---

Galbar was a massive and ever-expanding place, with a new continent quite literally appearing and sending waves that would cover a jagged island momentarily. It annoyed Vakk how these gods were doing so much within a short span of time, or what he could assume anyways. He took to the sky to avoid any further annoyance, and to allow him to further think of the answer to the riddle that kept Vakk out of his refuge. Though, his thoughts were torn on the numerous ways he could torture Eurysthenes for the answer rather than actually doing anything else.

However, his mind cleared when he came across a gateway, a ring of marble spewing out clouds, one he had not known existed and from the power of a goddess he had not formally met. Vakk recognizes the power of Li’Kalla, apparently, the Architect has done some good by allowing the gods to instinctively know each other. A sinister smile crept upon his face once more as he crawled up to the gateway to the realm that lay with celestials.

It was a small entrance, but there was no place that could keep the likes of Vakk out, especially when he felt the need to commit himself. The Lord of Talk plunged his tendrils forth and began to crawl through the gateway, quickly moving with the ferocity of a war god. Soon, he arrived in the realm of the fragile and already broken goddess of Li’Kalla.

Past the thick plumes of clouds, past the steam that would burn the skin off of lesser beings, there was a lake. And where there was a Lake was ashore. Only a single presence could be felt in the newly created Sphere -- That of the Goddess of Rain. She was sitting on the shore with knees drawn up to her chest. She was resting her head on her knees and staring at the Lake.

Suddenly she tensed up and what had been a relaxing position became a defensive one. ”Ah-”

Soon the massive form of Vakk emerged from the water, the water coming off his body in large waves. It was there he was face to face with the likes of Li’Kalla, his head lowering to meet the goddess for a mere moment before he decided to raise it up once more and look down upon her. His smile was still there with his numerous, jagged teeth making his appearance all the more unsightly.

”Greetings, Li’Kalla.”

His words were simple, for the time being, as he sat there looking down upon the feeble form of the rain goddess.

Li’Kalla merely hid the lower half of her face behind her knees and stared back at the monstrous God with a barely visible frown on her face.

”H… Hello… Why are you, uh, here…? I didn’t invite anyone. Not that, uhm, I don’t… ” She pursed her lips. It was a small, submissive thing, her voice.

”I am here because I have yet to formally meet all of our brethren,” Vakk stated, taking a moment of how to best go about the situation and make Li’Kalla more susceptible to his suggestions. He came to a conclusion and his voice became softer, ”I am sorry if I have done something to upset you. I meant only to meet everyone I could. It does make me regretful if I have caused any damage to a delicate flower such as yourself.”

She looked away and shrugged, ”I-I’m not delicate. Damage... ”

He allowed a tendril to go forth to meet her, to offer her a hand to her feet. ”Then why do you hide behind yourself? I mean you no harm, Li’Kalla. I only wish to talk,” Vakk said gently, not being as urgent as he had been with the puzzle god.

Upon seeing the tendril approaching her a light came to her eyes and she perked up. Slowly, she lifted her hand… But at the last moment, her expression darkened and she retracted it, choosing instead to stand on her own.

She never once looked at Vakk’s face, and even as she stood, she covered herself coyly with her arms.

”Talk? Right… Words, yes?” She bit her lip for a moment, ”I’m not too good at talking, you know...”

”And yet you were talking just then, it is simple,” Vakk said, thinking to himself for just a moment and believing he knew how to get past her shyness. ”Tell me, what do you like to do? What allows you to go on true?” he asked lowering his head to meet her gaze, retracting his tendrils into the scalding water. He wanted her to speak to him so that he may begin to work his talk, seeing the use of having a goddess of rain on his side. It was a selfish act masked by the caring of the manipulator that the puzzle god had seen him for.

”Go on true?” Li’Kalla tilted her head, ”I’m not sure… All I remember clearly is-” And like that, she looked down at the ground.

”I remember some music, dancing… It feels like it all happened so long ago, and yet...” She shivered.

Vakk thought once more before his tendrils began to move through the air, weaving something together. It took him some time but Vakk soon produced a small box that could easily be held in two hands by the likes of Li’Kalla. It was a rather plain box with a symbol that held the likeness of its creator. The Lord of Talk gingerly presented it to the small goddess.

”This is yours,
See what lies indoors,”

He gestured for her to open it.

Li'Kalla shifted her gaze between the box and Vakk's face numerous times, her own face seeming to take on a mixture of fear, worry, and elation as the moments passed.

Finally, she settled on the box in front of her and, while taking it into her hands, spoke softly, “I don't deserve this, this is- This is too nice for someone like me.”

After inspecting the box, she set it on the ground in front of her and sat down, then she opened it carefully.

The moment the Li’Kalla opened the box, a melancholic melody began to flow through the air and while it was no extravagant piece of music, it made Vakk’s sinister smile grow all the wider. The box was an enchanted one, making those who hear it more receptive to his suggestions and allowing him more control. He would laugh, but he wanted to allow the music to take its hold over Li’Kalla before he did anything else. His head raised up once more as the music began to reach its mid.

”Do you like my gift?” He asked simply.

Li’Kalla’s face had been obscured by her hair as she leaned over the box, taking in the melody with her full attention. Upon hearing Vakk’s words break her reverie, she let out an almost inaudible gasp and straightened her back. In an instant, she shut the box and the melody, while it stopped, seemed to still hang in the air with an almost suffocating intensity. Finally, the Goddess sniffled quietly and grabbed the box, holding it close against her chest like a treasure.

”... Thank you,”

She seemed to want to say more, but in the end, she was distracted when she grimaced and held a hand against her temple. She grit her teeth.

In the blink of an eye, she’d dropped the Box. It rattled dangerously as she grunted and now used her remaining hand to try and hold her head together.

”Stop, no- That’s mine! Mine!” She was breathing hard. Her eyes, once she opened them, were wild and narrowed to a point. Her eyes were poisoned daggers, and they were pointed straight at Vakk.

In a frenzied movement, she dropped to her knees and desperately checked the Box for any damage.

”My dear Li’Kalla, what is wrong?” Vakk asked, feigning worry for how the goddess was acting. Truly, he was more amused about the effects the box was having upon her more than anything else. His monstrous neck craned over the goddess, casting a dark shadow over her as he too inspected the box, knowing full well that it was not.

”It would have been a shame if you had broken it so soon after its creation. Though, my worry lies more within you. Tell me, why did you stare so evilly at one who only tries to befriend thee?”

”L-Liar! Liar, liar, you are a liar! You are the one who broke it, Brother, not me! Not me… No, it wasn’t me...” Li’Kalla shook as she covered the box with her body, shielding the small item from the God of Words.

”Is that so? Yet, I was not the one holding it. But if you are resigned to believe such things, then very well.”

His head moved back over the lake as he stared down at rain goddess, this was truly interesting to him.

Li’Kalla had now pressed her forehead against the sand, her wild eyes staring at the sand while she covered her ears with her hands. Her form was becoming warped and distorted. For a few moments, it seemed like something wanted to sprout from her back, other times her skin turned slightly green.

It was a short while later that she remained completely still. Only for the stillness to be broken by a long, pained moan of defeat.

”Noooooo…”

She remained completely still after that, the only signs of life being the occasional sob and sniffle.

”Li’Kalla, I ask again; what is wrong?”

He allowed a tendril to move forward to poke the back of her head, wanting to see if she would respond even to that.

The only response Vakk got was her shying away from the tendril by a few centimeters at a time.

Vakk waited a few moments before he began to retreat back into the water, silently before his tendrils reached to grasp the sides and pull Vakk through.

”Until next time, dearest sister,
Until next time, listener.
Perhaps, I could talk more,
Perhaps, I could know your mind more.”

With those last words, Vakk truly departed the sphere to head back to Galbar, laughing to himself.

Not fast enough. The crystal had climbed up into the vacuous expanse between the palace and the world below - or above? - swiftly enough, but its flight had slowed dramatically shortly thereafter as it spun, gradually adjusting its trajectory in spite of the considerable mass standing on it. Narzhak watched in annoyance as the far smaller vessels that bore his siblings overtook him. He leaned upon the platform's edge in an attempt to hasten the process, but rapidly drew back when the entirety of it almost flipped over as a result. The oscillation delayed the process some further, and it was only owing to his erstwhile good humour that he was not fuming when he finally began to drift towards the distant watery orb at a more agreeable pace.

Light flared up behind him as he went, but it was soon overshadowed by a form that even he discerned to be large. The great rock sailed silently past him, through the skies and down into the world. Narzhak, however, did not see it strike, for a thought had struck him instead.

Now that is a fine way to travel. I should...

He stomped down upon his airborne perch, shaking it perilously. A sanguine light flared up within the crystal's form, and all of a sudden it was flying faster. Far faster. Faster even than the large rock; had it not already shattered against the waves, he would have overtaken it. Sparks flew around his feet, then flames engulfed the platform's nether side, trailing behind its edges every bit as bright as a comet's tail. The ground came ever closer, yet the godly meteor showed no sign of slowing. The motion was force in its purest form; if he but wished, he could shatter the entire globe in one blow-

The ground?

Narzhak peered down through the fiery curtain his vehicle was leaving behind itself. Indeed, where he could have sworn a few moments before had been nothing but boundless waters now lay a harsh, rocky land. His eyes widened in surprise, before shrinking again in savage resolve. There was no better solution for unexpected complications than overwhelming force.

"MAKE WAY!" With a howling bellow whose tail was lost in the roaring of fire and air, the second great projectile to mark Galbar's surface streaked down in a veritable pillar of light and crashed into the soil. The impact reverberated through the landmass, toppling rocks before engulfing them in a tide of dust ad debris, and leapt out into the ocean, raising immense, unnaturally spreading waves that churned and spluttered in monstrous whirlpools for miles beyond the coastlines. Vast cracks and fissures that could have swallowed a mountain radiated from the blow, splitting the ground into tatters that met only in unknown deeps.

Amidst the havoc he had wrought, Narzhak did not stop. Planted firmly upon the crystal, whose supernal matter had weathered the collision, he pressed ever downward, digging viciously into the groaning earth. Teeth of stone rose and crumbled around him, displaced by the implacable force. For an instant, all seemed still as the world and the god matched their wills and brawn against each other. Then the world gave way, and Narzhak plummeted down again, slicing through the ground as though it had been thin air. And perhaps it truly was; he could not be certain if he was indeed burrowing through yielding earth or some impalpable darkness that closed upon him from all sides. As long as he moved still, it did not matter.

Yet, even that movement came to an end, as all things must. He was now certain this was earth around him, for he could only move with great effort, feeling his limbs struggling against nigh-immovable weights.

It could only mean he was deep enough.

"Shatter." The bloody light flared up again, and in an eruption so deafening that it might well have been silent the crystal burst open. All was stillness, light and shadow; then Narzhak found himself standing in a chamber that stretched beyond even his divine sight. Somewhere far away, he could feel it but dimly, the fragments of his vehicle were digging through the immense cavern's walls, riddling it with innumerable passageways, great and small. Where they would reach was a mystery to him. But then, there were more pressing matters to attend to.

Narzhak splayed his fingers, cracking their stiffness after the long flight, stretched his arms, and, carving treads in the stone with his steps as he descended from the plateau he had alighted upon, set to work.

The ground was plain and easy to tread, and that did not please him. He dug his claws into the stone, opening pits, crevices and treacherous maws. He smote it with his fist, and basins awned open; and he marvelled as molten rock surged up from somewhere far beneath to fill them. He wrought tall hills and forbidding cliffs, and mountains like blades. Under his hand, pillars rose up as grim sentinels of his realm. Loose stones were gathered into towers and strongholds that no siege could breach; some he left unfinished, others he cracked open with the flick of a finger. His domain was that of ruin; a Pit of Trials that none but the mightiest could surpass.

The air was clear and easy to breathe, and that did not please him. He raised his hands, and the final sparks of the crystal’s eruption blazed up again in scorching flames that drifted overhead like birds of prey. Magma spouted from its lakes, rising in writhing orbs that hovered like unborn gods. He stomped down, and tremors coursed through the earth, never to fully fade again.

The land was barren, with nothing to beset a wary traveller, and this did not please him. His eyes flared, and through the iron he breathed out clouds of living anger. They settled down upon the soil, the mountains, the hovering orbs, and wherever they touched cruel life sprang up, deadly and invisible to the eye. Tunnels and caverns blossomed with dry, sooty growths that sickened the body. Dungeons were coated in deceptive lichens that corroded any who touched them. Worms with heads of iron gnawed their way through the rock, ready to burst to the surface and sink their daggerlike fangs into unsuspecting prey. Beasts with hides of hardy onyx stalked the wastes on spindly limbs, their frames little more than great mouths ringed with teeth. Strange drifting things hid among the clouds of fire and magma, uncaring of the heat, reaching down with hooked tendrils to snatch up those blinded by the infernal spectacle.

Narzhak saw his handiwork, and he was pleased. But one thing was still missing. It was to be the culmination of all his efforts, without which all would have been for naught.

He brought up his hands to the very spot whence he had shorn away a scrap of his armour, drove his fingers into the opening between two plates, and slowly, agonizingly pried them open. The flesh beneath barely looked like flesh at all - a murky grey mass, heaving and spluttering like a disturbed swamp. He reached in and tore out a chunk, oozing with dense black fluid and reeking of battlefields and manifold graves. With nary a wince, he snapped his iron skin back into shape. His hands danced around their prize as he gave it form.

Iron bone, torn flesh, hungry blood. The amorphous hulk hardened, grew lean, sinewy. An elongated, powerful body. Six strong limbs that bent and twisted every way, so that nothing could escape them. Fingers that were fine tools to craft, jagged claws to tear and tireless feet to walk, all together. A blunt, robust head with eyes no darkness could blind, a mouth to devour all things that lived, a neck that could follow any sight in all its angles. And within its plates of hardened grey skin, vitals so entrenched and fortified that no single blow could break them.

Narzhak lifted the fearsome, though yet lifeless form to his eyes, and breathed undying fury into it. It sprang up almost immediately, clawing and gnashing at the hand that held it. Its frenzy did not last long, for anon it was sailing through the air, flung away with a single smooth, careful motion. The thing writhed still as it struck the ground, spewing black blood to all sides. Far more blood than it should have contained. The dark flood grew, as a pond, a lake, a sea. Something stirred below its surface, sending ripples through the oily tide. A hand with jagged talons rose from it, then another, another, another. Hundreds, thousands of clutches grasped for air, followed by arms, then heads, then the horrors’ entire bodies. Each of them was its progenitor’s likeness. Some larger, others smaller; some walked on two legs, others on four, others on all six; and all of them were just as savage. The earth had scarcely dried up under the last one’s feet as they set upon each other, ripping, biting and striking, and ichor once again flowed in rivers.

The Iron God’s gaze shifted from a satisfied one, to surprised, to irritated. His offspring were a force for sure, but a force without cohesion was worthless.



The disorderly horde froze as one at the shattering peals of the voice from above. In silence, they hastily disentangled themselves from each other and crept in place to assume their positions in an unspoken order, barely daring lick their wounds with their long, tentacular black tongues.



The beasts shrank back, as if under the blow of an invisible lash.



Blank eyes turned to each other in uncertainty. The creatures glanced at their fellows, then at themselves; some began to point at those near them. Gradually, circles gathered around the largest of their number, who gestured vaguely at their newfound subordinates.

Not ideal, but this would have to do for now. Though Narzhak was loath to admit it, these exertions had left him feeling rather drained. He motioned dismissively at his host, and the beings scurried off to the nearest wall, crawling their way up to the cavern mouths with the agility of spiders.

The giant retraced his steps to the elevation he had first found himself standing on. With some effort, he climbed its side. One foot was on the edge, then another-

Narzhak clambered out of the crater his fall had left in the nameless land. The earth around him still bore the scars of his arrival, and it probably would forever. A scar on the world. Why not? Spiderwebs of fathomless rifts spread to all sides, interspersed with mounds of rubble. Some of the debris had never reached the ground again, and remained suspended in midair in a startlingly unnatural sight. Here and there, boulders glowed with residual sanguine light. Not bad for a beginning.

As he rose to his feet, something clattered upon his head. He looked up, but could not see anything out of place - the sunlight was still there, as was the blue of the sky.

