---

The Beginnings of Godhood

To Mater Lei, Césure nodded in thanks, offering a warm smile of the kind he found only proper to give to one appreciative of fine clothing. His mind, godly as it now had grown, began to acclimate him to the notion of simply knowing things. It wasn't omniscience per se, but it was near enough as to be almost indistinguishable. Practically speaking, he understood and grew passingly familiar with the kinds of godly brethren and sistren he would be sharing this world with. Gods of life, and kindness, and light, spurring forth civilization. Gods of rot, and madness, and corruption, tearing things down into more baser flavours of existence. And yet more gods, those of Kap Gam and Mater Lei's ilk, who seemed to favour neither side whilst holding their own goals close to their chests.

Whatever the case may have been, many of the gods were now going about their own works, and it would be some time before they were to congregate as one group again, if ever. Césure had an inborn sense now, of what he was to do, and what would need to be done, in his capacity as the God of Death. Pelegath might lay claim to the Domain of Death, by way of his rotting manners, but when Césure exited the fortress and looked upon the swamp that he had wrought, Césure saw new life, not death. More of the Domain of Nature, by Virgule's own guess. And then there was that Larwen monstrosity, who saw fit to twist and pervert for the sheer sake of it. Césure could have described it in many, many different ways, but as a true God of Death? Never. And so through both a kind of innate memory, and also a desire that seemed to echo the man he had once been, Césure set out on foot to explore the world before him. After all, the Master of Mortality must know the realms of mortals.

---

Five minutes of walking passed, before Cés got bored. With the ease of thought, he floated up into the sky and began to appraise the land with a bird's perspective. He could leave the land-stalking off until there was more of note to see than just barren plains and the occasional mountain range. He rushed over the mountains to the west of The Beach of The Gods and soon found himself looking down on a massive inland sea. A vast peninsula jutted into the body of water, and Césure could also see a large island which while imposing, was too close to the coast by far. A kind of smile, that blended the grim coldness of godhood with Cassidy's old good-natured fun, struck Césure's face. His first great work was upon him.

Césure alighted over the long peninsula, hovering over the point where the coast turned into the sea and summoned his godly might. Perhaps an aspect of waters would have been a better choice for this task but Césure cared not. His realm would be forged by his hand and his alone, for Death was his Domain and his alone. Vast rumbling shook the earth, and dark tendrils of energy rippled through the hundreds upon hundreds of kilometres that acted as the connection between what was to become his Seat of Power, and the common land before surrounding it. With a final mighty cry, Césure hewed the earth from where it had stood, and churning waters rushed in to fill the gap, creating an island where once there had been none.

Césure looked upon his newly forged island, Surm, from where it stood balefully in the still-churning waters of the Sea of Suremus, and was pleased. The work that came next would not be so difficult, but just as enjoyable.

The island itself was unmolded and tame, which would not do, for the kingdom of a God of Death, and so Césure drew forth upon his might once more, and once more the very earth itself trembled with fear at his Might. The island rose up, propelled forth from the ground until it settled to a standstill hundreds of metres higher than it previously had lain, and in addition to that, at the centre of the isle, wicked spires had burst up from the ground, forming a kind of thicket of spikes upon which a platform of earthen rock had been speared. It was beautiful, and it was where he would build his palace of death. But in order to do so, he would need servants, beings who could be granted access to his holy grounds, but also who would be able to defend him and flourish in spreading the death that he would require them to be disciples of, and so they could not be allowed to be numerous, they would have to concentrate all of their power on being true servants of Death, rather than dependants of Life.

Césure thought long and hard about who they must be, his sons and daughters, before drawing deep within himself, within his Might, and pressing a hand to the crystalline black rock spikes that jutted forth from the ground. The powers of Death, manifest in black lightning, cut through some of the crystal, a material Césure dubbed Surmite, and sculpted two bodies, the lightning cutting through crystal with a terrible shearing sound. These two sculpted figures gradually lightened in colour, softening from the cold surface of crystal into beings of flesh and blood, the black lightning rippling through them and beating within them, like a kind of rhythmic pulsing.

"My children," Césure pronounced darkly, his voice echoing with the terrible majesty of his godhood. "I dub thee Suremuse Koguja, the Gatherers of Mortality." A broad smile split his face and he cast his arms wide to pull his son and daughter into his embrace. They felt cold, like the Surmite they had been wrought from, but within them he felt his own pulsating spark of death that was life, and it felt good to know that he had servants to aid him in his most burdensome task. "More personally, you my son, shall be called Andja. And you my daughter, shall be called Saaja." Both of his children accepted his embrace, and their new names, nodding slowly as if they only vaguely understood. He would have to spend time teaching them all the things they would need to know, in order to prepare them for what he had planned. However there was one last thing that he must attend to, one last Mighty deed that required doing.

His holy citadel would have to be properly prepared before it was created, which required time, however that which it would protect, enshrine, and be strengthened by could not wait a moment longer. Under the watchful and glowing black eyes of his newborn children, Césure knelt down onto the ground and conjured up his Might for one last great task. He reached down far below the earth, into the planet's core, and plucked from it something most potent indeed. This newly pilfered object sped up through the earth at godly speed and in mere minutes, the faintest of tremblings could be felt before a powerful quake rocked the Sea of Suremus as the frothing waters spat out a massive chunk of metal which flew up in an arc towards Surm's plateau. Césure leapt out into the air and seized the massive metal, lifting it back over to the plateau where he set it down and gently rubbed his hands over its shining surface. His cufflinks on his suit had already torn the delicate fabric, a detail which could not be ruined as Césure observed that the cufflinks had been flattened and stuck to the metal, by a force of magnetism that was difficult for mortal minds to wrap their heads around. Andja himself was gently poking at the cufflink, which resembled a flat piece of gold leaf, and Césure touched his hand gently and bade him be calm.

"Come my children, I shall teach you language, and knowledge, and many other things, and tomorrow, we will begin our great constructions. Death's shadow shall be cast long, and far, but even Death must have its small beginnings."

---

Lasis stood up slowly from her meditation, thinking of the conflicts of the gods and their attacks and praises of each other. So far she had remained out of the way, but she had to act eventually. She grabbed her book, detaching it from the strap and lifting it up. Opening the tome, she then began to read. She read for a brief few minutes of various things, before reaching with her free hand into the book. With some strain, she began to pull something from the pages.

It was hard work. She worked at it, straining herself, making sure to get it perfect. Just then, the resistance against her tugging suddenly gave way, and he arm flew up, pulling out a golem. The golem fell to the floor, looking around in a confused manner. She looked at the golem, raising her golden eyebrows in a friendly manner, before implanting instructions within its mind.

The golem was never to follow the social order. It would travel from place to place, creating art and innovating where it saw need. Should it be demanded to submit to an authority, it would refuse, under any circumstances. It would aid those who would rebel against their social order, should it see good in the rebel. All of these were its instructions. She reached into her book again, and then again.

Each time she pulled out a different golem, all made roughly in her image. Each one recieved the same instructions, and they milled around for a bit before moving on, following their instincts. They each went in a different direction, one into the tunnels, one to each cardinal direction, and one last one stayed in place, seeing the need in the area for art. The last golem frolicked with the faeries, and, after conjuring up their own brush and paints using the residual power of their creation, began to paint on the walls of the fortress of the gods.

"Creation yes, but far from anything great. Just fish and algae. Plan, no. I don't have any plans, not yet." Orfai replied simply as he looked around; the land here was still barren. Perhaps he should lend a helping hand of sorts... "Secrets? Oh I can help with that- for I am the Keeper of Secrets and the Lord of Knowledge itself- but aside, if it is to support beings, it will need more than this. I shall help with this."

