{"id":179,"date":"2026-02-28T21:24:11","date_gmt":"2026-02-28T21:24:11","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/manifested.one\/?page_id=179"},"modified":"2026-05-23T06:23:21","modified_gmt":"2026-05-23T06:23:21","slug":"elementor-179","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/manifested.one\/?page_id=179","title":{"rendered":"Chapter 1"},"content":{"rendered":"\t\t
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Sanctuary for a Night\u00a0<\/span><\/strong><\/h1>\n

<\/p>\n

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\u201cBless the stars. Blay Bughunter!\u201d A spry grin cracked Zefymi\u2019s lips as Blay strode into the light. Water was dripping from Blay\u2019s hair, wild white, as rivuletes crawled along his armour, dripping down and puddling on the hardwood floor.
\u201cGood to see you again.\u201d He gave the inkeeper a gracious bow, then hobbled to her table. The gentle lantern light seemed dazzling through Blay\u2019s green goggles. \u201cIt\u2019s about time I came here,\u201d he said as he sat down across from Zefymi. \u201cThe woods and wastes left me famished.\u201d
\u201cOh, I\u2019m sure.\u201d Said Zefymi, still beaming. \u201cBut you\u2019re back in the right place.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

The Inkeeper\u2019s assistant perched dutifully by his matron\u2019s side, directly across from Blay. Giri, a freckle-cheeked lad, thirteen years old, straightened proudly as Blay looked him over.
\u201cRemember who I am?\u201d Blay asked.
\u201cI never forget a face,\u201d the lad replied.
\u201cEven one that became this frail?\u201d
\u201cPerhaps your face has changed some, but your deeds remain.\u201d Giri turned to the matron. \u201cCan I get the Bughunter started with a drink?\u201d
\u201cMay I.\u201d Zefymi corrected. \u201cAnd he needs to eat as well. Didn\u2019t you hear the hero? The woods and wastes left him famished.\u201d
Giri opened his mouth, but Blay spoke first. \u201cI\u2019ll have stew, bread, and boiled water. Twice each please.\u201d
\u201cAye, you shall,\u201d said Giri. \u201cTwo of each I\u2019ll give you. Big and steaming. Would you be liking any mead, or perhaps some cider to soothe your sorrows?\u201d
\u201cNo!\u201d Zefymi cut in. \u201cHe just listed what he\u2019d like. Bughunters drink water! Why must this weary man suffer the temptations of your dumb mouth?\u201d
Head shaking, Zefymi turned away from the boy. \u201cI\u2019m sorry, Blay.\u201d
\u201cNo need to be,\u201d said Blay.
\u201cAn apology for my rudeness,\u201d Giri spoke. He spun and scurried into the depths of the smoky kitchen.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u201cGiri.\u201d Zefymi spat the name. \u201cThe boy does not shine as bright as his father did.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cPerhaps. Yet few Stoneyfolk ever shined half as brightly as Hale Brayflame.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Blay loosened the straps of his green goggles and lifted them to rest against his forehead. His face felt lighter as the pressure released, and the pink grooves carved around his eyes revealed.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNear every inn in Deepthicket ravaged,\u201d said Zefymi, tucking thick strands of oily orange hair behind her ears. \u201cWith windows shuttered, scouts stationed, and pitchforks near every hand. Not near enough. The cursed bugs sense the liveliness within, and hunger to ruin it. Every inn along the Daggar Road ravaged, save our Storm\u2019s Eye. Oh, I’ve collected plenty enough weapons. Thirty pitchforks from the farms…\u00a0 \u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThat many sharpened tines are a fine start!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAye. My patrons and I never touch them, though. I have more useless weapons, growing beards of rust down in the dark, lined up in rows against my basement wall.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhy are they untouched?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Zefymi snorted. \u201cYou of all folk should know why. Dark drink and sharpened weapons mix about as peacefully as a burning coal dropped into Yellow Dust. But… we Stoneyfolk thank the Bughunter\u2019s blessing for our survival. And now, we must be double-blessed.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cBughunter\u2019s blessing?\u201d Blay gave a sharp chuckle. \u201cThe Storm\u2019s Eye <\/span>was<\/span> our favourite ,\u201d he admitted. \u201cBut regardless, you and your Stoneyfolk must prepare. Begin by noon tommorow. Drill yourselves before the drinking starts. Each morning, I urge you, start preparing. And every dusk, expect them.”\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Zefymi gave a loud snort. \u201cPrepare to hide and hope, you mean? We Stoneyfolk lack the talents to drive bugs away. No. Without your protection anymore, a blessing is all we have.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThat’s not neccesarily true,\u201d Blay countered. \u201cI\u2019ll be travelling to Tyr soon, before the seasons turn. There I\u2019ll purchase a keg of fine Yellow Dust for you.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u201cYellow Dust is it?\u201d Her buggish eyes went wild. \u201cHah! I hate the monsters more than most. But not near enough to blow my inn to bits for hope of wounding one.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWe’re not trying to break a siege here. I’ll make portions of the keg for you.<\/span> You\u2019d need no more than half a handful.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“That little?”<\/p>\n