With a monumental shrug, Narzhak trudged off to see what had become of the world, every step shaking the ground a little.

---

Ohannakeloi was thoroughly lost. While initially, it seemed like he may have managed to find something a short while ago, a way to the crystals perhaps, it became all too apparent that instead of some strange pillar it was instead the Goddess Seihdhara. She seemed to take it well enough although the whole matter had been fairly embarrassing, the affection had been rather nice, so there was that at least.

He tried to move along fairly quickly from there but he had to confess, keeping a watch on the others instead of where he was going did have a noticeable effect on the difficulty of the journey, not a positive one he had to add. When Shengshi had run into him it was quite fortuitous given he hadn’t the faintest idea where he was in relation. Ohannakeloi was grateful, although he didn’t voice it due to the other god’s seeming distraction from the event. It gave him direction, in addition to finally getting him to give up on watching the others so as to actually see where he was going.

Finally arriving was a bit of excitement, as these were no ordinary crystals, they were minerals and Ohannakeloi liked minerals a great deal. He hopped onto one, well more appropriately into one as he began shaping and reforming it as he was in the air. Ohannakeloi was at work as by the Architect’s will the crystal sped off to Galbar.

He took in the form of stone that now surrounded him and strengthened it, both better aligning the crystal’s form and turning it into something more than ordinary quartz it was before. It was quite wonderful, he could make it just the way he likes it, with a nice interior and all good proper stone. He had another problem however, he could see Galbar before him and he was getting closer, although not quite fast enough. He could see the work being done on and around, a continent, light searing, grand works being done without his involvement! How could he be what he was to be if he was not there to be it? Or do it…? Did that make sense? Perhaps not, but where was the fun in making sense when one could be making a world?!

Ohannakeloi resolved to give the crystal just a little push, infusing some more energy to get it more than just trundling along to the world and get there, really make it a vessel for getting where you need to go.

Hurtling through the atmosphere of Galbar was surprisingly pleasant all things considered. It didn’t really give you time to reflect or choose landing spots for that matter but it had a certain comfort in action and doing something at the very least. Ohannakeloi did find a nice spot to ‘land’, a small island in the northern bit of Galbar, he hadn’t really considered where the crystal was pointed when he gave it the ‘push’, so it was rather lucky not to be missing the planet by mistake.

He also figured that at the current rate there might not be much island left if his vehicle hit it, and Ohannakeloi didn’t want to divert the crystal into so much water, so far away from proper stone. So clearly the best solution was to move the bit of the island he would hit out of the way so he wouldn’t hit it right? Well, the next issue is that with islands and being connected to a planet and all there is a bit after that you hit unless you move it. And you have to find somewhere to put all that stone while you’re going forward and moving the next bit out of the way and on and on and on.

Ohannakeloi thought about this as he folded the stone around the crystal, accelerating was taking a while as not hitting anything meant only through the craft’s own power could he slow down, which was fine he still had a while to go and a whole lot of stone to see. The atmosphere had helped a little but not enough, besides he now had a destination in mind or more properly a place. A grand work of his own to add, even if others didn’t see it, he would know that he was doing right and that was enough for now.

---

Newborn eyes drunk deep of The Architect’s bounty, regarding his creations with an insidious amusement. Akin to the newly manifested entities from earlier, Ekon was too bestowed with a similar mandate. Christened the God of Fear, it was his duty to join the summoner’s other works below, where he would sow fright. Newly sculpted lips stretched outward, unveiling a row of daggers. Terror gripped his world before calamity claimed it, and it seemed fate saw fit to make him dread’s avatar. Even Ekon was surprised at how elated this new purpose made him. After all, excitement would be the last emotion most would feel at being the orchestrator of fear itself. Granted this was not the extent of his “job” just the part he found most appealing.

Further introspection of his newfound purpose ceased when Ekon beheld The Abhorrent One. Slithering hideously before him was Anzillu, a colossal thing made of squiggling parts all moving on their own. Thoughts once foreign to him blossomed into life with each gulp of stimuli, flooding the infant god with dark thoughts. The Bastard was a being whose very existence induced a crippling fear in lesser creatures. And for a god whose presence was to inspire horror, such an entity could be of use to him. With an arched brow, Ekon contemplated an alliance with The Bastard.

An observant god he watched in silent interest at the exchange between the little goddess and her gargantuan “sibling.” Unsurprisingly, she seemed disinterested in the interrogation from the machine-like monstrosity. Ekon couldn’t help, but find Anzillu’s method of communication, intriguing for it was so much unlike his own. In neither of the Fear God’s previous existences had he encountered such a creature. Direct, blunt, and, probing Anzillu was as “honest” as he was frightening, or at least as transparent as such a being could be.

After their brief “conversation” Li shrank away and hastily boarded her designated crystal. Within seconds she was, but a speck until completely vanishing from sight. Sensing his opportunity to approach Anzillu he made his move, knowing that such a God could be useful. Perhaps he could see a mutual benefit in their association. Ekon was at least confident that he wouldn’t have to be quite as worried about treachery from someone as seemingly upfront.

Bare feet carried Ekon to the squirming mass of tentacles. The Demon God’s sheer girth could not be truly appreciated until he was directly before him. It towered over the youngster like some great tree of worms. In the past, he might have been terrified to converse with such a being, or even remain within its presence. However, he was an entirely different existence now, an amalgam of lunatics, victims, and, monsters all his own. Fear was not what he felt in that instance, but excitement.

“Might I intrude upon your time for just a minute? Because I think we could be of benefit to one another.” His said with a smirk.

THE ABHORRENT shifted its obsidian eye towards the source of the inquiry, only twisting what could be called its neck 180 degrees and bending it at right angle to better regard the newborn entity. He was a small thing, not as lean as the reed-like market divine but much larger then the decrepit rain deity.

"–Benefit? Fear-entity, Ekon. Current application minimal. Minor instances viable. Likely, Ekon's profit outweigh ABHORRENT's. Overture?"–

“Mortals overwhelmed by fear and desperation are useful to you, no?”

He simply ignored the bastard’s estimation of his worth. He knew swaying the great and awful thing wouldn’t be easy. Ekon’s head fell slightly to his right side, as the god’s eyes focused on the palm of his left hand. An image of a cowering humanoid silhouette arose from nothingness within the center of the young god’s hand.

Anzillu regarded the cowering form of a mortal with apathy. Mass hysteria was easily created, divine interference was less then necessary. But the bastard humored the little thing.

–“Affimative. Once again, minor instances.-“

“Oh well, the offers still there. If you ever require my services just let me know. I would stay, but I have monstrosities of my own to create. Until we meet again, worm man.”

An open hand clenched into a fist crushing the manifestation within. Galbar and by extension pandemonium awaited the infant god. If not, then his association with Anzillu would come in time. Upon bare feet, Ekon’s form traveled to his crystal before speeding away in the blink of an eye.

---

The cacophony of futile threats, boisterous personalities and ineffectual prattling went on intensely observed under the guise of acute passivity by the bastard god for a moment longer after the shade left. All knowledge was of use to it, ideologies, flaws, idiocracies, relationships, divides, all would prove useful in due time. Yet the ABOMINATION soon grew weary of the affairs of newborn deities. With unyielding intensity, it looked passed the oceanic entity's commination and instead regarded the limpid crystal vehicles many divines mounted and departed on. The yearning within THE ABHORRENT flared for a moment, turning purpose into action.

Without warning, the bastard became like liquid, stretching its massive body up and onto a crystal in one fell swoop, as if its mass were utterly boneless. Seemingly in tandem, the crystal jettisoned off into empty space, making a meteoric decent towards Galbar. With every passing second the surface grew nearer and the unblinking eye of THE ABHORRENT calculated. Sphere location was likely subterranean by transports' trajectory and current speed. Impossible was it that location was prepared for demonic manifestation and execution of primary objective. For best results, previous infestation iterations were to be utilized.

Empty space became saline and saline became galbar, crumbling under the force of the crystals impact before a void yawned into existence. Into the abyss, THE ABHORRENT went, instantly aware of its purpose to it in the grand scheme of the Architect. Primary base of operations, secondary objective was to be carried out from this place. Essential to universal functions, as was sister spheres. Anzillu regarded these facts for a moment. Current reality split far from the tropes of mainline realities. Likely this was a backwater universe, far removed from mainline existences, similar to Original Reality. Inconsequential was its place in the grand scheme, but intriguing nonetheless to it.

Within the sphere center, Anzillu resided, its obsidian eye absorbing its surroundings with scalding scrutiny, every crevice, crack, stalagmite and stalactite, was accounted for and documented within the confines of its mind. Previous infestation iteration blueprints where regarded, all were palatable, yet manifestation equations proved to yield lackluster results within the new reality’s system.

-“Re-evaluation vital.”- it murmured in the First Tongue.

It paused for a moment, so quickly had to acclimated to the use of current reality’s divine tongue. Nauseating it was the ears of the DEMON, yet invaluable it would be in god-type communication.

–“F̵̖́̂͜ŕ̴͕̀͗ó̴̢̤͕̔b̸̛̝̫͙̎̾͛ t̶͕͎̩̐͗̏̾ ć̸̪̤̻̼̜͐͌͝a̸͕͎͠ ̶̮͍̓̍͜y̸͍͙̥̘̒̄͋͝͝ͅȃ̸̞͓̲̭͕r̴͙̭̜̝̱͒̿̃̆.”– it repeated, this time in the mother tongue, the vernacular anathema to all-things sane.

Appendages bullwhipped into action, striking at the fabric of existence and lacerating it. Angry lines seething with unknowable potential seered itself into reality, growing larger as angry line and angry curve interconnected with one another in two dimensional space until the fury of flesh and fire came to an immediate halt. Tens of thousands of algorithms were sawed into the air, each an attempt to solve the manifestation equation it so desperately needed in order to preform the Primary Objective. Finally, a solution to the equation blazed the brightest within the scarl of foreign lettering and glyphs.

-“D̵̤̈́̉amṁ̷͙̞̺͗̊͆ǐ̷̢̯̖͍̒͒́q̴͎̹̻̣͖̍͛̕“- it purred.

Anzillu shifted its mass, hundreds of tendrils aggregating at a single point before its great pupil. Wrought from the flesh of its soul, divine energy warped nature at the center of concentration, construing according to the blueprints Anzillu formulated. Polymer and plasma membrane layering, protein synthesizers, motion apparatus, genetic transmitor, and finally the system motherboard. As was with all systems this one followed a set of algorithms and protocols, all stored within a helix of proteins. With its middle-finger the ABHORRENT branded an extra line of code to the matrix, its divine will wrought in the languange of an ancient. The final piece was all the organism needed, a means to feed.

Almost immediately the thing began to multiply, one became two, two became four, four became eight, eight became sixteen and so on until in the span of a minute in the eye of the god but possibly days to any mortal, a billion billion consumed the sphere entirely in a sea of glowing purple. Oxygen did not exist in the reality, for it became fuel for the spawn. Galbar was forfit, as the organisms feasted upon the earth without let up, multiplying into cracks and crevasses and expanding, consuming everything and anything, just as it’s creator.

Satisfactory.

As Parvus was exploring the jungles of the Eye of Desolation, he sensed another god flying overhead. With a simple wave, he announced his presence to flying deity.

The response he got was less subdued, the bird calling down from on high ”Parvus! It’s so good to see you. There is a clearing just too your north that I think it would be a lovely place to chat, if you have the time that is?”

Parvus bowed slightly, ”I always have time for my fellow gods.” easily following her into the clearing.

Azura settled herself down at one end of the area, talons hidden beneath her as her feathers fluffed against the ground, her large frame taking up a great deal of the gap in the tree line. Her radiant feathers banished away any shadows in the area, filling the clearing instead with an soft ever present light.

”I haven’t seen anyone else since I left the architect’s throne, only their work so it is good to finally cross paths with another. Has Galbar been treating you well?”

Parvus paused for a moment, ”Right now it seems as though Galbar is simply a wet rock with only this jungle to adore it. he said, sighing a bit.

”Oh?” she sounded a touch disappointed at that ”I had hoped the world beyond might have grown while I had been busying away here. Are the others more interested in throwing stones around than they are in creating?”

”I have not had time to explore the rest of this planet. I have been fairly busy as of late. However, does it not seem counterproductive to create lush forests, only for them to be washed away by giant waves. Image if this forest was created before that meteorite had landed, and not after. That would be a shame.” Parvus said, sighing again.

”Ah I see” she perked up a little at the first part only to return to a more dour disposition at hearing the remainder. ”I suppose that is true, such haste may have been foolish. I should add that I did not make this garden but I have invested into seeing it spread. Still, it now is the time creation is it not, rather than a time of destruction? If not now then when? Should we sit idle as we wait for those with destructive urges to tire themselves out, or do we soldier on, knowing the risks and building a world in such a way that it can survive beyond one mere cataclysm?”

Parvus paused, and then smirked, ”You are correct. But I believe I should advise caution. Is it not wasteful and cruel to leave your creations at the mercy of the destructive gods, only to replace them if they perish? Perhaps we could alleviate the symptoms of the destructive gods, in order to prevent a cataclysm. Reefs that break giant waves, a strong atmosphere to shield from things which fall from the celestial heavens, and so on. Do you have any suggestions?”

”You sound like someone running a census.” She responded jovially, her spirits lifted by the knowledge that at least one other god was concerned about the threats facing their shared world. ”But as for suggestions...” she paused for a moment to consider. ”The meteor passed through my sphere on the way here, and all things approaching the day side of Galbar have a good chance of passing though. I am not sure of the specifics at the moment, but it is well positioned to act as a shield of some kind. Perhaps to blow attacks from above off course?” she sounded rather uncertain about all of this. ”Perhaps a better place to start is to simply find out who is a danger and why? I may be being a tad optimistic, but I am unaware of any other incidents other than the one we now stand on, so perhaps we can all, together, prevent further devastation by coming to an accord with one-another” she finished, ignorant of so many of the events that had taken place while she had been fixated on the Eye.

”I simply value the considerations of my fellow gods. I believe it would be quite noble in order to use your barrier as a shield to protect life on Galbar. However. he said, pausing and taking on a more serious tone, ”If you confront another god about this, and they still wish to endanger life on Galbar, will you be willing to impose yourself on them with force. That is quite a serious, and dangerous course of action.”

”I...” her gaze darted briefly to his side, where a spike of chitin rested as if it were a sheathed blade. Though she may have been incorrect in identifying the implement, she nonetheless made assumptions about what she thought Paravu’s own answer would be, and it made her nervous. ”am unsure” she finally responded weakly.

Parvus looked down, and grimaced for just a moment before returning to normal and turning back to face the wind god, ”Have you ever seen a war between gods before? It is a terrible thing. And something I wish to avoid if all possible. And it only takes a single spark in order to start a fire.” he said, in a calm, tense voice.

There was a stirring of a memory deep within the goddess soul at the thought of such a conflict, one that had been smothered by eons in the void. It failed to surface, falling apart as it did so but it managed to impart two emotions upon her. One was dread, one that matched the emotion Parvus had attempted to invoke. The other was a hard won confidence and that terrified her. This all mixed with the guilt she felt from the knowledge that a divine war might well be inevitable, because there were chains that she needed to break. Azura knew she would not be able to distract herself from the fact of their existence forever. ”Such a conflict would be horrifying” see said with the utmost sincerity, her words melancholy and giving little to no indication to the complex emotional turmoil that had gripped the normally cheerful goddess.

Parvus paused, and seemingly had to force the words out his throats, contrary to normal his voice was quiet and shaking, ”Have you ever heard the screams of a dying god?. Parvus composed himself afterwards, ”I apologize, I should have never asked such a morbid question. I am unsure what came over me. It seems as though I am making habit of speaking of morbid things, however some things require discussion regardless of how uncomfortable they are.

”If I have then I count the erasing of my memory of what came before the void as a blessing.” she responded, gazing east at the setting sun for a moment before returning her focus to Parvus. ”You were right to bring up such dismal possibilities. We are so many who have all been given such power and yet we know so little about one another's intentions. This discussion may have been painful, but it is good to know that we both agree on one thing. That we should not fight lest we bring this fragile reality to ruin.”

Parvus paused, and pointed a random tree ”Allow me to ask you a question, how much do you care about that one tree? This jungle? The concept of nature? You are right. Actions have consequences, which sometimes not even gods can foresee.”

