Chopstick Eyes did her very best to wade through the deeper parts of the throne room lake, swishing her arms through the water in search and trying her very best to blot out the sounds of burning, yelling and slithering as she did so. It was a bold attempt, for her part, and perhaps the only movement she'd managed so far that had not involved scuttling in fright. She dipped her head below the water to listen for the creaking of the wood inside her skull, hoping to echolocate something smooth, broad and metal.

When she came up, she... Did not come up. Kicking up and backwards with a jerk of panic, Chopstick found that either she had drifted away much deeper than she had intended, or the water was rapidly rising. Breaching the surface with a shake of the head and treading water, she realised that the water had indeed risen, but caught in the lowermost reaches of yet another goddess of the titanic variety, that seemed to be the least of her troubles.

"Th-th... Thank you!" she spluttered, paddling within reach of the trusty meat-partitioner, a little humiliated but having no obvious means of recourse while splashing around like a dog in the watery base of an elemental lord. But she meant it. "Thank you, Ashalla."

Chopstick bowed as soon as her legs could reach the bottom. As her skewers touched the surface of the water, she saw the ripples below her face grow suddenly much darker all over, caught as it was- as she damn well knew it was, divine sense or no- in the shadow of yet another colossus. A second later, she could smell him.

Still facing the water, Chopstick clenched her teeth in the fakest smile and went hgrrrnnnrrnnnnnrnnnn, and only then permitted herself to sigh.

Standing up to face Narzhak armed with nothing but an oversized vegetable sectioner, Chopstick rested her cleaver on her shoulder, uncrossed her other two arms, stared him dead in the visor and raised her tiny knuckles as if to promise swift and unrepentant fisticuffs.

---

---

---

---

Yet while Sartr awaited a response from the Architect himself, he suddenly heard the equally fiery voice of Seihdhara call to him from nearby.

"That's my boyo! You tell that dumb old thing, Danglydong!"

He paused for a second before slowly turning towards the goddess with a face of confused disgruntlement.

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING DANGLYDONG?" he rudely asked, having the joke float right above his head like an oblivious child.

Then Arae hopped into the conversation.

"Sartravius, please, that's no way to act. You shouldn't have flames engulf the world."

Sartr turned towards the family god and snarled as his temper began to already reach critical mass.

""I WILL DO AS I PLEASE!" the flaming god roared repulsively, ""YOU ARE NO MOTHERLY FIGURE OF MINE!"

And before the fire god could do anything else, his answer would come in the form of another goddess. When he turned to face her however, he would be greeted to a sight that he found utterly repulsive - the liquid form of the Water Goddess herself, Ashalla.

"Can't you see? We have been brought here to create! Look at that Sphere over there. I feel it is much greater than this place here. There we can exercise our might!"

Sartr could feel her echoing voice breeze by his face, however it wasn't a pleasant one to him. Even the tiniest molecules that touched his face stung as they extinguished tiny flames within his thick beard. It wasn't nearly harmful enough to cause any damage, but he could feel his body react negatively to it, only producing broader more intense flames as a natural response. Water. His one true nemesis. The faint traces that his mind can remember back in the eternal days within the void's womb, how much he despised liquid water. His flames would be douched every time they touched the liquid substance, turning only into hot vapor and steam. It nearly killed him on several occasions, although they were all accidental and random. The flaming god wishes to evaporate the positivity off her damp face, yet can't. And this made him even more aggrieved.

But what she said about the spheres sporting a place where they can train and properly utilize their powers was more than appealing to him. He'll create a realm that will suit to his every needs. He began to think about the possibilities on what he'll make, sporting a fiery grin while he did so. That was until Arae interrupted him one last time.

""See, follow Ashalla's example, and create something good for the world, rather than letting fire run free."

Sartr said nothing more other than a rude scoff before turning towards the closest crystal to him. It was high time for him to leave and carve his own destiny with roaring passion.

When the Red Haired god called Seidhara was punished by the Architect, This One scuttled off, to watch what others were doing. These others were all riding crystals out of this intriguing place to their own yet to be intriguing places. It knew it would have plenty of time to be in this space it was being sent to, and only so long here, in the presence of the Architect. Eurysthenes had heard all the questions and answers so far, and was still unsatisfied as to what this truly was.

This One had stayed motionless in the hall longer than it should've, and though it wished to remain, every second saw its will becoming shrunk by the Architect's weighty command. The lone god was being denied audience without having any attention payed to it. All others had left, and Eurysthenes was frantically resisting the pull of the dreaded crystal. It knew that the precious moments it had mustn't be squandered with pathetic flailing. The last seconds were elasticated; drawn out. The tiny pieces within This One's body that allowed the clicking speech cracked to their purpose, hammering out one last question: "Why won't you answer our questions in a satisfying manner?"

And with this, it was overcome by the crystal and whisked out of the hall, the Architect's answer echoing after it.

The journey was neither long nor short, but it was rejuvenating. Arrival to this... sphere of existence saw the crystal crumble, dropping Eurysthenes. It swore to never travel by crystal again as it gathered itself.
The sphere was bare. Nothing was in sight, and there was no way to orient oneself. This One knew not how large the sphere was, only that it could not sense the edges, despite being specially attuned to this area. So to gain some sense of direction, This One created the ground and sky: the ground a rolling infinity of cut stones, and the sky an unfathomably large expanse of deep blue eyes. But still, all that could be felt was the crushing expanse of nothing. This was nothing compared to what Eurysthenes had faced just before, by the Architect's hand. This One sat, reaching right to the essence of the sphere. Down and down, left, up, left, left, right, down...
All around Eurysthenes erupted walls of colossal height in winding patters, spilling out from where it was sitting like an ink blot. Every inch the Maze grew allowed it to feel more of the sphere, right out to the edges, pockmarked with gateways to... other places. At the spot where Eurysthenes sat was the eye of the maze. Grand arches mark the entrance, facing a staircase ascending to the peak. Upon the peak rests two chairs, and a large, round table with many spaces, and many pieces.

Within the walls of the Maze itself lay thousands upon thousands of smaller puzzles, populating the otherwise empty Maze.

"Would you be lost, would you find others, you would Lose others," it said, and so it was that those lost in the maze would wander forever so that they may hinder others' journeys.

And the last thing the Maze needed was a way out, and so Eurysthenes sank their fingers into the ground and reached to the essence of the world they were meant to form. Across the impossible distance stretched tendril like fingers, grasping and searching. The need to reach Galbar was insatiable. When This One finally reached Galbar, it pulled its fingers out of the ground, far back at the Maze, and out of the ground sprouted a magnificent archway at the Center of the Maze. Just beyond lay stairs.

Feeling like it did its job here, it descended into Galbar to see what it may.

Azura’s rescue attempt was only momentarily successful before she too became a victim of the turbulent birthing of gods as a auburn haired firebrand fell from the heavens like a meteorite to impact right next to the bird. The ground cracked asunder at her coming, startling and destabilizing Azura causing her to topple over with a squawk, losing chopstick eyes in the process. Landing gracelessly on her side she was left stund there for a moment, staring wittlessly at the ceiling, before rolling over away from chopsticks and Seihdhara, talons briefly raised in the air as a result, to right herself a little way away from the danger, having completed a barrel roll in the process.

Her head snapped round to look at who had hurt her and how chopstick eyes was doing, only to see the former helping the latter up who subsequently ended up cussing up a storm. Any anger of resentment was quickly relinquished as Azura quickly found the humor in the situation, letting out a short laugh as a result, for despite her prodigious size she had fallen foul to the same fate she had attempted to save chopstick eyes from.

Sadly the fun did not last long as Seihdhara decided to hurl stones and insults at the architect, which ended poorly, to say the least. The subsequent horrific act by their eldritch lord greatly disturbed Azura. The imprisonment may have only lasted a scant few moments but it left a lasting impression on Azura even as its intended target brushed it off like it was nothing. While Azura was reminded what fear felt like the titan of fire had no such reservations, and more or less picked up where Seihdhara had left off. He however was given answers by the water given life, who encouraged her fellows to leave this place and begin their assigned task.

Azura was inclined to agree with her. She could do with some air, the room and its increasing number of residents where making her feel increasingly claustrophobic. She also needed space to contemplate the situation she had been reborn into: the architect had shown themselves to be a cruel, powerful and aloof master and that made them a problem, one who’s solution she needed time to derive.

”I’m out of here. See you all on Galbar.”

She told those that remained before she followed the lead of some of the others, launching herself the small distance between the ground and the nearest crystal, claws gripping her new perch as she urged it to take her away from this place. Obey it did, rushing to free her from the architects palace and sending her hurtling towards one of the spheres that drifted just above galbar. Azura could not help but enjoy the ride, and by the time the crystal plunged into the sphere itself her mood had improved significantly. Her mount eventual came to a halt in the featureless dark void and Azura was left atop it to contemplating the possibilities, right up until the point that her perch ran out of power and dropped like a stone. She gave a shriek of surprise as it began to drag her after it, letting go quickly after she released what was going on.

”Hay. No! don’t do that.” She ordered it while flapping wildly to halt her decent. At her command stone structures burst from the crystal, rapidly melding together as they grew into a massive temple that defied gravity atop which the parrot landed. A perch fit for a goddess. With space and time to think acquired she put her noggin to work on what to do with this place She’d be calling home.

---

one sphere renovating montage later

The black void had been painted Blue and a flat prevailing light suffused the entire place. The sphere had grown as the goddess had flown to its edges and them thrown herself against them, dragging and stretching it till it had no end and instead wrapped entirely around Galbar. This space was now littered with floating temples that she had used to pause and rest, the later ones had various mechanism to have them move on their own while she rested and now drifted onwards on their course even after she had stopped using them. Below Galbar was painted on the lower edge of the sphere, flat like a map and hazly like a mirage it was nonetheless the world Architect had created, contorted such that she could see every part of it. She had examined every inch of it from above by this point and it was, in a word, lacking. A lifeless ocean speckled with dull stone islands. It was dark and, even though she could see regardless thanks to her godhood, that was still a rather sad state of affairs. One that the gods would need to rectify.

Azura launched herself from her final perch, wrapping the light she had infused the Sphere with around her as she plunges to Galbar. She punches through the bottom of the sphere, causing ripples to ebb out across the mirage, and emerges into the skies of Galbar that is finally blessed by light from her now softly self illuminating feathers. A smudge of blue exploded across the sky from her entry point, briefly revealing the Blue and its temples to any below, which then shrunk as Azura descends towards one of the few islands found in the endless sea. Light had come to Galbar, or at least to a very small patch of it, and the arrival of the Wind goddess also stirred the stagnant air of the planet as wind from both her wings and the temples above began to force motion and life into the dead atmosphere. She after performing a lazy looping decent looking for a landing site until she eventually selected on a small craggy hilltop overlooking the rest of the island and the vast sea. Vast talons griped this stone outcrop, bringing her to a stop. Folding her wings to rest comfortable at her side the goddess took everything in with her no binocular vision.

”Hmmm. How to begin.”

Between the elation of movement and the one he sought being but a crumb of flesh near him, it was a marvel Narzhak ground to a halt in time to avoid condemning Chopstick to the same fate as their ruinous brother, albeit one facilitated in no small part by Ashalla's significantly more visible form close by acting as a warning. The fire in his lower right eye narrowed to a monolithic ember as he sharpened his sight to discern what his quarry was doing. It then almost immediately blazed up with a roar as he saw the minuscule goddess defiantly hold up her fists at him. The giant's entire vast body began to quake, sending shudders through the soil at his feet, before he cast back his head and flooded the chamber with a new access of growling cachinnations. To think that this little wretch would stand against him! Him, the mightiest of those that heeded the Architect's summons! The mightiest warrior - warrior? Yes, that sounded right.

As this new reflection on his nature made the cackling subside, Narzhak felt an odd sense of respect for the skewer-eyed challenger stir in his cavernous entrails. For all the absurdity of her threat, she did not recoil even before one as great as him, and that was well worth something. He held up a hand to stop, more than anything else, the last cackles welling up from his throat and tried to remember why he had come hither to begin with. "Hrrah, hah, ah... Are you looking for..." Only then did he notice that Chopstick was, in fact, not looking for anything at all. Maybe a scuffle, but he found himself disinclined to stamp out a perfectly functional fighting spirit that could be saved for someone else. His question tapered to a disappointed grunt.

Nevertheless, he would not delay his duties in the world for nothing. The Iron God brought up two fingers to one of the jutting ridges in his armour and carefully snapped a scrap from its edge. With imperceptible motions, he rapidly set to work shaping it. A task of such precision would have seemed impossible for the likes of him - the fragment was like a grain of dust between the walls of palaces - yet, somehow, it seemed to him as though nothing could have been simpler. In mere moments, the formless chip of metal was moulded into a tolerable approximation of a cleaver, albeit one that strongly resembled a scimitar and was likely better suited for mutilation than any form of cookery.

Balancing his creation on the tip of a claw, Narzhak lowered it towards the ground, slowly, but not cautiously enough to prevent it from sliding down and whistling to the ground dangerously close to Chopstick's feet. "A spare one. If you ever need to cut the whole hand." He rumbled again at the memory of the fiendish tendril trailing away from the rest of the monstrous body. "Far from the sea, perhaps. Blood is that much sweeter if you spill it yourself" he added, turning his head to face Ashalla. Although he had never tasted any sort of blood himself, the fact seemed self-evident, and he would have been remiss to leave the only one of their number who had spoken reason without a word of sound advice for the ages to come.

The titan drew himself up to his full height. "Haste now, there's work to be done. Seek me in the depths if you ever have need." With this curt farewell, he trudged forward, propelling his bulk over Chopstick's head in a single step. The expectant crystals were not far away; it did not take him long to find the only one large enough to support him, and he clambered onto it without a moment's hesitation. As he was borne upwards, first slowly, then steadily faster and faster, Narzhak raised a hand in a final salute to the Architect, which promptly transitioned into imperiously signalling for the gleaming platform to move faster. For a moment, his shadow covered the sight of Galbar overhead; then, he was gone.

---

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---

The starry one shook with intensity, beginning to pulse at a speed only a God would be able to comprehend in scope and magnitude. The smoky wisp about his frame began to coalesce, wrapping itself tighter to the young god’s body, until there only remained his dark figure upon the stone. The small pinpricks of light that were etched into his form began to glow outward. In such a horrific moment for Orvus, any who looked upon him then would be reminded of a night sky. Dazzling to see, but full of unknowable danger.

