"Void Hunters are association-bound individuals," Charishe said, twirling her skewer like a pointer, "registered under a local ledger and authorized neutral faction to take requests, missions, recovery jobs, bounty dispatches, and information gathering. They also defend the bastion they're stationed in!
"Not that I participate in all of that often." Charishe shrugged with a grin. "I'm a cook. Forager. Idea generator, and I prefer it that way."
Kivas clapped her hands together. "So, like adventurers!"
"Exactly!" Charishe pointed at her with triumphant joy. "You get it! That's the perfect word for it. I've been calling them that too, but nobody ever clicks with it! Wait—wait—Kivas, do video games exist in your world?"
"Of course they do!" Kivas practically beamed. "I've spent a quarter of my miserable years grinding dungeons and optimizing loot routes as a way to procrastinate!"
Charishe staggered back with an exaggerated gasp and dropped her skewer onto a nearby crate. "Fifty years! I've lived in this chaos pit for fifty years and never met anyone who knew what a video game was! Finally! A cultured soul! Someone who understands!"
Voille tilted their head slightly, resting one elbow on their knee. "Congratulations, Charishe, you finally have someone to share your weird obsession with now."
"Can you believe it?" Charishe was pacing now, energized. "No one here knows what the internet is. Not even basic online databases. No memes. No livestreams. And this one right here—" she pointed toward Voille, "comes from a world where science wasn't even a publicly accepted concept!"
Voille didn't look remotely offended. "Ranching. Farming. Daily meals. Seasonal festivals. It was peaceful. Science sounds great but doesn't sound necessary."
"That's quite interesting," Kivas said, trying to imagine a world that primitive. "Were there at least books?"
"There were goats," Voille answered. "They produce milk. Milk is good."
Kivas glanced at Samael, her curiosity flaring again. "Is this how it is for most people in Fathomi? Everyone here used to have a former life, alongside their old memories?"
Samael shifted her gaze across the bustle beyond the gate. "Most of them did. The majority of inhabitants are drawn in through soul drift, fractured timelines, failed worlds, or divine error.
"Those with anchored identity survive the passage. The rest vanish or mutate and become nonrational."
"Ehe~ Regardless! I'm finally glad that I grilled those Blood Cakes. It brings me a kindred from a different side—"
Charishe threw an arm around Kivas's shoulder, her sudden movement met with a quiet intercept—Samael's hand closing around her wrist.
The air thickened slightly.
Charishe glanced at the pale fingers gripping her arm and raised an eyebrow.
Samael's smile was eerie, gentle in a way that made it hard to tell if she was joking. "Kivas can be a little sensitive to being touched by strangers. Better not carelessly attempt a skinship."
Kivas tilted her head, expression neutral. "I'm not."
"You are."
"I'm really not."
"You flinch."
Charishe grinned, slipped her hand away, and tapped her chin in thought. "Interesting. What exactly is the relationship between you two?"
"Soulmates," Kivas said brightly.
"I own her," Samael replied at the same time.
"Oh, romantic," Charishe laughed. "A possessive yandere, protecting her dorky wife. That's the good stuff." She nodded with a rather perverted expression.
Voille observed quietly, her tone even. "You seem headstrong, Samael."
Samael didn't reply, her smile holding like a lingering thought.
Charishe spun on her heel and waved toward the interior of the bastion. "Anywho, come on! You've seen the gates, the walls, and all the boring stuff. Time to see the soul of Solvish Keep!"
As both Kivas and Samael were being dragged around for a tour, they waved to the tall wendigo. Voille offered a parting nod, and adorably waved back.
The inner keep revealed itself as they crossed through the open gate.
From the inside, the walls curved inward slightly, constructed from a blend of living wood and reinforced crystal lattice. Lanterns hovered midair at intervals, flickering with green fire, shedding a faint warmth that repelled anomalies residue.
Humanoid entities of all sorts moved about—scaled, horned, furred, and limbless. Some rode beasts of unknown lineage. Others floated slightly above the ground, trailing cloth and essence like smoke. Most nodded in passing, recognizing Charishe and appraising the new arrivals with cautious interest.
"The whole place is built like a nest," Charishe said, gesturing around. "We've got a builder camp over there, crafting and structure repair. They keep everything standing when the ground decides to breathe sideways."
"Nice side job you got there, Charishe. Why not help us plan the new building today?"