She cocked her head at this line of inquiry, unsure as to where it would lead and a little concerned that her declaration had been wet with a question rather than agreement. ”Enough to want them to be free to exist without unavoidable annihilation being forced upon them. Perhaps that applies more to creatures than to trees, but the principle remains. I value freedom Parvus and can anyone be said to be free if at any moment they might be wiped of the face of Galbar along with anyone else in thousand kilometer radius? Also frankly as a god I don’t see myself as a great source of foresight, though perhaps that is because I have stayed close to the ground for too long. How about you. What do you care about?”

”I care about Galbar, its life, and it's life’s future. It is why I asked my question, in order to encourage you to act with wisdom, lest you be the problem which you are trying to solve. It can be counter-intuitive, but tell me, where you free within the great nothingness between words, unconstrained by anything? Not even constrained by physical laws? Parvus said.

”Where we unconstrained? I don’t remember much about it other than the fact that once the possibility to escape came I leapt at it. I think I see what you mean though, that it is unwise to mollycoddle life, that to be completely free of the influence of outside forces is to be trapped inside an sterile unchanging cell. Still, there are levels to these things. This very conversation is us in effect thrusting sentences at each other, creating unexpected circumstances in the process and yet that is very different from thrusting swords at one another in anger. Adversity makes life interesting, but too much of it, particularly when it is routinely or strongly forced upon us rather than sought out, simply brings life to a sorry end.”

While not the point he was attempting to get across, he did not allow that to show, and merely nodded along, ”Yes. Of course. Moderation is important. I am glad we agree on this.

Azura made a disgruntled sound before responding. ”I feel like I’ve stumbled somewhere here. Perhaps it might be easier if you simply explain your intent with these questions rather than continuing this cavalcade of queries?”

Parvus merely smirked, ”I don’t have any more questions. As for my intention, I am merely trying to better understand where you stand on important issues, and to give you guidance.

”Right” Azura said, finally realizing that she was being manipulated, though to what end she was unsure. Certainly Parvus had learned a lot more about her than she had about him. She resisted the, incredibly weak, temptation she had to simply eat the little bug as her Emerald Keas did. Then she sighed and concluded ”Well I hope this conversation has been enlightening for you because frankly it has left me in the dark”

As if to drive home this point the sun exploded. Or rather a new sun formed in the west, briefly banishing the evening sky and covering the whole sky with the Blue for a fraction of second before it shattered into a million pieces. At this Azura cold only stare.

”That. Is not good.” she said said flatly, the shock numbing her to the sheer scope of what had just occurred.

His mind and vision were engulfed by madness. A ringing reverberated incessantly from all around; there were dancing flames within that strange place just beyond the corner of his sight, but even so there were sharp lances of icy pain that pierced his mind, and there was a familiar scent that conjured hazy memories of panic and terror. Some overpowering blunt force had struck his mind and shattered it like glass, and now there were only shattered memories left swirling about in the schism that remained. All of the trauma and the pain was still there, but now it was oppressive and omnipresent.



Katharsos blinked sharply, and just like that, he reclaimed his lucidity and was suddenly made aware of his surroundings.

---

The concussive pain and the strange sensations that had wracked his mind until that moment hadn't left him. No, they had only grown worse. With his stupor broken, the garbled and distant ringing was now accentuated by the vivid screaming and wailing of too many souls to count. They voices of billions of lost souls in varous states of agony mixed together into a maddening cacophony, and there was no escaping from it--at least, not for him. He heard them all. He sensed their collective misery and pain so acutely that it was as a burden upon him, too.

There were other things, too. Something was inside of him. He felt it, the foreign object, inside the fiery prison that was his mouth. The scintillated light of a strange crystal shone through gaps in his teeth, reflecting brazen glow of his own body (a massive, detached head made of writhing flames, he realized!) as it propelled him onward. At first he felt bewildered, but understanding came within the span of a few instants--he had been summoned here by a great Enlightened Being alongside many others. But whilst those others were still manifesting or bickering or coming to grips with their reality, Katharsos had been so driven by his instinct and his purpose that he had leaped onto his awaiting crystal and left the Architect's palace before he had even truly become cognizant of what he was doing.

What was he doing?

Saving the spirits, of course. The souls were his to watch after. He swore an oath!

When? What oath?

His reverie ended as he rocketed past a wailing collection of spirits. Immediately he wrenched his head around with enough force to shift the crystal such that it began carrying him to the left, and then back around to circle towards the stray souls. But when he looked out to where they had been, they were all gone!

He summoned even more of his strength to twist his head farther around, and upon wheeled all the way back the spirits came into his vision once more. They were right behind him, being swept along in his wake. Of course they were. He was a shepherd of souls, and any such spirits in his vicinity could be made to go where he directed them. That would make this long task easier.

He soared back and forth through the cold and dark depths of space, collecting a dozen souls here, one or two stray ones there, sometimes great groups of a few thousand all huddles together as if for warmth. He could hardly blink without gathering another one or two, but still, there were so many that awaited his call. And these were just those that remained adrift in the cold of these upper Spheres; there were untold millions cast into all other far corners of the universe as a result of the diaspora caused by the Great One's careless expulsion of all the lesser souls.

Katharsos looked down to the blue jewel below, a place that he instinctively knew to be the most perfect and balanced of all Spheres. seat of this universe's future, the inevitable origin of mortal life--Galbar. It looked even more beautiful in the light. The God of Death turned his gaze to observe the distant sight of Heliopolis' blinding radiance. Already the other gods were making progress with their works. Soon they would have need for souls if they were to create any forms of life to populate and glorify the world, yet all of these souls he gathered were broken.

_{"Ahahaha, ahahahaha!"}

From the great throngs of wailing dead that were swept along by the warmth of his wake, Katharsos witnessed with crystalline clarity the apparition of a single man that laughed maniacally, chanting strange and unknowable words between cackles as he lashed out at all behind him.



There in the crowd were all manner of ruined forms. Spectral reflections of beast, men, and things altogether alien were all congregated before him. There were some that remembered what they had been, and warped their appearance to take on such favored forms. Others appeared as they had when they succumbed to death. There were some with horrific wounds that still seeped ethereal blood; perhaps they were warriors who fought and died in a place so distant and far into the past that it was may as well have just been the stuff of fevered dreams.

_{"Ask the great bright One! He'll know,"} he heard one childlike voice whisper among the deafening tumult.

"W̴i̴l̸l̶ ̸m̵y̷ ̶h̶e̸a̴d̶ ̴g̴r̵o̸w̷ ̶b̷a̵c̷k̵?̵S̶̼̤͗õ̵̞̱̫m̴̩̲̍͂̑ȇ̸̘t̶̞͖̽̓h̶̡̫͛ị̴̼̝̄́͠n̴̲͕̆ǵ̵̠͕̥̒ ṙ̸͍̺̩͉͚͙͖̖̱͔͉̜͉̈͂̒̈́͊̈́̆̃̋͑̽̈́̅͘i̸̡̡͖̯͕̤̫̯̗̮͕̳͙͍̔̈͒́͘͜͜͜p̴̨͇̻̦̝̗̻̯̜̼̤͐͌̑͊̾̌̅̈̇̇̿̊͜p̸̘̝̖͈͇̻̥͎͓̖̳̪͓͐̈́̎̄̀͗̈̽͗͠e̶̦̠̫̲͔͇̲̹͍̜̺̰͠ͅd̸̢̦̻̮́̂̂̇̊̃͒̅͘͝͝ ̸̞͐͂͠ȉ̶̘̰̱t̴̟̚ ̵͇̽ȍ̷͉͝f̵̢̧̳̅̋f̵̯̭̒̿!"

Katharsos looked upon the speaker, the revolting husk of a girl that had been gnawed at and twisted by the terrible Things in the Beyond. The expression of his eyes flickered with the faint light of horror, and the crimson flames of his head withered and became a sickly yellow. He wept a single tear of ash, and then finally addressed the souls.

"I was once a great healer," he found himself saying. "My old memories are...returning. I know what can be done for you, what must be done to one day make you whole again...please, step into my light."

The fury of the fires within him swelled until it became so great that it cracked the crystal inside his maw. Odd astral fires, cold to the touch, raged and consumed the inanimate crystal. Katharsos opened his mouth and a great glowing ember of light came forth. Though she had no head and no face, the girl's spirit seemed to smile as it advanced to the front of the crowd. She was the first to lay a hand upon the golden orb.

"Ő̵͈̒͜h̵͈͐̏,̸̼̉̃"i̵̠͛͠t̴̡̝̮̿ ̸̗͉̳͐͝ͅf̶̙͗e̶̛͍̟̿́̊e̴̓ͅl̵͉̮͊s̴̰̍...w̴͙̟̘̎̽̏̕ͅa̴̹͉̓̎͒̐̊r̷͍̰͎̟̳̫̖̕m̸̌͂͂̔̉̕͠ͅ!

A sepulchral tide swept forward as other lost souls rushed closer in an attempt to bask in its warmth. And then there was a flash, and suddenly there was all aflame. A massive inferno roared to life and engulfed them all in its dull light. Some struggled for a few moments, but then the astral fires began to eat at their memories, and their struggled ended. They squirmed like insects caught in a spider's web, shaking in cathartic spasms as they relived every flaming memory. Great plumes of sickly smoke billowed forth into the cold expanse of space as a byproduct of the burning souls, along with countless tiny flakes of near-invisible ash. The smoke was a noxious thing anathema to life--the very quintessence of death. So the god breathed deeply and drew it all about him lest it pollute the world. But the ash was just the opposite, being the metaphorical clay from which new life and new souls would be formed. To watch it drift down to Galbar and away into the other Spheres almost made Katharsos feel solace.

Almost.

He didn't know how many millions of souls he'd just condemned to oblivion. While the other gods feuded or played, sculpted or philosophized, Katharsos was alone in space left to dig graves and build pyres. He envied all the others--for who among them could ever claim to bear a burden as heavy as his?--but begrudged them not. Someone had to do this; it was the only way. Those souls had been so weathered and corrupted that they were far beyond the ability of his warm flames to ever heal, if indeed he still possessed such a potential to heal. But they were not beyond the capacity of his otherworldly fires to purify.

He let out a long and drawn out sigh, somehow oblivious to the faroff explosion of a Solar Furnace, the upheaval of entire continents on Galbar, the Architect's never-ending stare...he only saw the billions of souls that remained for him to gather and recycle. It was not feasible to fly about the cosmos gathering them all and herd them together to set aflame. He needed a more permanent solution, so he claimed the empty Sphere that he drifted through. It was a dark and cold and distant and abandoned one; only Melantha's equally gloomy lair seemed nearby. As none of his immortal peers wanted to occupy such a plane, it seemed a fine place for Death to lurk and do its work in serene quiet.

Over the course of some meaningless time that might have been mere hours or countless decades, Katharsos assembled a thousand great firepits. They sat suspended everywhere in his Sphere, wrapped all the way around the Galbar's plane of view and scattered across the night sky. At the heart of every pyre was a singular tiny ember. The embers themselves glowed far too dimly to be seen from below, but the blinding light of the gigantic conflagrations came closer than anything else to rival the brilliance of Asceal's own solar furnaces. It was only their great distance from the other Spheres, as well as the hazy smoke of death that was growing to shroud the entire Sky of Pyres, that obscured and dimmed them to the point that from Galbar's surface they appeared as nothing but distant stars.

And distant they were, but not so distant that their pull could be resisted! Unseen by the living or those that knew not to look, Katharsos had been softly stirring the fabric of the Spheres themselves. From what had started as soft ripples there had grown a great maelstrom that extended all the way from the Sky of Pyres down to the surface of Galbar, and then its pull reached through the other gateways to reach even farther. Slowly, but surely, stray souls were being gathered up in that maelstrom and swept into the clutches of Death. A thousand more of them arrived every instant, but Katharsos had pyres enough for all.

After setting aflame some odd billionth soul, he no longer felt quite so emotional about it (inwardly or outwardly) as he had the first time. There were hardly any more tears of ash that fell from his burning eyes as he witnessed the memories of the dead transform into nothingness. There was already plenty of ash raining down, after all.

Dry heat blasted Aelius’ face, forcing his eyes to jump open. Immediately his gaze locked on the cold piece of metal he held tightly in his hands. It was a sword, sharp and built with a chisel edge. Its taper was from point to hilt, giving it a heavy, flat top. He knew at once what such a device was used for: execution. His knuckles whitened as his grip tightened and his eyes finally tore from his killing tool and set upon the rest of the scene.

He stood under a blood red sky, blank and empty, save for a swirling black pupil that stared down at him, like a black sun. Underfoot there was no water, no moisture, just lifeless earth, hardened and cracked from neglect. These flatlands of nothing stretched all the way to the bloody horizon, he stood in an infinite land of waste.

Circling his position was the long dead skeleton of a snake of enormous size, so much so that a single rib stood twice his height. This cadaver of the past was coiled widely around where he stood, the beast having choked on its own tail.

Aelius found his breath, but it was soon taken from him as another voice sucked it from the air. His eyes slowly fell downwards to find the owner of the voice. There he saw himself, prostrate on the wooden block of a headsman.

”Mercy!” the voice called out to him.

“There will be none of that here,” a disembodied voice circled Aelius, its tone wildly different than the one that came from the copy of himself. His eyes met those of another Aelius, only this one wore the robes of a judge, as well as a conspicuous smile that curved completely around his own face, the tips fusing together to create infinity.

“Here here,” a group of voices agreed, and once more, Aelius found himself staring at not so subtle copies of himself. This time, however, it was one large body, fitted with countless heads that resembled his own, as if it was some strange monstrous jury.

“Headsman Aelius,” the judge goaded, “proceed with the sentence.”

Aelius’s attention settled again on the copy of himself, prostrate on the chopping block. The executioner’s blade in his hands suddenly felt heavy, not only with the weight of its steel, but the weight of terrible sin. The thought imparted on him a sense of shame and disgust. Were these the wrongs of the Aelius on the block, or were they his own?

“With what crime is this soul accused?” he asked, not entirely sure if he was thinking the words or saying them.

“He is virtuous for the sake of virtue, and is therefore not of virtue.” the judge’s voice was coarse and grainy, yet held an air to it. The sentence echoed in such a way that Aelius could have sworn he physically saw every word and every color it portrayed.

“But regardless,” Aelius said, “the things he does are still good. In isolation, they are selfless, with the well-being of others in mind. Does the intent negate the result?”

“Isolated or not, his intent has soured any good his actions could do. By living in squalor, and becoming a slave to his conceited idea of self, he has forgone any well being of another. He in time will come to hate virtue, or push too hard. In the end he will sow vice and discord, whether knowingly or not. Virtue cannot be isolated from the context, for then it is simply an action, and to judge an action isolated from the meaning and motivation, is to ignore what birthed the action and what will birth the infinite actions after. There is a lovely glint in every knife that stabs the back.”

Aelius found himself flustered by the judge’s response. He turned to face him and the tone of his reply a degree harder. “And if one’s actions caused evil, but with good intent? What if a man honestly believed in the right thing, yet his actions only birthed death and evil in his wake? Would you praise the virtue of his intent despite the failings of his labor?”

He pointed at the accused form of himself. “This man has neither evil or death on his conscious. Surely he is no worse than the man who does?”

“But isn't he? By choosing to perform good or evil, he first picks what is good and what is evil and then proceeds to act in accordance to his own satisfaction. There is no regard to the intent, no regard to the final effects of the action. No, both do harm and both blindly bumble onward in search of something you can't find.”

“There are some transgressions more easily seen than others, while others may never be seen by the perpetrator, but are nonetheless troublesome,” the judge punctuated, “you cannot force virtue.”

“Then what is virtue?” Aelius snarled.

The judge’s grin became even more wild and a gurgle of laughter met Aelius in reply. When Aelius turned away, he found himself kneeling on the ground, hands bound, head on the chopping block. His eyes widened as he stared at the executioner, the body he thought belonged to him just moments before. The sword hung in the air briefly, then it came down and all was black.

