The Blighted Mountains truly deserved their title. Sharp summits, resembling teeth clawed at a sky painted the shade of a new bruise. The stone itself was warped, streaked with glowing, pulsating fungus that produced a mesmerizing drone. It was a realm where reality seemed fragile worn thin by the Cataclysm.
Syrinx advanced with confidence, at this point. Cass had located her boots and sturdy pants within a scavenged supply stash. She had connected to the physical realm with startling quickness. Her previous barefoot stealth had been unsettling; now her steps matched his in softness an acquired imitation that revealed a mental agility.
She kept asking questions. Unwaveringly.
"Why do my eyes hurt when I look at the sky here?"
"The ambient radiation is higher. Your eyes are more sensitive."
Got it. Would you like me to adjust my eye filters?
"Are you capable of doing that?"
A moment of silence. "I'm unsure. I haven't attempted it."
Subsequently while making their way across a slope composed of fragile black shale:
"The sorrow reflected in your bio-signature surged soon as you referenced your parents. Could you tell me your mothers name?"
Cass's jaw clenched. "Tania."
"Tania " Syrinx echoed, committing it to memory. ". What, about your father?"
"What is the significance?"
Context is shaped by data. You represent my context.
He exhaled deeply the noise swallowed by the breeze. "He went by Kael. Kael Abysswalker."
"Not the Angel of Death?"
Cass halted so suddenly she almost ran into him. He spun around his gaze sharp, as flint shards. "Where did you come across that title?"
Your document. It mentioned 'possible paternal/guardian connection: Azrael, Angel of Death Soul Reaper.' I figured it was figurative. Your response implies it is factual." She inclined her head. "Is Death actually your father, Cass?"
A coldness unrelated to the mountain breeze passed through him. The reality of his ancestry was a burden than the remnants of the world. He had struggled to be human to be Kael and Tania's child, than the heir of cosmic doom.
"It's tricky " he muttered, continuing the ascent. ". It's none of your business."
"My Anchor's origin is my primary concern. If you are of Death, and I am of the Phoenix... we are antitheses. Death is the end. The Phoenix is rebirth from the end. This is a fundamental conflict."
"There's your first real lesson," Cass said, a bitter edge to his voice. "Nothing's ever that clean. Death can be a mercy. Rebirth can be a curse. We're both just... what we are. Now be quiet. We're getting close."