Orfai raised a shadowy hand out towards the island behind them, raising his voice and singing a chorus of notes; from the ground sprouted several large deciduous trees; they rose some 40 feet into the air and had many large long swirly branches from which hung fan-like leaves. Through the acceleration of Orfai's magic, these trees emerged not only fully grown but already with fruit in the form of large, soft and juicy red fruit for Rytia's birds to eat - and in doing so spread the seeds across the islands.

And then he reached out with his mind across to 'Him'. It was a strange feeling to convene with himself even across this distance- and it wasn't easy, at least not yet. But he managed to send 'Him' a message of sorts, a beacon with which to follow.

"So Rytia, what will these people of yours be?" Orfai said as he turned away from the sprouting trees and folded his shadowy arms again. "For I may yet have a request to make of you."

***

And 'He' did follow it. With the broken gramophone and the strange record carefully in his shadowy embrace, 'He' followed across the oceans towards his master. As useless as the oddity was now (And indeed, quite probably as useless as it was forever), it was strange and wonderful enough that he wanted it. Perhaps in time he or a servant of his might learnt something from it, however small, or perhaps it would remain completely useless forevermore and exist no more as a curious museum piece of cumbersome tableweight. 'He' didn't particularly care, for They were collectors.

---

Larwen stirred from where he sat, the god had worked hard in the short time he had arrived there. Pervanon would grow deep in his image, this he knew. For his will was great and his divinity without question. It would become the jewel of his empire, in time. He would show his siblings the wrongness of their beings, their very creations would attune to his own will. But first, he needed creations of his own, servants and workers to bring about a crusade unlike Galbar would perhaps ever see. The Universe would bow to him, and him alone, but great rulers needed a foundation on which to build. Here in the deepness that was Pervanon, where the rock and stone were already succumbing to his will, he would make Kap Gam’s Ley, the fungus of souls, the embodiment of his perfection.

The pureness of his creations would be manifested here, unlike what he had shaped before. The Vyre and Goldari were perfect, he made no mistake, but they were still tainted with his sibling’s powers. The God of Perfection needed something new, free from such imperfections.
Larwen then placed the fungi on the cold, damp stone. They glowed softly in the darkness that permeated the entirety of his home. Next, he placed his right hand a top the Ley and used his might to give them new purpose.

"Grow." The God whispered.

The fungi then darkened, soaking in the malevolent power of Larwen, drinking in the god’s essence like a thirsty child. And in the darkness of Pervanon, the fungus grew larger, dark spores erupted from it like arrows, spreading the cancer he had created across the cave walls. It grew black, shades of dark red rippled through it’s surface, splitting the Ley like sliced flesh. The spores grew into smaller versions of the fungus, with trails of red lines that each ran back the main ley. Not unlike a spider web, but it would fade in time. The Perfected Ley, which now stood as tall as he and hummed with a dark power, was beautiful.

Larwen smiled, for he could feel the souls within, growing stronger with pureness unlike Galbar, or his even siblings, would ever see. He examined the flawless Ley he had molded, and truly he was satisfied with it. This exemplary creation would spread, covering the entirety of Pervanon, it’s depths, to the rest of the Anathema Heights and then the world, but slowly. The souls they would harbor would be different from the original Ley, more entuned to his will and his image. They were far apart from the original, imperfect Ley, but Larwen knew wherever they met, battles for dominance would ensue. Until one side or the other won, but Larwen was confident in his creation. His perversion of the natural world was undeniable, and as equally challenging to fight.

Perfected and imperfect souls now resided in the world. One of unnatural perversions, and his, who would soon be the forefathers of his perfection. His divine work, had only just begun. But Larwen was tired now, and the souls were not yet ready from him to mold. So he shut his eyes, and thought upon his great works to come.

Rytia had been busily rearranging the tunnels of this first island, continuing to sharpen the tone that rang through it, and at first did not notice the creations behind her. Not until she turned and saw the already-rather-great trees sprouting in the soft soil above the cliffs. Her mouth fell open slightly, gaping at the structures, but she was thankful that she did not have to do the work all herself. And that this other God - she still did not know his name - did have a sense of aesthetic. She hummed a low verse and a few plumes danced from her fingertips, being shaped in the breeze with ease now that she had made them once before, and arced off over their heads to nestle in the branches of one of the larger trees.

The lord of secrets and even knowledge itself, eh? He seemed to have some plan, despite having spoken to the contrary a few moments before. He'd asked what her people were going to be, and mentioned that he had a request. She took an opportunity to think as she hummed a plant into existence, a vine that crawled along where the topsoil hung over the edges of the low cliffs, anchoring the soil into place and touching the dark gray cliffs with color, curling deep green stems and white-streaked fuchsia blossoms several inches across starting to cascade down the cliff faces and perfuming the air with a light scent.

At length, after several moments of admiring her work, she spoke softly. "I would be honored to fulfill your request- depending, of course, on what it is. In regard to my people, well.... you will see shortly." She knelt in the sand then, singing soft words in an ancient language that she could not remember how she knew, air and water and the earth she'd just raised swirling about, forming into a humanoid shape that stood just shy of five feet tall. A shimmering skin formed over it, features seemingly chiseled in as she sang.

What she was left with, as her song tapered off, was a curious being. At just shy of five feet tall, it had a very spindly frame, very long fingers and toes that were slightly webbed, and pale skin that shimmered softly, with delicately pointed ears and a row of gills barely visible along one side of its neck. It had large - mesmerizing - eyes, molten gold in color, thin lips a hue of faded raspberry red, and long locks of satiny hair that seemed to shift in color through every hue of red and orange and yellow. It was female in form, all soft curves and gentle movements, though for the moment it stood still as the music goddess circled about it, and sang every bit of her own curiosity and creativity into it, her desire to create music and words and art and put into melody everything she saw.

Rytia turned for a moment, facing Orfai once more, her hand going to gently rest on the shoulder of her creation, gently holding it in place for the other god's inspection. "If you are in fact the... lord of secrets, perhaps my vision is not the one you share. Brilliant beings, the sort one never forgets, the sort remembered in myth and legend as having led even the most noble astray with tantalizing song and word.... Curious and impulsive, eternally seeking more stories to tell, more songs to write."

As she spoke, seven more of the beings rose from the sand around her. Ranging in size from four feet to five and a half feet tall, features ranging across all colors of the spectrum. Curiously, there seemed to be only one male in the bunch, and his form was distinguished only in his reproductive anatomy - his frame and stature and overall vibrancy of appearance comparable to the females.

Though the one she currently held stood still under her grasp, the others were bound by no such thing, and so promptly ran off across the beach all in a pack, kicking up water and sand in their webbed feet and laughing in melodic bell tones. Though she could not grace them with language yet - her mind had faltered as she struggled to think of how it could be done, the enormity of the task stumping even her- there was almost no need for it, every movement of their bodies and peal of laughter, every hum and murmur and sound expressing a range of nuanced emotion and idea.

Orfai watched the Goddess work with a cocked brow; her creations were beautiful and ethereal, and had great empathy. Even without words (and without relying too much on his divine senses) he could tell what they were feeling and doing. But he noted too that they bore gills and webbing for the movement through water. That could be good or bad, as it meant that it might not be such an easy sell to get his Faliargun settled in the waters here as he had hoped. He'd find out. "You forget I am too in the business of knowledge and it's proliferation as well as the keeping of secrets. Something of a dual nature. But our vision doesn't have to match perfectly for what I will propose-"

'He' flowed through the waters as a shadow and swept up over the oceans, appearing out of the water on the beach behind Orfai and swirling around to come up to him, so that the two shadow figures stood side by side. The broken machine and the record were placed down onto the beach, stuck in the same part of the musicless music of time as it would be forever.