“Aelius,” a soft voice provoked Aelius to open his eyes. The blurry scene slowly focused before Aelius. He was sitting on a chair, plush and luxurious, and an oaken table that seemed to stretch for eternity to the left and right, was pressed against his stomach. Across the table (plated with various pickings on silver for any appetite), sat Asceal who stared at him with a worried face. Despite her concerned glow, Aelius couldn’t help but notice that in the pupil of each of her eyes glistened a crescent, shaped uncannily like a smile.

“Aelius?” Asceal spoke again, “your tea is getting cold, are you alright?”

It was just then that Aelius noticed a lukewarm cup of tea in his hand, and a small platter with drips and drops of dark liquid placed on the table before him. As Aelius soaked in the bizarre situation, a miniscule Parvus buzzed by on fly’s wings, suddenly getting zapped as it flew too close to a lantern of blue light. A tiny stream of smoke followed the tiny body to the floor of the great hall the table sat in.

“Yes,” Aelius said. His reply was too slow and Asceal caught on.

“What’s wrong?” she asked firmly. Those crescent eyes bore into him and he shifted in his seat. He hid behind a sip of the tea, buying time to think of something, anything, to reply with.

Asceal sat patiently, her eyes never leaving Aelius, not even as a stray Ohannakeloi suddenly scurried out from under a silver platter-lid and away from the table in retreat, a lemon slice stuck on its back. Asceal slurped loudly, keeping her gaze.

Aelius’s cup returned to the table and he said, “Nothing’s wrong, but… what else is there?” He felt a pang of shame as the words left his mouth.

Asceal nearly choked on her tea, and put her cup down, quickly covering her mouth with a napkin of silk. Clearing her throat, her brow furrowed, “What do you mean?”

“Galbar,” Aelius said quickly. “I’m talking about Galbar.” He searched the memory of his dream self and found, to his surprise, that Asceal and he had been successful. Galbar was alit and their furnaces burned eternally. He frowned. There was no sign of the other gods. Galbar was empty. There were no souls on its smooth, reflective surface. There was only light, and it was everywhere.

“We did it,” Aelius continued. “Why, then? Why does it feel so… empty?”

Asceal looked troubled. Slowly her shoulders drooped, “Because it is.”

Suddenly there was a groan, and for the first time Aelius noticed a man sitting next to him. When he snapped his head to witness the gentleman, he immediately recognized the smile. K’nell looked back at Aelius, “I’m not too fond of this reality.” a grainy voice echoed around the pair, “this one holds too much sorrow.”

“K’nell,” Aelius blurted. “How long have you-” Aelius turned back to Asceal, but the seat across the table was empty. He whirled, leaning over the arms of his chair and started at the God of Dreams.

“What the hell is all this?” Aelius snapped.

“This?” The voice pondered, “this is a possibility.”

K’nell leaned forward, the grainy voice whispering in Aelius’ ear, “a dream.”

Suddenly the world swirled around them, their bodies stretched and molded into impossible shapes, sounds grew taste and colors screamed, and then all at once it stopped. K’nell sat before Aelius, positioned upright in a throne. The Golden God himself sat in his own throne, directly facing the God of Sleep. All around them little orbs of ideas and thoughts danced, fitting of the ballroom surrounding the pair.

A whirling seed landed on Aelius’s knee and at once, clusters of miniature trees and flowers sprouted up his leg. He kicked and brushed them away. They danced and leaped away, diving into the void between the thrones. Returning his attention to K’nell, he asked, “Do you control all this? What’s your game?”

“Do you not like it?” K’nell answered, “Anything can happen in a dream.”

K’nell stood up, his feet causing little ripples on the surface of an endless void, “you came to visit me, so I thought it only fit to include you in my great distraction. It is wonderful, yes, a grand illusion, a great escape.”

“I judged and executed myself. Asceal and I were too successful, to the detriment of everything else. I’d hardly call that wonderful.”

“Well,” K’nell fall back into his throne, “a good dream should hold at least some kernel of truth. But now think, now that you have seen the end, experienced the means, couldn’t you use what you now know to better the singular dream you refer to as your reality?”

“Or perhaps not,” K’nell pondered, “what’s a dream, anyway.”

Suddenly the Dream God perked up once more, “perhaps you need a true escape?”

“What are you suggesting?” Aelius asked, suddenly wary.

K’nell's eversmile grew slightly at the question and then with a snap of his fingers, all went dark once more. The two journeyed from dream to dream, room to room. They traversed hundreds of dreams, thousands of possibilities, some beautiful, some horrible. Aelius experienced paradise, and felt the depths of terror. He was brought to tears at the feeling of true happiness and was broken against rocks. He experienced all he would ever want to, until he felt all his dreams balance into some strange equilibrium of bliss, confusion and worry. He felt it in the distance though, one final dream, no, THE final dream, a dream with every answer he ever sought, and every emotion he ever needed. It was in his grasp, tantalizing his fingers, and just as he felt its warm, comforting glow-- his eyes rocketed open.

He woke with a stir. He was inside his chariot, on a sphere of blue crystal. He felt something drain from his mind, and he knew right then and there, he was dreaming no longer. Then he saw it in his mind: a massive, dark shape speeding for Heliopolis.

The Abyss was mostly quiet and calm. There was the low hum of flowing water, cracking stone and bubbling magma echoing from all corners of the Sphere which gave enough background noise to keep the Abyss from total silence. The currents of the Abyss gently rocked Ashalla back and forth. Water was heated by the magma below, then rose to the top of the Abyss where it cooled against the stone above and sank to repeat the cycle. Ashalla found it soothing.

As she drifted through the Abyss, something peculiar happened. Magma rose and fell regularly in the Abyss, but in one particular spot a column of magma was rising with more determination of any of its peers. The column reached the ceiling of the Abyss and burrowed through it. Setting it apart further, the column's girth grew as a vast quantity of magma was pulled up through the rising stream of molten rock. Around this great stream rose other smaller columns, which also made it through the ceiling. Ashalla circled around this peculiar new formation, watching the dancing magma and pondering why it had appeared or where it led.

Her thoughts were interrupted when a terrific shockwave pulsed through the Abyss, rippling through Ashalla with a dull whomp and causing many of the lesser magma columns to collapse. Attuned to the Sphere and water as she was, Ashalla could identify that this had arisen from some kind of powerful impact somewhere on Galbar above her.

She had wandered a long way from the Abyssal Rift. She could try navigating the magma tubes in front of her in the hope that they would lead to Galbar's surface, but she was not yet willing to brave such a dangerous passage. Instead she opted to swim back to the Abyssal Rift, but not wishing to miss the events on the surface Ashalla pushed herself to swim faster. She shifted her means of propagation from pulling a large mass of water through a flowing current to a propagating pressure wave in the water, pulsing forwards at the speed of sound.

Even at this great speed it took Ashalla almost an hour to make it to the Abyssal Rift. She turned upwards and in seconds she shot through the rift, struck the surface of the ocean and propelled herself upwards as tall and narrow columns of water which spiralled around each other for support. Ashalla made it up a kilometer before running out of momentum. The tops of the columns shaped themselves into watery eyes and looked out over the world for over a hundred kilometres in every direction. Yet she was still too distant to see direct evidence of the impact, although she could see the front of the tsunami which had radiated from the epicenter.

But another more stunning sight imposed itself upon her senses. In the sky was a point-source of intense light which illuminated Galbar. The ocean and the sky were both painted in brilliant shades of blue. Ashalla's towering watchtower form collapsed after a couple of seconds of gawking. Just under the waves the way light refracted and danced made her giggle in artistic glee.

As the shockwaves of the distant collision rolled past her, she was reminded of her original intent. She swam towards the source of the great disturbance. Before she saw the impact site, she saw the great cloud mixed with dust which had risen from the impact and was spreading out over the sky. Yet from the centre of that expanding cloud was a blue light and unnatural air currents causing the clouds to coalesce and the dust to precipitate out. It was Azura the windy one at work, cleaning her own domain. Ashalla left Azura to her work as she swam up to the colossal crater.

Ashalla's dizzying pace was slowed somewhat as she crossed through the rocky crags and shallows of the rim of the Eye of Desolation. The obstructions caused scattering and reflection of her wave-like advance, forcing her to slow down to keep her essence coherent. But soon she was past the rim and into deep water once more and could return to full speed.

The ocean in the center of the Eye was very deep indeed. While some depth made sense for a feature made by a great impact, if Ashalla had known about asteroid impact dynamics she would know that even this was surprisingly deep for such a crater. The waters were still hot from the cataclysm, the rim of the crater inhibiting the water from mixing with the cooler water outside. The floor of the crater was unlike the seafloor elsewhere. Here the floor had been molten by the impact then solidified soon afterwards, creating smooth and twisted patterns. Dust made the waters turbid, although the dust would settle eventually. Yet in this dust was also a taste of some strange and foreign mineral.

Then, finally, Ashalla came upon the pupil of the Eye and the cause of this crater. It was a mountainous lump of strange black metal submerged in the ocean, its form rippled and warped. The great lump was half-buried by the new sea floor. Ashalla tasted it and found that this new substance was related to the strange mineral she tasted in the water around her. But they were not the same thing, for the mineral was inert while she sensed that this metal, as hardy as it was, harboured a terrible amount of destructive energy. Destructive energy which tasted of the essence of Orvus.

Ashalla shuddered briefly. Could her brother already be attempting to poison her oceans? She analysed the metal and its salts more carefully, seeing how their taste evolved, yet their taste did not change, even with her trying to gently pry apart the substances. The salts and minerals made of the reacted metal were inert, of no more consequence than the sodium chloride and other more natural salts found throughout Galbar. The metal itself, despite its latent potential, refused to corrode, and its incredible hardness protected it from erosion. The metal was less likely to pollute the water than Galbar's native bedrock. Having finally assured herself that this new substance posed no risk to the oceans, she swam away from the Eye.

Her next destination was whatever had been drawing all the magma up from the Abyss. It was not far from the Eye, at least not on a global scale, so soon Ashalla came in sight of a new island, its sea-bed also made from freshly solidified lava. Ashalla rose up and stood at the shore of that island, inspecting it, and she saw a peculiar sight. It was a conical mountain of stone, spewing forth molten rock which poured down into the sea below, solidifying into new land. Ashalla tasted one of the lava flows where it met the ocean with hissing steam, and this taste verified that it was the same molten rock which had been drawn up out of the Abyss. The taste also revealed the essence of the fiery one, Sartravius. Had Sartravius known from where he drew the magma from when he created this volcano? It mattered little to Ashalla.

Although, watching the island grow ever so slowly, a pang of worry struck Ashalla. Could this growing island one day overtake the whole ocean? But then she realised the nonsense of such a concern. The lava merely displaced the water, it did not destroy it. Even if the fiery one was able to muster enough strength to have this volcano cover the entire planet, the ocean would remain and the volcano's base would remain submerged. Not that she considered such an outcome likely.

Ashalla departed from Muspell and meandered around the ocean for a while longer, aimless for a time, watching the sun circle around Galbar and drifting with the currents, until she eventually came back to the Eye of Desolation. There she discovered that things had changed. Things coloured green and brown with a multitude of limbs of varying sizes now coated the larger island, and among the greenery moved entities which in the broadest sense possible could be said to superficially resemble Ashalla's siblings, in that they had legs, heads and other similar biological features. Ashalla moved under a cliff face and felt a leaf which had fallen into the waves, tasting its essence. This was a creation of Phystene, the green one.

Ashalla rose up so that she was peering over the top of the cliff into the jungle beyond. She marvelled at the beauty of each species there and wondered at the mechanisms of the ecosystem. She stretched out a seawater pseudopod and engulfed a branch of a nearby tree. She could taste the oxygen diffusing out of its leaves and carbon dioxide being drained away. Ashalla then saw a lizard and scooped that up with another pseudopod. It struggled against Ashalla's grip and she let the creature go, but it had been in her grip long enough for her to taste its carbon dioxide rich and oxygen poor breath.

Ashalla paused to ponder this for a moment. Oxygen was a reactive gas, and was useful for extracting energy from other substances. Carbon dioxide was the product of oxygen reacting with carbon, and all these living things were made mostly of hydrogen and carbon. Watching the animals for a little longer, Ashalla noted that they consumed the plants and smaller animals. So it would appear that this was the way in which the animals obtained their energy, like how the ocean currents obtained their energy from the Abyss. Without divine essence creating energy from nothing for them, they would have to obtain their energy from an external source. As Ashalla considered this it was a manner which made sense. The mighty took energy from the weak, and those with plenty had their energy taken from those with few.

But what of the plants? They did not consume other creatures, yet somehow they obtained adequate energy to reverse the binding of oxygen and carbon to create free oxygen gas. Ashalla uprooted a small shrub to inspect where its roots went, and while the soil contained many useful nutrients it contained very little usable energy. Ashalla tried to search for some other source of energy. She quickly ruled out heat and divine power, and was left puzzling over the source.

As Ashalla stood there inspecting the jungle, she slowly came to realise that her back was getting warmer. She twisted her head to look behind her, and saw the afternoon sun shining at her. Then realisation struck her. Right there was a source of limitless power (at least, limitless as far as these mortal creatures were concerned), one readily accessible for all creatures on the surface of Galbar. It was simple for her to test that the rate of respiration of the plants slowed down when a shadow was cast over them.

Now that she knew what it was, it was obvious. She could taste the chlorophyll in the leaves, which converted light into chemical energy, which the plants used to bind carbon dioxide, water and soil nutrients into more plant. Animals then came along and consumed the plants, or parts of the plants, converting plant into flesh and energy, consuming oxygen and exhaling carbon dioxide and water in the process. Larger animals did the same to the smaller animals. And thus the food chain unfolded before her. And not only the food chain, but the oxygen cycle.

Yet this tiny jungle island seemed deficient in that regard. The atmosphere of Galbar as a whole was quite low on oxygen. In fact, these plants seemed to be the only source of oxygen on all of Galbar. By Ashalla's reckoning, there shouldn't have been any oxygen on this planet at all, as oxygen is not stable. Perhaps the Blue leaked some oxygen into the Middle Sphere from when Azura created it not long ago, but it seemed unwise to rely on that source to persist forever. Furthermore, it seemed likely that the pantheon would desire to create a great multitude of animals, as animals mimicked their godly forms, yet Galbar in its current state could not support a great number of animals.

What Galbar needed was more plants. Yet these plants of Phystene's design would be inadequate, for the world was mostly ocean. So what Galbar needed was some kind of plant which lived in water and would live in all the oceans of the world.

Ashalla felt another quake rumble through the planet and ripple through the ocean. Another great disturbance from the other side of the world, and likely another landmass made. Ashalla figured that, with the world still being a blank canvas, the gods would be creating more continents. In this Age of Galbar's life investing in a fragile ecosystem like the jungle before her would be unwise. Whatever she created would need to be resilient, able to survive shifting continents and powerful waves, if not individually then at least corporately. Something which grew on the sea floor would not do for this purpose, for then it could be buried. She would need simple lifeforms which would float in the ocean such that they were impervious to the changing world around them.

Yet plant-like photosynthetic organisms would not be enough. She'd need a whole ecosystem of drifters. Some to consume the plant-like ones to prevent them from growing too plentiful and depleting the seas of their resources, and some to consume the remains when the drifters inevitably wore out and died. She'd need other drifters which could convert nitrogen gas into more usable forms of nitrogen. Other elements would also need to be harvested.

With designs formulating in her mind, Ashalla dived back into the ocean and swam off to enact them. She pulled together the elements around her to form the basic cells which would make up this life, using designs based upon those she had seen Phystene use. It was a fiddly task, but one that paid off as she finished her first life-form. It drifted in the sea, photosynthesising light into energy, stripping carbon from carbon dioxide to build itself and releasing the excess oxygen. Once it had grown large enough, it divided into two smaller copies of itself. It was a microscopic little thing, but it was only the beginning.

The act of creation became easier with each subsequent being Ashalla made. Once she became confident with one design, she switched to a new design. Soon her designs become more elaborate, involving multicellular organisms. After a while she was able to produce beings like tiny versions of the animals Phystene had made, albeit designed for life drifting in the ocean. It was not long before she became so proficient in the task that she was able to create measurable quantities of these tiny drifters as she moved, ecosystems blossoming in her wake. Algae, polyps and tiny crustaceans were among her creations and she swam through the ocean, spreading these tiny yet plentiful creatures wherever she went.

