Chapter Text
The sun began to rise.
The sun began to rise.
The sun began to rise.
The sun—
After the fourth successive sunrise in a row, Taako whipped out his stone of far speech and called his sister.
Lup dropped into a spin kick and her spurs caught the arm of a man who tried to grab her by the ankle. Some of the dealers rushed to tip over the table, but she swung her scythe with the rest of her momentum, cutting them down easily. She leapt from the table to a chair, kicking the back of it down and taking a swing at another row of card players. She barely dodged a barrage of beer bottles flying towards her, when her stone of farspeech received a message.
“Go for Lup,” she replied, giving it a tap.
“Hey,” Taako said, on the other end. “Have you...taken a gander outside yet?”
Lup whacked a cultist on the head with the heavy handle of her scythe. “Nope, not since I came here. Why?”
“Well, when you get the chance, have a look. Cause funky time shit is happening.”
Lup glanced out a nearby window, and low and behold, not only was the sky moving in reverse, but so were many of the people bustling around the street. “Aw, fuck.”
“Yeah, that’s what I said,” Taako muttered on his side. “I haven’t heard from Nerd Boyfriends™ yet, but I’m sure they’re probably seeing it too.”
A man screamed, as a chair that Lup had hooked her blade into was sent flying across the room, colliding with his back.
Taako continued, “Brewery owner dude was here, with a friend.”
“No way,” Lup replied. At this point, the last of the surviving cultists were trying to escape the room, but Lup cast Force Cage, trapping a large number of them within range, and simultaneously blocking the exit for the rest. She ambled towards them casually, slinging her weapon over her shoulder.
“Yeah. I took out his friend,” Taako said. “But the sonofabitch got away. Any clue where he might’ve slipped to?”
Lup heard a shuffling noise coming from above. She glanced at the ceiling, then over to a conspicuous set of stairs on the far side of the room.
“I might have an idea,” She said—then gave a final, decisive swing.
Barry, having cast Eyebite successfully, rendered the hellhound utterly frightened. The large, cursed creature howled and backed into one of the corners. The attackers crowding around Barry took this as a bad sign and immediately attempted to back out the door.
“Nope,” Barry said, sounding strangely echoey. He pointed a hand at the top of the stairs, and a dark cloud of necromantic energy manifested and rolled down the steps. The moment the group became engulfed in it, they fell to their hands and knees and gasped for air like fish out of water. The hellhound howled again, its voice echoing through the room, before dispersing from this plane altogether.
Barry’s eyes blinked rapidly, slowly losing their vacantness. Balancing against the one shelf that he hadn’t been thrown into, his gaze fell on the body of Rusty Doads. The light above flickered on and off rapidly, skewing his vision. He could make out that the body was lying there on the table. But a second later it was not lying there. And maybe for a few seconds, it was sitting up? But then it wasn’t.
Just as he was about to cross the room to inspect it, he heard a sound from the doorway. Looking up, he saw the same group of people hurrying down the stairs, passing through the versions of themselves that were still gasping on the floor, unfazed. Barry stepped back and watched them search around the room for some unseen thing. He saw more and more of the people, moving about and through each other, as if they were reliving various moments in time. The room filled with faint noises of people talking or shouting or gasping.
Taking the hint that funky time shit was happening, he summoned his scythe and cut open a portal to the outside.
The sun began to rise. Then fall. Then another sun rose beside it. Then they fell and rose together.
Birds circling overhead began to fly in erratic, repeating patterns.The shifting of the shadows caught Kravitiz’s eyes, and that’s when he noticed that the time of day was changing. The clouds rolled back and forth, redoing and undoing their usual weather patterns. On the ground, faint outlines of movement began to occur. Wagons that were parked were beginning to move around. Plants withered and regrew. Folks who had previously meandered out of buildings began to rush inside in continuous, replicating lines.
The people of Refuge took one look at the sky above them and the after images of the confrontation going on around them, and collectively yelled, “NOT A-FUCKING-GAIN!”