"Ah, wonderful." One of the two shadow beings said (It was rather difficult to tell which one had said what, as they spoke in the same voice and had no lips to move, nor did the sound seem to come directly from either one) as Orfai motioned to it with his shadowy hand. "This is what's left of what the Mater used to freeze time before- I'm sure you too will find it most interesting, and agree it makes quite the prize even if it doesn't function anymore."

"Hold on, this is going to get a little awkward." One of the pair said with amusement. For the sake of everyone's sanity, Orfai reconstituted into the form of a large Faliargun once again, brilliant bronze scales covering his body.

"Problem solved." The Keeper of Secrets declared as he nodded to his avatar, turning his attention back towards the Goddess. "This is 'He'. Me. A fragment of me rather, my avatar."

"It gets a bit complicated." 'He' said with a small grin, looking out over the islands and then to the waters around them with a slight nod of approval. "I see what I meant."

"Indeed. See, Rytia, I have a minor problem. I created an aquatic race, the Faliargun- you see them now in my form. I thought to leave them to multiply in the safety of the waters I had created- and then Larwen happened. The Corrupter decided it would be a wonderful idea to create the Goldari, that is to say to inject some powerful predators into the same waters. The Faliargun are too few in numbers to sustain any attrition from that, and they have little knowledge. They exist for now as little more than intelligent beasts, primitives. Now, usually I would be inclined to let things play out on their own, to leave it up in the air and see what happens. But there are so few thinking beings in the world at current that I'm not willing to let that happen. Can you imagine how difficult it is to be the god of secrets when there are no secrets? Knowledge when there is so little knowledge? It's quite infuriating, really." The God paused to prevent himself going too far on a tangent, returning to the topic at hand. "Anyway, the Mater has graciously given them refuge - and she made clear that it was temporary refuge- within the confines of her building. So I am searching for a more long term solution for them."

"Within this archipelago, there is safety for the Faliargun to retreat to should one of these Goldari show up, or to lose them amongst the islands. Here, they can catch fish and gather flora easy enough and in time, they could cultivate plants beneath the calm central waters for food. It could be suitable refuge while they grow in number, and they should not cause difficult for your people. Although they can temporarily walk- well, in a manner of speaking - on the land, they are most comfortable in the waters. If anything it should even be mutually beneficial, at least in these early stages- there is safety in numbers after all, and there is potential for the future." 'He' said, concluding the thoughts of Orfai himself.

"So what say you?" Orfai asked with a pleasant smile spreading across the face of his form.

Her head spun as she looked up from the sand and suddenly there were.... two of them? Two? Both speaking in the same voice. It immediately disoriented her.

The first of her Nerai tugged away from her hold, and the creature splashed off into the shallows after the others, diving into the water and sending arcs of droplets flying everywhere, its chittering carrying to the others splashing around in the warm waters.

She glanced back up at the god and his... avatar, and breathed a small sigh of relief as Orfai himself took a different form. Now she could give her full attention to what he was saying, and she listened mostly impassively as he explained his situation.

A dismissive wave of her hand soon followed, her mind made up as soon as he mentioned the corrupt god and his "predators". She had felt it, a wave of corruption in the gods' birthing place, and that was part of what had made her want to leave and strike off to her own land so soon. She wanted nothing that had been touched by it here, and would shelter those that also wanted nothing to do with that discordance.

"I would be glad to shelter your people, so long as there is no secret agenda for mine to wind up on the dinner menu...? - and that, if troublesome beings should come knocking, I shall have your word that you will help me defend and rebuild this place if need be. I am still.... newly acquainted to my powers and I fear I lack the martial skill and expertise to put another into their place.

But these are negotiations for later. Come with me, and we'll sort out their habitations. I anticipate my own people will thrive on the land, so do not worry about there being too much of an overlap in their spaces. Though it seems mine will have acquired a taste for fish, and for those pretty fruits you've made... I hope that won't cause problems."

With that being said, she spiraled up into the air, soaring to the edge of her spiral islands and diving down into the water, a hum bubbling in her throat as she stretched cracks in the stone islands into caverns, creating many large tunnels through the newly raised bedrock as well as through the bases of her own islands (though she was careful to not interfere with the resonance of them too much, keeping their living tunnels well away from the ones which produced the low flute-y sounds abovewater.) She was unsure how large of a tunnel system to carve out but it extended under the coral beds and to the very edges of the islands themselves- leaving plenty of room to grow, should the Faliargun need it later. She could always add more tunnels as time went on as well.

As she worked, she periodically glanced over her shoulder to Orfai, checking to make sure he was okay with the progress she was making.

---

The proclamation had ended as it had started; quickly. His voice reverberated throughout the great fortress, each passing echo shifted in timbre after the other until cessation. It was a 'spur of the moment' type ordeal, as the God was not one to be so verbose, instead terse. Ipeyr, somewhat embarrassed, took a moment to smooth his unwrinkled tunic and finally exit the fortress, stealing at glance at the austere grandeur of the stone building once outside. The protection it provided for the creations of this world was appreciated.

And a salty draught of air came upon the god as he looked to the expansure of the sea and it's lowly lapping waves on the beach. The benevolent sun shone it's radiance to the transparent waters of the ocean and akin to the night's sky it sparkled with dazzling flecks of prismatic light upon it's surface. The alabaster white sands merging beautifully with the waters at he beach's apex.

And this. He thought. Is the beauty of creation

Whilst Ipeyr's eyes remained fixed on the landscape, Elizer had taken morbid curiosity in a rotting tree. It was of Pelegath's doing, felled and reduced to nothing more than fibrous pulp; with miniscule creatures darting to and fro from it's dank insides. He outstretched his hand to grace the callus exterior, and when no harm befell the extremity Elizer silently rejoiced. One of the creatures scurried up his hand, it examining Elizer and vice versa. No more than half the length of his pinky, the insect had the properties of a modest beetle and stygian coloration; each of the being's curiosity growing with each passing moment.

"Rot"

The God has snuck up on the pair, Elizer startled, had jumped and thus the beetle scurried off. "Or Decay. The action which returns what was once living, now dead, to the earth; from whence it came. What is happening to that tree will happen to you, one day, Elizer. Life does have it's cessation, But even in Death, Life is created. For have you not witnessed the creations of brother borne from that Death?"

All Elizer could offer in response was an utter look of bewilderment, to which Ipeyr chuckled lightly. He'd learn in due time what his creator spoke of.

"And when you witness this, Decay, know that it is of my brother's doing. Pelegath. For it is he whom governs Death and Decay, the simplest process". He paused for a moment, thinking. He figured that he'd tell Elizer about some of his siblings.

"And when the ability to move is found within your fear, That is Faliir weaving his influence throughout your soul. And when you witness the crackling vermilion flames on a hearth, feel the primordial power, the Rage imbued within, know that is Grimloq's doing".

Elizer, seemingly showing some form of understanding looked to Ipeyr, and though wordless, from his being came a question; And what of you?

"I am what you see now, Elizer. The trees, the insects, the very grass you stand on. That Life you see is my doing"

Elizer understood most of what Ipeyr spoke, he too had been 'touched' by one of these beings, though one his creator failed to name. "Anywho....how are you, Elizer?"

No response.

"Oh..I forgot you can't talk yet...Sorry".

---

"You may consider me an ally, then," Promus replied to Regulus. He watched his fellow god work the magic of creation even as they spoke. A careful set of eyes reconnoitered every facet of the nascent griffins and the island turtle, and when it was done Promus punctuated the ordeal with a small nod of approval.