Slowly Orvus dropped his hands from his face, and at last he opened his eyes. The God looked down upon his trembling hands and frowned. He found the sight sickening, to say the least. Being unable to control his own body was not something he had ever anticipated, but whatever could he anticipate now? It was a weakness, and he felt ashamed. Unable to bare the sight any longer, Orvus plunged his hands into the thick stone before him.

There was a sickening crack as the rock exploded outward from the force of the blow. Dust and debris rained down for briefest of moments and when it cleared, his hands were buried in the rubble. Yet the trembling did not stop as he had hoped. Instead, the floor began to break apart further from where he knelt. Stone cracked, and long jagged lines raced outward from the two points of origin, going in every direction. Any who would look upon such an image would find it twisted, like a broken spider’s web.

His eyes went wide at first, then they returned to a scowl. He wanted to scream, but couldn’t, for he had not found his voice. He looked up at the Architect, focusing his rage and anger on him. For it was he who made him feel this way. It was he who made him shake, who made him look weak. He readied himself to die, for surely the God of God’s would smite him down in an instant, but Orvus would give him something to remember him by. This he would make sure.

Before he could do any of that, something blocked out what little light there was in that room. Something directly over him. Orvus looked straight up, just in time to see a massive foot descending upon him. He had no time to prepare, no time to evade.
So, he was crushed.

Like the weight of a mountain dropping a top his nimble frame, there was nothing he could do as his body plummeted through earth and stone. The blow had been tremendous, and so easily avoided if he hadn’t been so preoccupied with other things. It was that simple fact, which finally sent Orvus over the edge.

From his body erupted his power of Desolation, and as he fell, rock and stone turned to naught but dust all around him. He passed close to the core of the moon. Where the weight, heat and pressure did little to stop his downward spiral and on he continued, unabated. Orvus eventually erupted from the other side of the moon, leaving a sizable crater as he rocketed into space from the momentum. It was then his rage fizzled out, leaving him to feel empty as he drifted without control.

It was then he saw it, a blue orb on the far horizon. He knew its name almost instantly. Galbar. It meant little to him in that moment, being so far away. He rotated himself to look back up at the Architects moon, and there Orvus saw crystals taking flight. Some raced passed him, others took off in different directions. His own crystal had been waiting for him. Now it would wait in time memorial for a God who would never use it. Abandoned. Just like him, in a way.

His gaze wandered past the moon, past his shame and for the first time, he looked upon the barrier. Protected by seals, and wards, holding back an endless abyss. And as Orvus floated, certain thoughts came to mind. If he had came through the barrier, then could he not go back through it? What would await him? Silence? The comfort of dark? Peace? He stretched out a hand towards it, the gesture ultimately futile but Orvus cared not for the simplicity of it. For he knew, one day, he would find out. Even if it took him eons, he would see what lied beyond.

He sighed, and a word escaped him. It was soft, and smooth as it was empty. Just one word. One that would carry his ambition forevermore.

_{”Beautiful…”}

He had found his voice.

---

Aelius studied his companion up and down. Her form was radiant, perhaps blinding, had he not been a god. Her eyes were warm and kindly, and as he looked into their light, he felt peaceful and at ease. Whatever understanding the Architect had imparted on him told him that this goddess - Asceal - had a vision for Galbar that aligned with his own.

“Asceal?” he said, testing her name. He spoke slowly, still adjusting to his new form.

“Yes,” She returned the smile he’d worn during his approach, “And you are Aelius, are you not? I confess the transition to this world from the place in-between has left me disoriented. It is jarring to know you, to feel that in you I have a friend, without ever having met you before.”

“It does make breaking the ice easier,” Aelius said sheepishly. “The Architect would rather have us off to work and out of his hair than throw a meet-and-greet in his hall.” The young god took a moment to look around. Already the others were making a scene at the Architect's feet. “I’m glad I’m not the only one with a sense of decorum,” he added.

At the prompting Asceal spared a glance towards the commotion taking place just in time to see a red haired Goddess be thrown to the ground and humbled by the Architect. She grimaced, but averted her eyes. The Architect had crafted the universe, invited them all here, and while she wished he had the forbearance to refrain from such harsh admonishments she couldn’t deny Seihdhara, for that was the red haired Goddess’s name, had deserved some measure of punishment.

“As you say,” she returned her attention to Aelius, “I’m certain the others will learn, though. We have only just crossed the threshold after all, and it was not an easy passage. ”

Aelius nodded. “You know - when the Architect summoned us, I was scared. Before he made me into this,” he pointed at his new body, “I felt alone and hopeless in that void.” He chuckled humorlessly. “I imagine all those souls down there on Galbar feel that way now. It would mean a lot to me to relieve them of that despair.” Aelius raised a hand to indicate Asceal’s physique. “Why, your light just might be the first step.”

“Oh? It seems we’re of a mind then,” Asceal shifted her gaze from Aelius to the rift the Architect had torn in the ceiling of his palace, at the weak and ephemeral glimmers that shone from the distant barrier, “Moments ago, eons past, I saw this world, a space intricate beyond description, the new home of so very many, and I knew it lacked the one thing which was in my power to provide. Tell me of your desire Aelius, for I feel it is also mine.”

“I want to give those souls hope, direction, a purpose to live for. Who knows why the Architect did what he did, but it’s clear to me that the rest falls on our shoulders. We can’t let the void swallow them up.” Aelius looked out to Galbar, that blue sphere loitering in blackness. “I think our first priority is to give them light in that darkness. To show them they aren’t alone out there. That’s how we’ll start giving their lives meaning.”

Asceal smiled, and her form shined brighter, “Light, meaning, hope. They will have all that and more if we work to deliver it to them, Aelius. The blue pearl they languish on could be their home, a home on which they need never again know the despair shadow brings. They have spent too long in the darkness, it is on us to ensure they never suffer it again.”

“If you create light,” Phystene sauntered over to the pair, “I’ll create the first bodies for these lost souls to inhabit.” She gave the pair a warm smile. “And pardon my interruption. You two just gave off such a warm… aura that I couldn’t help but be drawn to you.”

Asceal regarded the newcomer, a woman who resembled Aelius and Asceal in form but whose green skin and eyes, not to mention thin antlers of wood, set her apart. She greeted Phystene, Goddess of Plants, with a friendly nod, “You need not apologize Phystene, you are always welcome in our company. To hear you offer such support only makes that welcome warmer. With your help we can offer all those lost souls on Galbar some measure of what we have received from the architect, just as our friend Aelius desires. You have my gratitude.”

Aelius nodded, making space for Phystene in their corner of the room. “Anyone who wishes to enrich the lives of Galbar's people is a friend to us.” In the antlered goddess he sensed a passion for life and happiness, and it made his heart swell. In just minutes after their ascension to godhood, they were already forming bonds and planning marvels for Galbar and its people. Aelius’s head was buzzing with visions of an ideal planet, a bastion of prosperity. “Leave the light to us,” he told Phystene, “and your creations will bask in it!”

“Yes” Phystene agreed. “I can see it now. A world covered in green. Of teeming life and endless possibilities.” She gazed at her two new companions for a moment before adding “If there is anything you need, anything I can do to help, simply ask and I will do what I can.”

Kalmar approached the trio, and took the time to examine them. He immediately felt some sort of understanding: the green one represented plants. Plants were essential - without them, there would be no prey, and the predators would die. The bright one represented light, which was also essential, as a hunter needed to see. The third one represented.... Virtue? What a foreign concept. Kalmar could not see much use for it.

“Hello.” He said, by way of greeting. “I am Kalmar.” He stopped there, clearly expecting some sort of response.

“The Hunter,” Aelius affirmed. “A pleasure. Your cause will feed the multitudes of Galbar. A noble contribution.”

Kalmar nodded, feeling pleased to have his usefulness recognized. “Yes. And you are… virtue? I am not familiar with this concept. Can you explain?”

Aelius cleared his throat and beamed as he prepared to enlighten the others. “Well, those souls down there on Galbar, they're absolutely lost. Much like ourselves before the Architect called on us. He gave us a purpose.” The young god pointed to the planet in the distance for emphasis. “I want to be to them as the Architect is to us. A tutor, a caretaker, a leader. I want to give them purpose. Virtue is the extension of my will. Wisdom, temperance, fortitude and justice - these are the keys which will give them meaningful existence.”

“I could go on,” he added, “but perhaps a longer explanation would be best suited to a leisurely afternoon at my sphere. Over a fine jug of wine, perhaps - in moderation.” He gave Kalmar a wink as he said the last words.

Phystene glanced at Kalmar and gave him a small shrug. On a basic level she knew that this concept of virtue was a good thing, but it was so foreign a concept to her that she couldn’t truly comprehend it. Yet. “Perhaps your presence here” She turned towards Aelius, “will spare this world the fate of my home.”

“Hm?” Kalmar had more or less zoned out during Aelius’s long-winded ramble, yet suddenly another one of the gods was speaking. It was not like him to lose focus like this. If this Aelius could so easily have that effect on people, he could prove a dangerous foe. Having lost track of what was being discussed, and recalling the awkwardness of his previous conversation, he decided he would let someone else speak next.

“Yours is a noble calling, Aelius,” Asceal rested a hand on Aelius’s shoulder and spoke before it became too clear Kalmar hadn’t been paying attention, “As Phystene says, I’m certain your presence will bring about a better world for all those souls unfortunate enough to lack the gifts the Architect has bestowed on us.”

She paused and glanced at the gods already departing the Architects palace, “I feel we have tarried long enough though. There is much work to be done, many suffer in the darkness, and as Aelius has said there will be ample enough time to speak later. If you would grant us leave, Phystene, Kalmar.”

“Agreed,” Aelius said. “Off to work! I look forward to seeing your creations in action.” He gently took Phystene’s hand, bowed and touched it to his lips, then made to shake Kalmar’s hand.

Kalmar looked at Aelius’s extended hand with some degree of confusion, unsure of how to respond, so he did nothing. He looked at Asceal, and nodded. “You are not being kept here, and you do not need our leave, so you should both go if you wish.”

“Ah,” Asceal cocked her head in an expression of mild puzzlement before finishing, “Farewell then, friends.”

Aelius shrugged as his hand fell back to his side. The gods exchanged their goodbyes and he turned to Asceal. “Now then,” he said, “I’ve got a grand idea. I’ll tell you all about it on the way.” He took Asceal’s hand and led her to his waiting star.

---

As the two deities departed, Kalmar turned to regard Phystene. “You represent plants,” he said curtly, more of a statement than a question. “I think we should work together.”

Phystene raised an eyebrow, the movement seeming mechanical as if she wasn’t used to it, which was the case seeing as she had only just recently acquired a body. “Naturally.” The corner of her mouth tugged up towards a smile. “Us nature deities need to stick together. I believe, once the matter of light has been dealt with, that we’ll need to create some land masses. Of course we can create life in the oceans, but… it’s always a good idea to have some diversity. No?”

Kalmar nodded, and found himself offering a slight smile. “It is,” he agreed. He paused for a few moments, and then spoke again. “There is also the matter of maintaining the natural order. The species we create must co-exist without completely destroying each other.”

“Yes” Phystene visibly winced. “My… original home was in the process of being destroyed by the greed of a dominant species when I was.... Summoned here.” She let out a long sigh. “It is truly a pity. At one time they were one with nature. Now… now their greed leads them to destroy that which makes their world livable. We will have to ensure that such greed doesn’t go unpunished here.”

Kalmar nodded with some sympathy. “I have some idea of what that is like. In my original home, there was a species we preyed on for food. A new species moved in, and they proceeded to hunt that species to extinction, forcing us both to move on to a new area in search of new prey. I have even less experience with creation than I do with conversing, but I will learn, and I will do what I can to prevent anything like that from happening again.”

“We all have much to learn.” Phystene agreed. “It is odd being… cognizant.” She gave a slight sake of her head. “But tell me: what do you think of our fellow deities?”

Kalmar shrugged. “I spoke with the rain goddess. She will be vital to our new world, but her survival instinct seems lacking. The two we just spoke to, I don’t know - their talk of ‘virtue’ is strange, and I can’t predict where it will lead. The others… we just arrived and some have already begun to fight and quarrel for no good reason. You seem sensible, but the rest do not impress me. I hope that will change.”

“Rapid change can cause shock in even the hardiest of of living beings.” Phystene said after a moment. “But I do agree with you. Some of the… aggression of our peers makes little sense to me. Perhaps the architect brought them to serve as an example of what not to do or perhaps as a form of competition for the rest of us?” She gave a small shrug. “I suppose at the moment it matters little. As for our to recent conversation partners.... I also do not understand some of their ideas, but I sense that they too wish for life to thrive. Perhaps we won’t agree with them on every matter, but I suspect that on every subject that truly matters we all will have similar opinions.”

“I’m sorry if I’m rambling.” Phystene said after a moment. “It just feels so… refreshing to finally be able to communicate with another being. To be able to do anything in fact.”

Unlike in his previous conversation with Aelius, this time Kalmar remained at full attention. “You are not rambling. Your words are sensible. I do not fully share your optimism, but only time can prove either of us right.”

He paused. “To communicate like this is different… but it is much easier than the manner I am used to, and I suspect the words will come easier as time goes on. I feel like I’ve reached a higher state of being… like I awoke from a sleep for the first time.”

“Perhaps that is an apt description for what has occured to me as well.” Phystene’s gaze shifted towards the massive crystals that would take each deity to their new homes. “We have much work ahead of us. And I believe it is past time we begin to fill this world with life. Shall we part ways now? I have this world’s first plant to create and I look forward to seeing what you have in store for this world.”

Kalmar nodded. “Yes, but we must speak again. Hopefully I will have mastered the skill of conversation by then.” He smiled, “Farewell.” And with that, he turned in the direction of his crystal.

“My sphere will always be open to you.” Phystene returned his smile. “And I shall eagerly wait for you to visit.”

---

The sudden hug had surprised Urhu, despite both women being tall Seihdhara was the stronger one and even lifted the traveller up with the bear hug. It was not only the suddenness of the action, but also the feeling that confused the wander, she could not remember her past, but she knew it had been a long time since she had been this close to anyone.

Once she was let go, there was only one word that could truly capture all that the warm and tight hug made her feel.

