KamiKowa: That Time I Got Transmigrated With A Broken Goddess

The horses moved through the snow in single file, their breath creating small clouds that dissipated quickly in the cold air. Xavier rode point on Smoke, his posture straight but alert, blue eyes constantly scanning the treeline ahead. Behind him, Naomi guided Ember with steady hands while Ashley sat in front of her, wrapped in their remaining blankets.

No one spoke.

The silence wasn't uncomfortable—it was practical. Sound carried far in the thin mountain air, and they'd learned the hard way that Frostfall's predators had excellent hearing. Xavier's hand rested on his dagger's hilt, not from nervousness but from habit. He'd developed a lot of new habits since the village.

"Ridge ahead," Xavier said quietly. "We'll check the route from there."

Naomi acknowledged with a slight nod. Ashley didn't respond, but in a passing shard of ice, Xavier caught the reflection of her eyes—awake and mirroring his own constant scan of the horizon.

They'd been riding for three hours since breaking camp. Their morning routine had become efficient through necessity: Naomi checked their supplies and planned the day's travel while Xavier scouted ahead and Ashley conserved her strength. No unnecessary conversation.

Xavier guided Smoke up the rocky slope, the gelding's hooves finding purchase on the icy stones. At the top, he dismounted and pulled out the crude map they'd salvaged from Dalen's wagon. The parchment was stained and torn, but the major landmarks were still visible.

"We're here," Xavier traced their position with his finger as Naomi and Ashley joined him. "Hearthome should be..." He squinted at the faded ink. "Two days south, maybe three depending on the weather."

"Food?" Naomi asked.

Xavier glanced at their supply bundle tied to Ember's saddle. "If we're careful."

"We'll be careful." Naomi's tone suggested this wasn't a request.

Ashley shifted in the saddle, her blue eyes studying the map over their shoulders. "The southern pass looks clear, but there's a notation here." She pointed to a small symbol near their intended route. "Looks like a warning."

Xavier leaned closer. The symbol was barely visible—three wavy lines with what might have been teeth. "Could be anything. Rockslide area, maybe."

"Or something worse." Ashley's voice was stronger today. "Efler mentioned the Winter Court had patrols near the main roads."

"We'll stay off the main road," Xavier decided. "Follow the ridgeline where we can see what's coming."

Naomi folded the map and tucked it back into her coat. "That adds half a day to our travel time."

"Better slow than dead."

Xavier remounted Smoke, but before they could continue, the gray gelding's ears pricked forward sharply. The horse's nostrils flared, testing the wind.

Xavier held up his hand, stopping the others. He'd learned to trust Smoke's instincts—the horse had saved their lives twice already by detecting threats before human senses could.

The wind shifted, carrying a scent that made Xavier's stomach clench. Musk. Blood. The distinctive crystalline smell of a Vorthak.

"Tracks," Naomi whispered, pointing to the snow ahead.

The prints were fresh, maybe an hour old. Large paws with extended claws, the kind that could gut a horse with a single swipe. Xavier counted at least three distinct sets, possibly four.

"We go around," he said quietly.

Naomi raised an eyebrow. "That's a two-hour detour through rough country."

"Yes."

"The tracks are heading west. They might not even—"

"We go around."

Ashley watched this exchange without comment, but Xavier caught something in her expression. Not disappointment at his caution, but something else. Relief, maybe. Or approval.

They spent the next two hours picking their way through a maze of rocky outcroppings and frozen streams. The detour ground them down, horse and rider alike, but two hours later they emerged onto the far side without incident, the only cost a deeper ache in their bones. When Xavier finally called a halt for their midday rest, his headache had worsened considerably.

"You're in pain," Ashley observed as they shared strips of dried meat and the last of their bread.

Xavier touched the back of his neck where the Soul Mark burned like a brand. "It's getting stronger the closer we get to Hearthome."

"The pull toward Calypso?"

"That too." Xavier took a careful sip from their water skin. "But the mark is... active. I can feel it watching. Learning."

Naomi studied his profile with those sharp golden eyes. "What's it learning?"

"How I think. How I make decisions." Xavier gestured toward the path they'd taken around the Vorthak tracks. "An hour ago, I chose to avoid a fight. The mark found that fascinating."

"Why?"

"Because the Knight expects me to seek conflict. To test myself against stronger opponents." A dry, humorless sound escaped Xavier's throat. "It's cataloguing the differences between what it thinks I should do and what I actually do."

Ashley wrapped her blanket tighter around her shoulders. The golden fractures along her jawline had faded to thin lines, barely visible unless the light caught them just right.