The presence of nearby mortals tugged at his attention, though. As he began to step away content in their newly forged (albeit informal) agreement, he felt the need to warn Regulus, "But you act with a youthful vigor and impulsiveness that has not been mine for many thousands of years; indeed, recklessness has cost me dearly in the past. I bid you choose your battles carefully and strive to act always with wisdom and precision; I would be loathe to find myself embroiled in a battle against all of the demons' combined might. Patience would serve us well; the lords of chaos lack foresight, and their brash nature will inevitably see them exposed."

He gave Regulus a moment to contemplate that counsel, then parted with a few more words, "I have already sent agents to keep vigil on what I perceive to be the three greatest threats. We shall speak more of this later; in the meantime, I think it best that we shroud this covenant from the others. Let them think that we each act alone, and then they shall underestimate us."

With that, Promus set off on foot. It was not often that he walked, but now the situation called for it; he made his way into the nearby forest where the trees and undergrowth would have hindered his flight. Already this wood had the appearance of an old place indeed; perhaps some sort of magic had been used to accelerate nature, or perhaps his perception of time had merely grown faulty after so many empty years of pain and imprisonment.

He banished those memories and repressed the aching pains of his body. With every footstep, a skin of true flesh grew around his celestial form until he eventually looked humanoid enough to not alarm the ones that he sought out, even if there was still no mistaking that he was a divine.

After a short while he came across what he was looking for: a lone centaur trod through the forest, foraging along a path. He approached the being without hiding, and as he drew closer the centaur sensed his presence and spun around. Fear was palpable upon its face in that first moment, and yet it did not run; Promus exuded an aura of serenity and order so powerful that it calmed even mortals as wild and uncivilized as these.

He was now standing mere feet away from the centaur. It still stared, but now its fear had made way for curiosity.

He reached out to brush a hand against the flesh of the one closest to him. He did not know the origin of this being; it had been made by a god that he had yet to make himself acquainted with, but it did not seem to be either monstrous or base. He sensed that it was were greater than mere a beast, and that it could understand and commune with other creatures if not with those that might equal it. It was of worthy breed, one that deserved his patronage and protection.

"I am Promus," he told the centaur simply. Even though they had neither language nor the capacity for speech, the words of a god (especially on of speech!) could be understood by all that the said god willed to understand. So it was that the meaning was placed directly into its mind, and the centaur understood just what Promus was, even if they hadn't already known of nature or existence gods and could hardly grasp the extent of his power.

"...and I bestow upon you and your kindred the gift of Speech."

---

It seemed like this planet had much more water than the last one she'd been a part of. The oceans covered so much of the surface that for a moment, she'd actually wondered if this was supposed to be an entirely oceanic kind of world, but her doubts were silenced when she stumbled onto land, a big continent with numerous mountain ranges and the potential to become something beautiful in the future... Then she realized this was in fact the same land on which the Oasis was located, and that she'd just gone around the world because she went the wrong way.

Still, this wasn't what she was looking for, no. In order to ensure that this world met with a more... Enjoyable fate than her last, setting up in large landmasses was undesirable.

Or maybe not. The more she explored the mountain ranges and saw the valleys and crevasses, the more she realized that there were quite a few spots good enough to start setting up in. Besides, while being in a large continent like this made sure that you'd eventually have to deal with sentient beings stumbling into your territory, it also meant you'd have a lot of options in the department of 'places to run off to when your house has been found by a mob of angry, scared people'.

So yeah. While she'd love for her little resorts and get-aways from life to be secluded, surrounded by ocean, it was true that being on an island prevented your escape as much as it made invasions difficult.

Of course, when she found a valley surrounded on all sides by steep mountains and whose only entrance was a crevasse between two of such mountains,she knew she'd hit the jackpot. Giddy, she planted some seeds borrowed from her Brother's forest along the valley and made sure they'd grow in the different, colder temperature, then she accelerated the growth of grass, planted her various flowers all across the valley and added a healthy dose of Squiggles.

Eventually, a proper valley had been created. Still, she was no Goddess of Creation or Building. She wasn't particularly creative either, so when the time came to actually build something that deviated from what her family had already created, she started to struggle. After hours of trying to build some kind of home at the foot of one of the mountains, her results showed her lack of ability.

A simple cabin stood alone in the valley. And while it certainly wasn't magnificent, she made sure it was functional. She made sure to include a small storage area for food and another for miscellaneous things such as wood. She also added a bedroom in the attic and worked some of her magic on the structure, ensuring a sound and safe infrastructure and that the inside was always at a comfortable temperature.

When everything was done, she walked out of the cabin, sat down on a nearby boulder and looked it over with a placid smile. After a while, she brought her palm up and created a small figure of a man with pure light. The figure seemed to run and jump and dance on her hand before disappearing. She kissed her palm.

"I can't wait to meet the mortals, I bet they're going to be very pleasant this time around..." She said softly before bringing her knees up to her chest - a somewhat awkward movement, considering her armor - and resting her hear on the tips of her knees. Soon, she'd closed her eyes and began waiting for time to pass. There wasn't much to do while her family was out and about being their creative selves.

Lei tapped her horn in salute to Césure, who left silently, with keen wide eyes, perhaps still unused to his new godhood, perhaps adjusting swiftly to the sights all around him. She let Promus greet the next arrival, who was of his own nature, and resolute therein. Still. She had to give Regulus some indication of who was Mater.

With a step and a long, single somersault, Lei crossed the skies to land effortlessly on the back of the Island Turtle.

"Well made, Regulus," she called, her voice spanning the intervening distance. One by one the griffins landed around her, watching for signs of chaos and entropy. Lei stomped the butt of her staff upon the back of the Turtle, and a pulse of life echoed into the sea below.

From the water, in wisps of dim magic, tiny creatures grew, helpless to the current yet none the less numerous for it as they sieved nourishment from the brine. Another stamp, and larger forms grew, ones with skeletons and brains, small and large, in the Turtle's shadow and where its flanks were washed by waves; they grew flippers, scales and finned tails, and crawled into the water, consuming one another as their smallest snapped for every flick of planktonic antennae.

Lei curled her hand. A wave doused her with spray, and the moisture formed a sea-lizard in her hand. "You know your duties. You have chosen to accept them. May your arbiters multiply over land and sea- their task is long." She tossed the reptile to the griffins, and they fed.

A flap of silk wings, and Lei soared once more to the horizon.

Regulus had just been greeted by two gods, and he was inspired by there worlds of encouragement. He would defend these world from chaos, and yet as he felt around using his divine sense, there was not much to protect. He reached out his spear to create a race of sentient creatures to call his own, and yet he paused. "No, this world is to dangerous for my children to created in." lowering the spear. "Yet, I can still add to the flora and fauna of this world."

He took his spear and threw out to the nearby forest. Once the spear hit the ground, he was there holding it in his hand.

He took the spear and punctuated a hole into the ground, and from the hole came rabbits and mice. He then swung it against a tree branch, and as it tree branch shook, wildcats appeared. He then took his spear and place it beside him, and at his side where wolves. He told his new beasts to spread across the land and to multiple.

---

The Flayed Prince spared no energy paying any mind to the prattling of his brethren. His time for indulgence was short and fleeting, and he would not waste it debating the idea of mortal enlightenment through derangement or shoring up an offense against ones jaded ideas of perfection.

Leaving the citadel of stone beneath his feet, Axnas ascended into the atmosphere. Here the warmth of his body's radiation remained shackled in an eternal cycle, passing through the atmosphere relatively unimpeded, yet remaining trapped within the planets shielding. A process essential to life's survival.

Galbar was yet another territory in his growing domain.

As such, he would adorn it in rich and beautiful works of exemplary craftsmanship, all paying homage to his endeavors, achievements and undeserved kindness. First, one of practicality was warranted.