And Ashalla went everywhere, for her siblings had created several new features in her time down in the Abyss. She discovered Parvus' Maw and Chopstick Eye's Mount Chop. She circumnavigated Kirron's continent and delved into the depths of the hole it had left behind, where she found a few faint fissures leaking mineral-rich volcanic gases up from the Abyss. Her little drifters, or plankton as they might be called in another tongue, would like those nutrients. Ashalla even considered the possibility of creating an ecosystem which drew its energy from volcanic vents rather than the sun, but she deferred that task until later.

Ashalla wandered the globe and found other features which her siblings had built. She started to detect the influence of other Spheres emerge. Clouds which rained fresh water came from So'E. The night sky had been darkened by the Great Dark, yet the distant incandescent flames of the Sky of Pyres punctuated the black backdrop. And drifting in the night sky, in direct opposition to Heliopolis, was Asceal's Lustrous Comet, which cast a very faint glow in the night sky. It seemed uncharacteristic that Asceal's Sphere would be so dim, so Ashalla assumed that it must be incomplete.

Ashalla did not expect what came next.

Suddenly the night sky was lit up as bright, no, brighter than day, light of ferocious intensity blazing out from the crystal moon. The light burned itself into the sky, turning it blue, and Ashalla could feel the heat radiating from the sunburst. Yet after a few seconds the light faded enough for Ashalla to see that what had once been a spherical moon was now a rapidly expanding cloud of luminescent debris. The many of the glimmering fragments stretched across the night sky, filling the night with stars, but some fell from the heavens and descended through the atmosphere, trailing incandescent air behind them as they fell to Galbar below.

Ashalla was not entirely sure whether that was planned, to fill the night sky with glittering dust, or whether something had gone horribly wrong and the backlash had resulted in a cataclysmic explosion. Ashalla assumed the latter, as Asceal's moon had been utterly destroyed in the blast and she considered it unlikely that Asceal would take the care to build a moon only to blast it to pieces.

Yet while the explosion was well beyond Ashalla's reach, the fragments which had fallen to Galbar below were not. Ashalla stretched out her essence, found where the nearest fragment had touched down and contracted around it. It was a tiny crystal fragment the size of a pebble that had a persistent glow. Ashalla inspect it, finding it rich in Asceal's essence, and surmised that this glow would be permanent. As the glow emanated from the crystal through its cracks and facets, the light refracted to create a scintillating rainbow.

Ashalla considered the fragment quite pretty and decided she would keep it. She went to the Abyssal Rift, which was a slow journey because she could not propagate as a sound wave while carrying a solid object, although Ashalla continued to sow plankton as she travelled. Ashalla left the fragment near the Abyss end of the rift, where she could easily find it again. Then Ashalla headed back to the surface and continued to wander Galbar and create plankton.

When Seihdhara awoke, Orvus had disappeared and Galbar was bright and blue and big before her. It took her breath away, stretching in all directions endlessly and immensely, and it was only after a few moments of beholding the glorious blue jewel that she realised it was getting closer - and quickly at that. All about her was heat as she began passing through the planet's atmosphere, and she winced in pain even as the living strand of red hair seemed to burn ever brighter and grow in strength due to the fiery protective layer. Seihdhara's sun-kissed skin, though used to heat and light, did not fare so well. Indeed, once she was past the worst of it, the withered white hairs that remained of her beautiful red locks were burnt to cinders, and her olive skin had hardened. Already different parts of her body were swelling and showing signs of scalding and peeling. The cool air rushing against her sensitive skin provided some respite, but the pressure was huge and her speed was great and so the wind seem to cut away at her like so many razors. And indeed, even as she fell her skin split here and there and blood and puss seeped out and was swept away behind her by the pressure.

But through the pain, Seihdhara beheld the glorious planet that lay before her, and she spread her arms and gave a great whoop of delight, declaring her arrival to the four horizons. And yes, the sounds she made all came out garbled due to the wind, but Seihdhara was loud and she was happy and this world had no idea what was coming its way. Eyebrows furrowed, mischief glinting in her eyes, and grinning unrepentantly from ear to ear, she leaned forward, let loose a cacaphonous peal of laughter, and dived with dangerous speed towards the planet. All the battering Galbar had taken before this would be as childplay when she landed! And her laughter - and it was not really quite clear why or how, but only that it did - filled everything in existence with joy; the trees of Phystene's making and the birds Azura had crafted and the plankton Ashalla was so assiduously seeding into the World Water - and why, the World Water itself and the rivers and the newly risen (or fallen) lands! All knew unadulterated, unbound, abiding joy as they saw - with that single sound - into the fire-soul of the goddess with soul aflame.


Unexpected as it may be, but they sound... unexpected. When Seihdhara was cloven in two, it was somewhat unexpected. The goddess blinked a few times, registering only that the world was very bright, that- were those her legs falling down there?! Then pain exploded in the back of her head, a small umph escaped her lips, and she fell right out of her body. She blinked a few times, hovering in place, and watched as her upper body - golden-red ichor exploding from her gored bald head and oddly making it seem like she yet had her flaming red hair hair - tumbled awkwardly earthward like a tattered and broken ragdoll. Seihdhara frowned deeply, her lips pressed one against the other in a worried straight line.
Tha'... she said (but not really), cannae be good. And before she could consider how the flaming fuck that had happened or chase after her sundered body, she was swept away. And all about her was screaming and agony, and ethereal hands clawing at her face. And sticking their dirty flaking fingers up my nose! Tell them the important details, twit-head! I had soul bits in my nose for who knows how long after that!

Why can't I be the narrator of my own bloody story anyway?



The body - or at least the upper part of it - was still warm. The large crystal that had cleanly bisected it lay not too far away, golden ichor dripping from it. A short distance from that was the rest of the body, from the waste downward. It was gushing an enormous amount of ichor. So much that it had now become a small pool and had already expanded to encompass the razor sharp crystal that had split Seihdhara in twain. For a long time, all was silent and still but for the gushing flame-red ichor and the growing pool of it. Then an arm moved, dragging Seihdhara's half-buried torso an inch forth. And all was still again. Then the arm jerked and the body jolted forward once more. This occurred a number of times, leaving behind a narrow but relatively deep ditch behind the large goddess' dead upper body into which the pooling blood swiftly streamed.

The single strand of living hair unravelled and rose above the half-corpse. While Seihdhara's body had been battered and burnt by the passage through the atmosphere, the strand had only savoured in it and been strengthened by the heat. If anything, it seemed to have gotten longer and thicker than before, its glow more notable and its redness more pronounced. Wrapping itself tightly about the half-corpse, the strand began to drag it off with renewed vigour, and the blood pouring from the half-corpse met that flowing after them from Seihdhara's lower body. And where the ichor flowed the earth gave in and the small narrow ditch grew wider and deeper. For how long the strand dragged the half-corpse, it was not clear, but eventually it reached the World Water and dragged her even thence. The ditch, which had grown into an almighty river flowing with flame-red, burning ichor, met the World Water with eagerness and fed into it. Its source had become an almighty pool of the stuff, Seihdhara's lower body becoming utterly submerged and pumping eternally. The River Seihdhar, for good or ill, flowed across the blood god's continent. And, perhaps, it was rather fitting. Though what effect such a profusion of divine ichor would have on Galbar... the strand of living hair could not know, and it did not consider it its job to know. Why, the river was an accident, and afterthought.

Granted growing strength by the great sun in the Galbarian skies, the living strand lifted the half-corpse right out of the water and ascended into the skies, Seihdhara's ichor watefalling from the corpse before quickly spreading and permeating through the skies in a gasseous state. Higher and higher the living strand went, as though trying to reach the sun. But the higher it went the colder it became, and the hair seemed to shiver and its glow dimmmed. And it remembered the coldness of what was beyond Galbar's atmosphere and knew that to reach the sun was impossible for it. Drooping slightly, it began its descent to warmer climes and greater strength. As it descended, it considered the gaping, eternally bleeding wound left behind by the crystal that killed Seihdhara. It proded at the gash, but the bleeding did not stop. It attempted to cover it with itself for a time, but that only made the living strand sticky and icky with ichor. It attempted to forcefully close the wound, but it seemed an impossible task. Even if it were to use itself it could not hope to sew the wound closed. Considering Seihdhara's burnt body, a flash of inspiration came upon the strand and a searing heat concentrated at one of its ends. Slowly, delicately, dilligently, it brought its heated self towards the gushing wound and began to burn it closed. It was an incredibly lengthy task, but by the time the stranded landed on a great island gushing with all kinds of life, the bleeding had stopped.

Unable to reach the sun, and not knowing where else it could find such a source of incredible heat to strengthen itself, the living strand wrapped itself around a dead wrist and took on the form of a torc once more. Perhaps... perhaps resting in the sunlight long enough would do.

---

---

---

---

As the gods of the surface world began to quickly erect their own islands and continents in complete chaos, Sartr continued to brew within his fiery realm of Muspelheim. There Sartr laid, bathing within a boiling magma lake, not giving a care in the world as he brushed his meaty hands into his molten beard. While he could feel such massive changes to the world above - such as the water goddess Ashalla's supermassive tsunami, Orvus' catastrophic meteor impact of desolation, and even the erection of a giant continent by the blood god Kirron - the fire god had no interest in emerging from the comfort of his realm. In fact, as far as he cared, they could do whatever they want up there so as long as they don't harm his realm in any shape or form. As long as they didn't intrude, Sartr would pay them no mind.

Yet as time went by, the flame god began to grow tired of soaking up the heat. Emerging from the magma pool, he'd find himself walking aimlessly upon the volcanic plains, scouring his world for something to do. His feet penetrated the blackened ground with every step, displacing volcanic ash and sand in every direction. In fact, the heat and pressure from all his stomping was enough to create glass crystals from the misplaced sand. All of this walking made Sartr restless. He wanted to do something, but he just didn't know what.

Something seemed to be lacking in this world... but what?

Yet before he could attempt to figure out the answer to this puzzling question, he'd suddenly feel his flames spike up as if a chill ran down his blistering spine. The flames seemed to repel to the east, as if they were attempting to get away from something. Sartr couldn't see the threat that was nearby, pausing mid-stride to access the situation. There was nobody in here. So why was his body acting so abnormally? He'd dip his right foot into a lava stream, becoming one with his realm as he searched the realm for any sign of disturbance.

A few seconds would pass before he sensed whatever was causing this irritating abhorrence. His senses took him back to outside of Muspell - upon the outskirts of the ever growing volcano. There he could feel the presence of another god within the area - but not just any god.

The Water Goddess was inspecting his realm.

A jolt of dread shook through every flame in his body as he began to monitor Ashalla's presence from the safety of land. The incarnation of water seemed to be inspecting his volcano - even having the audacity in tasting the oozing lava from one of the flows. Her presence was uninvited and one that wasn't welcomed. It forced Sartr on edge. He began to wonder worryingly about why she was here. Was she here to destroy his realm? Was she here to quench his power and flame and destroy his realm? He was beginning to prepare for conflict against her, as his body forced him to stay in his realm.

But thankfully it seemed that Ashalla was only just visiting - perhaps being simply curious by the giant mountain of stone and lava that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

Sartr sighed in relief as the water goddess' aura began to slowly diminish the farther she went away. His worse nightmare had came to pass. His foot emerged from the lava flow, having finally stepped back onto the safety of his own world. And suddenly, he knew just what he must do.

His flames must continue to spread throughout Galbar.

He had chanted this very saying before - within the presence of the Architect himself no doubt - but now he had a valid reason why. His flames were always destined to spread upon the world at large, and were constantly threatened to be extinguished by water. If Muspellheim were to suddenly fall overnight, then the main source of flame will be gone forever. Yet if fire could survive elsewhere, then his chances for survival were increased. But in order to ensure that his heat will continue to live on, Sartr had to create subjects that were specifically designed for this purpose.

He must create a harbinger of fire of his own mind and image.

Sartr grinned upon this revelation as he rushed over to a large lake of swirling magma. He stood upon a large cliff that overlooked the boiling substance, which formed a large maelstrom in the middle of the cauldron. The burly figure slowly rose his arms into the air as he bellowed only a single word.

"RIIIIIIIIISE!"

The lake would cease all movement for a mere second. Then it began to swirl around again, only much more rapidly. The lava began to bubble even more so, with lava geysers bursting from the lake in some places. The magma continued intensifying more and more until a gigantic flying monster suddenly emerged from the inferno of fire.



Sartr watched in glee as his first creation rose from the lake, as it uttered a booming screech to signify its birth. It's massive wings were encapsulated in extremely hard rock, whilst oozing lava within the cracks. Wherever it flew, bits of lava, fire, and ash fell to the ground, scorching the ground in which it flew. It truly was a magnificent specimen - and one that will provide as the perfect Avatar in which to wield. Sartr continued observing the beast's rampage through his realm before finally calling it over.

"COME."

The winged monstrosity immediately hailed his creator's message as it spun around and flew towards the flaming god. Upon reaching him, it folded its wings into a walking position as it landed just several meters before it. It's size dwarfed the god by triple, with it's mighty wingspan being even larger in order to support its massive weight. It tilted its head down towards Sartr while issuing a guttural groan of affection. Sartr was pleased to see that his newfound creation was so loyal to him.

"GOOD BOY." he applauded it while patting its pointy hook-like beak, "FROM HERE POINT OUT I SHALL CALL YOU "PHOENIX". YOU ARE TO BE MY EYES AND EARS FOR WHEN I REMAIN IN THIS REALM. BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY, YOU WILL SPREAD THE FLAMES TO WHEREVER I DEEM FIT! I AM NOT READY TO PUBLICLY EMERGE ONTO GALBAR IN MY CURRENT STATE, BUT MY TIME IS COMING."

He paused for a minute as his hand created a spiral of fire that revealed the current geography of the entire world of Galbar. Sartr would then point to a large mass of white located near the bottom right to the Phoenix.

"A NEW CONTINENT HAS BEEN FORMED IN THIS LOCATION." Sartr boldly continued, "I WANT YOU TO INSPECT THIS WORLD AND SEE AS TO WHAT THE OTHERS ARE DOING. WHILE THERE, YOU ARE ALSO TO FIND A NEW SUITABLE LOCATION TO ERECT ANOTHER VOLCANO TO SPREAD MY INFLUENCE. ONCE YOU GATHER ENOUGH INFORMATION, REPORT BACK TO ME AND WE WILL BEGIN TO PLACE OUR MARK IN THIS REALM! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

The Phoenix nodded understandingly.

"GOOD!" Sartr replied satisfactory, "NOW GET TO IT."



The terror bird cawed loudly as it took to the skies and headed to the gateway to Galbar. Once it emerged from the volcano, its presence caused the volcano to erupt once more. Shaking off the volatile substance, it would quickly observe over the new land that it would call home atop his obsidian perch. More lava and ash erupted from the crater as the Phoenix finally took off, heading south-east to the large continent as its Master ordered him.

Sartr's raging plan had only just begun.

Azura left Parvus behind, feeling uncomfortable. Partially because of the conversation itself, partially because she was not liking the fact that she felt thankful that the catastrophe that had given her an excuse to flee. As she flew into the night towards the point on Galbar directly beneath the explosion site the divine bird had to dodge the occasional piece of debris, 300 degree vision and sensitivity to the wind produced by their fall giving her just enough warning to avoid anything that might have hurt her. Sure, she could have just waited for this all to land, but that would mean risking any leads she found up there going cold. It would have also meant spending more time with Parvus and she really did not want to do that right now. Or possibly ever. Maybe one day she could have an interaction with a god that did not end with an explosion Azura mused as she dodged a particularly large chunk hurtling towards a newly discovered continent below.

She had skimmed by the northern tip of it on her travels and though she did wish to investigate it she’d be leaving that, and the introduction of her Gemstone Gardeners to its stone soars, till later. As it was she eventually successfully navigated the last vestiges of the crystal shower and arrived below the The Lustrous Garden, its distant remains hanging far above the atmosphere of Galbar. Now the only question was how she was going to reach it. A few failed attempts at simply pointing herself in the right direction and flapping really hard proved that no. She was not going to be able to just fly there.

