The Sketch Rift: The Eternal Crusade

Passing the Telescope

There was little light pollution emitted from Hendera, most of which was comprised of candles, old fireplaces, and flickering light bulbs from the worn Facility. This offered an exceptional view of the night sky -- something Soal and Irene were usually too busy sleeping or taking care of more significant matters to attend to. This time, Moth took advantage of what was visible to speak with the Master Bringer regarding several major advancements. Alice remained with Count and Countess in their Hall, while Gnat and Hemingway conversed in the vicinity, their words inaudible. Moth had taken the Master Bringer to a slope overlooking the Calendar -- close enough to convey the signals the clock itself indicated, but far enough away to stoke the potential fire that the Ambassador may cause among the Henderians. When they reached their destination, Soal scanned their surroundings -- startled, albeit relieved, to find that the entire Crusade encircled them from afar, poised to skirmish, should the case arise.

Upon seating themselves on the hill, a humble glass of milk materialized in Moth's fist from a dark, energized substance. In one sip, he finished the glass and tossed it down the slope to roll. "Phew," he wiped his mouth hastily with his somehow dusty hand. "I haven't had any milk in months."

"Ivel must be very hard on you," Irene briefly clasped his shoulder. "No wonder you're so thin. You look you could really use more... nourishment."

"Even worse," he replied, "he often forbids me from using these plot holes. You know, what I used to summon the milk."

"I was about to ask," Soal observed in dread as the glass reached the bottom of the hill, prior to being crushed utterly and violently by a faintly recognizable soldier at the Henderian border.

"The Kyueb Reacsoa and I talk often, often indirectly," Moth laid back gradually and leaned his head on his arms. "Eventually, he gave me plot holes -- that is, the ability to simply generate any physical item in the blink of an eye, so long as he finds it convenient for us."

"Well, if only you had been there when Hemingway's automatic white rabbit pulled me back to the future," Soal sighed.

"Or if you'd been there, at almost any point in my life," Irene widened her eyes to match with this semi-exaggeration.

"I suppose that we could all relate at some point in the usage of plot holes," Moth gestured, assembling a primitive telescope with just those. "Because the Kyueb Reacsoa is currently focusing his own omnipresent telescope upon us, we can communicate in a unique manner. Similarly to how both of you realized that Lint Corp owned a constellation in the Sketch Worlds, the Kyueb Reacsoa owns one here, in the Second Plane of Reality, just below the Highest Plane (the only truly real Plane among them). It is only visible if the Ambassador makes it public to specific people like I am now. See it?"

Soal shivered, only for Moth to hand both members of the Master Bringer the exact same jacket given to Soal by Synthor earlier. "Thanks," the Master Bringer declared in unison, before blushing five shades of pink. Moth tried his best to ignore it, and handed the telescope to Irene, directing her attention to a select section of the night sky. "We can pass the telescope for each of us to read."

Dozens of stars looked to crisscross their usual orbits in the galaxy to form letters in the sky, almost colliding with one another in the process, but the Kyueb Reacsoa ensuring that it would never occur. It read, in strangely Fviron-esque penmanship:

G R E E T I N G S .   W H A T   N O W   I S   T O   B E   A S K E D ?

"Hello again!" Moth sat up to wave as if frantically attempting to gain attention that was already there. "Anything that you want of me now? Didn't you tell me earlier that you wanted me to tell them about this since there was no better time? And something about figurative plot holes?"

The stars rapidly shifted positions, and in no time, the phrase was entirely different.

"Indeed, Kyeub Reacsoa-- that was it this time?" Moth raised his eyebrow, unaccustomed to this. "Well, old K.R. is not exactly an extrovert, and we usually write each other by way of snail mail. It's still a spectacle, though, to see the stars move back to their normal positions." He set the telescope on the thin-soiled ground and continued his lecture about potentially hallucinatory existentialism.

"Meanwhile, how did I begin this? Pop quiz: can either of you tell me?" Moth resumed his laying on the deadened grass, but Soal and Irene only resumed their interior disdain towards his beliefs, and what very well could be universal truths, much to their fear -- thus responding in no more than silence.

"I meant to say," this time the Ambassador was sincere, "that I would tell you about the Great Five, plain and simple. The Great Five, according to Lint Corp and the Fviron, was once only the Great Four, but they were a sign that the Fviron were right, and one of the concerns behind the beginning of the Sketches and Polygmius. It became the Great Five in the last few years when we added you, the Master Bringer, to the list."

"So who are the others?" an ever-curious Soal ventured to ask. "If they had actually predicted it correctly, it would be the at least the Great Six right now."

"Indeed, but the Great Five it remains," Moth chortled. "The original was the Ambassador: me, whose job you hopefully know. Then, there was the Sulord. Originally, that was Y. L. Revaw, but after his death, there is no Sulord to be found. The myths say that he had an apprentice, but no one knows who, if the myth even is bound by reality. Of course, there are still Sulukridgers out there, but their identity is cold and concealed well, and their power great."

"After that crisis," Soal reminisced Hemingway's exposition upon their initial visit to Hendera. "Only their harsh leaders were spared when Count..."

"Yes," Moth confirmed. "But Count is not one of the Great Five in any way. However, the Bejirian Incarnation is. The legend goes that the queen of the Observers, the Breyer Bejir, has a counterpart in the Second Plane. This is up to much debate, but from my speculation, she is closely affiliated with the others. As for me, I know little about her -- at least, little that I'm supposed to tell you now. But don't worry; that's something that the Kyueb Reacsoa makes me do all the time. So stop worrying about it."

"I wasn't --" Soal and Irene began, only to halt at the beginning, seeing as they had done this once more.

"You really have a knack for synchronization, huh?" Moth grinned at this act of unity -- a grin that swiftly faded across the rest of his lesson. "Anyway, the final member of the Great Five is probably the Waisedip. I say 'probably' because this is clearly the most controversial one among them. Basically, the Waisedip is what we're going to throw at Sulukrita on 9101, and some people think that it is the Master Bringer. But I theorize otherwise, and consider the Waisedip to be an entirely different person or thing. I have spent years attempting to decipher this, but failed every time."

"Anything with '-dip' in the name sounds like a 'thing' to me," Soal summarized his thoughts on the topic, finally without being interrupted by an identical statement from Irene.

"I don't know," Irene answered every question at once in return. "To me, it's more like a... well, I'm not sure. Didn't Renyrocrattus, or whatever her name is these days, spy on Gordon Gulley talking about Waisedip in the Facility days? I vaguely recall hearing about it. Not that it mentioned anything about what Waisedip was."

"Renyrocrattus is serving under the Count and the Countess right now," Moth apprised of the former Articulus's whereabouts, of which the Master Bringer had silently pondered for some time. "You can see where that is leading her. Or, at least, I can. In the end, the Kyueb Reacsoa's wish is my command. So I have to finish that conversation that we started... on paper."