“Ouch...” she brushed over where she had been squeezed, it was still aching but Urhu was also being a bit of a baby about it. Seeing her pain, Seihdhara frowned and squeezed the other goddess’ hands slightly, apologising for being a bit too rough and trying to explain that she usually was not so clumsy - it was all that stupid old Ogre’s fault!

Urhu just shook her head and went from overreacting about the pain to trying to look cool and unharmed, not even minding the blood smeared on her arm during the hug! Though she would need a long bath later.

“Well then…” she started awkwardly. “I will be honest, I don’t remember anything before I arrived here. There was something, for sure, but it’s all a blur. Seems like you and a few others, however, have more memories. So pardon me if I am not too fast at this ‘deity’ thing at first. Though, let’s see about this portal business.” Seihdhara listened and nodded slightly, her lips pursed in understanding.
‘Oh… you can’t remember?’ She seemed to find this both odd and horrifying, for her light green eyes going wide in astonishment. ‘Th-that’s terrible. I’m sorry. Do you think maybe…’ she looked at the Architect suspiciously before lowering her voice into a conspiratorial whisper, ‘that maybe that old Ogre is hiding your memories away? Maybe if we open up the door we’ll be able to find more than the rest of me! Maybe we’ll find your memories too!’ There was no small degree of excitement in the saffron-haired goddess’ voice as she spoke.

“That would be a pretty big jerk move, to mess me up specifically while not doing it to others. But nah, I don’t think Mr No-Depth-Perception over there did this. Maybe I just hit my soul equivalent of a head when being born, I don’t know, trying to look too much into that just makes me dizzy.” she shrugged, not sharing an iota of the excitement. However, it was hardly something that did not bother her, a soft frown and distant eyes on her face. Seihdhara appeared to see this, and her excitement seemed to fade ever so slightly, replaced by a somewhat grieved expression. “Anyway. Let me try to see this door thing. It just opened here, right? It should not be too hard…” Though she seemed unwilling to change the subject before Urhu opened up about that that look in her eyes, Seihdhara did not press the issue and graciously went along with it. She exploded enthusiastically, what was left of her hair bouncing as if it had returned to life and vigour.
‘It was right up there!’ Seihdhara declared, pointing at a distant point far above them, from where she had originally plummeted. ‘That old Ogre took my hair and made me fall. I could have hurt somebody! I… I think I did. There was a bird I think.’

”Oh yeah, there was, but it was a big bird, she will be fine. Furthermore, we are gods, I don’t think we could just accidentally …” at this moment she tilted her head slightly and narrowed her eyes, as a deity that was like an armoured mountain of iron started walking, just to carelessly stomp another god on the path. Noticing her sudden silence and that she was staring at something, Seihdhara looked behind them at what was going on. The wanderer blinked rapidly a few times. ”Huh… Maybe we can. But you did not, and that is what matters.”

‘Th-that was horrible! Why’d he do that?’ Seihdhara asked, anger flashing in her eyes. It was only with difficulty that she managed to return her attention to Urhu, for a part of her wanted to go jump after the god who had been crushed and see if they were alright. Urhu took note of that and to ease the situation. ”I think he will be fine, he is a deity after all. Though maybe it would be rude for no one to go check on him, I think it would be best if we looked for this portal first, the longer it has been closed, the harder it should be to try to find and re-open it.” Urhu’s words seemed to please Seihdhara immensely, for a great smile brightened her face and all anger seemed to seep away instantaneously.

With that said, Urhu was quick to turn around and look into the thin air, extending her hands forward and moving them as if she was a blind person trying to find something. She huffed in annoyance. ”Where is it... Don’t tell me it's fully gone…” Seihdhara scanned the empty space above, trying to pinpoint the exact location of the door.

‘It should be directly above where I landed!’ Seihdhara shouted excitedly, rushing over to the centre of the crater she had created in landing and looking directly upward. She made space for Urhu to join her. ‘D-do you see anything?’

”I haven’t hit anything yet.” she said, scanning the local area before suddenly grunting. ”Ouch, my toe.” the goddess looked down and touched her feet. ”Ugh… Maybe I should make like some of those uptight gods… or at least get some boots…! Hey… wait…” Seihdhara loosed a peal of laughter at this, looking over at Asceal and the hunter, Kalmar. Why a god who prided himself on being a hunter would want to be clothed, Seihdhara could only guess. And why would light need to be clothed at all? Would that not serve to hinder and darken it? Some gods just held odd notions, it seemed. She would have to talk with her sister sometime, maybe she would enjoy shedding some layers after seeing how much easier it made things! Urhu seemed to be distracted by something near the ground, and Seihdhara returned her ever straying thoughts to the task at hand.

It was just then that Urhu noticed she had stumbled upon nothing, there was nothing in front of them, but, there was something as well, something hidden. Without saying a word, she reached forward, her hands stopping in the air as if she was touching some sort of invisible box.

‘What is it, Rhu-rhu?’ Seihdhara asked curiously, trying to see what the other goddess was touching.

”The gate, I think.” she pressed forward, but her body moved back before her hands would move any further. ”Damn… Even being the goddess of passages, I can’t make this thing even react to me.” in second thought, it was expected, a goddess of combat had just been beaten by the cyclopean deity, still, Urhu was not ready to give up, not until she tried everything.

Seihdhara knelt by Urhu and extended her hands to where the door was meant to be, but her hands passed through the area as though there was nothing. Frowning, she looked at Urhu in confusion. ‘I can’t feel anything. If I could get a grip on it I could force it open - I did it before! Maybe if you can get a feel for its edge or something? I don’t know how these work exactly, but I managed to hold it open from the edges. Was tough though, couldn’t keep it open long enough...’ She seemed both saddened and frustrated by the memory of her inability to hold on.

The wanderer looked to her side and nodded as her sister spoke, indeed looking for the edges would be a good start, but she had to stop for a moment to acknowledge Seihdhara. ”You held it open!?” she said almost in disbelief. ”... wow.”

She started to feel the ‘gate’ for its edge, what she found instead was that it vanished suddenly and only a very small area was touchable. ”Hmm… seems like most of the gate vanished for good, except this one small spot.” she wondered what could be the cause of this, brushing against the walls, feeling the perfectly flat surface… until one bit stood out, a small imperfection. ”A crack? Whoa… there is a lot of pressure here, it is really trying to close but something is stopping it.”

Leaning forward, face even closer to where she sensed the gate, she started to claw at the invisible and untouchable area, soon, from thin air, a strand of red hair would appear, pulled out of the rift by Urhu. ”Ah… I know this thing. Seems like some of your hair got stuck in the gate and is resisting the closure. Quick, grab it, let’s get it out before its cut again.” Seihdhara looked to where Urhu had been tugging and spotted the small strand. And it was moving. Exhilarated by the sight, the Crimson Goddess reached - ever so carefully - for the tiny strand and, gaining a strong grip on it with her thumb and forefinger, pulled on it gently. As if recognising the hand that touched it, the strand seemed to glow with renewed vigour and Seihdhara felt it become searingly hot. Biting her lip, Seihdhara looked to Urhu uncertainly. She had a grip on the strand, but was it safe to pull?

The wander took a deep breath and tried to gently hold Seihdhara’s hand, she did it a bit awkwardly, but the intention was true. ”Don’t worry, I am a goddess of passages, maybe not one good enough to open the gates to the worlds beyond, but I will keep your hair safe. You have my word.” Smiling and glad for her sister’s encouragement, Seihdhara tightened her grip and slowly began to pull on the strand. At first she thought it would only be a small strand and come loose quickly, but Seihdhara soon found that she had to use both hands to draw it in. A metre, two metres, more. Seihdhara could not repress the giggle that left her throat as the parts of the strand she had managed to free began to wrap about her arm. When the entire strand had come free of the door Seihdhara had stopped thinking about how long it was. Sighing with relief, she knelt by Urhu and planted a kiss on her sister’s cheek.

‘You are a good goddess Rhu-rhu. You are strong. Never have any doubt about that!’ And Seihdhara would have hugged the wanderer again were she not worried that whatever the Ogre had done to her would make her hurt Urhu again. She had not known the wanderer long at all, but already she knew that this was a person she loved - and would grow to love all the more. And the feeling made her smile.

Urhu had become positively flustered at this, mostly just awkward but also a bit pained, a sudden worry and neurosis surfacing as she thought of this new friendship and tried to remember ones she had lost and then forgotten. She shook her head and focused her mind on the present, past was past, the future was yet to be, and she looked up at her sister and smiled slightly, happy to see the joy in her face. ”Glad I could be of help, guess this is my first act as a goddess of passages, eh?” she laughed, a bit proud.

Beaming, Seihdhara stood to her full height and stroked the single living strand of hair wrapped about her right wrist like a great red torc. Though it was by no means her hair returned to her, this was a good step forward. Where there was life, there was hope, and Seihdhara was nothing if not full of life. She suddenly remembered the god who had been crushed and looked behind her, worry apparent on her face. ‘Rhu-rhu!’ She exclaimed suddenly, ‘that other one - what’s his face? Orvy? I’m going to check on him now!’ She looked back at the wanderer, her eyes glistening, ‘I can’t thank you enough Rhu. I’ll see you in a bit!’ And she leapt away. ‘Don’t forget me!’ Was the last she said before disappearing into the hole left behind by Orvus.

Those last words made her flinch, but with a deep breath, she smirked and approached the hole and yelled back. ”Remember, no bear hugging! See ya!” she said, half in tease, half in worry for the likely hurt god.

---

As the flash of red that was Seihdhara faded, so did Urhu’s smile, the wanderer suddenly shooting a look to her left, where a quartet led by a shining goddess talked. Her distant eyes when she talked to her sister had not always been caused by the wander being lost in half-forgotten memories, she had been paying attention to Asceal, and it seemed all her suspicions were true.

A few muffled voices tried to interrupt Kirron's solitude. The water around him absorbed most of it. His upper lip lifted in defiance like a child wanting just a few minutes longer to sleep in the morning. With his eyes closed, sitting up on the floor of the dark pool of water with his knuckles together, he kept himself at arms length from the chaos above.

How their hearts thudded. How their energy ran high. How pure their blood was, each and every one of them. Including himself.

Kirron had no trouble eavesdropping. With knowledge bestowed of those around him, his lips quirked up at how it applied to the interactions. Friends, enemies, and more. He felt his own impressions of the beings summed up in easy enough thoughts. It was odd how much noise they made given the lack of things they had to do.

Well, perhaps a few of them had some things to do. Not Kirron. He did not feel any need to do anything.

At least at first.

His eyes opened. He stood up, looked up. Up there were rays of fresh light wavering and refracting on the surface. He pushed off the floor with his feet and drifted up.

The less distracted deities might have noticed him on the way up. His breaking of the water's surface at the edge of the Architect's great dais was more apparent. A head of short white hair launching up in front of a pair of hulking arms that grabbed onto the dais floor. Kirron hoisted himself up, revealing himself dripping wet from his bright red skin and simplistic hide and bone clothing. He stood, stopped, and stretched his arms up, yawning deeply. After a quick adjustment of the large animal skull strapped to his shoulder, he took a few steps forward, sniffing and looking across the ground.

"Hmph. Where'd it go?" He mumbled in a baritone. "It was here before."

He knelt down in front of the nearest blood stain. He dabbed his thumb in the blood and felt it between his fingers.

He paused in thought, and then poked out his lower lip and shrugged. "Strange."

Kirron stood and rested his hands on his hips, regarding the crystals and the other gods. "Are your feet stuck or something? Go out and find something to do, you slouches." he said, before turning and starting towards a crystal.

Chopstick stood her ground as the Iron God loomed over her, secure this time in the calmness of Ashalla's waters, albeit only physically. She managed not to back up too much as the great feet came to a halt before her, and not lean back too much as the great eye narrowed above her.

"Hrrah, hah, ah... Are you looking for..."

She wiggled the cleaver.

The absurdity of what she had done hit her along with the tension and she winced back hard at the sound of an unsatisfied grunt.

It was a long few seconds that followed. Every subtle move of the Iron God's hands sent blood rushing into her headbones, striking her anew with the heart-stopping fear of instant annihilation. From below, she was unable to determine whether he was wringing his wrists in murderous frustration or charging up a blast of less insidious but substantially more lethal divine energies. By the time he lowered his finger silently towards her, she had shed eight wooden spikes from her eyes and retreated three steps, and was nearly in tears.

She kept her fists up, though.

The cleaver-scimitar hit the stone with a splash and she jumped back with an 'eep!', hair jolting in every direction as if electrified. But the tension was broken, and Narzhak explained himself, and Chopstick found that she really was crying, fishing up the giant noodle shortener with a messy sniff as gelatinous tears of marvel rolled down her cheeks.

"Thank you! I will!" she yelled, standing up after crumpling under the shadow of the leaping titan. Ashalla, Shengshi, Seihdhara, Azura, now Narzhak... for all its chaos, Chopstick realised, there was nothing in the world that was quite like family.

"...but thank fuck," she murmured, if only to herself and Ashalla. "I don't think I could've gone through with that."

An iridescent streak flashed off overhead.

"See you all on Galbar..."

"AZURA!"

Unwilling to let the macaw god go without thanks, Chopstick shed her weakness like dust and bounded on all fours after the bird, kicking water in a high spray with every landing until she hurled herself, like cannon shot, onto the dead center of a crystal platform.

Her stone followed Azura's with tremendous speed, and as Chopstick crouched and held on with her left hand, she found she could control its journey with the touch of her lower right palm (her upper- and middle-right arms were preoccupied with handling the cleavers). Still, Azura had a considerable lead. By the time Chopstick had accelerated enough to catch up, Azura had come to a halt in her Sphere, and the god-gremlin shot onwards, far far below, unable to stop.

Crap! Empty spheres flashed past her as Galbar grew ever nearer and Chopstick struggled to find some way to slow. Scratching around herself in brief panic, she grabbed her dress by the shoulders and plucked at it.

From its silk unfolded behind her a huge and glorious kite, sewn of many colours.

The speed of the crystal provided lift, and its plummet halted, and Chopstick Eyes found herself flying over the nascent sea with the wind in her hair and the strings of destiny in her hands. After a moment she stood, her dress still soaked and tattered, and stared, undaunted, into the wind.

Somewhere out in the void, she knew the Architect would still be looking back. She remembered her unasked question. It didn't matter now.

I know what to do.

As the air around her turned from black to morning blue, and she finally felt like something fully born.