“The blinding flash and great loud bang that half a handful of Yellow Dust makes when it is lit… will save your inn some night.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Zefymi leaned slowly back. Pondering, making him wait.<\/span><\/p>\n

At last, she shook her head. \u201cNot a chance, I\u2019m afraid. I can count too many reasons against your idea.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Blay felt a surge of fire flare up in him. <\/span>Has Zefymi truly turned so cold since my last visit? <\/span><\/i>But as he breathed cooling breaths, his answer dawned. He knew the woman\u2019s mind. A shrewd intelligence that yearned for sober sparring partners.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMany reasons have you?\u201d he prodded.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAye!\u201d Zefymi\u2019s huge eyes squinted down at him, barely able to conceal her mounting glee. Blay held his glare on her defiantly, giving time for her to brew the inevitable speech.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u201cYou Bughunters,\u201d she began, \u201cas all we Stoneyfolk well know, were well funded by our sweet queen. I might forgive you then, Blay Bughunter, for not already knowing the reason of my reluctance. Yellow dust, say you. From Tyr. A city with a thousand masters, and millions of allegiances more tumultuous than the sea which parts our lands.<\/span>\u00a0And you, Bughunter, speak of Tyr like it were a village, just days down the Daggar Road. You speak of its rarest product like salt.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cLady Yellow will be eager to give a fresh keg to me. Because a true story is worth-\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAye.\u201d She cut him off. \u201cWe all remember Maggie Raine, biggest and bravest of you all, according to most. Blew a bug to bits with nothing but a candle, string, and a fortune in Yellow dust. All while the rest of you boulder-footed Bughunters were hiking up the hill to join her. By the time you made it, we hear, there was nothing left to hunt but gooey bits of shell.”\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cLady yellow invested fortunes in us, I don’t doubt. <\/span>But by arming Maggie, she now has a story. A folk story, made<\/span> of a Bughunter, with Yellow dust.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u201cAye. We Stoney folk tell the stories well. It’s a rare traveller that leaves my inn without knowing them! But to we Stoney folk, Yellow dust is finicky, dangerous stuff. Far too pricey without the Queen\u2019s coin.\u201d Pausing, she swept her gaze over the nearby patrons, and leaned in. Her lips curled into a snarl to reveal rows of huge, gravestone teeth. <\/span>One tooth, near the back of her lower row, was a rotted shade of dead brown. \u201cBughunter\u2026.\u201d she rumbled, \u201cSome of the dirty mutants, or nomads as you like to call them, are cursed with extra sets of ears. If they ever heard that I was in possession of such a precious keg, well\u2026 we could expect their cousins that very night.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cTrue,\u201d said Blay grimly, leaning back as the stench of rot wafted from deep inside her giant mouth. \u201cBut a Bughunter\u2019s blessing\u2026 I\u2019ve never taken you, of all folk, to be a believer in such things. That you would trust this many lives to superstition. I must\u2019ve had you wrong all this time.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNo one said you had to believe it! What\u2019s your point?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not quite sure what it is,\u201d he spoke softly. \u201cIt\u2019s simply strange to be met with such defiance, when all I\u2019m doing here is to protect you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOf course you are.