One horse drawn wagon came roaring onto the main street. The horses were being driven so fast, they nearly careened the whole thing. They turned the corner and went down another road. At the helm was Pirithin, a look of mania on her face, and a pair decked out binoculars tied around her neck. From the back of the wagon came a scream, a familiar voice—that of Pattie Doads.
Kravitz was about to snap the reins of his horse again, when a portal ripped open before him and Barry stumbled out. The latter took a passing glance at the former, and then at the confusing state around them.
“I guess my calculations were a bit off,” He said, looking up at Kravitz with a sheepish half-grin.
“Probably,” Kravitz replied, smirking just a little. “But considering we might be experiencing a bit of a paradox, you’re probably right as well.” He gestured down the street. “I just saw the wagon with Pirithin and Pattie whizz by, most likely towards the temple. Any sign of Rusty’s body?”
“I saw it in a hideaway near here. Some of the men from the cult must have whisked it away in an attempt to prevent all this from happening,” Barry said. He whistled for his horse, and the mare trotted towards him through the dizzying view. The man pulled himself into the saddle. “But to be honest, I don’t think that’s the version of Doads we need to keep an eye on.”
The two of them took off down the road towards the Temple of Istus, dodging out of the way of images of scattered timelines.
“What do you mean versions?” Kravitz asked. Barry pointed to a spot outside the Bank of Refuge. There they saw a different version of Rusty Doads. This one getting assaulted by a group of cult members outside the front steps of the bank. Further down was another Rusty, being shot through by an arrow, from a member hiding covertly on one of the building rooftops.
“The timing may be off,” Barry said. “But the death record for our plane is probably going to remain consistent. The longer we take to find him, the more versions of Doads will appear.”
Kravitz remembered what the record book had said about Doads the day he had taken up the case: Bullet wound to the heart, his body found in Refuge, not too far away from the Temple of Istus. He dug his spurs into his skeleton horse’s nonexistent hide, rapidly increasing its pace. “Our version going to get shot point blank,” he called back to Barry, who had also raised his horse to a gallop. “We need to be there when it happens.”
Suns are rising three or four at a time. They are rising in lines, they are rising in rows—
A rip in space appeared before Taako. He eagerly tossed his bag of holding into a pocket dimension and jumped through, umbrastaff aimed straight ahead.
The group of cultists had, for the most part, been dispatched. Tables and chairs were knocked over. Cards and game tokens were scattered everywhere. Tipped pint glasses of beer lay broken and messy on the floor. There was also, just generally, fire everywhere.
Taako put a hand on his hip. “You couldn’t save some fun for me, could ya?”
“There’s still stragglers,” Lup said, bringing her blade down on one last foe. “I think some of them managed to slip by me and make it up stairs. Have a look for me?”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Taako said, having already turned toward the staircase. This part of the room was largely unlit, but that left his darkvision unaffected. At the top of the stairs, something caught his eye. “Hey Lulu, come check this shit out,” he called.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Lup said, trailing close behind him.
They could see old photos and strange runes decorating the wall of the hall. There were also pipes lining the ceiling, possibly to help channel the fumes from the fermented air of the brewery kettles. A door that looked like it lead to an office space was slightly opened. From within came the sound of voices.
The twins glanced at each other, then doused the lights. Lup stepped forward, careful not to make a sound.
At the far end stood an ominous shrine of some sort. There was a small marble carving of a woman, the base of which was surrounded by a crown of thorns. Her long gown was painted black, and in her outstretched arms was a ragged whip. There was a cold and unkind feeling emanating from the statuette. Taako made a face at it, and Lup had to clasp her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.
They turned the corner and entered what looked to be a large office space. Just as the last of Cameron’s men leap through an open portal.
They heard a shuffling sound, then noticed a faint flash of light. Taako barely had a chance to pop open the umbrastaff before a weak but sharp spell was fired off at them. The umbrastaff turned outward and swallowed the spell whole, shaking as it absorbed the raw magic.
