Epilogue: Pupsilludo and the Many Endings

It was an aggressively sunny day in the Orosea Isles. Birds chirped, bees buzzed, sellers shouted and passersby chattered. The busy market was practically stuffed with animalfolk – after all, it’s the first market day in Algacis in months. It’s no surprise, then, that no one noticed the small Kenku child who slipped out of the shadows, sidled up to the nearest fruit stand, and stole some grapes before calmly waddling away. 

Grapes! The little Kenku’s face broke into a wide smile as he popped some into his mouth. Tasty! As he nibbled and walked, he glanced around the market street. There were animalfolk everywhere, haggling with merchants and browsing wares. Look at them, he thought. Shopping without a care in the world. An outsider would find it hard to believe that the world nearly ended just a month ago. Not that he knew anything about that particular event – no, no, right now he was just Punkiedory, the very, very, very, ordinary Kenku. 

And he was out on a mission! Sida and Cae wanted some advice from Tor Avitpaxu, but they were soooo busy patching up the fabric of reality that they had sent him instead. Not that he minded – at least he wasn’t grounded anymore after the…incident…with the adventurers. 

Hmm, I wonder how they’re doing… Punkiedory pondered if he had enough time to go find some of them after his little errand. He supposed not…and he’d better not push his luck. Being grounded sucks.

It’s not long before he found himself in the great temple in the center of the city, right in front of the ginormous statue of Tor Avitpaxu. It’s not a half-bad depiction, he supposes. Could use a few more wrinkles though… But he wasn’t here to criticize the sculptors. Now if he just stepped here, and did this, he should- 

Floomp! 

As he stepped forward, the world suddenly shifted and swirled most unpleasantly, and then all of a sudden the world snapped back into focus. Trying very hard not to stumble, Punkiedory(or, he supposed, he should call himself Pupsilludo now) narrowly avoided beak planting into the soft green grass of Tor Avitpaxu’s plane.

Traveling to other planes is always the worst… Dusting himself off, Pupsilludo took a minute to orient himself. The home of the Tortle god was always an idyllic sight. There were rolling fields dotted with trees, perpetually fluffy white clouds, and a bright sun above. Off to his left, he spotted a meandering river filled with shimmering water, lazily winding its way through the landscape. 

Aha! There it was, the River of Time! Now if he just followed it in that direction, he should eventually find Tor Avitpaxu…

And so, with a little hop and a skip, Pupsilludo was on his way. After a while, he finally found the Tortle god sitting under a willow tree. Pupsilludo was about to call out when he realized that the older god seemed to be quite focused on…something in the River. That meant it was the perfect time to pull a prank! 

But before he could even figure out what prank to pull (maybe he could drop down from the tree?) the older god turned around, as if he had sensed Pupsilludo’s devious plans. “Little one?” Tor Avitpaxu raised one white-haired eyebrow. “What brings you here?”

“Oh!” Drat. Caught, Pupsilludo slumped a little and twiddled his feathers, waddling forward dejectedly. But no, no, he was on a mission. “Well, Sida and Cae sent me over to ask you…” However, he trailed off before he could finish his sentence, eyes drawn toward the strange, ever shifting images in the water. Was Tor Avitpaxu watching something? It seemed likely enough, as it wouldn’t be the first time the older god had watched the exploits of mortals. Yet as he looked closer, his blood turned icy cold.

One of the pictures showed a bloodstained world, a huge monster consuming all it saw. As he watched, another creature – so small in comparison to the beast grasping it! – was popped into the creature’s ravenous maw. 

In another, Yuan-ti raided villages as a cackling figure stood proudly on a pile of bodies in the background. There was a flash of light, a torch, perhaps, and all of a sudden the world was on fire, flames so hot and bright that Pupsilludo worried his feathers would somehow get singed.

The last image showed giant buzzing insects on every surface. Although the image was soundless, Pupsilludo could practically hear the droning of their wings. Briefly, he noticed a figure pop up out of the water in the image – but only for a second, as the insects descended on it and ripped it apart.

Pupsilludo felt a shiver run down his little spine as he tore his eyes away. What in the world did he just see? Those things were the stuff of his nightmares – and he was a god! As he glanced to the side, he found the Tortle god watching him with strangely sad eyes.

He wouldn’t ask. He shouldn’t ask. His siblings always told him to stay out of things, to stop poking his beak in places where it didn’t belong. But, but, buuut –

“What are you doing?” Oh, now he’s really done it. Why oh why oh why did he have to ask?! Pupsilludo bet his feathers that he would get in so much trouble once he went back home. 

“Hmm?” Tor Avitpaxu seemed almost confused for a second before he turned back to the river. “Ah, right.” As Pupsilludo watched, the images shifted, swirled, changed. Now he saw wild animals attacking emancipated animalfolk, not to kill, but for sport. If he looked closely, he thought he could count the ribs on the closest one. Now he saw a world of eternal darkness, filled with withered plants. Now he saw a dead and rotting world filled with the corpses of Firbolgs. Instinctively, Pupsilludo placed a hand over his beak, even though Tor Avitpaxu’s realm only smelled like green grass and sunshine.

“What are these?” Pupsilludo asked again, quietly. The images were horrible, yes, but also captivating in a grotesque way. And, at the very least, he didn’t seem to be in trouble yet. 

“Ways the world could have ended.” Tor Avitpaxu told him, solemn and calm as ever. “All possibilities are contained within the River. Had one of the six usurpers won, Ritenus would have been destroyed. And if any more of us had died…” A light breeze blew over the river, flipping the scenes in it once again. Now there were scenes of war, silhouetted against lightning bolts and explosions and a world being ripped apart by nature itself. Of burning libraries, thick black smoke filling the air, and bounties placed on the heads of those that dared to learn. Of walking dead and living nightmares. But what scared him most of all was the form in the foreground. Because it…it looked like him, but sadder and older and meaner. He dreaded knowing what had made future-him that way. Tor Avitpaxu followed his gaze and continued, “Well, the world would have survived, but we would have had quite the predicament on our hands.”

“Of course,” the older god watched Pupsilludo’s expression carefully, “The other possibilities will disappear with time. The River simply won’t tolerate it. Soon, there will only be one path forward…” Turning, Tor Avitpaxu’s eyes crinkled into a kind smile. “So count yourself lucky, little bird, that you saw what could have been.” One wrinkly old hand came down to pat Pupsilludo on the head. “And be glad you live in this reality, alright?”

Pupsilludo nodded, considerably more somber. After all, if any of those worlds had come to be, there would have been no time for tricks and pranks and other fun things! He liked the mortals who took time to play with him, thank you very much. 

“Ah, but you aren’t just here to listen to an old god talk.” Patting the ground next to him,Tor Avitpaxu gave Pupsilludo a questioning glance. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh right!” Pupsilludo had almost forgotten! “You see, Sida and Cae want to know…”

And as the two gods talked, the river flowed on, and on, and on beside them, sweeping away the dark images in swirls of gold.