Reaching for the nape of his neck, Axnas grasped a strip of thin tissue left untouched by his twin, stretching down his spine to the small of his back. He regarded the sinew. It would be adequate.

Raising his free hand to the sky, he willed forth the coalescing of sunshine, a combination of bright light and radiant heat, taken from the atmosphere which absorbed it. Burning brilliantly like the sun and searing with the heat of a white-hot fire, the mass the size of a coconut twisted and screamed in the palm of his hand.

It was magnificent.

Sinew in hand he took it and wound it tightly around the ball until no light shown through. Satisfied, he then began to mold the thing if it were clay, warping it until it began to take the shape of something organic. With a compact body, a broad head and powerful jaws the sculpture seemed almost life-like, staring straight ahead with eyes of fire.

"Flesh of my flesh, dazzling exemplar of my machination, come forthwith." Axnas pronounced, and he burned the sculpture.

Charred to a bitter coal black, life seemed to leave the little figurine. Yet in a sudden burst, an ethereal spark within its core became a wildfire of divine power, producing a flame visible even to those so far below.

Eyes crimson in color and as intense as the core of Axnas flared to life with spots of similar countenance marking the entirety of its void-like, stygian body. Long since had it outgrown the palm of its master, standing at 10 feet tall and spanning 12. It bowed humbly before him with feline grace and powerful muscles flexing beneath its fur.

Axnas placed his hand upon its chest, and it purred in response.



”My firstborn, first of the Balam ― agents of my inexorable imperative ― Onca, go forth, christen a territory befitting of my blessing and produce for me a people worthy of my affection.

Onca lowered herself before her father.

"As you will it, so shall it be done." she purred, her voice mellifluous and husky.

Without delay, powerful muscles contracted and coiled like springs, their tension causing vibrations in the air around her. With all true feline prowess, Onca shot like a piston and bound through the clouds at speeds incomprehensible to mere mortals.

Satisfied, Axnas ascended into space.

Mater Lei landed amidst the cypresses, pleased to find another deity already birthed and active. As she passed his creatures, she chose one out of every five and made it into either a hyrac or a chalicothere, creatures slower but more suited for life in thick woodland and swamp. She let them retain their ease of taming, and as the little dawn-horses clambered through the thickets and the chalicotheres pushed over saplings in the swamp, she sent the original horses out of her citadel, and enriched the grasses beyond to speed them on their way.

And then she walked on, to their creator.

"Faliir..." she said, with a bow, tasting the name even as she spoke it. "...You don't wait around, do you? Three minutes into existence and you're already a father. I'd advise Seidhara and Kap Gam to get away, but..." A transparent black figure of the Centaur arose from her palm. "...Judging by who mothered your first son, I'm not quite so concerned."

Lei didn't chuckle, but you could feel her smirking through her mask. She turned away and waved to the young god behind her. "Regardless, you've created something special. May your light-" Something scampered between the trees in front of her, and Lei stopped dead.

"An automaton!"

Mater Lei scurried after the painter-golem, and Faliir's introduction was cut short.

---

Lei chased the little golem, securing it with a pounce. It struggled for a little while in her arms as she opened its mind and saw what lay inside.

A daughter of Lasis, wrought to rebel. Against whom? Anyone. Always? Yes. Hmmm.

Lei let the little thing go, then watched as it graffitied a wall of her brutalist citadel. With a snap of her fingers, the fog of her magic grew thick around the golem, and covered the entire wall with art in its style- not a replication, just a homage. The golem looked around in fright as it saw that it was now painting the same patterns that adorned the wall for fifty metres around, and promptly changed its style.

Lei followed invisibly as the golem went about its business. Every time it changed style, she replicated it; when it took up sculpture instead, she littered the forest with every shape it could think of making; when it started defiling the art she had made, she wiped it clean; when it ignored her entirely she forced its hand; when it fought back she let it do so to its hearts content.

On and on she went with the charade, normalising everything the golem could do until all the only thing left to defy was its own miserable existence. The golem threw itself from the highest floor of the Keep, and the Goldari below obliged it gladly.

Just as planned.

Mater Lei hummed a merry tune as she danced her way back to the garden below.

_{Time: Takes place over a one-week period}

'In accepting and bestowing honor, even if it be only in a name, we challenge one another to strive for greater and to elevate our station from that of mere bestial and uncultured emptiness, Promus declared bemusedly as Seihdhara showed him Dwynen and praised Kap Gam's creative genius. She knew immediately that Azazael, unlike his uptight father, had smiled. She gave the veiled Watcher a sidelong glance before returning her attention to Promus, who immediately launched into what might have been a disparaging tirade. 'In that creature, I do see a sort of rugged beauty; it is that of an open canvas, of a stone that longs for the touch of a chisel, of a poem that resides in the imagination as it waits to be cast in words. It needs only a guiding hand to elevate it and enable it to achieve the greatness that is trapped within.'

Seihdhara and Dwynen gave one another an befuddled look, before they both turned back to Promus and Dwynen protested the god's words with a few irritated gestures - something about Promus' sire needing a guiding hand to perfect her. Luckily, Promus was no longer paying attention to the faery and left with some words of thanks. Seihdhara watched him go with a raised eyebrow. Dwynen plopped herself back onto Seihdhara's head, looked at Promus' turned back for a few moments, and flipped him the bird.

"We need to stay watchful for that god. Larwen's egocentrism will bring great misery to our creation. The gods who tried to negotiate failed, your words did not." Kap Gam was saying. Seihdhara turned back to her in time to see the goddess create an impressive whip with a flourish. The goddess of War and Martial Combat did not need to inspect the weapon too closely to see that it was a powerful, well-crafted thing. With words of farewell, Kap Gam then departed, leaving Seihdhara there on her own for a few seconds. But the flame-haired goddess was not for long still.

Wishing to descend from her point in the heavens, she tipped over forward very suddenly and fell in a red flurry. Dwynen held tightly onto her wild hair that streamed in her wake like a comet's tail. She ignored the numerous doors and windows leading in and out of Mater Lei's citadel, and instead passed right through the roof as though it was little more than mist. Dwynen screeched and closed her eyes, certain that she was about to come face to face with Césure, but she passed through the solid wall just as easily as the goddess and let out a small, squeaky sigh of relief.

Seihdhara hovered above Kap Gam's fungal Ley and bent over to examine it. She noticed, at the periphery of her mind, the one named Regulus create Griffins and a Sea Turtle which he sent forth to cleanse the world of Larwen's corruptions. She decided, then, in a distant sort of way, that everyone seemed rather set on warring with Larwen now and so perhaps she would not need to take up the primary responsibility of foiling the corruptor's various schemes and plouwaah!

WHO'S THAT? WHAT A SWEET LIL MORSEL!

Her attention was immediately on the newly-emerged Faliir, who had risen from the sand and immediately set to work creating horses. 'Oh look at him go Dwyni, isn't he just dreamy?' The faery only giggled and rolled her eyes while fussing over the goddess' hair in some futile attempt to tidy it. 'Awww!' Seihdhara frowned and pouted, 'Look, he just made a baby all on his own. Too tame!' And with that, she returned her attention to the fungal Ley and her crimson hair rippled and extended downwards in long tendrilous tresses. The hairs pierced the fungal growth and went deep into the spiritual marrow of the world.



Excited by the sensations that rippled through her, the goddess closed her eyes and kicked at the empty spaces beneath her floating bare feet and seemed to almost purr. She rose slightly, her hair aglow, and then rose some more, and in an instant she had shot away with a stream of crimson and ethereal golden mist in tow. She traversed the sky in swift steps, her hair spreading from horizon to horizon, and wherever she set foot and wherever she flew, she left in her trail the golden ethereal mist which slowly descended to the ground or made itself comfortable atop a cloud or allowed itself to be carried off on this wind or that wind.