After a bit of contemplation done while lazily shadowing the comet as it slowly drifted across the sky she decided that what she lacked was momentum and so she decided to compensate for this with a big run up and giving herself a bit of an extra push. What this decision resulted in was the creation of what was effectively a wind based railgun. She descended to just above the waves, then created two columns of rapidly cycling disk of air just above and to either side of her that reached all the way to the upper atmosphere. Once her creation was up to speed she took a deep breath, steeled herself and with a mighty flap entered the acceleration wind chamber. She began flapping, syncing each flap up so that it entered one of the spinning disks of air so that it gave her an extra burst of speed, destroying the disk in the process as she stole its energy. She raced through Galbar’s atmosphere, hurtling skywards at a recklessly high speed until suddenly she wasn't, and she was instead soaring through the heavens towards the remains of the second sun. About halfway through this flight she realized she did not have a plan as to how to stop. Because she was slowing down as she went higher she had about 4 times as long to think about this problem as she had had spent in blissful ignorance flying through vacuum. By the time she popped into Asceal’s sphere and Galbar’s gravity stopped having a slowing effect on her she had a plan. That plan involved screaming very loudly as she entered the debris field, emptying her cavernous lungs in a bid to halt her momentum with her breath. This almost worked up until the point that she plowed head first into a massive shard of crystal and everything went dark.

She awoke a few moments later with a splitting headache and surrounded by a small number of her own feathers drifting in the void. She did not pay them much mind however because the rest of the Sphere was truly a sight to behold. Millions upon millions of shards of glowing crystal floated freely in the sphere, free of Galbar’s gravity. Some were the size of splinters, others the size of homes and a few where the size of cites. Mesmerized, Azura set out to explore this strange disaster site. Most of it was the same crystal, thousands upon thousands of metric tons of it, and the bird god primarily navigated the maze of light by jumping from one large glowing rock to the other, using the air she had brought with her in her lungs to to course correct as she forced it to blow alongside her. The other interesting thing in here were bits of a once immense lens. The largest parts of it where the size of mountains that distorted the light from the crystal in strange ways, creating beams of light that slowly patrolled the sphere. Of the sphere’s mistress there was no sign. There where other souls to be found however, ones that zipped through the sphere towards some unknown destination. When she followed one it lead her to the very top of the sphere where she got her first sight of the sky pyres. Unlike Asceal she had no way of knowing what they were jsut by looking at them, but with the way they drew the dead she rightly suspected it was some kind of afterlife. She hoped the god of the dead was kind, but the infernal flames did not fill her with much confidence.

Having found more questions than she had answers the goddess prepared to return back to Galbar so that she could instead investigate the sphere containing the still function sun. She had said to Parvus that she believed she lacked foresight because she had spent to much time near the ground so perhaps the god who had spent their time in the sky would know more about what was going on and could rid Azura of the sensation dread that gripped her. One caused by being blind to events that could so easily overtake her. Destination set she made her way back through the remains of the Lustrous garden, grabbing a Azura sized lens as she went. She had seen what happened to things entering Galbar’s atmosphere too fast, and she did not want to join them in their toasted fate.

---

Azura fell and she fell fast, the lens having been maneuvered into leading the way as they plunged towards the atmosphere. An observer on Galbar would see them approach closer and closer at frightening speed until the sky was suddenly turned from black to blue in a small spot, one that rapidly grew as the atmosphere and Azura both came ever closer to one another. Then they touched and both Blue and Bird vanished.

---

Fire and heat wracked the lens as the goddess hid behind it, her talons feeling as though they were aflame where they penetrated the lense despite them being shielded from the worst of it. Around them, Galbar and the night sky had been replaced with the endless Blue, Azura’s glowing father's day aura having unintentionally allowed her to enter it from above like anyone who had struck the atmosphere of the day side of Galbar would do. Gradually the pair slowed as the lens bore the brunt of their atmospheric reentry. Once the fire had died down Azura dared open her wings slightly and, using them and the power of the wind, she halted their decent well before they reached the bottom of the Blue. Azura was home and it looked a bit different from how it had. Some of her floating temples were overgrown with dead or dying plant life while the air was blemished by strange phantom rivers. It was a mess but Azura did not mind much. Being back in her own domain put her at ease however and so she found these invasions more interesting than concerning. First things first however she stashed the lens fragment in one of her temples and then she set off towards the other side of Galbar via her Sphere, still seeking answers, but now happy to give over some time to investigating the various interesting oddities that had erupted since she had left along the way.

The rivers seemed to faze in and out of existence as she went and she discovered that she could not interact with these rivers particularly well either. Submerging herself in one did give her the sensation of being wet, but she could not drink the water and she emerged from it covered in nothing but a light dew. The plants meanwhile seemed to burst into bloom seemingly at random, and any structure brought to the same area would also soon be covered with life while the phenomenon lasted, but it too like the rivers would deacy in time and the plants would be left to die of dehydration. Some were lucky enough to drift through a phantom river at regular intervals but this was rare and so the main living plant life of the Blue ended up being cacti and other drought resistant plants that could also cling to their stony perches without fear of falling as they rolled through the sky. The Architect given knowledge of gods and spheres allowed her to make a relatively accurate guess as to what was going on: Shengshi and Phystene’s spheres where interacting with hers somehow and bleeding their dominions into the Blue, creating rivers and plants were previously none where to be found. She wondered how things were on the other side and if there were any other interactions that she was missing.

Azura decided to flex here creativity a bit to make use of these new phenomenon. She let her voice sing out a single clear note that pulsed through the nearby area of the Blue. Where it hit the waters of the Fengshui Fuyou it formed spectral fish like creatures with translucent flesh and glowing lights strung along their bodies that Azura named Phase Motes. Where it hit the plants from the world tree the leaves came alive and took to the air as small manta-ray like creatures called Loft Leaves, while the trunks and stems formed the first Grazer Drakes, long slimy creatures with royal blue flesh and tiny red horns which flew on several sets of frond like fins. The Phase Motes would be able to drink the rivers directly, taking nutrients and water from the nearby sphere. The Loft Leaves would sample the dew and drink the light of the blue. Finally the Grazer Drakes would munch on the dead plants, keeping the temples clean of dead material. She collectively dubbed these hand sized creatures Sky Slugs. As soon as they were made these simple creatures set about the business of existing and making the sky even weirder looking. Soon after their creation flocks of Phase Motes and Loft Leaves could be seen from the surface of Galbar, soaring from one phantom river to the next.

Satisfied with her bout of creativity she next decided to get a better view of Galbar and her sphere’s bizarre geometry, splaying the whole world out below her like a map, made this very easy. She could see the Eye and its gradually spreading greenery, various small mountains and islands that looked modified enough to maybe be gateways and the new continent she had seen a bit of earlier that seems to have been thrown into existence. It had large flat plains at one end, tall mountains at the other and a few interesting features that could be seen even from up here like a massive crevasse, some kind of shallow lake and...

”Oh gross. Is that blood? I hope that’s not blood.”

And a river of blood. She hoped she was either wrong or it was Kirron’s doing, because any other possibility did not bode well.

Eventually her circumnavigation of the globe brought her below the sun, at which point she dropped down, far more gently this time, and popped out of the bottom of her sphere into Galbar’s atmosphere. From there she dived down low and commenced a second wind launch. This time as she breached the atmosphere she brought some of it with her, wrapping it around herself so she could use it to guide her flight as she flew too close to the sun.

Parvus
____

After the bird god left, Parvus finished his examination of the Eye of Desolation and returned to the Maw. As he paced around his barren island, he glanced down at his hand. A small bit of primordial venom remained within the wound. It was not a serious concern, as it was a mere extension of himself, and disregarding that, it lacked the potency to kill a diety.

He thought back to his conversation with Urhu for a moment. Poisons are a dreadful tool, but they are a useful tool. He would need a region for his toxins to grow. A part of him wished to stall himself. However, he pushed forward, motivated by pride and duty.

He grasped his injured hand and absorbed the primordial venom into himself. For a brief moment, purple veins appeared across his body before suddenly vanishing.

He lurched and looked down into the Maw, watching as the smoke descended downwards into the Hive. He reached outwards with his powers and forced dirt from the Hive out into Galbar. The stony island began to shift and change, breaking down into fresh soil. He granted the archipelago a name, the Fel Isles.

The Fel Isles was a relatively small, compact island chain. It is primarily composed of three, moderately sized islands that could give the appearance of being a single larger island if viewed from the sky. Six smaller islands dot the surrounding ocean around the central region. Located within the central-most reaches of the archipelago rests the Maw.

After examing the isles, he continued with his task. Purple veins appeared across the nine islands and imbued them with his essence. From the virgin soil, vegetation emerged. A tropical jungle quickly enveloped the islands, and other animals formed to complete the ecosystem. Poisons and venoms were not only commonplace within the Fel Isles, but they were potent and were highly varied.

Once he had completed his task, Parvus decided to grant a name to the central island, as it contained the Maw and was currently the most important of the nine Fel Isles. He gave it the name "Thoraxia."

---

---

The silence of space was truly comforting. Melantha drifted for an unknown amount of time, her body carried through the void on the dregs of residual energy borrowed from the explosion of the asteroid.

The collision between Aelius and the rock had been cataclysmic, to say the least. Melantha had barely managed to escape the immediate blast zone when the resulting shockwaves reached her. She had quickly erected a barrier to protect herself, but the sheer force of it pushed her away with a might unlike no other. Nevertheless, that was her goal, the only way she could think of that would enable her to escape relatively unscathed.

And she did, indeed, escape, but soon after doing so, she fell unconscious. Be it from the force of the shockwave or the shock from Aelius' attack penetrating through the seed of power she left behind, the dark goddess ended up in a comatose state, drifting endlessly in the space between Spheres.

At some point, however, she awoke to the sound of her breathing, a unique sound amidst the silence of her surroundings. Breathing... What is breathing? Did she breathe? If yes, what did she breathe? Why did she breathe? Melantha clutched her head with a frown; her thinking was all jumbled up as if enveloped by dark fog. She made to open her eyes, but they would not obey her will. Softly touching her eyes with her fingers let her discover that they were swollen and puffy, and whenever she prodded them acute pain shot straight through her body.

Melantha sighed when she realized that she might have inadvertently been blinded in the aftermath of the attack. Pitch-black darkness poured out of her mouth, transforming into a blindfold that covered her eyes completely. The way it melded in with her dark mane not only didn't take away from her overall look but gave the goddess an even more mystifying appearance.

Reaching deep inside her mind, she brought forth the mental map she had previously created while she had been travelling around the upper spheres atop the Architect's crystal. The goddess' lone form melded into the starry background as she slowly propelled herself towards the direction of her Sphere.

---

---

Melantha was almost halfway to her Sphere when her divine sense picked up on a massive release of energy an extraordinary distance away from her location. Her eyes had yet to heal, Melantha had no idea when or if they would do so, and thus she was not able to discern what exactly had caused it, but she could feel the ripples in space caused by it and that they were rapidly coming towards her. Fortunately, the distances involved meant that the shockwave had lost much of its energy when it eventually reached her, and what remained was easy to repel with Melantha's powers.

However, that didn't mean that the goddess was not curious about the origins of this event. On the contrary, an event of such proportions must have surely been the doing of one of the other deities. "The question is, which one?"

---

---

Finally arriving back at her Sphere did take some time, but Melantha did not really mind the silence that accompanied interspheral travel. It allowed her to ponder on things that she would otherwise not have the time or will to think about, like the Architect's plans for example. She had vowed to herself that she would not bother with the Architect more and instead focus on her own self and what she wanted to do with her time in this universe, but that was obviously not the case.

The goddess sat on the edge of the, now flat, mountain peak of Norsvold's former tallest mountain. With her legs dangling over the edge, Melantha laid back, bringing her arms up to form a cushion for her head. A deeply conflicted look hid behind the blindfold she had donned as she thought about her actions since her summoning to the Architect's realm.

She should not have so blatantly ignored potential threats to her existence in the forms of other deities. While she had been focusing on the Architect and his hidden agenda, Asceal and Aelius had already started scheming against her.

"But those words..." Thinking back to what Aelius had told her during their brief interchange, Melantha could not help but feel the fire that was her anger reignite. Contribution? He would talk about their "contribution" that was light as if it was the most essential thing for the universe's function but did not even spare a thought about her own contribution of darkness, and how their creation fundamentally opposed everything that Melantha stood for. He even had the audacity to say she was offended by it when offended could not even qualify as a negative feeling when compared to all the other feelings that Melantha had been drowning in at that point in time.

Pain, terror, disgust, apprehension, wrath. The list went on and on, and truly, had Asceal been the sole perpetrator behind the creation of that detestable light beam, Melantha did not know if she would have been able to restrain herself from escalating the situation beyond what could be salvaged. Apart from the fact that Melantha would have to face off against two deities, she also realised another thing the moment Aelius' divine essence came in contact with her seed of power; the Sphere she had attacked had not actually been Asceal's Sphere, but Aelius'. "Why would they place that thing in Aelius' Sphere and not Asceal's? This does not make any sense..."

Melantha clutched her head as she felt a sharp pain shoot through her once more. The headaches had been getting worse and worse as time passed, and Melantha had an idea why. Her inquisitive mind was clashing with her purpose, the reason for her existence that had been imprinted upon her soul by the Architect. To bring darkness was her prerogative, Melantha saw no inherent fault in it. What she did not like, however, was the forceful nature in which such a purpose had been thrust upon her, as well as the cryptic responses she received from the Architect when she questioned him on his reason why he'd summoned her, when her reason for existing had nothing to do with creation or managing and populating his universe. "And it's not only me..."

No, Melantha also thought about certain other deities that she shared this predicament with. The tentacled deity, Anzillu; the desolate one, Orvus; strife personified, Narzhak. Those were but a few that fit the bill. The headache intensified once more. No matter how much she thought about it, she could not make out what was going on.

So she chose to forget. Forget everything that had happened, that will happen. Forgetting was easier said than done, however. The mind of a god was a complex thing that would take time to completely decipher, but fortunately for her, a potential shortcut had appeared in the form of another deity's creation.

Melantha raised her hand, spreading her fingers wide and from within her palm, a small grey bead emerged. At first glance, this bead was nothing more than a grey, circular rock. But upon closer inspection, one would discover that it was actually ash, compacted tightly in the form of a bead. Melantha had recently noticed this kind of ash passing through the boundaries of her Sphere and had thus collected some to analyze, mainly out of curiosity. So one could imagine her surprise upon realizing that the ash had actually been burned down soul essence. What clued her to this was the fact that the ash faintly emitted energy that was familiar to her, the same kind of energy she had felt from the torrent of souls she had accompanied on her way to the Architect's universe, back when she had also been nothing more than a soul drifting in the endless Beyond.

Following her discovery, Melantha exited her Sphere and started searching for the origin of the soul ash, and she soon came upon another deity's Sphere, Katharsos'. That moment exactly was the moment Melantha decided on her plan of action. To forget meant to let go, but letting go entailed losing everything.

Melantha absorbed the ash back inside her body and stood up. Right there on the edge of the cliff, the dark goddess stood, and although she could not see the sheer height of the drop in front of her with her own two eyes, she could feel the emptiness.

---

---

”And where are illusions, dreams, and stories displayed?” Eurysthenes said. Millions of thoughts swirled between them, like a whirlpool of creativity. This one bathed it's being in this pool to absorb what it could of that which it was offering.
”Let's think big, for what do small dreams accomplish? Answer me this: what pops to the senses, but is impossible to find? What is corporeal, but prevents movement as well as any cage? What shifts and changes when you pay attention to it? And what, given all of the above, is very real?” This One said, as the whirlpool of thoughts grew.

K'nell stared blankly at Eurysthenes for a moment and then all at once an image appeared to both gods, floating as a tangible dream between the two. It showed a mighty continent, swirling like a mighty vortex with many moving arms. Limbo was hidden at the center, and the further away from this stable epicenter, the bizarre took place. Mountains and hills shifted like ever changing parts of a puzzle, rivers never made it to the ocean, landmarks appeared and disappeared, even footprints followed no set law, appearing in any direction, anywhere except where they should have. Thoughts were expelled from the visitors mind and made into confusing reality, the very continent shifted like a dream.

K'nell stared at the thought between the two, “a cradle.”

The image began to shift as Eurysthenes reached in. The Vortex peels upwards, standing vertical, before splitting in the center to make 2. Each slumped from the other, crashing back down and fitting together, moving one another like gears. One vortex boasted The Staircase at the center, the other had Limbo. And while they were physically far from each other, there was a space between them where the hands of the island shifted to create a serene stillness where one might find peace.

