.”

Argos swallowed, his voice growing hoarse. “I do believe that, Rivi. I don’t gotta follow your faith to know that if there’s anyone in this fucked up world who deserves to glimpse their beloved gods, it’s you.”

“Thank you, Argos.” Rivi wiped his eyes. “Thank you. That…made me realize that, I’ve been focused on all the wrong things today. That I shouldn’t look at this…” Rivi waved his hand at it. “And think about sharing it with all the people who wouldn’t believe in me. Who don’t care about me. I should be sharing this, with the one person who does. With you, Argos.” 

“Damn, Spots.” Argos sniffled a little. “You’re gonna make me tear up.” He wiped his own eyes. “Well, even more, I guess.”

“Argos, I’d like to ask you something.” Rivi took a shaking breath, turning towards the coyote. “It may foolish to you, but it is…” He licked his muzzle, still fighting for words. “Meaningful, to me.”

The coyote nodded once. “Of course.”

Rivi lifted his hands, staring at his golden gloves. Then he slowly, and deliberately, removed his left glove. The air was cold against his bare hands, and exposed pads. He tucked the glove into his pocket, and then turned his hand over, until his gray pads were upturned. Ever so hesitantly, he offered his hand to the coyote. His fingers trembled.

“Argos,” Rivi said, his voice a crumbling whisper. “Will you hold my hand?”

Argos sniffed again. “It would be my goddamned honor, Spots.” 

The coyote closed his hand around Rivi’s, their fingers entwined. Their pads pressed together, warm and intimate. Though they’d held hands earlier, this was very different. Rivi’s racing heart thundered, slamming against his sternum. He wondered if Argos even understood the magnitude of what they’d just done. Had they been courting, this would have made it official. Rivi giggled ever so softly. Who are we kidding, Rivi?

We’re courting him, and he knows it as well as we do.

Holding Argos’s hand in his, Rivi turned back towards the railing. The urd’thin pup still danced on the sands, happy as could be. The other fractures were all different, now. Beautiful and otherworldly scenes played out before him, and though Rivi was surrounded by strangers, all at once he felt as if the impossible view was something he shared only with Argos.

“Now, Argos,” Rivi said. He cuddled up against the coyote’s arm, and laid his head upon Argos’s shoulder, their fingers still entwined. “Now, nothing is wrong.” Rivi smiled. The cheetah had waited half his life to see the Fractures, and suddenly, they weren’t even the best part of the moment. “Nothing at all.”