And the goddess wheeled about at an impossible angle and dashed very suddenly downward, skimming the surface of the water before hurtling head-first into that first of all forests. 'Watch out!' she shrieked as she just about managed to avoid crashing a lovely father-son moment between Ipeyr and his boy. She disappeared into an exorbitantly large tree before her head emerged from the suddenly glowing and trembling thing, and she looked at Elizer. 'Now don't you listen to any of that tosh he's telling you laddie. You're your own god.' And she smiled a broad, hearty smile, flashing teeth, that seemed on the verge of erupting into a peal of laughter. But she did not laugh, instead emerging from the giant tree and disappearing into the sky - her crimson hair followed in tow, and a layer of golden mist remained behind and quickly permeated the ground and trees and rocks, the very air, the twigs on the grounds, even the fungal mushrooms that had developed.

Seihdhara rode the sky, her naked form twirling in the Galbarian stratosphere and her peals of laughter thundering across the heavens. At one point she came to a valley full of funny little insects that looked somewhat like the bees of her father's world, but which Seihdhara knew were not bees but squiggles; and the valley was home to trees not at all dissimilar to those present in the first forest. Intrigued, Seihdhara wandered the skies above the valley, spreading the ethereal golden mist until she spotted her sister Aella sitting alone atop a hut. 'Aella!' She waved excitedly at her sister and blew her a kiss, which took the form of a large shower of golden mist rushing into the armoured goddess of kindness' face, 'don't mope about here all on your own!' And, pausing to scoop Dwynen, who had just had the roller-coaster ride of her life, into her hands, the goddess twirled in mid-air and ran off into the blue once more, spreading Kap Gam's souls everywhere. The rocks would not simply be rocks, water springs would not simply be springs, trees not mere trees, mountains, the winds, the clouds; everything would have a soul and be filled with Kap Gam's mystical magicks and energies.

Eventually, once she had taken the souls to the highest peaks and the most unfathomable depths and left no place untouched by the sublime touch of life, the goddess had her hair disentangle itself from Kap Gam's fungal soul-maker. She landed she-knew-not-where to discover the ends of her hair had taken on a golden-green sheen due to being inside the fungus. 'THAT'S DISGUSTING!' She cried in horror, trying to scrub the taint from her trademark red hair, but to no avail. 'Maybe Kappy will know how to get it out,' the goddess said to Dwynen, who was flying around Seihdhara's head in a wonky circle, clearly dazed from the journey. In the faery's addled state, Seihdhara thought she caught her thinking something along the lines of next time, I'm driving. But that made little sense. 'Lil Grumkin's madness getting to you Dwynkilassi?' The goddess placed a kiss on the faery's little head, and she seemed immediately cured of her travelling sickness. 'Now come! Let's go find ol' Kippers and get her to get these horrible colo...' Seihdhara's voice faded away abruptly and she looked away from the faery.

They were not alone.

Lei returned to the site of the Door to greet whichever new deity had managed to create itself in her absence, yet soon enough found it empty. ...Perhaps nineteen is enough.

With a solemn gaze she raised the golden orb, and with a click of the lock, the Door ceased to be. The beach was only a beach. The horizon was nothing more. The day was bright.

Mater Lei turned and left that place. It was done.

...

...Well, clearly not, she thought, turning in the direction of the sound. A knock?

Lei clicked open the Door and stepped into the Vault. Ah, I see, she thought. A fatality. The figure floated in the well-lit dark of not space, limp. A mortal? No.

Lei reached out to the cadaver and pulled it into reality.

A failed attempt.

The demigod fell onto the wooden floor where the Record had been played, and lay there, unmoving. Lei looked into the Door and saw what happened. Bits, flying, everywhere, pieces of god and man put together with sutures and fallen apart in the void. Power, stripped, evaporating, a world's worth of divine essence leaking from the body, and leaving it as what it was- nothing more and nothing less.

Not a mortal. A young man who had presumed on his ability to be something more, and paid a just price.

Well, thought Lei, nudging the body's slender shoulders with her foot, Maybe 'man' is a bit of a stretch.

There was still some power hanging in the void. Lei leapt for it, gathered up its pieces, and saw that they fit together. With some effort she reassembled them, the last spark of the demigod's power, into a weapon of a sort she hadn't seen for a long time, and had not expected to see again. Despite all the chaos, its magic was still intact, held together against all odds by the will or hubris of the demigod. Perhaps that was his mistake.

With the demon rifle on her back, Mater Lei returned from the depths to where the body lay. Freed of the strain of maintaining a cobbled-together divinity, a little warmth was beginning to re-enter the corpse. She lifted her crook and poked at it like a dead thing.

_{"...Am I a god?"}

Lei flipped her cane and whacked him across the skull with it.

"Owwww!"

"No," she declared. "Absolutely not." The androgyne nursed his aching head.

"Mater Lei," she introduced, extending a hand.

"...Yuu." He took it and rose to his full height, which wasn't much. "I guess..." he looked around. "...I'll try again, then."

"No," she said. "This door is closed. You're the last one in. You may enjoy this new universe however you please."

Yuu looked down for some time. "Ah. ...Thank you." Then, up. "May I have my gun back?"

"No."

"...May I earn my gun back?"

"Maybe."

"..."

"..."

"...How?"

"Entertain me!" said Lei, sweeping her hands into the air with a grandiose shrug. "I'm sure you'll figure something out. In the meanwhile..." She shouldered the rifle and obliterated a nearby Plume. "...I'll take potshots." Lei looked back at him as though he hadn't been there before. "Is there anything else?"

"Can I see you naked?"

Lei shot another Plume, then turned to Yuu with a demon rifle in her arms and said, "I'm sorry, did you say something?"

Yuu leaned in. "I said, 'can I see you naked?'"

Lei looked at him.

"...You know, you had me all ready to be angry, but now I'm just impressed," she said with a slight huff. "No, you may not see me naked. However-" she extended another hand. "-you may remove my glove."

...

Well, thought Yuu, wading out of the Door a few seconds later with a shortbow on his back, slowly realising that he was in an entirely new universe. That was weird.

---

Onca danced across the sky's of Galbar with sharp precision and accurate grace, each stride filled with purposeful clarity. In a matter of days, she traversed it's entirety, finding only three land masses to speak of, and a number of smaller islands peppering the great expanse of blue water that stretched in every direction to the horizon.

Divine contaminates had spread quickly. Gobbling up territory like gluttonous pigs stewing their own feces. Onca mused.

She regarded one such territory belonging to the Preverter, who took for himself a mountain range and installed himself upon a spire of depravity. A prosaic throne belonging to a prosaic god. Onca hoped that amelioration would come to him soon.

Deeper within the peaks of Anathema Heights rested a quaint chalet of timber unfit for the likes of a divine, yet a beings' humility was certainly unmatched among all the gods.

Onca sought fit to establish the province of her father on soil yet marred by the voracity of the other deities. Southeast she traveled from the golden shores of the Beach of the Gods, quickly coming upon the lattermost landmass of Galbar, alone in a sea of cerulean.

She touched down on the eastern shore, kicking up sand as landed with feline grace. All but a flat expanse of dirt and patches of grass with a mountain range to the west greeted her. The land as of now was unfit for the Prime Solarus in her eyes, yet as mandated, she would make it so.

With a command of release, Onca relieved herself upon the thirsty soil of Galbar, quenching it with her bodily waste. From the beaches to the mountain tops she urinated, marking the territory of the Flayed Prince. Grass sprouted and blanketed the expanse in blades of yellow and green. Trees grew far and few between, allowing her father to shine upon all things and peoples. Rivers where etched into the land, further fertilizing the soil.