”If ‘a cradle’ is your answer, you are not correct in answering the riddle, but this which we are envisioning is not far from just that,” This One said, gazing into the vision which seemed so real. ”What The Sea Tells Legends of. Swahhitteh.”

K'nell watched the two vortices swirl against each other, their landscapes ever changing and yet the constant movement provided a delicate stability where the arms of the vortices meshed and unmeshed rhythmically.

“Swahhitteh…” K'nell repeated, “Tendlepog.”

Slowly the vision of the land rose to the sky. The painting of a land of dreams, puzzles and illusions faded away. K'nell turned to Eurysthenes and as he did, he outstretched his hand, letting a small orb of power float away from him and between the two gods. This orb cackled and pulsed with the chaotic whims of creation, threatening at any second to explode into a primordial storm.

In turn, This One reached within itself and found what was needed: a maelstrom of shifting colours, writhing around each other like formless snakes. It had these worming colours come forth from its body and seep into the orb that K’nell had created. Within the orb they tangled and reformed into the dual spiral of this new continent: Swahhitte Tendlepog

This writhing spiral of pure creation suddenly clapped and exploded into a myriad of powerful colours. The ocean was torn and whipped into a fury as all faded into a bright white mess. Slowly the salty waves rained back down into the ocean below as a calm rain, but not all the water made it back to the realm of Ashalla. Some collected on the new landmass, an evermoving continent.

K’nell and Eurysthenes now stood atop fresh ground, an ever shifting mountain range surrounding them and Limbo. One mountain would move out of the way, and another would take its place with a slow grind. K’nells smile grew at the sight, clearly amused. The God of sleep and the God of puzzles both knew that not all they saw belonged to the realm of physics, but also their own. A land of dreams, puzzles and illusions, all mixed into Galbar stood before them, ready for them to craft.

“A new civilization shall thrive here when the time comes,” K’nell declared, the voice echoing off the stone faces with ambition. He turned to Eurysthenes, “one that will give purpose.”

”In the time between then and now we make this cradle… comfortable,” Eurysthenes said. The twin islands shifted around each other like gears, throwing waves from the shore. By its very nature, it shifted in and out of focus, and, at times, completely disappeared from view.

”We have made something beautiful, K’nell,” This One said, awestruck.

K'nell simply smiled.

Orvus was singular in his thoughts, the pull towards his sphere far to intense for any other minor inconvenience to distract him. But space was fraught with peril, and Orvus had the uncanny ability to find himself at the threshold of peril. By chance, or curiosity, Orvus turned his head around to gaze upon his passenger, Seihdhara. She was fast asleep, the red hair still attaching her to him, much like a towing service. To this, he was not angry or even slightly annoyed, for why care about such a small thing. It was the least he could do, after she had let him feel. However, something else caught his attention in the depths behind them.

A crystal, fast approaching, and as large as his asteroid. It was coming right for them, so the God stopped in his path and turned around fully. He did not really want to be hit by it, for it would surely carry him towards Galbar, and that was one place he did not want to go yet. His sister proved to be a problem however. Orvus was tempted to leave her there, but a part of him did not want to be so cruel to the one who had showed him pain. As such, he grabbed hold of her arms and pulled her closer to himself. His touch would not wake her, for her slumber was deserved.

He cocked his head, his eyes devoid of any expression as he spoke to her.

_{Fare… Thee… Well. Sister…} he whispered the goodbye, before letting go of Seihdhara, to where they faced each other. He gave a tug on her fiery string, and it let go of him. Then Orvus, using his strength, shoved her away from him. The momentum would carry both him and Seihdhara out of the way of the crystal, and as he watched her grow distant, the crystal came roaring by, carrying Narzhak. The crystal’s momentum further flung them apart, and when it was finally over, Orvus searched for her, but found nothing. He turned away, and began his final approach to his sphere.

---

He knew not how long it had been, but suddenly a great light shown out in the darkness, bathing the Galbar in warmth and illuminating the darkness of space. He looked towards the source of such a power, and saw Heliopolis in the distance. He knew his brother’s name immediately, and it was Aelius, for he had created the sun. His eyes expressed disapproval, for there had been nothing wrong with the dark. It had always felt more like a home to him then this… light. But in the end, it mattered not to Orvus how bright it would be. What he would create, there would be no place for warmth, or for the prying eyes of light.

Suddenly, a far brighter flash of light brokered his attention towards Galbar, and it took him a moment to fully realize what he was witnessing. It was his asteroid, and it had finally completed it’s labor. So Orvus paused in his pursuit, and watched the destruction he and his sister had born. He took note of the meteors damage, how it blotted the sky with dust, how it had broken the clouds away from the epicenter. A pang of pride shot throughout him, before dispersing. He knew right away he would have to visit the place of the impact, but not now. One day.

Satisfied once more, he continued on his journey.

As he traveled, Orvus was blissfully unaware of the happenings upon Galbar, or the feud between his celestial siblings and Melantha’s strike upon Heliopolis. He knew not the life within his Eye of Desolation, or the metal he had willed into existence. Nor would he have cared for such developments. None of truly mattered, for he had at last found his sphere in the emptiness of space.

But Orvus was a beacon for calamity, and not long after arriving, did he bear witness to the Lustrous Garden exploding. Such an explosion riveted Orvus to the spot he floated in. He cocked his head and watched as the debris field grew and grew, racing forever outwards. It had been Asceal’s sphere, but Orvus did not know why it had exploded. He felt something amiss, some soft connection to the tragedy, but he did not understand how, or why.

Instead, he pushed it from his mind as his curiosity for the debris took focus. A small sliver raced past him, but at the last second Orvus caught it. He held the small sliver in his hands, the glow faint, like a perpetually dying heart. For some odd reason, he felt sad. It was such a small sliver, lost to the void of space. Forever alone. Perhaps it was the fact Asceal had imprinted upon him her light, or some other odd, unknowable feeling.

It would be alone if left to drift, he knew, as a stark reminder of what could have been. Yet that didn’t mean it couldn’t have purpose. With the sliver in hand, he looked at Galbar, far closer now then he had ever been. The sliver of crystal was wasted here in his sphere, it truly did not belong, but Galbar beckoned.

Orvus then threw the crystal at the planet, where it would end up, he did not know. Nor did he care, but something told him it would find purpose there. And as he watched it go, with it went his sadness. A cold clarity took over, one of purpose beyond anything he had ever felt.

He turned back to his desolate sphere, it was time to create the moon.

---

He had to show them, his siblings, that he could create. His purpose would not be defined but what he was, but by what he was capable of doing. Orvus would show them how much better he truly was, of how insignificant their own creations would be compared to his own. This he knew, without a doubt, to be true. It had to be. Why else would he exist? The questions that haunted him since the moment of his arrival would be answered. His deliverance would be finally secured. All he had to do, was create the greatest of all spheres. A task, he was prepared for.

Slowly Orvus struck out his hand at the emptiness before him. He did not hesitate in the slightest, so sure he was of his purpose, and thus began to will into existence Veradax. His sphere. His dominion of control. A place where he could know peace once more. It was a perfect name.

Veradax came with his beckoning, slowly but surely from the nothingness of space. Molecule by molecule, pebble to stone, packing together to form density and weight. Crushing everything together to form a fledgling core under the immense pressure.

Orvus could feel the labor beginning to take its toll upon his strength but he did not falter in his work. Veradax would be completed, it would grow to be mighty. With renewed vigor, Orvus sent forth more of his power, and the young moon began to grow in size. It would be larger than anything thus forth in creation besides Galbar itself. Larger than even the Lustrous Garden had been, greater than even Heliopolis. Or so he would believe.

Yet, Orvus began to grow weary still, his arm growing heavy, but still he pushed on with fanatical obsession. The moon began to take upon an assortment of greys in color, from light to dark and still yet black. But Orvus realized the black that covered parts of his sphere were clouds, etched with scarlet lightning. This lightning pulsed, like a heartbeat. It was almost as if Veradax was alive. Yes, Orvus realized, alive. A living moon, his… child.

The god began to feel his life force wane, and this deeply troubled him Orvus. He was torn by a choice. Veradax was so close to completion, he could sense it. Yet he also knew such completion would be his death. So Orvus hesitated, and in that brief moment his hand fell, the connection broke. His eyes went wide with worry, but as he gazed upon Veradax, nothing happened. Any who looked up in that moment would have seen the full glory and splendor of the new moon. So he relaxed with ease, he had done it. He felt...He felt… relieved, almost jo-

A giant crack ripped through the Eastern Hemisphere of Veradax, splintering into thousands of smaller, more grotesque fractures. His relief washed away in an instant, and Orvus watched with horror as more and more rifts appeared upon the surface. He realized then, that his child was ripping itself apart. Without thinking, he raced towards the moon, wanting nothing more then to fix what was happening. To make it whole again.

As he drew closer, the crust began to break, revealing the dim glow of the core. Like fiery veins but on a magnitude far greater than anything seen before in the fledgling universe. Then the moon began to scream a sickening sound of pain and anguish, like boulders grinding on another without end, as more and more of the half split.

Orvus was so close, so very close but in the end, it would never have been enough. The moon went silent, then the half that was broken, shattered into millions of pieces. There was a bright light, not as intense as the Lustrous Garden’s explosion, but at the same time, such a cataclysm was far closer to Galbar. Orvus was caught in the blast as his child died before him. An inescapable torrent of flame bathed him in the fire of death for several moments, only for the god to collide with the debris field as it rocketed outwards, going in every direction. All celestial spheres would have a taste of the moon and its properties, chief among these spheres was Galbar.

The skies would rain for weeks with moon fall, most would burn up in the atmosphere, but the larger chunks would make landfall and for time immemorial, the cycle would continue. For the Sphere of Desolation had been created at last, and would exist until it was no longer needed.

The God of Desolation gave up as the fire died. Orvus shut his eyes as he let himself be swallowed up by his greatest failure. He was hit, crushed, and smacked aside more times then he could fathom. But at long last, one rock claimed him for its own and they took a journey together. Its destination was Galbar, along with a thousand Lunar Meteors, streaming down like fiery tears. His bit of the moon had him prisoner, he was pinned against the flat side as it plummeted towards Galbar. Just like him however, the piece of moon was unstable, and so broke apart in the atmosphere. Unable to do anything about his current predicament, Orvus fell further, letting the freefall carry him where it pleased. For he felt nothing and yet everything all at once, and he was haunted by the memory so fresh in his mind, of the moon’s explosion. He was crippled by inaction, and he hated himself because of it.

He plunged through the Blue, Azura’s sphere, bringing destruction and sorrow in his wake. His body obliterated a floating island as if it were nothing, sending rocks scattering about. Also with him was fire, and he unintentionally murdered countless creatures of the unique ecosystem that called the Blue home. They vaporized instantly, the only mercy they had was not having to feel the pain. Like a candle being blown out, all that remained of them was smoke in the wind. And then the haze of Galbar became clearer and Orvus broke through his sister’s sphere with a sound like thunder.

Orvus strained to open his eyes at the sound, but he was engulfed with fire and he was tired. So very tired. As he spun about, he could see what waited for him below- a deeper blue. The ocean. That wasn’t so bad, he thought weakly, but it would still hurt.

---

His impact was deafening, and forced the very water away from him, before it consumed his flaming body with a great hiss. The ocean then settled itself, and like before, it was as if nothing had ever happened. No great tsunamis would wrack the globe this time around, just the eb and flow of water as the sky rained fire.

As the calamity continued up above, Orvus sank like a lifeless statue. Watching the light of the day fade into inky blackness. The Desolate One could only think of his failure, and his thoughts devoured his will for action.

So he sank and when he finally hit the cold sea floor, Orvus shut his eyes. His lights faded one by one, and when he was indiscernible from the black water, sleep at last overtook him.

And his dreams would become nightmares.

Phystene gazed up at the sky as the Lustrous Garden was torn asunder. A bright light spread throughout the sky, only to slowly fade away, leaving the Eye of Desolation in twilight as Heliopolis, the remaining source of light for Galbar, fell below the horizon. As the world turned dark, bright streaks of light tore through the sky, fragments of the once brilliant garden burning up in Galbar’s atmosphere.

“Oh. Ooooooh. Ooooooooooh.” Was all Phystene could say as she watched the spectacle play out above her. “Oh crap.” Now there was only one source of light left on Galbar. And if the Lustrous Garden could be destroyed, so could Heliopolis. Who would want to destroy the Lustrous Garden and would they seek to do the same to Heliopolis? Perhaps more importantly what could Phystene do to protect life on Galbar? She needed to spread and diversify life. And fast.

Her gaze shifted towards the horizon where she had felt another deity wield their immense power. Perhaps another landmass had been formed? It was something Phystene needed to check out. She gave the island and her new jungle one final look before heading towards where she believed a new landmass would be. She could have used some of her power to fly, but instead chose to be economical and instead simply run over the water. She would probably need every ounce of strength she could muster in the days to come.

As she ran she gave the matter of the destruction of the Lustrous Garden further thought. She felt certain that neither Parvus nor Kalmar were behind it. If anything they had only to lose from its destruction. She had not spoken to Ashalla, Azura, or Kirron, but none of them struck her as the type to destroy another deity’s domain, at least not so early and without provocation. Chopstick Eyes… could have been behind it. Her portfolio was one of greed and Phystene could imagine her destroying the Lustrous Garden so that she could try and somehow sell light or some such nonsense. But… that theory didn’t pan out. Chopstick Eyes would have to destroy Heliopolis as well for that to be feasible and there was no way waging war on two deities could be profitable. Orvus, the god of Desolation, and Narzhak, the god of war, both might have reason to attack the Lustrous Garden, if for no reason other than to spread destruction and conflict. Still if anyone truly had any reason to attack a source of light, it was Melantha. Melantha attacking the Lustrous Garden was, truthfully, predictable, especially given that it along with Heliopolis had chased darkness away from all of Galbar.

“How foolish could we have been?” Phystene mentally kicked herself. Now the question was had Melantha lashed out because there had been unending light or because she despised light itself? The first meant she could be reasoned with, the second would forever put her at odds with Phystene and the other nature deities. Phystene would have to meet with Melantha and ascertain the truth at some point, but first thing was first.

It had been several hours since she had left the Eye of Desolation and during her musings she had traveled quite the distance. And now what lay before her was not further ocean but what she had been seeking. A new landmass.

“Impressive.” She couldn’t help but utter as the sheer scale of the continent that lay before dawned on her. The continent stretched further than the eye could see and Phystene didn’t even bother slowing down as she made landfall. She wanted to see just how big it was.

After a few hours she had gotten a very good idea of what the continent was like. In a word: boring. It was rock and rock and more rock. Oh and a random river of blood that ran through most of the continent. Because why wouldn’t that be a thing? Or perhaps calling it a river of ichor would be more fitting as Phystene could sense it possessed a divine nature.

“Why are my peers so weird?” Phystene couldn’t help but mutter before deciding to just ignore the ichor river for the moment.

Phystene lightly tapped her foot on the rock beneath her as she considered the continent. There wasn’t all that much she could do with a continent made up purely of rock, so she would first have to change that. And he previous world possessed the perfect tool to do so. She placed her hand on the rock beneath her and let loose some of her power. A single speck of green appeared beneath her hand and quickly began spreading to all the rock around it. The small plant soon covered rock as far as the eye could see and beyond, spreading all across the continent, covering every inch of it except an area roughly a mile around the river of ichor. Phystene wanted nothing to do with that river for now.

The plant was called lichen. It was a simple plant, but one that was perfectly suited to this new continent. From her previous world Phystene knew that lichen were hardy organisms. They could survive basically any and everywhere, from the artic to deserts. And survive on anything, capable of growing on or between rocks and even growing on nothing at all, surviving as they were blown about the environment. In a word they were the perfect plants to survive on Galbar till the other deities got their acts together. And just as importantly they aided in the weathering of rocks, slowly turning boulders into usable soil. In her old world it had taken a… really long time for them to do so, but with the help of the World Tree the process would be expedited. At least to some degree.