Lup lit a flame in her palm, casting the room in a warm glow. Cameron, the half orc man, looked up at them from a few meters away. He leaned painfully against a large oak desk, holding his side awkwardly. There was desperation on his face.
“Piri sent y’all to kill me?” He asked roughly. And there was a familiar clinking noise as he spoke. The sound of coins rattling to the ground momentarily caught Taako’s attention.
“We’re after her too,” Lup said. “But we came to get a particular item first.”
Cameron attempted to straighten. “You’re too late then. She done already lit outta here through a dimension door not less than half an hour ago. Took a nasty strike from her. Just sent some of men after her, not that it'll make a difference.”
“Was her daughter with her?” Lup demanded.
“I ain’t bothered to notice,” he said.
“Tell me,” Lup asked, pointing the tip of her scythe at his face. “Why did you attack the Doads Ranch? And why did you kill Rusty?”
Cameron gave her grisly grin. “Had my eyes on that land for ages. Tried scaring them off with threats and harassment. Thought we could out-power them. Then his missus came barging in--defeated our cleric outta nowhere. One of our own, you hear me? Next day I sent my men to kill Doads when he was away in Refuge. But I didn’t know that spell on him she casted would render him unliving.”
“Unliving,” Lup murmured. She’d talk to Barry about that later.
Cameron continued. “Then came Ole Piri, threatening my head off if I didn’t give her the means to get him back. Almost sabotaged this beautiful brewery of mine. Had to respect her in a way, she’s cut out to spread misfortune.”
“The means?” Taako asked. “I heard of playing the long con, my man, but what gives?”
“The seer’s spectacles. Had ‘em in that old pawn shop I bought a few years back. Got the deed from her that way. But they were just to find Rusty’s soul, not enough to bring him back. She’d need more magic.” He said, once again grabbing his side. “I told her I’d give her that, if she came round here tonight and played the game with me. A wish for a wish. A spell for a spell.”
“Curse for curse, you mean,” Lup said, evenly. “What was yours?”
“I said I wanted...to taste all the riches that this world had to offer.” He coughed, and a gold coin suddenly falls from his mouth. Lup and Taako’s brows rose in surprise. He coughed again, and a ruby falls to the ground.
“Damn fella,” Taako said, taking no qualms in bending down and inspecting the ruby. “It wouldn’t kill you boys to use a little more specificity?”
Cameron pounded a fist against the desk. “And limit the creativity of the welder? Ungrateful wretch, this is an art! Our spells are blessed by the Lady Doom herself, imbued with a power you can’t fathom. We of the Misfortunate take all maladies with pride. We accept it in its many forms.” His eyes took on a haunting glaze.
“Yeah?” Taako said, planting a hand on his hip. “My cooking is art, but as least I keep a measurements and recipes so I don’t fuck shit up, asshole.”
“What was her wish?” Lup asked, finding herself done with the conversation.
“To…” Cameron’s legs gave out from under him, and his hand falls from his side. He clattered ungracefully on the floor, coughing more precious stones as he does. There was blood on his hands and it was now clear that there was a large gash on his side. Even more gold coins appeared, these were bloodied from his injury. Taako lurched, realizing that they were coming out of the man’s midsection.
“What was her wish?” Lup asked again, hold up her blade. There’s something so rueful in his eyes that it turned her stomach. His head slumped forward.
“She asked for more time…” And here, the light in his eyes started to fade. “...She asked for all the time in the world.”
The suns begin—the suns begin—the suns are rising rising rising—beginning beginning—the su—
In front of the Temple of Istus a wagon stopped. There were quite a few wagons moving to and fro due to the converging timelines, but this one was of particular significance. Pirithin hopped out of the driver’s seat and put the seers spectacles over her eyes. She walked a short perimeter and kept adjusting the dials on the sides until she found one timeline that seemed to satisfy her suspicions.
