Who: Leo Paulson What: Returning from a long, strange trip When: Tuesday morning, May 31 Where: The shore of Lake Michigan Warnings: None
Leo stepped out of nothing and nowhere onto a windswept and rocky section of beach beside the steel gray lake. His broad-brimmed hat and tattered cloak were removed. Not taken off in any normal sense, simply removed, replaced with his usual gray suit, as if that's what he'd been wearing all along. Or maybe that was what he'd been wearing all along. Even he didn't know for sure.
He removed his phone from a suit pocket, turning it on and waiting for a signal. He had people he needed to contact, but the first priority was checking the date. May 31st.
Time passed oddly in that other realm. Backstage, Wednesday called it. It's not good for the audience to find themselves walking around backstage. Leo had gotten used to nearly everything that the old god had brought into his life, but he never quite got used to that. Almost a month had passed while he walked in that other world, in halls of stone and deserts full of bones, but it had felt like merely minutes then, or maybe like years. Backstage was peculiar that way.
The belief was only a trickle so far, the war and sacrifice just barely enough to sustain him. Certainly not enough to retire on. He couldn't afford to waste any more time. He'd wasted too much already, and it had cost him dearly. Now the only thing left to do was to make sure it was worth it.