---

It wasn't long before Chopstick Eyes located a mountain, jutting out from the shimmering waters in the distance. She tensed her cleaver-bearing arms. It was time to take Narzhak's gift out for a spin.

Bending her knees just enough to stabilise her body, Chopstick Eyes reached out with the pumpkin carvers, and turned the kite towards the stone. Closer, closer...

...In a blur of godly mettle, she struck off the mountain's head.

An instant passed before the second cleaver came down on the falling peak, slicing that, too, in twain. White columns of water shot towards the skies behind her as the pieces landed in the shallow sea. Chopstick turned the kite to survey the damage, and saw the base of the mountain, still standing as an island with a high plateau, as flat as a chopping-board.

"Hah!"

She stuck out her tongue with the sheer cheek of it. Her eyelids twitched, but were unable to wink over the skewers in her head. Still, she needed a pose to celebrate the occasion, and others like it; she settled for raising two fingers in a v-shape next to her head, a salute for anyone who might be watching.

Her elation lasted until she realised that she had begun to slow. Guiding the disc as she could, Chopstick Eyes landed herself on a nearby sandbar as the crystal petered out and dropped her on the surface of Galbar, the kite folding slowly up behind her.

"...Oops."

She knew her Sphere lay below her somewhere. With a fairly satisfied shrug, Chopstick put her knees to the dirt, scooped out a clump of sand and started digging.

It was just absurd, no finesse, no sense of respect, no care for the natural order of things and if their creation would cause any problem, rob others of anything. She could smell the arrogance and egomania from where she was standing, to Urhu it was clear those two probably did not even consider the possibility of them being wrong about anything, of something not of their liking also deserving to exist.

The wanderer stopped and crossed her arms, brooding. Perhaps she was being too hasty, they had not truly disclosed the entirety of their idea, but judging the tone of their words, their expression when they talked, she knew what they would do, they would banish darkness. Creating light would not be enough, she knew, they would try to make light inescapable, they probably already considered the darkness goddess an adversary.

"What a bother." she just could not allow that. There were a time and a place for things, there was a time for light, and a time for darkness, robbing mortals of the latter was cruel... and boring, which was what truly bothered Urhu.

It seemed there was no choice, she would need to look after this and take down any idiot plan she found before it was too late. The question was how, the first thing, she assumed, would be to move out of the noisy room so she would be allowed to hear her own thoughts. Looking around, she found the crystal and hopped onto it, immediately flying towards the blue sphere that was Galbar.

The crystal was very fast, but not fast enough, especially when one did not have control over its direction. The view was... bland, no starlight, no cosmic objects, but the soft glow of the barrier was pretty against the blue of Galbar. She could feel the passage through the many celestial spheres as she was very attuned to boundaries, but she would need no special sense to notice the entrance into the planet, it was like hitting a body of water at high speeds. It was at that time she decided she had enough, standing up on the flying crystal and jumping down, trying to outrun it.

It was much better to be diving down at your pace than to be stuck riding a crystal, the wind felt great against one's face and there was a sense of thrill. She looked at her arm and noticed the ichor stain caused by Seihdhara's hug, she still totally wanted a bath but did not want to fully erase the event. Touching over her right arm, she made spot turn into a mark on her skin, just in time for her to dive into the water and wash all else away.

The crash against water was strong, and it felt great, even if the ocean was still simple, plain and dimly lit, the feeling of water against one's body was irreplaceable, it was too bad her immortal godly body did not allow her to truly experience the elements to their fullest.

Another thing crashed into the water, the crystal, and Urhu smirked, if it was a sentient thing she would have teased it about how late it was. The floating was fun, but she had to hurry, as the one-way ticket to her home sphere did not seem to care about waiting for her. Swimming after it, the goddess went deeper and deeper into the ocean. At one point, she broke some boundary and trespassed into a sphere, not hers though. The lack of light down there was so oppressive even she was becoming somewhat anxious, swimming in what appeared to be an endless void, it was thankful she had the crystal to follow.

The crystal entered a cave and she followed, racing after it through the underwater maze, others might have been lost there, but the goddess was attuned to directions and passages, she knew where to go, and that she was going upward, leaving the sea sphere behind.

Soon, she surfaced in what seemed to be an endless cave, now this was her home. The crystal lost all of its power upon arrival, and she was forced to swim with it under her arm as she went for the nearest shore.

"Bah, finally home." she said as she stretched, finally leaving the sea behind. Noticing her hair had come loose after such a long trip, she braided it again. Then she looked around, seeing all that empty land, and bit her lips. "Okay, enough of home, let me find something to do."

It immediately struck her that it would be good to have some method of travel. Running, floating and swimming was fun, but sometimes she needed to be fast. Looking down at the crystal she pondered and then smiled, picking it up, charging it with all of her power, and throwing it on away from the shore, into the ocean.

Strong light and loud noises filled the sphere as a large vessel rose from the waters, a ship, made of some unknown substance but clearly imitating wood, on its deck there was a long house-like structure, and on the roof of the said structure, there were many animal statues: a couple of Cervidae near the bow and canines on the back, with birds of prey appearing all around.



Raising her hand, the goddess ordered the boat to be smaller, and so it did, becoming a small flat-bottomed boat, shapeshifting as it lost size, but never losing the motifs, now a large Cervidae head decorated the bow, canines flanked it and a hawk rested atop a pillar.



The goddess stepped into the shore, walking over water, and jumped into the barque. Naming a vessel was always necessary for good luck, and she went with something basic, "Nyeothay Tag". The next task was to find a door to enter the inner rooms of the vessel. If anyone were it her at the moment she found the hatch and went down it, they would be confused as they would find themselves in a corridor far larger than the current ship, as the inside of the boat did not become any smaller despite the change outside.

The rooms of the boat were all furnished, with impressively modest choices for an all-powerful goddess but in no way minimalist, if anything, it was quite 'cosy'. Urhu took a piece of paper and a vial of ink and started writing down some notes and charts over the trip she took, her very first map, of many that were to come. With that task done, she went back up and prepared the ship to move.

No sails no oars, the ship moved by itself, starting to gain speed on the water at first, but as the bird of prey opened its wings, the ship took flight. To Urhu's surprise, there was a ceiling to her sphere, and no cave connecting it to Galbar, this would need to be amended. She took a deep breath and then blew the wind out as a thick mist, in seconds, it was a large cloud looming over the sphere's ocean.

Nyeothay Tag once again landed on water and started sailing into the clouds. Soon, there was nothing but the mist around them, but with such a fast ship, it did not take long before it had left the clouds, however, what was above it was not the ceiling of The Purlieu's sphere boundaries, but the soft glow of The Barrier. Having reached Galbar again, Urhu willed the boat to take flight again, it was time to check on what the divine sticks-in-the-mud were doing.

Shengshi put his clawed hands on his hips and looked around. More and more of his siblings zoomed off into that great, dark yonder - leaving the lookout quite empty, like it had been a mere moment ago. The snake gave a gentle sigh and shot the blinking crystal vessels an expectant look. A hand on one of those shards and his work would begin, he thought to himself. A somewhat anxious clump formed in the snake's belly. Shengshi rolled his shoulders, clapped and rubbed his hands together, and then began to slither towards the crystals.

Or so he would have, had he not slithered into clacking crawler called Ohannakeloi, who Shengshi thought still seemed rather lost. He looked down at his smaller brother with a smile.

"Dear brother Ohannakeloi, that's not the way to the crystals! They're over there!" Shengshi patted the crab on its shell and slithered on past towards the crystals. Shengshi touched the crystal absent-mindedly and soared off deep in thought. First, he needed a proper home: One that would welcome all his siblings; one that would please his aesthetic requirements; and one that would inspire millennia of poetry and tales.

A river, no, ten rivers! No! His eyes glistened with inspiration. A thousand-hundred-thousand rivers! With only specks of mud and soil in between! A true home for himself. A thought passed through him - one remembering his more elemental siblings. A being of fire like Sartravius would naturally not be welcome in a realm such as Shengshi described. This perplexed the snake as he grabbed onto his crystal and shot off into the empty space. How would a realm satisfying to him also welcome the presence of a being of pure, unrelenting flames? How could it be made comfortable to it?

A castle, perhaps? One of stone? Shengshi waved the thought away and muttered to himself. A stone castle wasn’t a pleasing sight to him, and it would likely sink in the wetlands. How about a castle of metal? Shengshi frowned in disappointment at his lacking creativity. A castle of metal was even worse on the eye than stone! It would also outshine the rivers in the moonlight, which was an atrocious thought.
How would he write poetry about his beautiful rivers, then, if the castle was prettier? No, no, no, it could -not- be so.

As the crystal carried Shengshi closer and closer to the watery world of Galbar, the snake felt his imagination grow more barren by the minute. He decided to leave the idea for now - he approached his new home.

The crystal halted a few feet off the water’s surface. This was not Galbar, however. This was an empty plane of water, occasionally interrupted by a tiny clump of clay that managed to break through the dull waves. While this world shared many traits with the Middle World, the area was smaller; the waters, fresher. Shengshi sensed potential. He swam around for a few hours, surveying his new home. The waters stuck deep in some places and merely covered the ground in others. Still, Shengshi thought, this plane was incomplete. It had no flow. That was the first quality that required change. However, the snake knew not how.

He swam around for what felt like weeks in the clear waters devoid of life and motion. The colour of the water had whitened his eyes to the point where there was no colour left. Shengshi’s reflection intrigued him, but was likewise a frightening image - a lord of a dead stream - no, a lake.

A push.

Shengshi whirled around with a sudden swiftness that caused colossal waves to shoot out around him. He remained completely still, disturbed only by the water rings he made himself.

There it was again.

Shengshi did not hesitate. The god kicked off and rocketed down into the depths. He felt it - a flow. He redoubled his speed, causing the water in front of him to boil. He arrived, finally, at the brink of a great pit into the depths. The hole expelled a weak force - but a force nonetheless.

Flow, Shengshi thought. This was it. Shengshi dove into the hole. The tunnel stretched for miles, but soon, it split into uncountable smaller tunnels and holes, most too small for Shengshi to enter. He tasted the waters from a subset of the holes - each flavour met his tongue differently - some being rich and soily; others, weak and metallic. The colours also differed, but not enough to be particularly noticable. Shengshi nodded to himself and propelled himself back up. This would be the centre of his home, but he needed to empower it.

The snake reached the surface of the water. There, he took a deep breath and raised his arms. The waters began to stir, then quiver, and finally flow away from him. The waters around him gave way to spots of fertile, unsown mud and sand, covered by the dark lake since the dawn of this universe. As the waters pulled away, more and more land peeked up from beneath the frothing waves. It was then immediately swallowed again. Then it came back. This cycle sanded plots until they were smooth and round and dragged the mud and sand along to colour the waters beige. The god found himself standing on a such plot before long, the area around him growing ever drier. He took a moment to look around - where was all the water going? He quickly turned back, however, to see the fruits of his labour.

A ring of foam and mud formed in the water before him. The water within the ring began pouring over the foam, further pushing away what little water remained around it. A black, grey and brown wall of stone and dirt soon lifted the ring up into the air, curving outwards first at a sharp slope, then flattening out as it got taller, water crashing down its sides at all times. Shengshi gazed upward as the hill became a mountain, then clapped his hands together. There was a blinding flash and the quakes ceased. The only sounds were Shengshi’s ragged breathing and the drums of water smashing against stone. He bent forward, a little too far, perhaps, and shivered a little from the imbalance. He regarded his abdomen for a moment, finding that the poem had, thankfully, not been smudged. I suppose that’s godblood for you, Shengshi thought to himself. He then looked up. The mountain stood as a lonely pyramid in the middle of endless wetlands, with what nearly amounted to a volcanic torrent of water shooting up from the caldera on its peak. The rivers that poured down around the mountain flowed out in every direction, bringing with them the colours and flavours from the caldera’s deep. Shengshi wiped some sweat off his forehead, brushed his black hair to the side and faced the mountain with a fanged grin of pride on his face.

“I shall name you Shiquan - the world spring!” The snake drew the characters 世泉 into the mud at his feet.

“Forever shall you supply all worlds with waters fresh and clear!” There was another flash and the characters in the mud turned to stone, unyielding even in the face of floods. As if to confirm it understood its purpose, the caldera at the mountain’s peak shot forth streams more powerful than before, nearly breaking its walls apart. Shengshi gave a satisfied nod and turned on his tail. He surveyed the sphere - it was empty, still, but more land had been revealed from under the rivers. Yet the world was still grey and brown - not much to write about, Shengshi thought. That also had to change.

Shengshi, using all his strength, swam up the waterfalls along the newly formed world spring mountain. Once at the top, Shengshi surveyed all-under-Shiquan. He raised both hands and exclaimed, “The flow is formed - come and drink in it!” The spots of land were soon covered in green grasses and small shrubberies. Some of the innumerable rivers grew verdant with algae. The mountain sprouted vines and grass around the waterfalls. Yes, this was a realm he could be proud of. His rivers were still rather empty, though. They needed something - life! Shengshi picked up a fistful of mud. Yes, something to enjoy his world! He fashioned the wet mud into, well, the first thing he could think of - a shape much like his own. He admired his handsome work for a moment. Would not that be interesting - a world filled with miniatures of himself. Why not, he decided.

“You, dear creation, shall be-...!”

A grain of sand on the wind tickled his nostrils. Shengshi shivered and rubbed his nose with a clawed hand.

“Ach-.. Ugh… As I said, you shall be-...!”

Another gust tickled him some more. The snake inhaled in a hacking manner before unleashing a ferocious sneeze upon the mud clump, which soared out of his palm and off the side of the mountain. Shengshi slithered to the edge in a hurry. There was a splash below. Shengshi let out a disappointed sigh.

Then there was another splash.

Shengshi raised an eyebrow and looked closer. There was something in the river. Suddenly, the rings around where the mud clump had fallen gave way to several smaller rings and lines in the water. They were… Worms? A bundle of simple worm in the colour of rivermud flopped their way through the water, feasting on the algae blooms. Shengshi scratched his head. He still had much to learn about his powers, he supposed.