After three days and three nights of release, the flow finally abated, and Onca surveyed her handiwork. The land was beautiful, fit for life deserving of Axnas' blessing.



She christened the land: Aeinwaje and came to rest upon a mighty crag.

There was a silence in her domain, no sound to echo through her tunnels or even a breath. It was simply the goddess and her room of molten rock and energy. The Devourer was in a state close to sleep, undisturbed and satisfied with her current situation, albeit still quite hungry as she always was. It was calm, the heat from the magma felt good, especially as it was being absorbed by the goddess who simply wanted nothing more than this silence and warmth. Yet the matter of her hunger was still and issue, and it made her somewhat saddened though she didn’t know the feeling of sadness in its entirety as she simply didn’t understand.

With a sigh she got up and walked out of her room, pushing the door open by lightly pressing her hand against it. Kikoquatl transformed to her devouring form and simply began to burrow upwards, adding another tunnel to her cave system. She was quick about it as well, the rock proving to be of little resistance to her. It was a time consuming process though, going through rock and eating it to make these new tunnels, it could be easier if she put in more effort, but she did not feel like it. Now it was a matter of time before she grew tired again.

---

As his kindred set off to trace their own quarries, Azazael remained suspended in the sky for some time as he rested above the gaping maw of darkness. The cavernous opening gouged into the earth seemed to twist and turn upon itself; the Watcher suspected that the part he could see from outside was only a fraction of the chthonic depths. He descended closer and fell upon the chasm's rim as lightly as a leaf. A singular pebble nonetheless was scattered into the abyss, and though he saw it tumble down he did not hear it land upon the bottom.

But he did feel...something. There were the faintest of tremors, as if something something far below was thrashing with such fury that the earth itself heaved in pain. Never one to be afraid, he jumped into the gaping pit and let his wings slow the fall.

The darkness very quickly grew around Azazael, unlike him the being he was hunting for did not care for the darkness and was genuinely unaffected by it for she had made these tunnels. However, very suddenly, the tremors stopped. Perhaps the source of the disturbance had sensed his presence. He was still, hanging against the rocky side of the cavern for a long time as he contemplated what to do next. By now, the light from the surface above was but the faintest gleam above and he was nigh drowning in the dark. Moving on would be impossible, and he cared not to stumble blindly through the dark and right into the demon's clutches.

With a few quick beats of his wings, Azazael returned to the surface. But he was not defeated yet; he merely needed to think of a way to navigate the dark and labyrinthine tunnels. There were many gods and other beings around that could have been of assistance, though the Watcher knew not which to ask. There was the one called Seihdhara; she had seemed to take a liking to him, and then of course his master had not gone far either. But to walk dejectedly to Promus and beg him for assistance would be a shame too great to bear.

He cursed himself, for in his contemplation much time had passed and already it was growing close to dusk. But in the fading light, Azazael looked to the distant swamp created by the Carrion Lord, and to his amazement there were countless yellow lights. They moved about like tiny yellow stars, though these flickering lights were not nearly so far away as the heavens. He approached the lights and tried to find their source, but they danced away. With a swift rush through the air, he captured one in his hands. Even as he felt some sort of creature bouncing against the walls of his cupped hands, the light went dark. Moments later, the glow shone through the gaps between his fingers once again. It was a firefly.

Ah, so the light came from a living creature. That was good, he could make use of them then. He released the one that he had captured in his hands. "Come to me, little ones who light the night like stars," he bid the one that he had freed and all the others. Though mundane speech was just a meaningless vibration in the air to the insects, so powerful was the allure inherent in Azazael's voice that they understood and furthermore obeyed.

Surrounded by a small swarm of the fireflies, he entered the cave once more and descended into its depths with the glowflies as his light. As Azazael continued farther and farther down into the cave network, he found a labyrinth filled with many different twists and turns. At each intersection he was presented with two choices, left or right, occasionally up or down. Where he would make wrong turns, he found himself in a dead end or back to the same intersection, an endless loop of dead ends and twists. Or was he truly lost? The walls of the cave were uniform and it was impossible to tell where he was or if progress had actually been made.

Inevitably, Azazael had become the hunted, or rather the followed. It was not a massive beast that followed him nor was it a small worm. After one turn in a loop he would find himself face to face with the one who had been following him, Kikoquatl in her more humanoid form. She stood just outside the range of his light, her form just barely visible.

"You have been walking in a circle for a while now," she stated in a very neutral voice, staring at the feathered one.

The speaker's chitinous plates were wreathed in shadow thick enough to hide is body, but Azazael already knew the source of the voice. There was only one creature that it could have been, after all.

In that moment Hala might have fled and Makai would no doubt be in the midst of some apology, but the eldest brother was the bravest. "Though I bid the stone and the dark show me the way, they were silent. These tunnels try to muddle the way."

Kikoquatl cocked her head to the side. "What?"

"What would I find at their end?"

"Assuming you mean the tunnels, I guess it depends on the path you take. There are many different ways to go."

"Most end in nothing. But then what would the purpose of the tunnels be if they all did?"

"It is up to those who want to make something out of that nothing. Much like us gods have," Kikoquatl stated idly, before taking a step forward towards Azazael to reveal more over her form. A bright light appeared in the tunnel behind her a grew brighter as it drew closer. The ball of energy stopped between the two, emanating a light that made the tunnel appear as if the sun itself were lighting the room. "You are a strange speaker."

The fireflies about Azazael shied from the overpowering light and found their ways into what few shadows and dark recesses remained in the walls. But the Watcher, far from distraught at their disappearance, seemed amused. "I think that all other speakers must be strange, for my maker is Lord of Speech." In the span of the next moment he realized that he had betrayed his identity as well as that of Promus. But perhaps there had never been any such secret to speak of; after all, he had been created in the light of the dawn before any god that had thought to look up. He had seen Kikoquatl in those first moments, so she may have seen him too.

"The Lord of Speech? Who is that? I was the third god to be born into this world so I know must others. So who made you, little morsel?" the devourer asked moving closer to strange one. She stopped herself, taking a step back and bowing her head. "I am sorry, I do not mean to pry. That would be rude," Kikoquatl apologized, keeping herself firmly planted where she was, attempting to not be rude.

"But one of such beauty could never offend," the words immediately poured out with neither forethought nor worry of Promus' admonition.

Kikoquatl's mandibles opened up out of shock, making one noise in the process, "Ehh?

He took a silent step closer and lowered the prideful wings that shielded his face.

The goddess stood still, unknowing of what to do in the situation, before asking "Who are you?" Her eyes scanned Azazael, she found nothing extraordinary about him other than his bright red hair and speech pattern, but she could do very little about her confusion of what the being was doing. She had no concept of love to run off of, thus not knowing the seduction tactics the angel was employing, never having really experienced many emotions other than hunger and the small amount of happiness she felt by being nice to Seihdhara. The two antennae that curled behind her head perked up for a moment before falling back into place, Kikoquatl wondering just what to do about this thing that had entered her cave.

"Azazael," he answered. "Blessed of Seihdhara, son and servant of Promus."

"Son of Promus? What business do you have in my caves?"

"You," he answered with truth purer than the clearest water. "I came to find you. Why do you retreat into the depths and hide such elegance from the world?"

Another step closer, and the makings of a smile. "What is the wonder of the stars when compared to your majesty, Lady Kikoquatl?"

"Wha-" was the only response the goddess could give, if she had the ability to blush she would, as she realized what these words from the angel meant. She quickly brought herself back down from her thoughts, before answering him in a subtle, more flustered tone, "I came down here because there was too many things happening up there. Everything was happening so fast and I was not needed." However, she did not answer the second question, simply unknowing of how to respond.

"What works down here could be of greater import than witnessing the creation of the world?"

