A Powerbound can only see as far as its faithfuls and soulbounds allow it to. This faculty of theirs shows of complex 'mortal-to-gods' relationships are, as the Powerbound's limited view and angle will shape its followers' view, while what they see heavily influences its own. It's a symbiotic relationship in more ways than one, and mortals have always been on the losing side of the bargain, in my opinion.
Alba worried about his maraj friend.
Cartha struggled to keep up with him even as he only jogged.
She was fast for a wounded fish, but how long could she maintain this façade of toughness?
Smoke still built up behind them.
Running up the hill, Irshya was still visible, and some warriors—now looking smaller than little ants—seemed to have gotten their wits about them.
A good sign for little Valor, and a bad sign for them.
They panted as they ran for the edges of Aethercrust, for the Steps.
Cartha ended up stubbing her foot on a small rock and falling on her belly.
"Come on," Alba said as he helped her up once more. "They'll be on our tail soon, but we're very much near."
She smiled.
"You sound too reassuring for a crazy guy with voices in his head," she replied. "Should I be scared?"
"We don't have time for…Whatever you're spewing, Cartha!" Alba scolded her. He could see a bit of blood seeping through the cracks of the ice she put over her gill wound. It was too thin and might not last a full day before she'd start oozing blood again.
"Heavens, land-dweller," she retorted, "keep it together. Remember, I'm the one dying here!"
He shook his head and took her hand as he turned to keep her running.
When he felt how cold her hands were, it both reminded him of Ixchel and worried him.
Perhaps it was simply because of the icy properties of her mana-forging, instead of a slowly creeping prospect of death.
Finally, they reached the walls of the crater.
The Steps protruded from them, stone formations looking rougher than ever.
Blood had painted every step of the climb with dark trails of red; blood trails that should have dried long ago, yet were always maintained by the next stupid human that wanted out Aethercrust.
Today, he was one such human.
Since he didn't hear any footsteps (yet) and smoke still hovered above Irshya in the distance, Cartha and Alba took a breather at the foot of the wall.
Cartha held her side as she leaned against the wall and made little crackling sounds as she took care of the ice around her wound.
Alba, on the other hand, took out a few bread crusts and dried fish and handed half to her.
"Are you going to be okay?" Alba asked.
"Well, have a look. Does it look okay to you?"
"Stop giving me shit, Cartha, just answer."
"Right, right. Wouldn't want to get choked again," she replied. Alba cringed as he felt like she would bring it up for years to come. "I'll live, Alba. I've seen worse—way worse—for one, but, for two, my people will also easily take care of this once we're out."
He nodded. If she had a plan for herself, it must not be too dangerous, but then again, he had been wrong before.
"The real question, buddy, is will you be okay," she added. "Looks like the big bad goddess got a good hold of your mind for a second back there."
Alba scratched the side of his neck, instinctively hiding the green, flowery patterns of his soulbound tattoo.
He had made the right choice, supposedly.
It just feared what would have happened if Ixchel had been slightly stronger.
The goddess was dangerous.
"It was on purpose," he replied as he turned over the gem of his newfound necklace. "I guess you can call it a calculated risk. Didn't expect that monster to flip out on you like that."
Cartha scoffed.
"Well, you better keep your divine bitch on a leash during the climb. I'm not about to turn into squashed goo because you're all too willing to let women play you like a fiddle, dude."
So she does know what she's doing.
Alba sighed.
He closed his pack and tightened the ropes around his shoulders.
"Next time I'm letting her finish the job," he said, and Cartha finally managed a smile through the pain.
Alba started slow, taking care not to cut himself on the rough edges of the Steps.
Unlike Cartha, he didn't lose blood in the fight, yet with how tired he was, losing blood during the climb could mean his end.
Cartha, though, had a very different approach to the Steps.
Maraj were strong, strong enough to have their webbed hands easily stick to the rock as they climbed.
She didn't like effort, that much he knew, so she had a more ingenious way of climbing.
In both her hands, she forged large protruding ice picks.
I suppose eating replenished some of her reserve, uh?
Then, she looked at him with an air of superiority before jumping and planting one hand, then the other, easily in the crater's wall.
Either it was softer than it looked or those ice picks could break through diamonds.
She got a decent head start this way, even if he expected her to slow down a bit once she was too far for him to see her face wincing against her stretching wound.
As he climbed, Alba's new body surprised him again.