“Uhm… Yes! You shall, uh, you shall be the Mudsnake! Or… Mud Worm, I suppose. Yes, mud worm!” He wrote the characters 泥虫 in the mud at his tail. ”You shall, uh, feast on algae and, uh, swim around in the water! You shall also be food to larger beasts of the rivers! To help you in that endeavor, your eggs will be shielded with earth as long as they are laid in my rivers. Good luck on your journey, little friend!” As if to show they had heard his commands, the worms flailed around in the water for a bit before swimming on to their destinations.

Shengshi coughed a little and licked his lips. He was thirsty. He bent down and had a sip of the water in the spring. Wait, what was that flavour? He licked the insides of his mouth an additional time before having another sip. A bit of… Tang? Shengshi froze. Who had polluted his rivers?! The snake jumped into the spring and swam down to the bottom. He tasted the water from every hole, but nothing yielded the same flavour. Then, what was it? He swam back up and sat on the waterbank in thought. He had another sip of the water. There it was again. Shengshi keeled over and put his face in his hands. Had he already failed in his mission to keep his waters clean? A few tears rolled down his fingers, one of which splashed into the spring. The water springed ever so gently, but the surface was not water. Shengshi spread his fingers so he could see. What… What was this? Shengshi picked at the surface and it separated into smaller flakes. Upon further inspection, the surface was a gentle shade of brown and yellow. Shengshi scooped up some water with flakes in it and drank it. It gave off a sour flavour and Shengshi felt a gentle warmth in his belly. What… What was this? Upon further analysis, Shengshi concluded that it had to be some strange form of algae or dust. Shengshi sampled some more of it and soon felt the warmth in his belly spread to his hands and head. What… Ish thish? Shengshi thought to himself, grinning. He stood up, but his attempt failed as he struggled to control his tail. The snake laid there of the ground, laughing loudly and vulgarly.

“I musht puh-... Puhur-... presherve thish!” he said to himself, making another fruitless attempt to stand up. He took another handful of the flaky substance. He spilled some of the water it floated in as he brought the hand to his nose. He sniffed the substance and savoured its eggy smell. Was it a plant? A fungus? It did not behave like algae, though. Shengshi sampled the fungus in all ways his clouded mind could think of. He could not exactly decide on what it consisted of, but he believed he understood its function. The water sample also contained dead algae, a kind soft and sweet to the tongue. The flakes had caught the snake’s interest, but they lacked potency. He had, after all, spent probably what amounted to days sampling the substance for its effects. It had to be empowered.

Shengshi brought the flakes to the foot of the mountain, feeling their influence on him fade over time. So it was not permanent. That was, in all fairness, probably for the best, Shengshi thought. Shengshi created a hole in the mud and had four rivers, all carrying different muds and nutrients, pour a little of their water into it, effectively creating a whirlpool. Once the whirlpool was created, Shengshi cast upon it a spell of perpetuity to keep it spinning until he willed it to stop. He then sprinkled the flakes into the whirlpool along with a heaping helping of sweet algae water. For a while, nothing happened. The waters spun around in a dark, muddy mess. The snake felt the sharp sting of disappointment at his failed experiment. However, soon, the waters changed colour. The muddy brown soon gave way to a lighter beige, the water clearing as the flakes absorbed the sacred muds. A frothing foam began to form in the middle of the whirlpool and Shengshi stuck his finger in to taste it. It did not taste great. Shengshi frowned. The waters were now completely clear, save for a pillar of beige foam in the middle. Shengshi took a sip of the waters, grimacing. What had happened? What had gone wro-?!

The snake suddenly collapsed. The warmth was unbearable. Exhaustion flushed his body like a wave washed over a beach. Shengshi made a futile effort to push himself up, his control merely managing to move his arms and tail in a slight flail. He tried to formulate words, but all that came out where alien vowels backed up by slurred consonants. The flavour had been disgusting, yet the effect… Oh yes, the effect.

Shengshi spent the following hours drinking regular river water to purge his body of the substance. He had done it. He had intensified the effects of this magical drink. The source must’ve been the foam - or rather, the beige sand that formed below it. He willed the whirlpool to stop and sampled the sand. It was quite unimpressive on its own, a sort of organic, beige mush with a sulphuric, rank stink. However, after spending the next few days making more whirlpools and testing this mush with different kinds of sweet grasses, water and weeds, Shengshi had realised that the potential of this substance was much greater than he had anticipated. Shengshi rolled his latest batch around in his mouth and swallowed. The flavour was far sweeter and softer than the first batch, but its influence on him was not as powerful. A good balance, he thought, but there was still much to be explored with his new creation.

“But what to call you, I wonder,” Shengshi said and grabbed a handful of mush. “I name you… Hmm…” The snake plucked at his hair. “Ah, yes. You shall be known as Sleeper's sand! Here are your commands: You shall grow for the pleasure of other beings; you shall exist to bring fine drink to all life; and…” Shengshi scratches his chin. “... And you shall only grow in waters that others do not depend on. Would not want to knock out all life in this world.” The yeasted mush gave off a gentle flash and Shengshi poured it back into the whirlpool and wrote down the characters 睡沙酴 in the mud at his tail. He clapped the remains of the yeast off his palm and looked around. “I think I shall call that drink ‘wine’. Yes, wine.”

Now all that remained was a proper place to call home. Shengshi’s mind returned to the thought of a castle. Should it be built upon the world spring, perhaps? Yes, yes, that was a good idea! A grandiose castle upon the world spring! The foundations were strong and stubborn - the rivers could sand at those for aeons without breaking them-...

A loud rumble came from the top of the world spring. Shengshi looked up to the top, his body freezing in the moment. Another rumble. The waterfalls suddenly grew. Shengshi jumped into the closest river and swam to the top of the spring with all his speed, just in time to witness the cataclysmic event.

The steady stream of water from the spring turned into an eruption that knocked Shengshi off the mountain top. The god fell unscathed into the waters below, but the same could not be said about the plant life on the sparse spots of land around him. In the mere blink of his eyes, everything was once again covered in an endless sea of freshwater that flowed in all directions. The god popped his head out of the water and looked around. Occasionally, Shengshi spotted a mud worm or two surface and flop around in confusion. Shengshi was devastated. How… How had this happened? Had he done something wrong? Had he caused some eruption by raising the mountain out of the ground? What was this?!

Shengshi dove down. Through the muddy water, he could see the plant life had all but disappeared. Shengshi did not need to breathe per se, but this terror within him choked him. Had the Architect done this? Had one of his siblings done this? The snake laid down on the riverbed, curled up in a ball, where he wept.

He did not know how much time had passed. Some mud worms had occasionally come up to nibble on him, thinking that his red scale coat perhaps was a strange kind of algae. It took a little while longer before Shengshi realised that the water levels had reduced considerably. The snake opened his tearing eyes, swam up and looked around once he surfaced. The sphere was just as it had been. The islands had shifted, yes, but they were as green as before, if not greener. Around the island banks, colonies of mud worms wriggled around in the spongey clay.

“Wh-... What?”
Shengshi climbed to the top of the world spring and surveyed the land. It had changed, yet it was exactly the same. He wiped a tear of joy and one of fear. Was this a quality of his home? An asterisk in his contract? Shengshi found it abhorring. For the life he had spent his power creating for just to disappear like that. Yet it regrew, stronger than before, even. Shengshi plucked at his dripping hair in deep thought. This made the idea of a home much more complicated…

Some days of thought, poetry and drinking passed. The snake felt lost, imagining home after home that would now be impossible thanks to the dangers of flooding. It was midday. Shengshi slithered into the waters as usual for a swim, rolling over on his back and floating there in a tranquil manner. After a while, he completely stopped paddling and let the current carry him wherever it happened to lead. There, Shengshi fell asleep.

The red light of sunset shone through the pinkish fog on the horizon. Shengshi slowly opened his eyes and stretched. Something was wiggling on his belly. The snake lifted his head to see a pile of mud worms who had, for some reason, decided to feed on Shengshi's leathery skin - a rather futile attempt. The snake let out a gentle sigh and laid his head back in the water again, ignoring the worms. A spark shot through his imagination. Shengshi looked back down on his belly, where the worms still made great efforts to bite through his godly hide. Of course! Shengshi rolled over, catapulting his passengers to a different river far away, and swam back to the world spring at a frightening pace. How could he have been so stupid? If his house would be prone to flooding, he should just build the house on top of something that floats! Shengshi started designing his ship in the mud, drawing out a hull in his own dragonic shape, with a colossal, magnificent castle on top. Yes, it would have guest rooms for all his siblings, servants to service them, and a banquet hall with endless courses! Oh! And a floor for his wine, of course.

The design looked satisfactory - now to bring it into reality. With his hands raised, the god summoned forth several tons of the finest wood planks, jewels, metals, oils, dyes and paints. The planks danced around one another, colliding and bending into an intricately designed hull with a dragon's head and tail. The hull was then promptly infused with sacred, magical oils so that, no matter the storms, no one would unwillingly fall out of it. The oils would also make the hull impervious to the elements, so that all his siblings could stay on the ship regardless of whatever primordial force their forms may expel.

After the hull was made, the god proceeded to the construction of the castle on top. The remaining planks clanked together to form three tall towers, the middle one being the tallest and widest. The middle tower was divided into three sections: a top, a middle and a bottom, each wider than the one above. Its neighbours were divided into two sections under the same principle. Immaculate dragon figurines in gold with aquamarine eyes adorned the green jade roof tiles upon the tall mahogany towers. The round windows were complemented by rich red, silken curtains, and the pillars on every corner were made of bright amber beautifully carved to resemble reptilian hide. Each bedroom was, to its best ability, catered to its respective gods’ size and needs, though his especially large siblings would probably have to sleep on the deck. Still, however, all the rooms sported walls of mahogany, a matress of feathers, silken sheets and an intricately woven, gilded carpet that displayed the respective gods’ symbol.

The feast hall took up the most space, reaching from the base of the tallest middle tower to the very lowest floor of the hull, a distance of nearly fifty feet, half the ship's total height. This hall should be able to accommodate all, Shengshi reasoned. Finally, every room was oiled and painted as the cherry on the extraordinary cake.

It took uncountable days and nights to work in the most intricate details, but at last, it stood finished - a vessel worthy of the Lord of the Thousand Streams and all of his siblings.

“I name you Jiangzhou, the Castle on the River. May you never yield to any flood and may you host ten thousand feasts on and under your deck!” Shengshi carved the characters of the ship's namee into the hull with a clawed finger. As if to answer the order with a plegde of loyalty, the aquamarine eyes of the dragon’s head on the ship's front, as well as the eyes of every other draconic figure onboard, shone with a bright blue light.

One thing remained - servants. Shengshi was, however, exhausted beyond belief from creating the Jiangzhou. The servants thus had to be simple, which he reasoned would not be too much of an issue considering the job requirements. Now, how should his servants be made?

Shengshi first thought of mutating some mud worms, but their slimy, slippery shapes and lack of flat surfaces or appendages did not really suit the servile profession - besides, they would eat all the carpets. Mud golems could be an idea, but he was too weak now. No, it had to be something simpler.

Shengshi sat on the edge of the deck, gazing across his vast realm. The ship created no waves, for the current was the only propellant Shengshi deemed worthy of pushing his vessel. However, some waves crashed against his ship. Shengshi observed the waves.

Another flash of inspiration overcame him.

Shengshi waved his hands, and a stream of water shot up from the rivers below and splashed all over the deck. Shengshi made sure to keep the water moving as to not lose control over it, creating a colossal, flat whirlpool on his deck.

“Droplets of the stream, obey your master!” The whirlpool split apart into ten thousand smaller globs of water that all zoomed around in circles on the deck, frequently through one another. Shengshi continued, “You are hereby granted the title of Deckhands. You will see to all affairs on the ship, serve my guests and me, and, naturally, keep the deck clean.” One of the globs crashed into a wall and immediately broke apart into a puddle. Shengshi raised an eyebrow. “Oh, and, uh, make sure to always stay moving.” He waved a hand once more. “I grant you all the power of reformation. Should you ever fall apart from the lack of movement, you will be flushed overboard and reform in the streams. You may then return to service onboard the Jiangzhou.” As a gesture of respect for their master, all the globules of water stopped, bowed, and subsequently blew up in a spectacle of watery explosions. Shengshi gave a tired sigh and slithered to his master bedroom.

Before long, however, the globules climbed their way back up along the hull and quickly got to work.

Shengshi laid curled up in his massive, masterfully shapen, cotton-filled, silk-upholstered, jade and gold-adorned mahogany stick and river reed basket. He felt more exhausted than he ever had, which was not a considerable milestone, but he liked the comparison anyway. Lastly, his realm needed a name. He had had one in mind since he first arrived, but he had since changed it somewhat. He looked up at the ceiling through the the opening of the basket and wrote the characters absent-mindedly in the air.

“I name you Fengshui Fuyou. You shall bring the clearest, richest water to all realms, from this day until the end of time.”

There was a crackling flash in the sky. The ship picked up its pace. Shengshi stuck his head out of his basket and looked through the window dressed in red, silken drapes which were dancing in the wind. The rivers were doing as they were told - the flow extended its reach to all worlds.

The next day, the snake felt somewhat rested. Shengshi pondered for a bit. He had done so much in his own world, yet his mission did not end here. There was still the question of Galbar and its rivers. Shengshi plucked at his mustache in thought. He could not very well do anything about those from here. Not even the lord of rivers could create rivers across sphere. At least, not yet.

He had to travel there himself.

Shengshi climbed out of his basket and slithered his way to the front of his ship. There, he sat down on the dragon's head, surveying the horizon. The ship was currently sailing a wide and deep river, one of the largest flows to come from the world spring. A fitting place to build a route to the Middle World.

Shengshi erected himself to a standing position and lifted his arms. The river waters in front of the ship began to twist and turn. Soon, the edges of the water lifted off the surface and danced around one another until they created a beautiful knots of river ribbons in the form of an arch. The arch stretched up taller than the ship itself, and the dew and droplets that rained down from the top formed a mirage of the other side - Galbar.

“You are Hemen, the river gate! Forever shall your doors be locked unless one presents one of your two keys: The first key is my command, for I am your creator and master until the end of time; the second key is the head of a dragon. Should any other being present to you the head of a dragon such as this one...” Shengshi gestured to the head of his ship. “... You shall welcome them into my realm. This is your lord's command!” Shengshi drew the characters in the air, and with a bright flash, they sprouted as shapes on the very top of the arch. The water along the gate's borders foamed as if to voice its loyalty. Shengshi nodded in satisfaction.

“Now… To Galbar.”