\u201d Zefymi sighed. \u201cYet I\u2019ve enough fears to keep me up at night, and no great need of an explosion dormant beneath my bed. A Yellow pregnancy, if you will.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u201cI\u2019m sure you\u2019ve nursed many.\u201d Blay lowered his gaze, letting her simmer hotly. She kept scowling, until Blay looked up sharply. \u201cImagine it,\u201d he said. \u201cOpening your door at night to a bulging eye looking back. Sagging grey flesh filling the doorway. And in the eye, a throbbing scarlet pupil, huge enough your could sink your fist into it, if only the draysk couldn\u2019t pluck your hand from you like a berry from a bush.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Zefymi\u2019s wild gaze darted around, checking to see who might be listening. <\/span>She\u2019s desperate to keep them feeling protected by the \u2018blessing,\u2019 <\/span><\/i>Blay observed. \u201cCan you imagine them?\u201d he continued, gesturing to the very guests Zefymi had just been peering over. \u201cDeep at night\u2026 a quiet night, suddenly aroused by the sound of something above. It\u2019s thumping on the roof, trying to get in. And when that wretched night arrives, you\u2019ll forget all memory of the Bughunter\u2019s blessing and reach instead for my parting gift, if you have it. You\u2019ll reach for Yellow dust, and nothing again will ever feel like so much safety.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAye\u2026 and we\u2019ll be in your debt forever after. Or worse, the Yellow debt.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhen the wretched night brings bugs, it will seem priceless. But worry not about the price. Don\u2019t trouble yourself when you\u2019ve troubles enough, Zefymi. I\u2019m well favoured in Tyr. For me to accept a gift from Lady Yellow would honour her. I promise you, I\u2019ll deliver a keg full of fine Yellow dust, if you simply promise me to prepare to use it.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Zefymi huffed, nervous fingers tapping on the table.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou could run away,\u201d he said. \u201cOr stay to watch it ravage. Everything Gone in minutes. Or, with Yellow dust, you could scare it away. Pay for their lives in stink and smoke, and chilling memories. I need a decision.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cBlay\u2026\u201d she purred. \u201cWhy must you defy me?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t believe in blessings,\u201d Blay spoke, not bothering to lower his voice. \u201cBut I believe the Storm\u2019s Eye is worth defending. These good Stoneyfolk, trusting you-\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAlright! Now you hush.\u201d She relented. Zefymi huffed, eyes darting, but slowly settling as the din of her patrons continued, oblivious. \u201cLook!\u201d She hissed, rocking the table as she bore forward on her elbows. \u201cIf you trade in Tyr, word of that will reach the nomads.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOh, yes I see. Nothing good would come of it.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNot at all. So, I\u2019ll send someone lesser known than you to Tyr, and give them my coin to pay in secret.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u201cTruly?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve already given us enough, Bughunter. I promise I would not lie to you.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cGood then. It\u2019s a wise choice you\u2019ve made, old friend.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI know.\u201d Zefymi grinned, as if the ordeal she\u2019d put him through had been for sport. But her face hardened again when she saw Giri coming.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