“It’s here,” she said in a breathy voice. She crossed a line of dirt in the sand with her foot. “He’s here.”
She ran towards the wagon, and there followed was the sound of scuffling. She shortly reemerged, holding Pattie in tow, the girl’s arms tied behind her back. The two women wrestled against each other, making it difficult to get both pairs of feet planted on the ground. But somehow, Pirithin managed. She forced Pattie to her knees, and pulled a short wand from her waist belt. Pointing the wand towards the continuously shifting heavens, Pirithin glared down at her own daughter.
"Make a wish!” She demanded. "Wish for his return!"
“Ma, no!” Pattie screamed.
“A soul, a soul! A spell, a spell!”
“Ma, please!”
Pirithin’s eyes were frenzied, her breath—rushed and seething. Her hand holding the wand lowered and aimed at Pattie’s face. “Those bastards! They took Rusty’s life, they took his land, and they fucking took the grace from him to die! If you want him back so badly, then wish!”
The paper thin edge of a reaper’s scythe appeared at her neck. Pirithin let go of her daughter’s arm, and stood stock still as Kravitz—skeleton face and feathered cowl in tow—leaned over her like an ice cold shadow. Pattie scooted a few feet away, face drenched in tears. Barry came up and cut the rope that bound her hands. He helped her to her feet.
A rift cut open near the group of four and Taako and Lup jumped through. The twins took note of the fray around them and the standstill happening before them.
“Glad to see you guys have everything under control!” Taako piped up.
“Uh, yeah,” Barry said, unable to match the elf’s ability to make light of the situation. “You guys...got your end cleared up?”
“Hell yeah, babe,” Lup said. “We figured out why time's gotten all funky. Other than that, we definitely took care of the cult.”
“And we definitely didn’t loot a corpse full of money!” Taako said.
Kravitz put a mental pin in that last response to ask about later. But not until he was ready to bear the consequences of the answer.
“A-are you gotta take her?” Pattie asked, voice trembling. Her eyes were fixed on Kravitz, on his scythe, on her mother. Everyone’s eyes fell on the two of them. Pirithin still looked manic. Her body was trembling, her eyes flickering from one face to the next—as if she would lash out again if given the chance.
Kravitz’s eyes moved from her to the thousands of people caught in the loops, playing out their lives in a single moment, and he was almost transfixed by it. It’s similar to the feeling he got when gazing out at the sea of souls in the astral plane. But instead of placid serenity, this was bustling cacophony. Life condensing into unfettered extremes.
“Later,” he exclaimed, his voice rising over the sound. He waved a hand and a set of black handcuffs appeared around Pirithin’s wrists. She fell to her knees, weighed down by a binding spell. “Our first priority is to take care of this mess.”
Around them, timelines were converging at a faster and faster pace. The street churned with the sound of wagons and steeds and people, following the routines that had been set in place over the course of decades. The reapers, wizard, and two farm women were quickly being forced into a tight circle to avoid all the traffic around them. Gunshots and arrows and spells whizzed past their heads. There was a pressurized feeling, as if their timeline was straining under the weight of it all.
“Wasn’t there an item that could pause all this?” Lup shouted over the noise.
“Oh right!” Taako exclaimed. He waved a hand and the pocket dimension he had stowed away opened up. He grabbed his bag of holding and pulled from it the small, gun-like device. “The...photobomb or whatever!”
“The snapshot!” Barry yelled. “Aim it at Doads!”
Taako gestured his hands at the multiple Rusty Doads in action before them. “Which Doads?”
“The...” Kravitz started. There was so much dying and not dying going on around him that his instincts as a reaper seemed to all but fail him. The suns--there are so many suns rising now--they were blinding.
His eyes then fall on one version of Rusty, one who seemed to stand out from the crowd. His eyes were fixed on the reaper, fearful, but expectant. His many, many lives played out before him, but his death remained eminent. Constant.
Simple.