‘’
--




Orvus was alone once more. Such loneliness did not bother him however, it only reminded him of what he had lost. It was tranquil to float without care, to let his mind relax with what had been forced into his being.

It was but a sliver of the peace he had craved once, and without a care in the world, Orvus shut his eyes, and let the sensation of weightlessness wash over him.

With Urhu’s voice behind her, Seihdhara fell through the great tunnel torn into the old Ogre’s moon by Orvus as he descended. The living torc of hair around her wrist seemed to tighten as she descended, and all about her the tunnel grew hotter and tighter until she could descend no further. Frowning, she looked down and saw that the tunnel was swiftly collapsing below her. But if Orvus had managed to force his way through (well, he was savagely stomped through, but force was used) she reasoned that there was nothing stopping her from doing the same. Clenching her fists and tensing her body, she slammed the tunnel’s walls lightly with her forearms and felt them reverberate in response. Using her feet to push herself upward where there was slightly more space for her to manoeuvre, she plunged downward head-first. The hair-torc had wrapped itself about her right fist like a molten glove and she punched downward with such force that the tunnel exploded wide open before her and she seemed to accelerate in her descent - the heat seemed only to inflame the hair further and quicken her, and even the dead strands on her head seemed to sigh with the echoes of a life that had suffused them not too long ago.

At last the goddess emerged on the moon’s far side, exploding from an already-formed crater and only adding to the deep scar that now marred the ugly old Ogre’s moon. It was only right that a one-eyed monstrosity such as the Ogre should have a moon with a gaping black maw like the one that sat gawking in the middle of his face! Now floating free in the endlessness of space, the fiery-haired goddess looked about for the one who had been faultlessly assaulted. Seeing nothing, she filled her lungs with… nothing, it was merely force of habit again, and called for him. ‘ORVYYYYYYY!’

Orvus heard something in the dark of space. A voice, and with it, his peace was shattered. His eyes snapped open, a small source of light. He looked about, curious and greatly annoyed to be disturbed so soon.

It didn’t take him long to find the culprit, his sister, Seihdhara. It only made sense to look in the direction of the moon. Where else would a voice come from? She was floating in his general direction, with speed no less and Orvus wondered why. For Seihdhara had spotted him and, bearing a great smile on her face, was speeding towards him with the residual power from her forceful descent through the moon.

Why would the Goddess of Martial Combat want anything to do with a being like him? Why had she flung herself down through the planet? Why had she called out his name?

So perplexed by this, Orvus said nothing but watched her. Her red hair, like a beacon in the dark sea of space. Bearing down on him at great speed, Seihdhara opened her arms wide and shouted a warning to Orvy before she slammed into him and wrapped her two great arms about him in just the kind of embrace Urhu had warned her against not moments before. ‘Gotcha Orvy!’ She cried with a slight giggle, ‘Are you ok? That was a long way down wasn’t it? That lumbering Cackler stepped on you! Are you hurt?’ Even as she spoke her hand felt his head and arms to see if he was whole and uninjured.

Orvus froze the moment she touched him, his body going completely rigged. His eyes went wide, expressing morbid horror. It was not the fact that another dared to touch him. No, it was far worse. He could not feel her. Seihdhara’s touch felt as empty as he. There was no warmth, no compassion, just a meaningless embrace. It was as if a ghost had grasped him.

He did not reply to her questions, instead, he touched her face slowly. The moment his fingers caressed her cheek (she shivered slightly at his touch), he knew the reverse to be true. Any physical contact he could make, and receive, would be devoid of affection, and it felt wrong. So wrong. Feeling that something was not quite right, Seihdhara frowned and tightened her grip about him. Looking into his shadowy face and eyes of blinding light, her eyes were full of questions. ‘Orvy. Tell me what’s wrong.’
More questions flooded into his mind like a monsoon. Panic gripped him, and he felt himself losing control. So he did the only thing he knew he could control. He shoved Seihdhara away from him. He did not, could not, be in her embrace any longer. Feeling that her touch discomforted him greatly, she let go as he pushed her away, but kept her eyes on him and raised her hands submissively. ‘Hey hey. Don’t worry, don’t panic. Just relax. Here, I won’t say anything.’ And she grew quiet and tried to allow what previous peace had existed to return.

His hands clenched into fists, the days confusion and repeated frustrations were beginning to take their toll upon Orvus. He turned away from Seihdhara, still without a word to be said. He needed to calm down, letting his rage overwhelm him again would be unsightly. He hated not being able to be in control of himself, but why was that? What did he have to lose when the rage surfaced? He hated them all, even her. His hands grasped the sides of his head, and he seemed to scream without a sound.

He shut his eyes, and let his thoughts play out before him. It was the helplessness of not being in control, of lashing out at everything that somehow made him fight to remain in control. It was such an odd circumstance. The one thing he felt most in this new existence, was to destroy. Not to create, but to destroy. So why was not being able to feel her so upsetting to him? Why? It only made sense the more he thought about it. She was of creation, he was not. Yet, what if he could feel? When the rage took over, he did not feel so empty.

And a dark thought crossed his mind.

Perhaps he could feel after all.

Orvus let his hands fall to his sides, they were trembling. His whole body began to tremble. His shadow began to coalesce just like before, his dim stars began to glow brighter.

Slowly he turned around to face Seihdhara, his sister. His eyes expressed a deep sadness, but he needed to feel. He had to try. Her eyes seemed to reflect his own, and she grew closer to him until there was little more than a handspan between them. And, in the language eyes only knew, she spoke.



He spoke for the second time in his existence between the closing space betwixt them.

_{”Forgive...me…”} he whispered in a shaky voice. The two brief words full of remorse. She cocked her head at his words and shrugged.
‘There’s nothing to forgive Orvy. Go on, let go. I can take it.’

He let the rage take over, and Orvus exploded. Spewing forth from his body, shadow and light mixed together to form his desolation. It eroded, it shattered, it bent creation to it’s one true purpose in existence. To End. To become DUST!

As he radiated such destruction, he forcefully grabbed Seihdhara by either arm and pressed his fingers into her flesh. She groaned but was otherwise silent, her emerald eyes burning defiantly even as she resisted lashing out. He needed to feel. And the desolation fell all about her and engulfed her, and her skin seemed to wilt and her already dead hairs shrivelled and lost all colour. And they became a rusty brown which faded into yellowness, and then even that disappeared and her hair became whiter than snow. But the living strand around her right wrist seemed to glow ever the brighter and screamed out, and it unravelled and revolved about her in a glowing flame-red whirlwind. And Seihdhara’s eyes shone green and living, and she set her jaw and gripped Orvus’ arms tightly.

He cared not for what he was actually causing Seihdhara to go through. He just needed to feel something!

Anything!

But he didn’t…

And for the briefest of moments Orvus was utterly defeated, and his Aura died out, causing a short reprieve for Seihdhara. His eyes spoke only of longing.

But his thoughts quickly turned further to rage and his aura exploded once more. He let go, and slapped her away from him. Seihdhara did not entirely notice the scornful gesture, focused as she was on the burning, living fires welling up in her gut and flowering everywhere within her as though spurred on rather than hindered by Orvus’ vacant aura.

If HE. Could not FEEL. Then HE. Would make HER. FEEL!

From his hands came forth a rock, and he forced it to grow, no longer thinking of what he was actually doing. And the rock grew larger still, growing jagged and cruel. He held it above him as it grew, still larger. At last, when it rivaled that of a mountain in size, he hardened the rock, making it dense and metallic. Finally, he looked to Seihdhara for a brief moment, his eyes expressing a profound hatred, and with a scream that seemed to rip apart reality, he flung it at her with speed and force.

The single living strand of flaming hair spun and whirled about the now waxen-haired goddess, and her glowing green eyes and furrowed brows told that the goddess well those passions knew that spoke of combat and the striking of flesh on flesh and stone on stone and steel on steel. And she was well-aware that behind her was the old Ogre’s moon and that on it were her siblings. Were this asteroid to strike the moon then the damage done to them would be… fury surged through her and the strand of hair spun and turned about her ever the faster till it had become a blur and seemed like nothing but a shifting red orb around her. Making directly for the asteroid she placed her hands upon it and, with an immense feat of strength that gushed forth from a part of her that held endless fiery flames, she forcefully pulled and heaved and redirected the asteroid away from the moon. She watched it go, relieved that she had spared her siblings the hurt that could have befallen them were that terrible thing to land on their place of entrance into this world. So it took her a few long moments to realise, with horror, that the asteroid was now heading directly for Galbar! ‘N-no…’ she moaned, her face contorting in horror and worry. She made to go after it, but her mobility was restricted in the emptiness of space and there was little she could do to catch up with the accelerating mountainous mass. She turned on Orvus with a fury.

‘Idiot! I said that I can take it, why are you targeting others?’ Fists clenched and her face knotted in a scowl, she sped towards him and, before he could respond in any way, struck an almighty punch right to where his gut should have been were he not smoke and shadow. ‘I’m here, boyo!’ >

The second the Asteroid had left his grasp, Orvus’ temper had abandoned him and he watched as the mountainous rock flew at his sister, with little care to be had. He was more concerned with the fact that he had created. He looked at his hands, for they were no longer shaking and his eyes were wide with disbelief. He looked back at the Asteroid, which Seihdhara had redirected towards Galbar. His first creation, gone towards a greater purpose.

He turned back around when Seihdhara addressed him as an idiot, and still said nothing. In a flash she was before him, and with an almighty punch, she made him feel physical pain. A first for him, and he clutched himself, taken aback by the blow. He looked at Seihdhara with a triumphant expression. Not only had he made her feel something, he had done what he thought inconceivable. He had born into existence the first asteroid, and with it, came the feeling of pain.

For the third time in his existence he spoke.

_{”Thank… You…”} He whispered. Her eyes softened immediately on hearing his faltering words and all anger left her. Tears glistened in her eyes and she looked at the asteroid heading for Galbar.
‘O… Orvy. I I can take it. You understand?’ She clenched a fist and raised it, the red torc around her fist glowing startlingly against the white dead hairs on her head. ‘Come to me when you need to… well, let go. It can be good - but you need to do it right, you know?’ She looked into his bright eyes, looking for a sign that he understood, that something had come of this.

Orvus listened to Seihdhara, saw how she clenched her first. She was still angry. Good, that meant she felt. But he also saw what he had done to her, her fiery hair now petrified white. He also felt regret. So he knew, what she asked of him would be difficult at best, for sometimes, it didn’t have to be done right. He would tell her what she wanted to hear. It was the least he could do.
He spoke softly again, his voice devoid of any emotion, _{”I… I’ll… Try…”} Seihdhara beamed, a small smile spreading across her lips. She opened her arms invitingly - this time she did not force the embrace upon him, but it was there for him to accept.

Orvus looked at her, with a dejected expression and at the open embrace that looked so warm. So inviting. It was not for him.

He turned away from her, and began to float away. She chuckled and let her arms drop and fiddled with her now white hair. The single living strand stroked at her nose and a pensiveness came about her. She would have to find a way to return her hair to life. And when it was back, Orvus would feel the warmth of her embrace.

Orvus watched the Asteroid as it went to meet its destiny, and he followed it. For his sphere called him, and the faintest bit of hope imaginable, Orvus knew what he had to create. To prove to them all, that he could be their equal. That he, could rise above them in every way. And as quickly as it came, the sliver of hope died just like that. For where Orvus went, Desolation would follow. Desolation, it seemed, and a stubbornly burning goddess. As Orvus made his slow way towards his sphere, Seihdhara floated after him. A single strand of burning hair extended between them, wrapped around Orvus’ ankle. The Crimson Goddess (crimson in spirit even if her hair had died) looked back towards the scarred but otherwise unharmed home of the Ogre, and she smiled. ‘Show some gratitude you ugly old Ogre!’ She cried, and her voice was followed by the sound of giggling and peals of joyous laughter.



--

After they bid the Goddess Phystene and God Kalmar farewell the two of them made their way to the crystal the Architect had set aside for Aelius. The God of Virtue had just started to outline his plan when the divine vehicle sped out of the Architect’s palace, streaking through the empty universe and arriving at the space that would be Aelius’s Sphere far too quickly for much to be said en route. There had been no rush once they’d arrived though, and in truth Asceal had been rather glad for the privacy such isolation offered. There were gods whose very existence concerned her, Melantha in particular, and being able to hear the details of Aelius’s proposal far from any eavesdroppers was a relief.

His explanation hadn’t been long, but once he’d spoken it she knew trusting Aelius had been no mistake. The idea was as elegant as it was simple. They would build their spheres on either side of Galbar, one marble, one crystal, and each equipped with a fragment of light itself. A Celestial Furnace, he’d called it, and from the moment the words had escaped her fellow’s lips she’d begun to consider how such a thing might be built, how she could bring forth and then confine an eternal spark.

In fact, she was still considering the problem even as a city grew around her. With little else to do, Aelius had long since left her to her ruminations and begun the construction of his marble city, Heliopolis. While she might normally have marveled at the complexity and grandeur of the Sphere being erected around her, for the moment her attentions belonged to the problem before her and nothing else.

At least, until she had a breakthrough. She gave a little cheer and flashed with excitement, light flooding Aelius’s dark city for the slimmest fraction of a second before she calmed herself. Asceal knew how it was to be done, and without delay she began crafting an luminous ethereal orb, a framework that could contain a source of light so potent even she would exhaust herself summoning it. It was a fiendishly complex working, and even when it was completed a way to focus its energy on Galbar would need to be found, but it was taking shape before her very eyes. She had done it.

Aelius wiped his brow and emerged from a newly-erected alleyway. He’d marvelled at his abilities as he channeled them, raising all manner of structures with just the strength of his will. The foundation and layout of Heliopolis had been established. The finer details could come later. He took the opportunity to check up on Asceal and see how her work was coming. When he found her, she was leaning over some object, bathed in an intense light. He stepped forward, shielding his eyes with a hand. He whistled in awe as he stopped at her side.

“I see you’ve been making progress,” he said.

“Hm?” Asceal looked up from her work and smiled brightly at Aelius’s question, “I have! It took some time to work out the specifics but I have it now, the framework is just about completed. I did it, a Celestial Furnace, like you said.”

Just then she took in her surroundings for the first time since she’d arrived, “It seems I was not the only one making progress, though.”