"In the village," she said slowly, "when my Covenant shattered... I felt something similar. Like my power was studying me. Trying to understand why I protected people instead of myself."

"Abilities don't study their users," Naomi said. "They're tools, not entities."

"Are they?" Ashley met her gaze. "What if the Essentia we use isn't as passive as we think? What if it learns from us, adapts to us?"

Xavier considered this. His Input Buffer had definitely evolved since coming to Frostfall. New techniques appeared when he needed them. Perfect Strikes that he'd never trained for. Even the interface itself had changed, showing information that hadn't been there before.

"The Knight called my power borrowed," he said. "Like it belonged to someone else."

"Maybe it does." Ashley's voice was barely audible. "Maybe all of it does."

They finished their meal in contemplative silence. When Xavier stood to check the horses, Naomi walked with him, her boots crunching in the snow.

"You've changed," she said without preamble.

"Have I?"

"The Xavier I knew at school would have fought those Vorthaks. Hell, the Xavier from last week would have fought them." Naomi's breath misted as she spoke. "You would have seen it as a chance to test your abilities, maybe impress us."

Xavier ran his hand along Smoke's neck, checking the horse's condition. "That Xavier got people killed."

"No." Naomi's voice was firm. "The Knight got people killed. You made the best decision you could with the information you had."

Xavier turned to face her. "Or did I lead us into that village because I was too proud to take the longer route? Because I wanted to prove I could handle whatever we found there?"

Naomi stepped closer, her golden eyes searching his face. "You can't carry the weight of every decision. It'll break you."

"Maybe it already has."

"No." Ashley's voice came from behind them. She'd approached quietly, moving with the careful grace of someone still recovering from serious injury. "Broken people don't spend hours finding safe routes around danger. Broken people don't share their last water with horses. Broken people don't..." She gestured vaguely. "Don't care."

Xavier stared at her, surprised by the passion in her voice.

"You think the old Xavier would have noticed I was pushing myself too hard yesterday? Would have called an early halt without me asking?" Ashley shook her head.

"This Xavier got—"

"This Xavier kept us alive." Naomi's interruption was sharp. "This Xavier made the hard choices when it mattered. Don't you dare diminish that."

Xavier felt something shift inside his chest. Not the cold alien presence of the Soul Mark, but something warmer. More familiar.

"Thank you," he said simply.

Ashley's mouth quirked upward in what might have been the first smile he'd seen from her since the village. "Don't get a big head about it. You're still insufferable."

"There's the Ashley I remember." Xavier grinned back. "For a minute there I thought the Knight had replaced you with someone nice."

"Shut up and help me back onto this horse. My legs feel like jelly."

As they prepared to continue their journey, Xavier felt his headache spike again. But this time it wasn't just pain—there was direction to it. A pull that seemed to tug at something behind his ribs.

"She's close," he said, touching his temple. "Calypso. I can feel her."

"How close?" Naomi asked as she helped Ashley settle into the saddle.

"Close enough that the connection is getting stronger." Xavier mounted Smoke, wincing as the movement aggravated the Soul Mark. "We might reach Hearthome tomorrow if we push hard."

"Then we push hard," Ashley said. "I'm tired of running."

They rode through the afternoon in renewed silence, but it was different now. Purposeful rather than merely cautious. Xavier found himself sitting straighter in the saddle, his eyes fixed on the southern horizon where Hearthome waited.

The landscape began to change as they climbed higher into the mountains. The snow grew deeper but looser, suggesting geothermal activity beneath. Steam rose from hidden vents, creating pockets of warmth that the horses gravitated toward during their brief rests.

"Volcanic activity," Naomi observed during one such stop. "We're getting close."

As evening approached, they crested a high ridge and saw it: Hearthome.

The city sprawled across a series of terraced plateaus carved into the side of an active volcano. Steam and smoke rose from countless vents, creating a haze that glowed orange and red in the dying light. Buildings climbed the mountainside in concentric circles, each level connected by bridges and staircases that seemed to defy gravity.

At the city's heart, a massive cathedral dominated the skyline. Even from this distance, Xavier could see the eternal flame burning within its crystal dome—a beacon of warmth and light against the endless winter.

"Beautiful," Ashley breathed.

"Warm," Naomi added practically.

Xavier said nothing. The pull in his chest had become so strong it was difficult to breathe. Calypso was down there, somewhere in that maze of stone and steam. After everything they'd endured, they finally made it.

Calypso, I'm coming.