“That one!” Kravitz shouted, pointing.
Taako fires the shot, a ring of sound and light slips into the crowd. A ripple of magic bursts forth, and the timelines immediately start breaking apart. They flicker from hundreds to tens, to just a few, to one major timeline. The true showdown plays out like a film reel. Afterimages of Rusty leaving his wagon coalescence. A group of cultists charging towards him, colliding into one significant moment. One aims a simple pistol, and it rings out a familiar—but not too familiar—shot.
The bullet exits the barrel and flies straight at Rusty. As it comes within arm’s length of hitting his chest, its flight is paused by the tip of Kravitz’s scythe. Kravitz, in full reaper form, steps in front of Rusty and looks him in the eyes. Time around them stops. The afterimages slowly disappear, and there is just the man and The Reaper looking at each other eye to eye.
Rusty gulps—recognizing Kravitz instantly—and politely, if nervously, tips his hat.
“Do you know why I’m here?” Kravitz asks, voice even.
“You’ve come to take me away,” Rusty croaks. Kravitz nods, and Rusty looks down at his boots. He sighs. “It sure was something. To see all of my life in so many ways, in so many moments. Not many folks get a chance to experience it, I guess.”
Kravitz doesn’t say anything. Rusty glances around at the town. He takes off his hat and holds it in his trembling hands.
“Some real good work has been done around here. I remember back when Refuge was on its last legs, and when it was conjured for years in that bubble. I thought I’d never see the day when everyone here looked so happy. I want things to stay that way...everywhere.”
“We’ll take care of things,” Kravitz says, in about as comforting tone as he can provide for a bounty.
“Good on ya,” Rusty says, before he sets his hat back on. His eyes fall toward the other reapers. Toward Pirithin...and Pattie. They are all fixed in time, unable to reach him. The man smiles weakly and says “Oh, my dears...the cows will be coming back soon.”
Kravitz disappears. The bullet hits Rusty’s chest. He falls to the ground, lands on his back, and quickly dies.
The sun began to descend.
Back at the Doads ranch, Pattie led Taako towards the storage building, to let him sample some of their award winning jerky.
“I’m not a dried meat kinda guy myself,” he said, tagging behind her. “But if it’s as good as you say it is, then Taako™ might be willing to make an offer for distribution rights.”
The reaper squad stood out in the field, a short distance from the house. Their steeds were all trotting merrily and grazing through the wide, open land. In front of them sat Pirithin Doads, still shackled by the spell. Her eyes looked vacant, her face placid. There was a heavy feeling in the air..
“I don’t want to do this,” Lup said.
“Lup,” Barry said. He knew what she’s thinking.
Lup didn’t respond. She knew what he’s thinking.
“Our job,” Kravitz said, gently. “We have to capture the souls of the parties responsible for this mess, and that includes Rusty and his wife.”
“Fuck this,” Lup whispered, tugging down at the brim of her sombrero. Barry places a hand on her shoulder.
"I'll do it," he said.
Before the trio could talk the rest of it out, Pirithin’s eyes snapped to attention, and then clouded over with inky black. The scene around them shifted from beautiful green farmland, to an open white space. Barry and Lup summoned their scythes, experiencing a shrill of nervousness from the strange, interdimensional room. But Kravitz stood still, keeping his eyes on Pirithin.
Behind the bound woman, a figure manifested. This one tall, radiating ancient power. It took on the form similar to the statuette that Lup had seen deep in the boughs of the Redlock Brewery. This time dressed in more extravagant, dark garbs. Her white hair flowed over her pale shoulders like a thunderous waterfall. Two white wings, tipped with black feathers, emerged from her back and flapped elegantly. Her hands gripped tight around the handle of her whip.
Besheba stood before them.
“Death,” she said, her voice echoing slightly. Her words poured from her own mouth, as well as the mouth of Pirithin, who otherwise didn’t move.