“That’s great,” Aelius said, peeking through his fingers, “but this is much too bright to keep out in the open all the time. We have to contain the Furnace and redirect its light towards Galbar. And out of my eyes!” Aelius spun on his heel and looked out across Heliopolis.

“I’ve an idea,” he said, and made down the marbled street with Asceal and her Furnace in tow. Eventually, the pair came to a massive plaza, clear of obstructions. “This is the center of Heliopolis,” he announced. “This is the perfect place. Now, stand back.”

The God of Virtue took a deep breath and threw up his hands. At once, the ground rumbled and from his feet a magnificent palace rose. It was arrayed with columns and golden domes and frescoes adorned the surface, exhibiting scenes that most likely represented Aelius’s ideals of virtue. He spun, grinning, and said, “Here is where the Furnace will reside! Bring it in.”

Asceal stopped for a moment to gawk at the palace Aelius had just erected, the man certainly liked gold, before shaking her head and positioning the nascent furnace where Aelius had directed her to. Once it was where he wanted it she took a second to prepare it for its true activation, for if Aelius thought it was bright now he hadn’t quite grasped what he’d directed her to construct.

“It only needs energy now, Aelius. Provide that and the Furnace will do the rest. Half of Galbar will be bathed in light and the lost souls that reside there will know what is to come,” She paused for a moment and ran a hand though her glowing hair in thought, “Though, I cannot say I know how you intend to focus its light.”

Aelius simply smiled and with a wave of his hand, a wall slid into place, sealing off the Furnace. Then, he ascended a set of winding stairs, waving at Asceal to follow him. The pair exited onto a rooftop walkway and before them was a golden dome, unadorned and simple, save for a small hole in the center through which Asceal could see the Furnace. “Take my hand,” Aelius said, beckoning her to the dome. Aelius pressed the palm of his free hand to the gap in the surface. Asceal hesitated, pursing her lips, but complied.

When the two were joined, Aelius closed his eyes and focused on the sphere on the other side of the dome. He imagined the light exploding outward, washing Galbar in it. He felt the warmth of Asceal’s hand - her godly energy - and with a shout, he poured his might through the gap. A wave of heat shot through his body and left through his palm, and his breath became labored.

Aelius let go of Asceal’s hand and motioned her back from the dome, then he took a step back himself. Where his hand had been was a fist-sized lens, and a brilliant ray of concentrated light shot from its glassy surface. Jubilant, Aelius looked up, following the ray’s arc towards Galbar.

She felt it, in a way no other being could, when the ray of light impacted Galbar and reflected off its rich oceans. Where once there was only cold darkness now there was light, a trillion trillion brilliant streams of light bouncing off Galbar and illuminating even the farthest reaches of the Architects creation. Her heart swelled with equal measures joy and pride.

This was her purpose, and it was nearly fulfilled. Better yet, the tasks second half was to be a mere simple repetition of the first, the hardest part was over. With a wide grin she took Aelius’s wrist in hand, as if to pull him to their next task, “Let us waste no time! Our job isn’t over, my sphere beckons to me, it desires the same light we have made here.”

“It will have it!” Aelius said. “But first-” He snapped and a wave of white light ebbed across the horizon, an alarm, for all intents and purposes. If anyone entered its circumference, he would know. He snapped again and gleaming chariot materialized before the pair. He helped Asceal into her seat and climbed beside her. He snapped the reins, and though it seemingly had no beast of burden, the chariot took off into the air, making for Asceal’s Sphere.

“A king without a throne.”

The voice echoed among the vast emptiness of void. It belonged to a tall figure who was notably pale, and dressed in very alien like- but fine gentlemanly clothes. On his face he wore a contemplative grin, like that of a Cheshire cat, its corners stretching up alongside his dark brooding eyes. As he thought the void shimmered and shook, his creation was being pulled from the hallows of his own mind and into reality. As he did, he heard the signature pop and cackles of creation in the far away infinite distance, as other Gods formed their own realms in this new primordial world.

A step. The Gentleman took a step forward, and as his did his foot landed on a flat stone formulated from nothing, another step and another stone. Rapidly other stones began to appear from nowhere, blinking in the darkness of the void. By time stones stopped appearing, the Gentleman was walking up a neatly laid pathway. An ethereal lawn sprouted on either side as the Gentleman strolled, with mossy fountains and bizarre statues of things not quite right erupting every so often from the ground. The entire scene was made of dreams, not quite physical but not quite mystical, stuck in a strange land between light and dark.

The pathway continued, stopping at a great bronze gate, faceted between mighty cobblestone walls. The gate was already aged reddish despite just being born, and the stones were dull and grey, shimmering when not looking at it directly, as if they weren’t really there. In fact, everything sort of disappeared in the peripheral, but when the eye darted to double check, there everything was as if it was always there.

The Gentleman’s smile somehow widened at his work, and the great gates screeched open before him so he may continue his stroll. Beyond the gates the lawn great somewhat more fantastical, with all sorts of strange flowers and bushes, some growing upside down, others inverted, and none quite right. At the end of the path was a row of steps, leading up to a massive double door of iron and wood. Great knockers were bolted to the door, but went unused as the presence of the Gentleman caused the doors to swing open unprovoked. The Gentleman’s stroll continued.

As he did, a wondrous hall materialized around him, matching his pace. Portraits of bizarre scenes and creatures hung on gaudily patterned walls, reliefs of strange languages molded the tops and bottoms of the hallway, and on either side great doors embedded themselves, each different than the last. Beyond each door, the Gentleman knew, hid a different scenario, a different dream. Each room was infinitely large as it was infinitely small, able to create anything possible, and anything impossible, such was the nature of dreams. The Gentleman’s smile bolded, knowing what entertainment he may seek there.

At last the Gentleman’s stroll stopped, having passed through a solid gold door at the end of the hallway, he now stood in a room. It was cavernous and shaped like a dome. Amazing shapes glittered the ceiling, and a void dark tile reflected it from the flood. At the center of the hollow room there was a raised dais, and atop that dais was a heavy throne of mahogany and gold. The Gentleman’s footsteps echoed loudly as he made his way to the dais, only softening as they reached a red carpet that spread over the dias. A few steps more and the Gentleman was at the throne. He sat, the wood curving to his back, and the floor hitting the soles of his feet at the perfect angle, it was his throne.

“A throne for the king,” the Gentleman said aloud, “a throne for K’nell, god of sleep.”

There was a silence, and slowly the Cheshire smile faded, at least as far as it could. He felt it once more, and his stomach rumbled. The joy of creation only entertained him for so long, only masked his existential truth for a moment. If he was to be well, he knew he would need to continue his masquerade with himself, and mask his purposelessness with creation and entertainment.

His eyes narrowed and with a strong THWACK he slammed his balled fists onto the armrests of his throne. Almost immediately there was a massive flash as the ethereal palace began to shimmer and pulse. It’s bricks were dreams, and it’s timbers were thoughts, fitting for the king of sleep.

“Anything can happen in a dream,” he thought out loud, his mind crafting a thought before his eyes. He saw the very Palace of dreams he sat in, it’s strange architecture ignoring the laws of reality, and it’s many halls and rooms filled with sleepers, those who may dream. His smile widened at the prospect, yes. An endless festival to keep him from remembering, an endless festival surely would give him more… more purpose? Perhaps.

He would need attendants. K’nell knew this foremost, knowing that he alone could not possibly host such a thing alone. His eyes darted upwards and the dream in front of him faded back into the background of the palace. K’nell’s gaze landed on the ceiling of the ballroom. Slowly etchings and murals began to scratch their way on the surface of the palace. The illuminations slowly formed and K’nells smile widened.

Made of the palace, made of dreams, his new creation suddenly plopped out of the ceiling and crashed onto the floor below. Slowly more and more fell to the ballroom floor, each landing with such a thud that it created a simple melody, until finally it stopped.

In front of the god stood a small host of creatures, non sentient but all willing. They were mere orbs made of K’nells own dreams and thoughts, much like the palace itself. Immediately K’nell felt a sickening kinship with them. He wasn’t sure why, but it disgusted him. Could it be perhaps, that these servants were to him as he was to his own creator? Existing simply to make dreams in his absence and upkeep the palace. With a dismissing wave of his hand the dreamweavers scattered, finding rooms to begin their creations and leaving K’nell with his thoughts.

K’nell’s smile faded as much as it could once more. What good are hosts and festivities without guests? Something in his gut told him the others may not be the best house guests, no, there must be another way to find guests. The palace emitted a wave of course, one powerful enough to lull all life on Galbar to eventually sleep, and just as K’nell would have it, this wave could be ridden by the sleeping, their destination: the palace and its many rooms, a dream for each guest. However there was a problem that K’nell recognized all too well: there was no one on Galbar. The gods eyes seemed to reflect disappointment, his grand plan that he had already formulated was so easily dismantled by this one key component.

K’nell looked forward, knowing something must be done about this…

Kalmar

---

Without another word, Kalmar climbed onto his crystal, and set off. He had made at least one valuable ally today, he was sure of it, and of the three conversations he had thus far, hers was the only one that had not been tedious.

He went down into the Chthonic region, feeling a pull towards his domain, his sphere. His own territory, all to himself, and whoever he chose to share it with. But he would not fall into a false sense of security. No, one day he would need to defend it. Even in this new universe, there will always be another being that feels compelled to take or destroy what others have.

And so he moved with determination. He would not let another being find a way into his sphere first.

---

Eventually, he arrived... to nothing. A vast blue void, of nothing.

Exactly as expected. It was his job to fill it, after all. And it was time to get it work. But...

He wasn't sure where to start. The Architect had given him some understanding of his role and his powers, so he knew how to use them, but the idea that he could forge entire landmasses or environments seemed so surreal that, for a moment, his confidence broke.

Then he pushed the feeling aside. It was doubt that caused prey to stand still while the hunters circled. He would not let doubt rule him.

Kalmar closed his eyes and concentrated, as he considered what to build. He would not do anything excessive, as his powers were not limitless and he may need to scrap his creation if he didn't like his first attempt. So he started out with a simple shape, a circle of rock, and willed it into being to float in the sky. Yet one could fall off such a circle, so he rimmed it with mountains to prevent such a hazard. If his sphere was to hold life, it would need water, so he conjured four rivers which flowed from the corner mountains into a small lake in the middle, and that lake had an even smaller island.

Though it now had water, it was still barren, and that had to change. It needed an ecosystem. So he imagined a forest, but before he willed it into existence, he stopped himself. Different beasts thrived in different climates. As the God of the Hunt, he should have multiple climates, for variety. Diversity is good, Phsytene had said - he agreed with her then and he agreed with her now. The rivers made natural borders, so he turned one quarter of of his world into a forest. The next quarter, he made a sandy desert. After that came a grassy land of fields and hills, before finally concluding with another forest, this one covered in a layer of snow. Each region was given suitable species to inhabit it.

And then he looked upon his creation, and his eyes widened as he fully realized the magnitude of what he just accomplished. It brought a whole new idea to the meaning of power. It didn't matter if you were stronger, or smarter, or faster... if you had the ability to shape entire worlds then few forces could stand against you. To his knowledge, only two dozen beings were capable of matching him.

It should have been thrilling, yet he also felt... disappointed. Where is the satisfaction in hunting prey that stands no chance? What was the purpose of hunting in the first place if you did not need to eat? How could he be a God of the Hunt if the mere state of being a god was enough to render hunting pointless?

No, he reminded himself, Your purpose is no longer just to hunt. It is to maintain the balance of hunting among the life you will create.

With renewed vigour, he decided it was time to add the finishing touches. He set himself down on the island in the middle and looked around. The mountains offered a sense of security, he realized. He did not wish for creatures to become too comfortable in a realm dedicated to hunting. How could he spice it up?

Then he had an idea.

Closing his eyes and concentrating again, he raised a small forest on the island, and in the center of that forest he built a structure out of wooden logs. He gave the structure two floors and multiple rooms. He was not certain what those rooms would be for, but he would work that out eventually. For now, the main structure was complete, and that was what mattered.

And it was no ordinary structure. The structure and the surrounding forest was a monument.

The effect was rather straightforward, but powerful. At random intervals, the ecosystems would shift. Snow became grassland, forest became snow, desert became forest, grassland became desert. Only the island's climate would remain the same. The intent was to make the inhabitants used to change; they could either move on to the next region, or dig in and adapt to the new ecosystem. Either way, it would prevent them from becoming complacent.

And now he was done, at least for the time being. His power had been drained, but he found himself filled with an immense feeling of pride.

---

Parvus
____

The Small God stood within the Maw. Bellowing gas fell upon him. A few lost spirits hung within the Maw, unable to move but otherwise unharmed. He thought back to his encounter at the Architect's abode and the strange sensation. Hopefully, the god of death would soon attend to his duties. For the time being, he could not worry about the work for another.

After three hours, Parvus was satisfied with his designs. After six hours, he had completed his task. Dirt gave way to empty air, as tunnels and caverns formed. In a few areas, the soil either hardened into stone or collapsed into sand. Small pockets of moisture expanded into small pools of stagnant water.

After a few moments, the Swarm Sovereign proceeded deeper into The Hive. He recognized that the sphere was shrouded in darkness. He was unphased by this. A few of his servants would require light.

He took residence within one of the cavernous rooms of The Hive. With one of his hands, a sphere of green energy formed. He pressed this energy against the pre-existing veins running throughout The Hive. Grass sprouted from the ground, painting it green. A few trees instantly emerged from the soil, including a solitary apple tree. He named this region, The Garden.

He redirected the energy of the sphere towards the rest of the Hive, and throughout the Hive tufts of grass, roots, and decaying plant matter formed. Blue, bioluminescent moss bloomed throughout the undergrowth, providing a small measure of light. The roof of The Garden was painted blue by the moss, mimicking a distant sky.

With his other hand, Parvus formed a needle composed of chitin. He took his make-shift weapon and stabbed into his other hand. The needle began to drink the life-giving energy and divine ichor, absorbing it into itself. Small bits of divine flesh clung unto the weapon, quickly rotting and forming a primordial venom.

He stepped outside of The Garden and stabbed his needle into a tunnel's wall. A dark purple stain formed around the region which he had struck. He named his weapon, The Chitin Stinger. It contained the power to poison the inanimate. The dirt wall began to crumble before the venom was carried away through the green veins. The poison was carried out through the realm of insects, with the sole exception of The Garden. As the poison passed through the green veins, they disappeared. Insects began to appear throughout the Hive, forming from the soil and granted life through the strange liquid stored within the Stinger.