He thought Ixchel had only given him back his peak physical form, which he lost during the ascetic monk diet and his adoption of their lifestyle, but she had given him more.
His hand blistered quickly, hardening fast enough that he could notice it as he gripped the stones.
As if he had crushed a fistful of chalk in his hands, his grip against the Steps stood firm.
He also didn't tire of the climb, yet he expected he'd grow tired soon after he sensed Ixchel's cold presence in his head.
"Your friend is out of earshot, mortal," she said as he completely ignored her and kept on looking for the next rock to put his right foot on. "Don't…You have any questions?"
At first, since he didn't respond, he could feel her presence wane as if she were about to slumber once more.
"No," he said before her presence fully disappeared. "And know that you and Cartha both are pissing me off with your nebulous bullshit, by the way."
"What now? There is nothing nebulous about me. You're fully aware that I cannot lie, so instead of pouting like a petulant child, why don't you just ask more questions? Why can't we just speak to each other?" she asked.
What was even her game?
She thought to play him like a fool for whatever her future plans were, but didn't care to act kind and caring since they'd partnered.
So why would she want to talk?
But it is true she couldn't lie, and if he played his cards right, she wouldn't be able to twist her words into truth either.
He paced his climb, looking down on his foothold as a way to hide his lip movement from Cartha.
She probably wouldn't look down, but you never know with her.
"Fine then," he added. "This necklace seems important to you, why did you want to avoid the Irshya village?"
"Isn't it obvious by how it went? Your friend is reckless and manipulative while you're incapable and easy to influence. It was a recipe for disaster from the start."
This forced honesty truly gave her carte blanche to barrage Cartha and him with disparaging words.
"Is there similar artefacts of yours in the world?"
"There is another, Remora's twin: Romulus."
As she kept it vague, he figured there was more to this but didn't press her on it right away.
Stupidly, perhaps, but he had other more pressing concerns.
He pulled up onto a ledge and dusted off his robe—a hard habit to let go of, even after years in Little Argiscio—and shook off the frightening sight of the ground so far below him, before resuming his climb.
"You've been around for a while, and can see farther than any of us. Have you seen or heard anything from my parents?"
"House Prudenzio… It is hard to say. I know that they lived up to at least a year ago, and are still probably unharmed. I cannot say the same for their finances or their Palazzo, however."
"So they're still alive," he said, before his hand slipped on a bloodstained outcrop. He scraped the skin of his hand against the rock as he slid down two steps."Well," he intoned, reaching for the next outcrop. "I'll just have to turn things around for them, then."
And he truly believed in these words.
In a sense, saving House Prudenzio and his parents' Palazzo has always been his key priority, second only to his quest to find the goddess.
They've been so selfless, so kind…forgoing the safety of their crumbling House to get Alba into safety.
A part of him had always resented them, and he didn't understand why.
As far as he remembered, they gave up everything to protect him and his visions from Duke Faliero's religious zealots.
So why did he feel like something didn't fit?
Was it because he had given up some important memories, that first night with Ixchel?
What he had left didn't look like patchwork to him, though; it just seemed strange.
"Lastly, I don't even think I have to ask that final question. You knew it was coming, right?"
"Speak plainly, mortal, lest I retreat back into my plane."
He couldn't help but resent the casual way in which she just dismissed him, just like she did earlier when she...
"Why Cartha?" he spat. "You were painfully wrong, and it is thanks to her that I am still alive right now."
"Fool, the only reason you've been in danger to begin with is her. We managed, but even then, we have to get rid of her. Permanently. She cannot remain alive, knowing all she knows and doing what she does."
"What does that even mean?" Alba snapped. Cartha stood above him with her feet dangling in the air as, during this terribly long discussion, they'd finally made it to the top of Aethercrust's crown. How could Ixchel think he'd believe her, looking into Cartha's eyes?
She tried to sow doubt between them, and he didn't know why.
"I'm not sure you could understand." the goddess uselessly answered. "Listen, this girl isn't nearly as cute as you think she is. This maraj woman is an old thing, probably close to a hundred years old and obviously keeps many secrets away from you, while risking your life for her gains. I may not be a goddess anymore, but my instincts are clear about her."
Cartha helped Alba up the last steps, despite her injury, gripping his hand and pulling him to her.
She then stood and went to observe the landscape below, so Alba followed.
They silently rested for a while, standing next to each other, and, as they exchanged a glance, Ixchel gave her final warning.
"Every time you put your trust into her, remember all she's hiding from you."