'Higher purpose.' Ochazuke slowly turned from the Wolf and looked to the abandoned structure behind him. A cultivated labour of a thousand hands raised in devotion to an ideal now lay barren, hidden even under the snows of this frozen land as if it had never existed. The monument so raised in the ice lay abandoned, tended to only by its totemic spirit left to contemplate the fading memory as it too was slowly swallowed by the ice.
Is that what you called it, o Master of Masters?
Hearing Mara's words of the subject only incited a deep exhale through clenched teeth, burning white-hot in the dead air of the glacier shrine. The breath of the common legacy Ochazuke held within him burned. It seemed as if the answer lay on a higher plane. In an ever familiar story, their progenitor had sought to go beyond and left the rest behind him to suffer. As the planet turned beneath their feet swiftly approaching its hour of ruin, Ochazuke did not share his companions' sense of discovery; rather, a low, familiar ache rose in his heart, the length of regret tinting the bloodshed ever more starkly in the echo of his memory, stoking the fire within him.
"I shall as well."
Ironically, he found he had no choice in the matter but for the duty that fell on his shoulders as a pursuant of the truth behind their shared history. For who hears the whispers of the dead but those willing to listen?
Casting his view to the glacier, it seemed to the breadth of his sense that what dwelt within had fallen silent. Now the memory bequeathed to them had been given new life through the three of them, and the spirit of the Wolf moved along theirs.
"A patron deity, Zaofan?" Ochazuke's grim countenance betrayed no emotion as he slowly came to terms with what they'd just learned. "You forget yourself."
Moments later, Ochazuke landed next to the other two having flown at his own pace behind them.
"I don't know what you were thinking," he chuckled, "especially you, Balon, that you would attempt a master's work before grasping the foundation."
As he landed his arms were folded, and the wrappings on his hands were damaged and blackened.
"Moreover, what time do you think we have that Jagam will not be the end of it?"