“Doom,” Kravitz replied. He doesn’t bow to her like he would his own goddess. Lup and Barry are reminded of the fact that he is far older and set apart from either of them. This probably wasn’t his first encounter with other deities. Kravitz went on. “The woman you inhibit casted a spell that sent me and my partners on a bit of a turn. The Raven Queen will not have this.”
She smiled at him. “I never find boredom with little creatures running around pulling stunts like this.” There was something condescending in her voice.
Kravitz frowned. “For what purpose did you chose to settle here?”
“I thought I could rest a moment,” She ran a delicate hand through her hair. “My power weakened significantly since the Day of Story and Song. I required tribute from my loyal followers. Same as any god.”
“You call that tribute?” Lup said, speaking for the first time. Barry nervously glanced over at her. At first she looked surprised at herself, but then surged forward. “The little ‘game’ you let your followers play is incredibly dangerous!”
“It honors me just the same,” Beshaba crooned. “As much as I ache for the cosmic calamity that was the Hunger’s encroachment upon this plane, there is nothing I quite like more than tasting the raw meat of small, personal accounts of bad luck that befall mortals. It is a fun game, one of which I shall never tire.”
“The Hunger was nothing more than a glitch in the fantasy Matrix,” Lup said, rolling her eyes.
“Most deities don’t work on such a large scale,” Barry said, agreeing. “There wasn’t a balancing agent at the time.”
“Oh, we’re talking scales now?” Beshaba said, her voice rising to a sudden screech. She raised the hand holding the whip and cracked it furiously, and a bolt of lightening rippled above them. “Watch your tongue, reaper. I am the balancing agent. Against that which what is pure and light are judged. Without me to be compared to, we cannot assume what is ‘fortunate’, or ‘good,’ or ‘‘right.’ I am awful. I am unwanted. Ego Infortunii! ” With a brief flap of her wings, she seemed to calm down a bit. “But I am fair, and I am necessary. Just as you are.”
Kravitz gestured at Pirithin. “We will be taking this follower of yours into custody then.”
“Do what you want with her,” Beshaba said. She waved a dismissive hand. “She was tiresome anyway. More devoted to her slovenly husband and this arid patch of land than to me. I cannot stand it any longer.” She turned away from them, looking very put out the whole thing.
The trio of reapers made a silent prayer of thanks to the Raven Queen for her steadfast nature. Lup and Barry had spent lifetimes breaking her laws. Kravitz devoted himself to her, and even then he would bend the rules. Somehow they knew that no matter what, She would never abandon them like this.
“But wasn’t it fun?” Beshaba asked, looking over her shoulder.
“What?” Kravitz asked.
Beshaba grinned. “The fact that I had managed to elude you and your fellow reapers. If only for a short time. I’m sure that ruffled Her feathers quite a bit. Perhaps I’ll pay a visit to the Astral Plane, and see if she found the joke amusing personally.”
She started to giggle, but she was interrupted by another thunderous sound coming from far away.
“BESHABAAAAAA!!!!!” A voice echoed. All of them turned to see an interdimensional door appear. Not a second after, a large foot kicked it open, and barreling into the room was Lady Istus, Goddesss of Time and Fate. Her gorgeous face was absolutely seething. She stomped across the floor to Beshaba, her gown rippling like an ocean wave.
“Have any thoughts about...this!!” She conjured her scarf of fate. The part she held looked neat and evenly knitted, but below that was a large chunk that looked absolutely tangled and knotted, as if someone had yanked all the strings out of place and tried to re-tie some spots together haphazardly. An absolute mess.
The reapers huddled together, frightened by how angry Istus looked. Beshaba, for her part, looked sheepish.
“Um,” she murmured. “I can explain?”
“EXPLAIN!?” Istus roared. “You can explain to me AND Raven, why you—
Suddenly the reapers found themselves back in the open field. The Goddess were gone, the room was gone. There was a short beeping sound, as if a phone had just been hung up. Then it was gone as well.
They all looked at each other and shrugged.
