When Kaskara found her and told her about Quires offer, the world being Acre Seven was drifting along the edge of the twilight mirage with lackadaisical curiosity, awaiting the bright arrival of something great, a link in a chain, she thought, or a sort of bridge, perhaps. But whatever was en route was less interesting than her old commander's words.

Kaskara had always had a knack for finding Acre Seven. Whenever she disappeared on assignment,

Kaskara had found her. Whenever she was caught in a loop of causal

siphoning, Kaskara had freed her. And in fact, it was Kaskara who had located her among the researchers of the ever forward soon after the death of her adored potent.

She had been like a ghost in plain day then,

an apparition haunting the scientists,

not keen to the periphery, but insisting on being seen,

a silent demand that they too grieve for what they'd lost.

It was Kaskara who had convinced Acre Seven that even now, even as the sliver of the being she

once was, she had purpose and value, and that to serve those

that the potent did would be to honor her old lover.

What Acre seven never told Kaskara, of course, was that her recruitment effort was no effort at all, but inevitability.

Time, after all, was Acre Seven's purview, and no mortal being like Kaskara could ever convince

her to pursue something that was not already one to occur.

Still, though determined by time or not,

Kaskara was always the one to find her.

Which is why Acre Seven should not have been surprised that she'd found her again.

But this time was different.

She had not seen her commander's arrival and there was something strange yet newly familiar in the visage of her old friend.

Most surprising of all though was that for once Acre Seven had not expected

Casgara's words. Choir was not only wounded, she said, it was dying.

And it had a proposal for its kin. Welcome to Friends of the Table and Actual Play Podcast focused on Critical World Building, Smart and fun interaction between good friends.

...