Chapter 9: BELONGING


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    Crowds gather to worship at the feet of the Jingozi, enthralled by their sermons and wonders. Their teachings spread like wildfire through our cities, imploring us to join them. But I have seen behind their beneficent smiles. I record these words so the truth may outlive their illusions.


    ***


    "The vessel retreats to darkness rather quickly," the Jingozi''s voice rasped like dead leaves.


    Cragmarr''s four arms remained still at his sides, his orange marble eyes fixed on Ember''s diminishing shape along the riverbed.


    He grunted.


    "She is ready."


    "The Ninja faction." The Jingozi''s bony, metal-lined fingers clicked against each other. "Not what we anticipated."


    Cragmarr kept his insights and doubts locked away. Throughout his experience, only a few vessels selected paths that matched their source beings. Such alignment offered clear benefits, merging both dimensions'' wisdom and instinctive game mastery. Though Ember''s selection of the Ninja path might have mirrored her character, some unseen force had guided her choice. Typically, vessels retained only their most haunting recollections—like her flight to freedom. Yet she possessed additional fragments of her vessel''s past life, suggesting machinations beyond his current understanding.


    "She chose her faction wisely," he told a half-truth. "Her reasons differ from the others."


    The Jingozi''s mask tilted.


    "Like Marcus?"


    Clay shifted across Cragmarr''s shoulders as he stood straighter.


    "Ember seeks belonging, not power. She will win."


    "Such conviction." Black tendrils writhed beneath its cloak. "Remember what awaits you if she succeeds."


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    "She is special." Cragmarr''s voice remained steady, unwavering. "The tournament will prove it."


    The Jingozi''s mask drifted closer to Cragmarr''s face. Rainbow lights from its eye sockets cast patterns across his clay surface.


    "You shield something from us, Golem."


    Cragmarr''s four hands clenched.


    "I serve the Jingozi. My purpose remains clear."


    "Does it?" Black smoke curled around Cragmarr''s feet. "Your clay betrays your thoughts."


    Cragmarr kept his gaze fixed on the darkening horizon where Ember disappeared. The Blood Strike spell card came to mind, troubling him more than he revealed. He''d never witnessed such raw power manifest so early in a century of guiding vessels. Along with her memories, the card''s surprise appearance defied the natural progression of the tournament.


    The faces of his past charges flashed through his mind.


    Marcus was torn apart by a champion card he wasn''t ready to wield. Lizzy, whose body gave out during the trials. Ajack, who stepped into an arena far beyond his skill level. Each death etched deeper into Cragmarr''s clay, marking him with failure.


    But Ember''s new card—it wasn''t just powerful. It was different—a hybrid. Was it a gift? If so, from where? He had suspicions, but he dared not even think it in the presence of the Jingozi. They, with their vast tournament mechanics, seemed unaware of its existence. If they were, this encounter would be different… much different.


    It further spoke of something outside of even their control.


    "Your silence grows heavy," the Jingozi hissed.


    Cragmarr''s clay stiffened as he turned to face the Jingozi.


    "My loyalty comes with rewards for you as well. Her victory benefits us both."


    "Indeed." The Jingozi''s mask gleamed. "But take heed, Golem—betray us, and your kin will suffer like never before."


    The threat scraped against Cragmarr''s core. His four hands flexed.


    "I must speak with the Golem faction. They will watch over her progress."


    "Already complete." Rainbow lights danced in the goat skull mask''s sockets. "They understand their role. By night, they observe and respect the trials. By day..." Black smoke curled into claws. "They kill if the opportunity arises."


    Clay cracked along Cragmarr''s shoulders.


    "And the dark elf tribes." The Jingozi''s voice dropped lower. "Their bounty hunters track her now. A fine price on her head."


    "They wield Jingozi cards," Cragmarr paused, letting the implications sink in.


    "I am aware, Golem."


    "The trials are meant to test, not destroy."


    "Maximum pressure forges the strongest weapons. If she cannot survive this..." The mask tilted. "She was never worthy of the crucible, whether she finds your misguided sense of belonging or not."


    Rage boiled through Cragmarr''s mind, but he kept his voice level.


    "As you command."


    He turned away, each step measured despite the fury coursing through him. Behind him, the Jingozi''s laughter rattled like bones in a tomb.


    ***


    When future generations unearth these writings, let them know we were not blind. We saw the noose of alien influence tightening. It is my last hope that you, who find these records, shall not repeat our complacency. Remember our warnings and let them guide you toward freedom—and victory.