The magnitude and variety of insects formed were great.

Parvus rested under the shade of his apple tree. There was no physiological reason to do so, although he did expand much of his divine energy. He needed to relax. He watched as ants begin to wander into The Garden. He granted himself a few moments to watch his small servants explore their new home. Even still, he could not help but to tightly grasp his Chitin Stinger.

---

---

The ride on the crystal had been short and uneventful. The former because her Sphere was apparently located right under the Barrier, and the latter because what could possibly happen this early on inside this empty universe? As she passed the boundaries that separated the Barrier and the rest of the universe, Melantha felt her connection to the Architect's Sphere being severely weakened. Extending her divine sense outwards, she probed the Barrier while speeding away from it due to the crystal, but found it unresponsive. "Getting outside is easy, getting inside is hard, huh?"

Brushing that thought aside, Melantha faced her destination once again. As the crystal whizzed through the darkness of space, Melantha scanned all the areas she passed by, making a mental map in her head using the different currents of energy permeating the universe as beacons for certain locations.

After some time, Melantha's crystal finally approached the boundary of her own Sphere, and she could instantly feel a faint string of essence connecting her with it. When she passed through the thin, liquid-like wall and into the Sphere, Melantha was greeted by a vast stretch of emptiness. At that moment, she realised that her Sphere did not have an actual core or a place from which its power originated. In a sense, the Architect had given her a clean slate to work with.

The crystal had stopped as it had reached its destination, but Melantha did not care about transportation anymore. With darkness enveloping her, she stepped off the platform and into the void, yet her eyes did not leave the crystal's surface. She willed it to rise up and closer to her face, examining it further. She prodded it with her senses, touched it and poked it with her fingers, even broke a piece off of it and bit into it to test its strength. Needless to say, her teeth cut through it like there was nothing there in the first place. Nevertheless, the Architect's power intrigued Melantha. The way he had so easily dispatched Seihdhara had left quite the impression on her.

"Hmm, maybe I should keep this around. Who knows, I might be able to find out a thing or two more about his powers..." Melantha clearly did not trust the information that the Architect gave out to the gods.

With that thought in mind, the goddess called upon her power and a black vortex of darkness emerged from the palm of her right hand, which she then brought forward to touch the crystal. The moment the strange rock made contact with Melantha's hand, it started getting absorbed inside it. It only took a few seconds for it to be completely devoured by her. When she finished, the black vortex dissipated and Melantha brought her hand closer to her face, smelling it.

It smelled like nothing, as one would expect. With a smirk, the dark goddess turned around and started flying deeper into her Sphere. There was much to do still.

---

---

"Honestly..." Melantha said with a sigh.

Traversing a Sphere turned out to be really bothersome, even if said Sphere was literally empty. Nevertheless, Melantha persevered until she had reached its very centre. "Let's see now..." Melantha whispered, and suddenly a ripple of darkness shot outward, with her being the origin. The ripple carried on for a while before decelerating to a stop some distance away, forming a ring of dark energy.

Then a pulse. Faint at first, but slowly getting stronger and more intense, this pulse slowly synchronised with Melantha's own divine pulse, her soul's very essence. Vein-like patterns emerged from within the dark goddess, pulsing with the same rhythm, the soft purple glow on them painting a very eerie scene. The veins quickly grew outward, branching off into millions of smaller segments that filled the entirety of the dark circle around her.

Melantha slowly opened her eyes, the previous glowing white colour having given way to two purple globes of fire that blazed with determination. She remembered the Architect's words, the scorn he had shown her and the other deities, and a feeling of intense anger suddenly welled up inside of her. Yet, even though she was alone with no one around to witness, she did not let the anger get to her head. No, she instead harnessed it, channelling it to fuel her imminent creation.

"Rise," the goddess ordered. A simple command, but one backed with such power that made the very void tremble. Then, from within the dark circle, a gigantic landmass slowly started rising, as if answering to Melantha's summons. Deep purple in appearance, the material the landmass was made off was based upon the crystal platform Melantha had absorbed, the same one that transported her to her Sphere. After absorbing it inside her, her essence broke it down and melted inside of it, changing it at a fundamental level. What was created as a result of this merger was a new type of material capable of absorbing and storing darkness energy inside of it. Following this, Melantha simply took this new material and duplicated it countless times before willing it to the shape of her choosing.

As the landmass rose further up, Melantha rose with it. First, the peaks of the mountains emerged, closely followed by the rest of the ridges. The hills came afterwards, with the valleys and the canyons emerging last. After everything was said and done, the dark goddess was standing at the top of the highest peak in this dark land. Gazing at her creation, Melantha let out the breath she had been holding in. Tiny beads of perspiration ran down her forehead and her long mane that had risen up due to her exercising her powers finally came back down once again.

"You shall be called... Norsvold."

---

---

Melantha sat under a peculiar rock formation, gazing from above at the valley that stretched before her eyes, ruminating about her creation. She closed her eyes, turning her attention inwards. Deep within her inner mind, she returned to the place she had once before visited, her spiritual sea. Pitch-black inky water stretched as far as they could see and dark clouds loomed above.

There, tucked away in a corner of this sea was a flame of darkness blazing. This flame was Melantha's essence flame, a byproduct of her divine essence coming into contact with her soul. Previously, her flame's colour had been a solid black, but now its core had taken on a purple hue. She could guess with confidence that the moment she created Norsvold, her connection to the Sphere was strengthened even more, binding her completely to it. She now had a feeling that, even if Norsvold were ever to be destroyed, although she would not die, she would definitely be severely weakened for a time.

Melantha's face scrunched up, unconsciously biting her lower lip, as she thought about this and the future complications it might bring to her plans. Be it due to anxiety, or simply being engrossed in her thoughts, Melantha did not immediately notice the bright point of light that had suddenly appeared in Norsvold's skies for an instant, before disappearing once more. She did, however, feel a sudden flunctuation of power ripple through her, accompanied by a feeling akin to suffocation. In a mix of confusion and annoyance, Melantha quickly exited her Sphere, only to be greeted by a glaring flash of light coming from below.

Shielding her eyes with a veil of darkness, Melantha finally realised what had exactly caused this sudden feeling inside of her; a beam of pure, unadulterated light shooting through the darkness of the void, its target clearly being the big, blue planet in the middle of the universe, Galbar. Like a knife stabbing through her heart, Melantha visibly trembled at the sight of this monstrosity. She could immediately deduce who had been the culprit for the creation of the beam: it could only be Asceal, the light goddess.

Melantha grit her teeth, anger welling up inside of her once more. She had a feeling since before leaving the Architect's Sphere that she and Asceal would never see eye to eye, but never in a million years did she think that that abomination of light would instantly go on the offensive. "If that's how you want it, that's how it will be..." Melantha murmured. With a flourish of her arms, she turned around and charged inside her Sphere once more. A couple of seconds passed before Melantha rushed out of her Sphere, darkness enveloping her body fully. Fierce waves rippled across the Sphere's liquid borders, but that was not the end. No, that was only the beginning, as after she shot out like that, a gigantic piece of rock broke the surface of the Sphere. After a few moments, the rock had completely emerged from the Sphere, its shape clearly that of a mountain peak.

The peak hovered in the void of the universe right outside of Melantha's Sphere. The goddess flew towards it before landing on a relatively flat surface. The sheer force of the landing dug Melantha's legs deep inside the rock, and she immediately started storing power inside of it. Then, she crossed her arms and looked straight at the location of the light's source. The mountain peak trembled once and a faint purple glow and black gas started being emitted from it as it started moving towards its target.

"Let's see now..."

---

---

With the other gods filtering out of the Architect's lake, Ashalla finally chose to heed her own advice. She flowed over to a relatively large floating crystal, gathered up as much water as she could and wrapped herself around it. As soon as she was secure the crystal accelerated out through the cavern's mouth and rocketed through space towards Galbar.

Behind her trailed a mist of water she from her form which left a faint streak of ice in the void, although it dispersed to invisibility rather rapidly. Ashalla noted this, that away from a source of water to replenish herself her form was subject to slow attrition. She found that with effort she could hold in the water to prevent it from escaping, but doing so was a strain. With her destination so quickly approaching, and the loss of water so little, it was hardly worth that extra effort.

Ahead of Ashalla loomed the world of Galbar, a Sphere covered almost entirely with water. The sheer volume of water was so much greater than that in the Architect's lake that Ashalla doubted for a brief moment whether she could harness it all. But with the crystal not slowing down, Ashalla had little time to contemplate. She braced herself as she and the crystal slammed into the atmosphere, although even when taking special effort to retain her form steam sheared off from her forwards side from the intense winds and compressive heating.

Moments later came splashdown, and Ashalla was once more connected with the water. She released the crystal as it sunk down into the depths and drifted in the ocean, dispersing outwards as she drank of its waters. It took her mere moments to recover the fraction of water she had lost from her voyage, but this was not enough for her. The ocean was so huge yet she was so small. This had to be rectified.

Ashalla extended her essence out further, subsuming more and more water into her currently submerged form. Spreading her essence across the ocean stretched it thin, but rather than making her weaker the smaller details simply became indistinct. Soon she had stretched to encompass an amount of ocean equivalent to the towering Narzhak in size. She kept going and spread out to be even greater than the Architect in scale. The ocean for kilometers in all directions became one with her, and Ashalla became the ocean. Stretched so much, Ashalla could only perceive the broadest of features, such as the slope of the sea bed and the currents and waves -- or rather lack thereof.

This was only a small part of the ocean, so Ashalla moved, the water flowing with her and waves rippling at her passage. She flowed around Galbar for some time, although how long was impossible to tell (since during these earliest voyages Asceal and Aelius were still constructing the Celestial Furnace so there was not yet any bodies in the sky to identify the passage of time). Ashalla found that the sea floor undulated in depth, and at some points where the ocean became shallow small rocky islands poked out of the water.

As Ashalla surveyed the great ocean, she found herself unsatisfied, despite her initial expectations that becoming one with this great body of water would be fulfilling. As she contemplated this, she realised that the reason she found this ocean unsatisfying was that it was empty and stagnant. There was nothing to occupy the water or to frame it and give it shape. There was nothing to make the waters move and behave besides her own movement. The ocean lacked creations! The ocean lacked power!

But Ashalla knew where she could find the power which would drive the oceans. There was more to this world than the ocean on the surface, for beneath there were many other Spheres, one of which she could claim as her own. This she knew instinctively. She just had to get to the Sphere.

In a deep part of the ocean, Ashalla gathered up her form and towered up above the water's surface. This mountain of water kept growing, Ashalla doggedly defying gravity's pull. Where before her form had simply been a natural part of the ocean, now she was coalescing it into something mighty and corporeal, a vast colossus of water at least as big as Narzhak. When Ashalla became as large as she could manage, two kilometers-high waves which might be called hands by those with particularly creative imaginations extended out then plunged towards the sea floor below. These two walls of water wedged themselves into the stone sea bed and pushed apart. For a few moments the earth resisted the titan's force, but then a crack snaked out from where she was pulling and the earth reluctantly yielded. The earth parted and Ashalla forced more of herself into the crack, extending the crack further and pushing titanic masses of stone outwards. Galbar trembled and quivered as Ashalla split open the planet, the rift extending for a thousand kilometres north and south of her. Water gushed past her to fill the vast trench, and she kept pushing to open it up wider and deeper. Soon Ashalla's form had sunk completely into the water so that she could continue pushing against the walls of the rift. It was only once the rift as about fifty kilometres wide at its widest that Ashalla let go.

Her essence contracted back to her original size, measurable in dozens of metres rather than kilometres, in a great sigh of relief. Sustaining such a vast form had taken an enormous expenditure of energy on her part, as had tearing open this rift in the bottom of Galbar's ocean. Ashalla relaxed for a time, feeling the waves of the ocean created by her upheaval slowly fading away. Recomposed, Ashalla descended into the Abyssal Rift.

While the bottom of the ocean had been dark and the water above heavy, this darkness and pressure only intensified as Ashalla got deeper. She was so deep that not a single photon of light would have reached her even if Aelius had pointed his Celestial Furnace directly into the rift. And the pressure was so great that the water was slightly yet perceptibly denser. No doubt even creatures designed to live in the ocean would be killed by such conditions, unless they were specially designed to live in these depths, but that did not worry Ashalla for this passage was not intended for mortal use.

The rift went deeper, so deep that it had left the Sphere of Galbar and was burrowing through the Chthonic Spheres to reach one far below, close to the very Core of the world. The journey was long, but Ashalla swam quickly, and soon she came out into a great water-filled cavern which extended in all directions further than Ashalla could reach, possibly wrapping around all of Galbar. Here was the Abyss, the home of the waters of the ocean and the deep. This was her domain.

Yet the waters were still. There was no power to make them move, for they were cold and lifeless. But Ashalla knew how to grant this power of life to the waters, and it involved exerting her divine power in a way she had not yet done. But it was a way she had seen hints of in Sartravius, the flaming one. Ashalla sunk to the floor of the vast chamber and applied power to the stone floor. The stone slowly heated to incandescence, filling the Abyss with a warm red glow. The water steamed and bubbled where it touched the floor, but the heat extended much deeper than the water could reach. Eventually, after applying heat for a long time, the floor of the Sphere melted and became magma, converting the lower half of the Sphere to molten rock. The great amount of thermal energy within the molten rock heated the water near the bottom of the Sphere, which rose up and mingled with the cold water at the top of the Sphere, driving vast convection currents. These great currents propagated up along the Abyssal Rift out into Galbar itself, and from that the oceans of Galbar began to move.

Ashalla left some of her divine impetus in the magma so that it would stay hot and moving. The water cooled the top of the magma, creating a thin skin of dark stone, but the currents in the magma below caused this layer to crack and sink back into the magma to be melted and replaced by a fresh layer. Sometime hot gases containing minerals liberated from the stone bubbled up from the cracks and rose to the top of the Abyss. Furthermore, at some points the energies powering the magma knotted together and the magma there ascended, igneous stone forming around the rising column of magma. These vertical magma flows were never stable and always collapsed down again, but they left intricate columns of stone. Ashalla was fascinated by these, amazed that an inanimate and unintelligent force could create something with some measure of detail and beauty.

After this toil and labour, Ashalla looked upon what she had created, and for now she was satisfied.