"A home," she answered simply. "Would you like to see?"

Without trepidation, Azazael answered, "I would be honored."

Kikoquatl walked forward to the angel and raised one of her hands around his great wings to lay it upon his shoulder, within the blink of an eye they were both in the center of her home. The magma providing the warm color while the light from the ball of energy situated itself in the ceiling once more, however, it was less harsh. The jack-o-lantern stared at the two, seemingly smiling evil with the plot forming in the strange head that it had. "Welcome to my home, made it all myself without magic. Except for the magma, you can thank that for doing it," she stated pointing her finger at the ball of energy. It was a cozy little place, though still large considering it could hold her in her larger form, though it did lack furniture and other things that would make it seem less empty.

It was impressive. He regarded the vacuous expanse and allowed his features to indicate a modest yet flattering level of astonishment. He had not known what to expect at the bottom of such a formidable expanse of black tunnels (hewed by what Promus had unflattering called a 'demon,' no less) but it hadn't been...this.

For once he was at a loss for words; yet it was only for a moment.

"I have two brothers. Promus has decreed that we are to civilize what mortals may rise, to teach them how to build homes."

His eyes found their way to the farthest corners and took in the sheer scale of the room. "But you have created the first home. I doubt that any palace or redoubt will rival this for aeons to come, even if we were to offer divine aid to its builders."

He might have been rambling, but it didn't matter what Azazael said, so long as he kept speaking. He had already found that their were few forces so seductive or powerful as a voice whose user knew its power and wielded it well.

"I thank you," Kikoquatl said, her neutral tone coming back to her. She looked around at her handiwork once more, "It took a good amount of work."

"But what will you do now? You have a sanctuary, a realm august and venerable. But surely you must long for more than this? Surely you will grow lonely if you are to stay dormant in your hermetic home?"

"I- I don't know," She said, thinking to herself for a few moments before she looked around. Her body weight shifted onto one side, her focus moving from pillar to pillar. Then her hunger began to plague her once more, it was extremely bothersome and she disliked the feeling. "Perhaps I shall hold a feast, invite the gods and sport good relations amongst one another," Kikoquatl said, looking back at Azazael.

"It would be a gala of legend," a soothing voice agreed. "But I think it best that I leave soon; erelong I will be missed."

"That is a shame," Kikoquatle commented letting out something akin to a sigh before continuing on, "Be sure to visit, just make all lefts to get back here if you wish to see me again. I would not mind having the taste of a morsel." The phrase was all that Kikoquatl could do with flirtation, then she grabbed onto Azazael and teleported to the cave's entrance and then back to her home, only to question her actions at the end.

He left Kikoquatl with a parting smile, then paid heed to his surroundings. It was already morning, and there was no sign of his two brothers. They were probably making fools of themselves on their own tasks; if either of them had been in that tunnel in his stead, he had the sinking feeling that they might have been devoured.

With triumph, Azazael returned to the air and sought out Promus.

Orfai turned his attention towards 'Him' and they nodded to each other. Wordlessly, Orfai swept out from the beach again and disappeared into the waters of the ocean, flowing across the world back towards Mater Lei's structure. 'He' watched the Nerai break from the grasp of Rytia to join it's kindred, then watched Rytia swoop through the air and towards the centre of the islands. 'He' swam down through the waters, bringing the oddity with him, to examine the tunnels and caves that the goddess carved.

The Faliargun would definitely be able to settle here and expand, Rytia was a good and careful architect. She had avoided compromising her own design but had all the same produced large caverns and tunnels for them, that crept around beneath the corals and through the rocks of the island as an expansive network.

"Excellent, I am most grateful." 'He' said when they were finished. Then 'He' paused for a moment before holding up the vault oddity to show her it again. The crab still hung around within it, clearly very shocked at having been relocated halfway across the ocean. "There is the question of where we put this..."

***

Orfai flowed up to the Faliargun and looked upon them, judging them each in turn. The Faliargun approached him cautiously, and he reached out his arms to them.

"Do not be afraid," Orfai said, and the Faliargun tilting their heads to regard him "For I have seen the affliction of my creations at the hand of those of the Corrupter. I know their sorrows; And I am come to deliver them out of the jaws of the Goldari and the Halls of the Mater, and to bring them up unto the waves and across the seas, unto waters flowing with pearls and coral, unto the place of the Nerai."

Orfai flowed closer to the Faliargun and reached out to touch one of them. There was a slight glow as he placed the location directly into their minds, that they might know the way to go. And once more Orfai became aware of the acute need they had for communication, and the lack of capability they had for this.

And yet Orfai could not give them speech, for as much as he thought about how this might be done and as much as he desired to do it, he could find no way for such to happen. Indeed, it seemed there was no way for himself to do so, that such knowledge was a secret even to him and lay within the domain of another.

Yet- he paused and he thought to himself for a moment. There were other ways to communicate- Rytia's Nerai had shown a more visual form of expression, making it easy to tell how they were feeling even without words. Yet he wanted something more comprehensive than that. No, there were other ways, and perhaps more efficient ways besides. For in truth, the more he thought on it, the more he realised that fully fledged audio communication within the water would be- inefficient to say the least.

So the Keeper of Secrets imparted to them a great gift; with a wave of his hand and the shadowy trails of his divinity once again flowing around them, he granted them a magic innate to their being; that they might from birth communicate mentally with each other; their bodies changed slightly as his divinity flowed through them, altering the fabric of their being. The section of the frontal lobe usually responsible for speech was now the source of telepathy, a telepathic organelle if one would. In short, his Faliargun would become a species of telepaths or empaths, capable of communicating with each other without the need for audio or visual stimulus. It was over short distances, true, but then what forms of communication were not hampered by distance, especially within the water where audio would suffer, and where in the deepest depths of its darkness the visual might no longer serve effectively either?

But they would need to communicate with more of the world than just each other, for they were to share this world with other creations and the gods themselves. Thus, the Keeper ensured that their newfound telepathy would allow them to send telepathic messages to any living things that had a mind, thus allowing them an avenue of communication with the other mortal races. It would be crucial for them to be able to communicate ideas to the Nerai and to the other races of the world, even if the way those beings communicated back would be very different indeed.

But he was acutely aware of how this might affect his fondness for secrets and mysteries, and so made sure that sending telepathic messages was voluntary. The Faliargun could pass memories and thoughts to each other, communicate concepts with but a glance- yet they could not read each others thoughts or minds without invitation, only those ideas that they wanted to flow to the other would flow. Such pruning of awkwardness went on for a while, as the Keeper carved out this ability with the utmost care.

And after several hours, the Keeper looked upon the result and was satisfied. Already he could hear the buzz of communication between his Faliargun, as they 'spoke' to each other- and to him. They would speak the purest language of knowledge that could exist; there would be no degradation of oral tales, no miscommunications or misunderstandings from imperfect speech. The Keeper applauded his own ingenuity and cunning.

"Does this please you, Faliargun?" Orfai smirked as he 'spoke' within their minds... The thoughts flowed back to him, in the affirmative. They did not yet have any language with which to call their concepts, but their thoughts let him know their feelings- and oh how they felt so giddy now! How they better understood each other! They were still so primitive and their minds so lacking in knowledge, they had not even a proto-civilisation nor so much as a tribe. They were merely a- a school of Faliargun, as though they were the bestial fish that they were made from. Yet this ability to commune would greatly improve their coordination and thus their chances of both surviving in the world and making their way to the islands which would be their new home. In time, perhaps, they would become something more.

"These are surely the first of many bestowments, should you impress myself and the gods. And yet for now, this is my last gift to you. You, My Faliargun, shall make your way to the islands of the Nerai, whose location I have imparted unto you. There we shall commune again."