“Unforgotten. Guardian? Misbegotten!”
It’s as if several ideas are trying to force their way through his mind at once. But “unforgotten” gives you some thoughts. The main reason you’re here is to deal with the forgotten god – so does “unforgotten” mean it’s something that allows him to be remembered?
Well, that can’t quite be it. “Forgotten” doesn’t literally mean nobody remembers him, though information is thin. Grandmother said what it really means is that the world has forgotten Goan as a god and doesn’t respond to him.
Then something that makes him “unforgotten” would give him more influence. You haven’t got the faintest clue how that would work, but it probably doesn’t involve normal magic, so it would make sense that Marian can’t detect it.
But he also called the thing a “guardian”. Maybe the slime is protecting whatever’s unforgetting Goan. And misbegotten could mean a number of things, none of which really feel like they help to clarify the situation.
What you really need is some way to protect yourself from the pain when you remove whatever’s at the core. So unless misbegotten is somehow a clue to that…
Well, it could be, actually. It could mean that something went wrong with the thing’s creation and that’s the source of the pain. Which is an interesting theory, but it’s not like it really helps you figure out a way to address the problem.
You share your thoughts with Marian, just in case she has any ideas.
“Something unnatural,” she muses. “More than that – something with an existence that’s inherently in conflict with reality. The slime could be a buffer, creating a space within reality where it can survive.”
“All right, say that’s it. Does that translate into a plan? We might be able to destroy whatever’s inside from out here, but it’s hard to say what that would do if we don’t even know what it is.”
“I don’t think we even can if I’m right. Anything that passes through the slime would be subject to whatever rules govern the core.”
“Except this wood,” you muse, staring at the handle. “The slime doesn’t seem to like it. Does that fit into your theory at all?”
She looks over the wood. Then she smirks.
“I think I have an idea.”