Their moment was interrupted by the ringing of a loud cowbell. They glanced back to see Taako ringing the fucking thing with the giddiness of a kid at a carnival. Pattie still stood beside him, but her eyes were fixed on the reapers. On her mother.
The hills slowly filled with the voices of thousands of cows. They ambled on heavy hooved feet towards everyone. One of the newborn calves ran up and head butted Pirithin with as much energetic force as its little, spindly-limbed body could muster.
Pirithin, still shackled, blinked with just a modicum of lucidity. She looked up at the reapers before her, and at her daughter in the distance. Then her eyes went wide as she realized the gravity of what she had done.
“Oh, goodness,” she whispered, tears welling. “How could this happen?” More of the cows started to approach them, mooing comfortably. The calf licks her face with its little tongue. “How could this happen?” Pirithin sobbed again.
Pattie ran up to the trio in a near instant. The mother and daughter looked at each other, and then Pattie fell to her knees and wrapped her arms around Pirithin without saying a word.
The reapers give them a little bit of time.
Lup and Kravitz had led Pattie back up to the house to talk with Taako. The cows had all been herded into the stables. Barry sighed.
He swung his scythe through Piri’s body, leaving not a scratch. Her soul emerged quickly, glowing faint, before coalescing into a recognizable form. She looked at him, first frightfully, then solemnly resigned. He ripped open a rift to the astral plane and looked back at her. Ghostly tears streamed down her face, but she took two steps forward. She paused and tried to wipe them away, but they continued to pour.
Barry extended a hand. He had seen the same fear on many faces of unlucky souls who happened to get caught in the tangle of misfortune. He gave her a comforting smile, the only solace he could really provide at this moment. She took his hand nervously, nodding with understanding. She stepped through the portal, which flickered powerfully and closed behind her.
Rusty’s soul had left his body, now with purpose, and traveled to the astral plane. The Raven Queen is perched on her throne of obsidian and silver. He stands before her, his hat in one hand, his wife’s palm held firmly in the other. They are judged accordingly.
The following day met the reapers with clear skies and a lot of paperwork that they knew they have to tackle. Taako insisted on going back to the diner they previously visited to try out more of the menu.
“You can do homework and eat food at the same time,” he said, saddling up to go.
“It’s not homework, it’s our job ,” Barry replied. His horse whinnies in agreement.
“Any work that requires you to write an essay is homework, Barold. I'm a teacher, I know these things.”
Pattie walked out on the front porch and leaned against one of the banisters.
“Y’all come visit again!” She exclaimed. “But not for any time-associated shenanigans. I think most Woven Gulch folks have had enough of that!”
“No promises,” Lup replied, attempting to saddle the world’s largest bag of beef jerky onto the back of her steed. She drew a face on the bag with black marker. She named it Big Daddy Beef Boi.
Kravitz was the last to exit the house before Pattie saw them off. He turned to her and studied her face. Her eyes were still red from crying, but she looked less burdened now, less conflicted.
“You’re quite brave Pattie Doads,” He said to her, tipping his hat. “You’re made of grit and gumption, processing the will power to withstand dust storms, droughts and even the one act of god that not even the gods can foresee--heartache. You’re going to do well in this world.”
“Thank you,” She replied and offered a courageous smile. “...so much.”
He nodded again, then descended the porch steps and climbed onto the back of his own horse. Lup looked from Pattie to him. As they all start trotting away from the main house, she nudged him with her elbow,
“What was that about not being good at comforting?” She asked, giving him a smirk.
“I learn by example,” Kravitz said cooly. “And only from the best.”
“Nerd!” Lup said, making a face.
“Last one back at Clayridge pays!” Taako shouts, then snaps his reins. Garyl cuts into a dazzling gallop.
“Fuck you!” Lup shouts, spurring her steed into a blaze. Barry and Kravitz shoot each other knowing glances, and then all four take off into the horizon.
Towards where no dead men lay.