Chapter 113: Wander

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Goulet sat on the edge of his Goliath, watching the sun set on another day. He placed his pipe in his mouth, sucking on it slowly as he drew the smoke into his lungs. He shot out rings through the air, observing their drifting and dissipation. Next to him were three other Goliaths, and they all formed a circle on the plains. "A month has gone by already."

"Taking their sweet time are they?" Sigmeund flicked dirt off the hull of his warmachine, his boredom not hidden from his face.

"Or perhaps they are giving us more time," Goulet answered with his usual wisdom, his speaking slow and thoughtful. "It is not as if we have done much to change the world while we have waited."

"Cities have been lost, Goulet. We can't shape the course of entire battles so directly like that." A bird flew over Sigmeund's head, passing by him as he spoke. He stopped to stare at its flight, marvelling at the grace with which it traversed the air. "There are certainly more souls searching for answers, for voices, but we are no more vocal than we were before."

"If you always talk in riddles," Grimsley said, cutting into the conversation, "then I'll never be able to keep up."

"Right you are boy!" Ronald popped out of the Goliath before being shoved back into it by Grimsley. The old man had recently been quite annoying, expressing a desire to return to Narrius and run his shop again. He was apparently bored of his life as a wanderer without cause and would prefer to trick and swindle people to help him make a somewhat honest living.

"Life is nothing but a riddle anyways," Goulet mused, taking a long drag from his pipe. "What would the point be in trying to define our actions within such an enigma?"

Sigmeund burst out laughing at Goulet's intentional philosophizing. "You are only here because you are following your mentor, correct? You have to go wherever he goes, commit to his goals, and heed his every command."

"Don't make me sound like a slave driver, Sigmeund," Goulet said, ending the dispute. "We are committed to spreading knowledge and learning. We are not a rebel group or a military force."

Ochenkov only sat in silence, his head moving from side to side as he followed conversations. Speaking with this group had been incredible, giving him insight into a different side of the world that he had suspected existed. There had been many discussions on the history of Ishiyama, on Enianism, on government, and some special chats Ochenkov had had with Goulet regarding the barbarian's own culture. The man seemed to know things that not even Ochenkov had heard of, and it fascinated him.

Goulet, likewise, was constantly probing Ochenkov for knowledge, first regarding the nomadic northern culture, then about the Enian Federation, and finally they had talked about the Enigma Soldiers and what Ochenkov knew. Goulet was the least interested in the machines, though Sigemund always wanted to know more, and would usually focus more on why they would be created, rather than what they were capable of. Ochenkov had much respect for the man.

At first, their trips as a group had seemed aimless, pointless ventures through small towns in the north. The people were usually welcoming of a military convoy, assuming the group represented protection. Some noticed the insignia on the Artisan crafts and had reservations, while others were so disconnected from the main government that they did not know there was a difference. Ochenkov was always mindful of running into the small town he had once been trapped at, but they hadn't come across it.

Eventually, they had wandered south and west, traversing the border between the Federation and the Confederate. The farmlands there had been ravaged by the Jahari's first appearances, and it seemed that the creatures roamed through the plains in some locations. Holes and craters littered the countryside, turning valuable lands into abandoned wastes in an instant.

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