The servant came bearing bread and stew, but before he could place their water, his matron stopped him with a word. \u201cWait! You\u2019ve kept us waiting, haven\u2019t you? Enjoying a little freedom in the kitchen. Peering out the window again? Is that steam I sense?\u201d She beckoned the boy closer, to hold her face over the brass flagon tucked in the crook of Giri\u2019s arm. Cheeks darkening, she recoiled. \u201cBoiled does not mean boiling!\u201d She bellowed. \u201cI ought to make you drink it.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d Giri stammered, straining to hold himself still as the heavy flagon slowly slipped.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Holding in anger, Blay put a hand on the boy\u2019s shoulder. \u201cYou got my order right.\u201d Swiftly, he took the flagon and set it down before Zefymi could object. Zefymi huffed and glared at her servant.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThat was great service, Giri,\u201d she said at last. \u201cVery great. I see you\u2019ve swiftly served our other patrons as well. But we adults have matters to discuss. Go get scrubbing.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWe do?\u201d asked Blay. \u201cJust now I\u2019d rather fill my mouth with food than words. I say he\u2019s welcome to join our table.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Smiling sheepishly, Giri began to sit, but Zefymi set her hand flat on the boy\u2019s seat, cocking her head toward the kitchen. Giri sprang up, as if the fingers splayed across his seat were rods of scorching metal. \u201cWell, please enjoy your supper,\u201d he said, giving Blay a bow.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Blay lifted a finger, telling him to wait. \u201cBefore you go, then\u2026\u201d Blay flicked his wrist and something sparkled through the air. Giri caught it deftly, opening his hand to reveal a golden coin. \u201cA tip,\u201d said Blay. \u201cIn case I don\u2019t see you again.\u201d Giri\u2019s eyes widened as he played the coin swiftly through his fingers.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0For a moment, Blay revelled in the boy\u2019s marvel, but the marvel soon winked away when he turned to face his matron. \u201cMay I keep it?\u201d he asked with a stoney voice.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOh, aye,\u201d she answered. \u201cBut when you go back to the kitchen, keep your eyes pointed into the pot!\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re spoiling him,\u201d grumbled Zefymi, the moment Giri was gone. \u201cSoon he\u2019ll start begging me for a wage.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI think he should have it.\u201d Blay tore off a piece of bread and began chewing, focusing all his senses on the stew. It was thick and green and smelled of fresh summer.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAh!\u201d Zefymi grinned. \u201cYou arrived just in time to savour my final batch of sprouts. You lucky lad! Those delicious sprouts you\u2019re smelling are from the final crop of summer\u2019s harvest. You\u2019ll discover my stew is seasoned with the finest Tyrish spices. Quite a compliment to the senses, no?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Blay swallowed the last bit of loaf and took a great swig of water. It tasted vaguely of cider. Scalding hot, it was almost boiling still. Without a wince, he drank it down, belching a plume of steam as he set down an empty cup.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u00a0and was scalding hot, almost boiling still. He didn\u2019t wince, but drank it all down, belching a plume of steam as he set down his empty cup. Zefymi chuckled as Blay carefully lifted the first bowl of stew to his cracked lips. \u201cI can offer more of everything. Just give Giri a command and he\u2019ll bring whatever your heart desires, steaming fresh from the kitchen.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Soon, Blay set down an empty bowl. \u201cAh\u2026\u201d He sighed in bliss. \u201cI\u2019ll admit. It feels like lifetimes since I could really rest.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sure it\u2019s been far too long,\u201d Zefymi agreed. \u201cYou\u2019ll be sleeping here tonight.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI believe I will. My stomach loves this place.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cGood! Your safe return deserves to be celebrated. You haven\u2019t stayed here since you were with the Expedition!\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAye. That was the last time…\u201d he sighed.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThe last time you could really rest, you mean?\u201d Zefymi gave a playful swat. \u201cYou flatter me.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNot at all. It\u2019s the truth.\u201d Blay paused, holding the second bowl of stew halfway to his mouth. \u201cMy head has not felt the softness of a pillow since my Storm\u2019s Eye bed.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThat was weeks ago.\u201d Cheer fell from Zefymi\u2019s face, as knots of worry took hold.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Blay set down the bowl and crunched into a hard, burnt corner of bread. The stench of stew was sickly sweet. He shoved the bowl away and washed his throat with scalding water. \u201cHold on\u2026 don\u2019t dare tell me. \u201d Zefymi\u2019s voice went dark. \u201cHave you been hunting?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

