The God is Not Willing/Chapter 23

Epigraph

It is a necessary conceit to believe things cannot change beyond all recognition. To greet the day to come as if it was but a shadow cast forward by the day just done, is how we fashion be links of the chain that we call our lives.     But it is in the moment when the world shows a new face, when the chain twists, buckles and binds, when rain turns into fire, water into stone, land into sea, that we must acknowledge a most unpleasant truth.     Continuity is an illusion. Unseen forces work to their own ends. On this day, then, I was one among many, witnessing my nation torn asunder by a clash of worlds. Neighbours took on the guise of demons. Husbands into tyrants, children into mute victims from whom all hope was stripped away, wives and mothers who stood like islands in a sea of storms, the waves rising ever higher.     What changed was no natural calamity, although those were soon to come. The death in question, precipitating the end to all reason, was an event barely noticed.     A nation depends upon its beliefs, the foundation stones of myths into which all manner of faith is instilled. The cynic is myth-slayer, relentless in all discourse to disaffect the veracity of honest things. This one lives solely in the present, the disbeliever in the future, the denier of the past. Dead are the destroying eyes, empty the embittered words, relentless the fist in the faces of all who suffer.     The cynic is tormentor and tormented both. Amidst the heaped bodies you will find no sign announcing them, nothing to tell you that the first world destroyed was within each of them. All that followed was a continuity of loss and despair leading to the bitter desire to cast outward the foul seeds born within.     Alas, the changed world they wrought did not spare a single one. Prelude to The Uprising, A History of Collapse Syrin ben Illant

Aboard the last surviving barge after the devastating flood, Folibore and the other marines grimly take stock of who’s missing — Spindle, Oams, Benger, Daint, Anyx Fro, and Stillwater among them. Sergeant Drillbent, Captain Gruff, and others mourn the heavy losses as they drift through wreckage and corpses, nearly five hundred survivors left, mostly Teblor. Gruff despairs over their failure to save more lives, while Captain Hayfire reminds him they did everything possible — the town’s destruction had at least saved the remaining barges.

As they discuss what went wrong, Gruff reflects that the disaster may have come from the long-ago melting of Jaghut ice fields — ancient magic undone — and criticizes how scholars’ warnings were ignored by leaders too focused on immediate concerns. He and Paltry Skint banter philosophically about the flaws of narrow education until Drillbent spots land: the Blued Spine Hills, and signs of other survivors.

Meanwhile, among the Teblor, Hestalan silently weeps. She recalls how one of her own, Bagidde, urged her to kill the remaining marines, still seeing them as enemies. Recognizing he would never change, she strangled him during the night and cast his body overboard. Hestalan now fully understands the marines’ compassion — their willingness to save former foes — and pledges herself to them. Her tears are not for Bagidde, but for the revelation that mercy and courage can overturn even the oldest hatreds.

Oams sits silently, recovering from the traumatic flood, while Spindle mourns the lost horses nearby. Haunted by fleeting, nightmarish visions, Oams feels powerless to console his sergeant but resolves to honor the dead in his own way, whispering thanks when he can. Eventually, they will rise, set out west, and continue searching for their friends, carrying their grief and gratitude with them.

After the flood, survivors—including So Bleak—worked with marines and local Teblor to build a new settlement from driftwood and debris, improvising shelters until proper tools and reinforcements arrived. So Bleak struggles with guilt over past losses, but veterans like Storp remind him that luck and survival aren’t curses. The community collaborates, including local youths helping with construction, showing mutual respect and reconciliation. Amid the labor, So Bleak finds a private, intimate moment with a companion, seizing a rare chance for closeness and reprieve in the midst of chaos.

Stillwater carefully guides her group through a hidden, ghostly version of their makeshift town, ensuring safety while keeping them unaware of the supernatural aspects. She observes the exhausted survivors, including marines, Teblor adults, children, and even a puppy, noting their resilience and survival. Recognizing the group’s fatigue and limited resources, she opens a portal to return them to the real world, leading them back safely to the settlement where some of their squad is already nearby. Despite the strange and ghostly journey, everything is intact, and she successfully reunites the group with the rest of their companions.

Folibore notices a commotion among the Teblor and sees Stillwater, Benger, Anyx, and Daint returning. Blanket confirms the squad is back, and Folibore greets Stillwater warmly. She feigns irritation, but Folibore hugs her, relieved and happy to see them safe, noting her disheveled, wet appearance.

Captain Gruff, Drillbent, and Shrake visit Fist Sevitt at her barge headquarters near dusk. Sevitt, a Falari and former marine, informs them of the heavy losses from the flood, including two entire battalions at Ninsano Moat, leaving the Rathyd refugees possibly the last of their kind. She orders an immediate departure south with the refugees in front. Gruff confirms no losses among his squads, and the team prepares to meet surviving marines—Benger, Clay Plate, Oams, and Spindle—who appear exhausted but resolute, intending to continue marching rather than take wagons.