"Sorry, folks, I'm escorting a noble vagabond here. My current task is a priority."
A playful whistle could be heard as Charishe bickered back and forth with the people of the builder camp.
Kivas admired the camp's massive skeletal scaffolding, with workers balancing on bone spires, welding glowing seams of material together.
And then they moved on to the next.
"And that's the inn." Charishe pointed again. A spiraled building with layered balconies and hollowed rooms came into view. "They give free accommodation to new-faced vagabonds until you can help the bastion around Can get free food too! Just, don't sleep there after eating hallucinogenic mushrooms."
"So you're saying that I should try sleeping once after eating a hallucinogenic mushroom," Kivas nodded.
"Pretty sure that you're not meant to do that," Samael said with sarcasm.
A group of masked individuals passed by, carrying heavy crates shaped like oversized puzzle-boxes.
Charishe waved at them without pausing, and they also waved back with a word.
It sure did feel like a close-knit community.
The next structure, albeit still quite far from where they were, caught Kivas' attention immediately.
A dome with arched windows, coated in bone-white carvings, stood to the side. Glyphs pulsed faintly along its shell, resembling veins in pale skin.
Statues stood at the entry—beings with open arms and no faces.
"That's our church," Charishe said. "Healing, blessings, minor resurrection services, guidance from spirit-bound clergy. As long as your soul or body's mostly intact, they can patch you up!"
Kivas raised a brow. "Huh, I wonder why you aren't introducing it when we got there."
Charishe leaned in, voice hushed. "I'm not exactly on good terms with one of the priests. You see, there is this one annoying and dumb bitch called Lyenar—"
Just as she said that, a tall figure appeared behind her.
She had long black hair swept into a tight braid, a deep scar trailing across one eye. Her robes were ceremonial but practical, with soul-runes stitched into the hem.
Her presence definitely carried authority, subtle and immediate.
"Whispering to newcomers in public is hardly polite," she said.
Charishe jumped slightly, then groaned. "Ugh. Speak of the self-righteous skull-face."
Lyenar grinned with distaste. "Still an annoying little brat, I see."
"You're the one who excommunicated me for singing during the ritual, asshole!"
"You replaced the benediction with a limerick about mitochondria, in the form of a song!"
"It was catchy."
Their exchange held no venom. Kivas watched them bicker like old roommates rather than rivals. After a few minutes, the tour moved on.
Samael leaned toward Kivas. "Still wondering if everyone's human?"
Kivas scanned the crowds—winged merchants, eyeless blacksmiths, a centauric librarian adjusting scroll-saddle pouches.
"I mean… yeah."
Samael gave a small nod. "I told you already. Most of them are. It's just what form intelligence gravitates toward. That fish man wasn't an outlier. He was an example."
"Well, thank god that I didn't commit cannibalism back then."
"I wouldn't thank the god here if I were you."
"Do you think that those eldritch gods will hear?"
"Who knows~"
After another walk, they reached a larger, more fortified building. Twin doors carved with branching paths and hunter sigils marked the entrance.
A sign above read: Void Hunter Guild – Solvish Chapter.
The interior held rows of bulletin boards and multiple desks filled with receptionists.
There were tables made of petrified wood, and racks of bizarre equipment. A few individuals lingered—each bearing armor or robes that shimmered unnaturally. One wore a helmet with insectile limbs protruding from the neck. Another adjusted a gauntlet that breathed fire occasionally.
"This," Charishe said, stepping into the middle of the hall, "is where the brave gather. Or the stupid. Or the broke. All kinds of fellas, actually."
Kivas spun slowly, absorbing the strange, rugged energy of the place.
The people inside didn't seem to mind the duo and Charishe' eccentricity.
There weren't any hostility, but there weren't many that were curious about Kivas and Samael either.
"Since you survived Vaingall and walked out fully geared, you're pretty much a certified badass," Charishe said. "A Shotgun. Mask. Daggers. Wrap. You're halfway to being registered already!"
"That's not how registering works," Samael quipped.
Kivas grinned. "What do you get from registering?"
Charishe held up her fingers. "Information. Maps. Strategic data. Priority shelter. Disarmed Curios, Resurrection failsafes. You name it! By joining the Void Hunter Association, you're joining the ranks of power who sides with humanity~!
"And humanity rewards loyalty." She folded her arms, her grin widening. "You side with humanity, and humanity sides with you."