As he nodded, Blay was acutely aware of the folk surrounding them. He tenseley squeezed the table\u2019s edge. Gripping hard, his attention turned to the sensations of pressure in his fingers, forcing air through his burnt throat. \u201cNothing\u2019s changed,\u201d he growled at last. Purpled fingertips felt the bumps of old candlewax stuck to the underside of the table. Numb fingers traced the seams of old scratches.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThe only difference now is I\u2019m alone.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Zefymi leaned away, twisting a lock of her hair with thick, callused fingers. \u201cNothing\u2019s changed\u2026?\u201d she echoed. Blay tore off more of his second loaf. Crunching and chewing as Zefymi sighed again and again. At last, the great woman bore forward. \u201cHunting alone isn\u2019t nothing, Blay. It\u2019s everything!\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhy are you trying so hard to sway me?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhy? Oh why. Because I\u2019m apparently the only person here who cares whether you continue living.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Blay took a massive bite and chewed, tasting nothing.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou want to die, is that it?\u201d Zefymi continued. \u201cYou want to lie rotting on the Thicket floor with the rest of the Expedition.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIt doesn\u2019t matter what I want.\u201d Blay swallowed, swishing his tongue across his teeth to clear them of the bitter black flakes. \u201cMy hunt\u2019s been fruitless. The last time I met a draysk was the day the swarm attacked. I haven\u2019t since found even a single draysk path.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThen I dare say you\u2019ve been lucky. Recall that you came to me directly after that same swarm attacked the Expedition. You thought of the Storm\u2019s Eye. You thought of home! That was one good judgment of you. If you told me then, in the wake of their doom, that you intended to keep hunting\u2026\u201d Zefymi gave a haughty huff. \u201cI\u2019m sorry to say, but I would have kept you here. Whether you wanted to or not.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI would not have let you,\u201d Said Blay. \u201cAfter the swarm attacked, my only wish was to find each one of the attackers and end them.\u201d The table groaned, bringing Blay\u2019s awareness to his gripping fingers, clamped around the edge.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhere have you been?\u201d pleaded Zefymi.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Blay inhaled slowly, watching the innkeeper\u2019s thick, many-ringed fingers quiver.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDeepthicket,\u201d he answered.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOf course!\u201d She let burst. \u201cDeepthicket is all around us. I\u2019ll wait for the story.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201c…Okay.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Blay willed his memory back to Deepthicket.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Darkness. Pressed in from every side by spear-tip branches, and itchy, infested bramble. All was jumbled. It seemed impossible to separate the threads of time from that dark drone. Whatever the true answers, Zefymi left no choice. He had describe something.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u201cI tried following our final path,\u201d he started. \u201cBut\u2026 we\u2019f diverged from it. We\u2019d gone deep that day. The swarm\u2026 found us far from any path.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cKeep going.\u201d Zefymi had a rare quiet about her, poised.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI wanted to bury them. Reclaim their belongings, and bring back our relics to the families. I tried to retread our every step, but\u2026 I couldn\u2019t find them.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAh.\u201d Zefymi released a sigh. \u201cIf <\/span>you<\/span><\/i> couldn\u2019t discover the fateful place, it\u2019s lost. I dare say good. Better we remember them alive and hearty, riding on victory, and let that bloody graveyard remain imaginary.\u201d<\/span>
<\/span>\u201cPerhaps.\u201d Blay heard himself distantly. The inn surrounding his body was just noise. He was inside again. Deep. Inside the Thicket, nearing the group of companions.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u201cHey there.\u201d Zefymi reached over and squeezed his hand in hers. The clutch of her massive hand enclosed him. Even in tenderness, he felt the matron\u2019s domineering strength. \u201cCome back to me,\u201d she coaxed. \u201cI have better questions to ask.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

He nodded. Zefymi kept holding. Heat was pouring from her hearth-hot blood, flowing into and warming his own.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhy?\u201d She asked. \u201cWhy come home now, when you prefer hunting bugs out there? <\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

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Sanctuary for a Night\u00a0 \u201cBless the stars. Blay Bughunter!\u201d A spry grin cracked Zefymi\u2019s lips as Blay strode into the light. Water was dripping from Blay\u2019s hair, wild white, as rivuletes crawled along his armour, dripping down and puddling on the hardwood floor.\u201cGood to see you again.\u201d He gave the inkeeper a gracious bow, then […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-179","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/manifested.one\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/179","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/manifested.one\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/manifested.one\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/manifested.one\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/manifested.one\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=179"}],"version-history":[{"count":50,"href":"https:\/\/manifested.one\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/179\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":747,"href":"https:\/\/manifested.one\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/179\/revisions\/747"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/manifested.one\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=179"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}