There was talk that the world had almost ended.

It didn't matter much to him. The world almost ended several times a year. It was nothing new.

But there were some who could never get used to how precipitous their continued existence really was, and so panicked every time without fail at the mention of the apocalypse.

Aegis hated those people. Not that he would ever say it. But really, how can you get so worked up about the End Times when you're already dead?

Though Aegis would never admit to it, he kept an ear out for any gossip to be had in the Plane of Elemental Spirits. With a population of little more than three hundred, news spread quickly along the Plane, and it wouldn't do for things to get out of hand. Shortly after his death and ascension, he'd appointed himself one of the protectors of the realm (he'd been stupid and brash at the time and didn't really know what it was that he was getting into) and as such often found himself working crowd control when things got out of hand.

Such as now.

"Miss Jonhston, I can assure you that the world has not ended." He said. Calm and firm. I know what I'm talking about.

The orange Spirit in front of him huffed, and crossed her arms in front of her, but Aegis could see just a hint of doubt in her expression. Ceffuni Johnston had been a human in life, and in death had become the Spirit of Charity. Aegis had never thought that Charity was a definable trait, but then again he was one to talk. How exactly did one measure Valor anyway?

"Oh?" She countered, any doubt she might have had gone from her face, "And what makes you so sure? You don't leave the Plane much, so how would you know what's going on out there? They say there's a war you know—we've already had to welcome three new Spirits this month alone."

He frowned. Ah yes, the new arrivals. Aegis hadn't learned their names yet since the newly ascended were generally given a grace period to collect themselves and just be alone for a bit, but he did learn their titles. Ambition, Honor, and Cunning. He wondered if their families had been informed of their fates. "There's always talk of the world ending when there's a war going. It hasn't yet and it won't for a long time."

Miss Johnston opened her mouth to speak again. He cut her off before she could get any words out.

"Besides, we currently have 218 active Soulweavers on the Common Plane. If the world truly had ended, we would be welcoming more that just three new arrivals a month."

It was too much to hope for to see her gaping like a fish. She quickly turned on her heel and left, not bothering to look back or make another sound. He could trust that within a few days, talk of the world ending would die down, and familiar conversation would resume on the Plane once more. Aegis did not care for such a thing. He had other things to do.

Almost as soon as it started, there was talk that the war was over. Aegis had faintly heard that it had ended rather spectacularly as far as wars go. It was funny what dying did to someone's perspective. Not many people would describe a war as if it were a sporting event.

And yet, here they all were.

Aegis didn't know how long it had been since he'd last left the Plane. Designating himself it's protector had bitten him in the ass quite a few times in the years since his death, most notably in the form of having little time to himself. His time was spent instead patrolling the Plane, keeping the peace as best he could and dealing with any of the monsters that might wreak havoc.

(The monsters were a great surprise to him in those early weeks after his ascension. He'd spent the entirety of his grace period familiarizing himself with the Plane, but he had not been expecting that there might be creatures lurking within alongside his fellow Spirits. He'd been very naive then. He told himself that he'd gotten less so over the years.)

The war had claimed eleven Soulweavers before it ended.

Most groups would find such casualties astonishingly low. To the Spirits and their Soulweavers, whose numbers were low already, the loss was greatly felt.

Ambition. Devotion. Focus. Luck. Insight. Honor. Cunning. Silence. Industry. Candor. Fear.

That their death and ascension ultimately meant that new Soulweavers could be trained in greater numbers did nothing to ease their shared pain.

He told himself that when war came again, it would claim less of their numbers than it had before.

He told himself that after every war.

Aegis left the Plane of Elemental Spirits. Ceffuni was right, he did need to leave. No matter how much he sometimes liked to think so, it wasn't as if he was needed to protect the Plane. Most of the Spirits had been warriors or adventurers themselves before they died, and could easily take care of themselves. His death and ascension was recent enough that he hadn't become fixed as a protector to the minds of the Plane. He still had some leeway. He still had some freedom.

And it wasn't like he was going to be gone long. He just needed some fresh air, so to speak. He'd be back soon.

As soon as he reached the Common Plane he was greeted by scorched earth.

Not in the political sense, but the actual on-fire sense.

Just who was this war being fought with?

The ground blackened and charred beyond recognition, curved depressions where blasts of fire had no doubt incinerated the soil and grass into fine particles to be swept away by the wind. There were no trees here, merely black matches grown from the earth, collapsing in on themselves and falling to the ground. Even the sky seemed red, but a quick glance told him that was merely the sunset. The wind blew unbidden and cold through the mostly empty clearing, but that was no solace to the Spirit.

There had been too much fire here. Too much death. Too much fighting.

He needed to leave. He'd gotten his fresh air, and more.

So Aegis left.

He left the clearing, but not the Plane, and he did not know why.

There was nothing binding him to this realm, not anymore. His family had been notified of his demise (he hadn't been there, how could he, they were already grieving they didn't need to see what death had made him into) a few weeks after his ascension. His funeral had been traditional and quaint. (aside from the fact that his body had never been recovered)

He had no Soulweaver to beckon him to this Plane. He had no unfinished business.

He was still here.

He wandered.

And he found the Cave.

NOTE: Well, it looks like I'm a liar. Fuck Centilingued, let's write a story about Aegis. I realize that this is probably a very confusing beginning—I wrote most of it at 7 am after a night of no sleep. Hopefully I'll be able to expand upon it in the next chapter in such a way that things aren't as confusing. You can always yell at me if I don't.