But this continent needed something more. Something to help with the weathering process. She would create a new species of animal and, unlike the creatures at the Eye of Desolation, this animal wouldn’t be a copy of something from her original world. It would be an original creation. But what to make? She wanted something that would turn rock into soil and, later on, help keep the soil nutritious for plants. It would be a worm of some kind, but one unlike any that she had ever encountered alone. First she took a normal earthworm and enlarged it till it was several meters in length. She then began changing its structure, giving it bones and a functioning jaw strong enough to crush even granite. She then altered its digestive system to allow it to break down rock. Lichen and moss that would grow on its back would also help the worm do this. She then granted the worm sharp teeth that her harder than the strongest steel. While large molars would be better to grind rock down, the sharp teeth would allow it to break bone, meaning it could also act as a scavenger once other animals appeared on the continent as well as help it fend off predators later on. Even with their strength the act of chewing on rocks would wear the teeth down, so Phystene designed it so the teeth would regularly fall out and be replaced with new teeth. With all that done Phystene stepped back from her creation and gave it a critical look.

The worm was… well to be frank it was fairly ugly. It was, however, exactly what she wanted in function if no form. It would do for now. Later on, once their was fertile soil, Phystene could focus on creating plants and animals of beauty. Content with her creation, Phystene used her power to create more of them and jumpstart their population. The worms wasted little time, burrowing into the rock with ease. They, allow with the lichen she had already created, would surely turn the barren continent into a fertile land.

With that done Phystene could now focus on the matter of Melantha and the other reckless deities. But what exactly would she do?

And as she had that thought Phystene noticed a glow appearing in the night sky. It wasn’t quite as brilliant as when the Lustrous Garden exploded, but it was quite bright. Phystene looked up as a moon, which certainly hadn’t been there before, tore in two. One half remain in orbit as the other half crumbled into small fragments that began to fall towards Galbar.

“Oh for the love of-“

---

…

’What-’

Li’Kalla wiped the slight bit of drool on her lips and looked around, blinking rapidly.

She was sitting on the steps leading up to the Manor. Everything looked the same as she remembered, including the unassuming box half-covered in sand. For some reason, she shivered when her eyes looked at the box, so she tried to ignore it. Instead, she twisted her body to look at the large, intimidating doors to the Manor. They had never been opened before, but she knew what was behind… A story, a life that had cast her out a long, long time ago.

Images flashed through her eyes.

A handsome young man handing a beautifully wrapped present to her.

An older woman kneeling in front of Li and smiling warmly at her.

A grand ball, with elegant guests and all kinds of foods.

A body, hanging in its bedroom, looking directly at her…

’No!’ Li shut her eyes tightly and covered her ears. After a moment of not seeing any more images, she sighed and looked up at the cloudy skies of her Sphere.

”’I’m sorry’, huh? Yes… So’E. That’s your name, the So’E. What I always wanted to have…” She took in a deep breath, smelling the humid air. ”It’s so desolate in here, just like I imagined. I hate it.” She felt her lip quiver, but forced herself to stay calm. ”I hate it so much…”



Quite a bleak sight, Li’Kalla thought. Standing on the rim of the Gateway to the So’E, the Goddess looked out at the horizon which was slightly blurred by the mist produced by the fresh clouds.

An endless expanse of water as far as the divine eye could see. This was the first time she’d been on Galbar, and she wasn’t impressed. Still, being here, she felt that much closer to everyone else. It was an interesting feeling, certainly. Not one to be elated about, though. The other Gods were… Strange.

She pursed her lips and turned her gaze to the ocean below the Gateway. Sitting down on the marble rim, she closed her eyes and extended her arms downward towards the ocean. In her mind, she willed forth an island, a large one capable of housing a small world. A pang of pain shot through her head.

When she opened her eyes, there was nothing there. Just ocean.

”It’s more difficult here.”

She closed her eyes again, picturing in her mind what the island would look like once finished. Picturing the animals frolicking, the bees buzzing, the plants caressing the pillars of temples, the people-

Again she felt pain. She tried to hold her head together as it felt like it was about to split open. She gagged and felt nauseous.

In the middle of her internal struggle, she never heard the waters part way for land. When she lost her balance and fell a few metres from the Gateway to the So’E, she never expected to hit something soft.

Sand.



She was tired. Who knew it would be so taxing, creating a simple island while being a God?

She sat on the shores of her new Island, eyes drooping closed as if she were about to fall asleep. She wasn’t sleepy.

Her hands grabbed fistfuls of the wet sand and immediately dropped them. Over and over again.

Who knew, really? That with all this power, creation would be so difficult.

Maybe that’s why, maybe that’s why the Gods never came to help her…

”Maybe that’s why…”

This soul was different.

In the mess of screaming, wailing, gibbering souls, in the cacophony of self-righteous announcers, tyrannical dictators, energetic orators; this soul - it was different. It was not so much that it was less or more rambunctious than the others - indeed, it did not shout the less or lash out with inferior fury as an ethereal soul now latched onto an arm or an impish spryte seated itself atop its head or yet another took grip of its naked leg and hugged it for dear life. And no, it was not the mere fact that, unlike others, this soul did not leave a flaking trail of soul-stuff in its wake - though that was indeed rather notable if not entirely unique. No, the most immediately noticeable difference was as a bristling flame, white and orange and red all at once. And yet it was not simple as a bristling fire, this soul actually aflame. And so as she swatted the impertinent souls that thought to latch onto her, all that she touched swiftly burned away in pain and glee. Indeed, seeing in her a far swifter salvation than the lengthy way to the Pyres above, they all gravitated about her, tearing and pulling and lurching and biting to touch her - hotly they came, fired their gleeful cries and passed; hotly charged and broke at last! And ultimately - ultimately they disappeared. But between the tug of the Vortex and the pulling and tearing and resolute charging of her fellow souls, Seihdhara could hardly think up or muster an escape. And so even as she fought with all her fury (which was, admittedly, far inferior to what she remembered herself capable of) she ascended ever higher and ever closer to the Pyre. And even as she looked to the fires above, and even as she burned endlessly she could not help but wonder - could... could that which was already aflame be set aflame? Perhaps it was the one cohesive thought she mustered in between the frantic get off mes and not there you don't you cheeky buggers, though she knew not from where the thought came or from where the sense of deep and growing unease emanated.

So it was that Seidhara was raised up, up and above Galbar and all of those lower celestial planes that hovered just above it likes halos. Her spirit passed the boughs of the World Tree - and she looked upon the enormous thing and was filled with awe. And she determined that she would visit this place in time and make herself a great tree also so that she could show it to that Twigirl. Yes, she liked trees. A lot. And as the World Tree disappeared from sight, the breathtaking remnants of Asceal's shattered comet emerged, and beyond it the cold emptiness of space. And Seihdhara looked at the shards all over the place and the destruction, and she knew that it had been from here that the crystals that struck her came. It seemed to her somewhat callous of Buzzkill Sealy to create an explosion like that just so there could be some light and fireworks. But also surprising! Maybe she was not so uptight after all! And even as she thought this, the invisible force that pulled at her refused to yield. She was dragged ever closer to the distant stars, and she felt the grim aura of the Sky of Pyres growing in her mind and heart as it pulled her closer at an ever increasing speed. Here, after being swept away by the currents for so long, the gaps between her soul and those of the maddened others began to grow. Soon the space was such that she batted off the last of them and there were no more within close enough reach to scramble onto or claw at her, though a few dozen were still travelling close enough for her to vividly see.

Another difference between her own fiery spirit and those of these other souls soon became clear: the crumbling spirits were experiencing far greater forces. Horrific ripping resulted here or there when they tried too hard to fight the Vortex. All of them were dragged directly towards some of the nearest stars. But as for Seihdhara, the tug was not so overpowering that she was utterly unable to steer. It was like she was caught in a river that was dragging her towards her inevitable end where downstream there was a fateful waterfall. Struggling against the mighty current to go back upstream was ultimately futile, but she could still swim left or right and choose just where she fell. There were many stars nearby with different hues and intensities, and then there were of course great black voids between the lights, where nothing drifted save for strange clouds.

Seihdhara did not like the look of those great black voids in the slightest, and so steered herself gently towards the closest of the lights. As she approached she saw that they appeared to be - as she already knew on a level - great fires into which the souls were being swept in by updrafts. Huge billowing plumes of dark vapor emerged from the flames and surrounded the pyres as smoky coronas, and something flaky to the touch yet nearly imperceptible was wafting everywhere here--ashes. There did not seem to be much choice involved for these spirits being incinerated. At first, Seihdhara did not know whose work this was, for the essence that she felt and the hand that was at work in all of this was not one she had crossed before. But as she cast her memory back to her entrance into this world, she vaguely recalled the gods she had not met but of whom the Ugly Old Ogre had impregnated her mind with knowledge. What was his name? K-Ky-Kha-Kho…

She frowned deeply and began to exhibit a greater degree of resistance to the flow, swimming slowly but surely to whatever shore this torrential flow had. Aye, she did not like the look of those black voids in the slightest, but she utterly despised being unable to make her own way, being pulled along whether she liked it or not towards whatever lay at the end of this all. And so she pushed away from the pull and and made for the darkness. And yes, there was something not quite comforting about that darkness, but at least it was her choice to head there. No pull, no matter how overpowering, would be forcing her anywhere. She was the absolute master of herself wherever she went and however she was and in whatever state she found herself. Eventually she found that she was coated in darkness and free, her burning soul freer now than it had been since being torn away from her body. Here and there she heard a whisper, but Seihdhara was not afraid. Still, she was no fool and, throwing her hand outwards, a great gleaming soul-blade appeared.

Safe for now upon the dark and empty ‘shore’, she watched on as more and more of the maddened and broken souls were dragged forth and condemned to the flames. Upon closer examination, those flames within the massive pyres were not at all like any mundane fire she’d ever seen before, nor even like her hair! Like the dead souls themselves, these flames did not breathe. And Seihdhara did not understand it. She did not understand what had caused these souls to become like this and what had caused this fire to… well, it was dead. A dead fire. The very thought of it was horrifying, but seeing it with the eyes of the soul as she did now sent a slithering coldness through her, and it was like no cold she had ever felt. A small eddy of smoke wafted toward her, but where she had naturally expected to feel some warmth she instead felt nothing. The light of her radiant soul dimmed just a bit as the smoke passed through her. And she knew in that instant that the fire - that fire there - promised a truer death than simply being flung from her body. To step into that would be the true end of Seihdhara - but for now, why! She yet lived!

And though everything screamed at her to leave this place at once, her curiosity and horror had been piqued. She wanted to know what had caused these souls to become like this. She wanted to know why they were being flung into the dead flames. Even this smoke - what was it? Her soul-blade in hand (though she did not know whether it could protect her against what this place had), she ventured forth and looked. And her eyes were quick to find the greatest flame. It drew her like nothing else, but she resisted and thought that to go anywhere near it would surely be lethal. But then she smirked, and without a second thought she flung herself forth and headed right for the great dead eye.

Traversing that void between the stars took time. As she drifted closer and closer to the greatest and brightest of all the star-pyres, she had time to contemplate her choice. Great nebulous clouds of smoke and ash stood in her path, but in this ethereal form she passed through them unimpeded. Finally, as she came nearly upon the star, she witnessed a colossal head of fire. The visage was a twisting bestial thing, filled with all the furies innate to the flame. The great head of flame did not seem to see her, busy as it was staring deep into the howling depths of that gigantic star, but on seeing it Seihdhara knew him immediately.

Oh! I know you now, she muttered to herself, you’re that... that Cat-head! Seihdhara declared once her slight surprise at seeing the fiery feline head had subsided. So you’re the one who did all this? And as she spoke she surged towards him until the far larger god was right before her. Why are they all so broken? She asked candidly, and this place and all of it - it all seems horrible! The fires, the souls, the smoke - something is very wrong. Why? She looked at the great head for some time, her question lingering between them. But there was no response and Seihdhara had the distinct feeling that the other god had not quite registered her presence, his eyes fixed on the great star-pyre before them. He seemed to be muttering something to himself, but Seihdhara could not quite make it out and, being a soul, she could neither nudge nor pull at her sibling to get his attention. Indeed, despite her flamboyant colour and fiery nature, it seemed like he only registered her distantly as yet another soul waiting to burn. Shaking the soul-blade in her hand into dust away, she surveyed the countless souls being sweeped willing and unwilling into the dread dead flame. She watched them, silently, for longer than she cared to count. Shedding themselves and weeping, crying out for an end - and yet... no, she could not say they were alive, the shadows of life perhaps - and yet…

There came to her then the image of her body, shattered and broken. Falling like a battered ragdoll away, all fire, all dignity, all strength… gone like ash blowing off in the aftermath of the firestorm. She trembled at the memory of that terrible unliving - joyless - husk. And the husk was gone but she - why, she yet lived! It throbbed within her, ceaselessly, stubbornly, with a fury and rage, with an eternal fervour and vigour, with an excitement that whispered - that urgently pitched - for her to go, just go! Now! And she trembled once more, but not out of cold or horror, but so great was the fire that wished to be loosed. She needed to do something - this life. Clenching and unclenching her ethereal fists wildly, Seihdhara looked back at the near-but-oh-so-distant Cat-head and knew that there was nothing in that vacant head for her. Not now anyhow, for this god was elsewhere, preoccupied utterly in a world entirely different where she could neither reach him nor he hear her. And so she reached out - carefully, oh so carefully - and fished a soul from the impossible surge. It cried out and burned under her fiery touch, and she realised that it was not crying out in pain - not entirely at least. But he burned slowly - slower far than he would have burned in the pyre - and so she had the chance to inspect him, look into him, observe his innards more closely.

Yes. Life. This was the stuff it was made of. Without this the husk was nothing - all the strength, all the great martial feats. They all started here at the wellspring of each individual life. Were they separate then?- the husk and the soul, that was. Or was there more? She looked more closely at the soul in her grasp, but only twisted her nose at the strange way in which even as he burned bits and pieces were peeling away. And she knew then that burning was in fact a mercy, for this soul was ill and dying slowly - oh so slowly! But why? And no amount of staring into him, or the one after him, or the one after her, would grant Seihdhara an answer. Tell me! She finally demanded in exasperation, grabbing yet another soul. She screeched and clawed at the goddess’ face as the flame-souled mistress of battle questioned and demanded again and again.
TELL YOU WHAATT?! The burning soul at last screeched, gasping beneath the effort of summoning coherent thoughts and sculpting them into words that left her ethereal, ever-shifting, throat.
Why? Why are you fading away? Why are you… dying. The soul looked at her wide-eyed, unable to understand or comprehend the question.
Am...am I… alive? Seihdhara scoffed at the question.
Don’t you know? You are life! The soul seemed only perplexed by this.
But...how can that… be… it managed as it slipped away from Seihdhara’s grasp and disappeared into the illusory torrents. Indeed, how could it be? How could it be when they were all so devoid of life. And for all their emptiness they all still held onto different forms, onto… Seihdhara’s eyes lit up and she smiled faintly.

Memories.

She looked up at the smoke, and she knew it for what it was now. Knew why it had left her cold. The remnants of life, black and formless. There were no memories there, nothing at all. She rose up to it then, her eyes distant and withdrawn. And for a moment there the smoke of the greatest of the sky-pyres seemed to her a great obsidian bear, the light of the fire reflected beneath it as red flowing water.



And she who was and had always been Seihdhara suddenly knew the Bear Over Red Water. And all distance and pensiveness left her and her soul-eyes were filled with wonder and glee, and if souls could cry then Seihdhara shed tears. And the flames about her grew ponderously large and took on a heat that defied the wintry death of the flames of the sky-pyre. She extended a single ethereal flaming hand, she smiled. And her brother saw her then.
It is given you, all of you, by the Bear Over Red Water. And it was a momentary thing only, but for that moment a nebulous flame-red hue seemed to wash across the velvet fabric of heaven, awash as it was with pearly stars. Seihdhara looked below, and Cat-head looked above, and there was a silencing of souls then. The goddess with soul aflame grinned. You had a good idea Cat-head. But this isn’t the solution. The question is why do they peel. You do your thing - but me, I’ll find out! And so saying, the goddess turned and surged off with the billowing smoke into the endlessness of the void and- ah. That was a funny looking seal there! Only, rather than drawing closer to it, Seihdhara found that she was very suddenly being drawn back. Furrowing her brows and blinking in confusion, she looked behind her to find that the gaping maw of the dread pyre was yawning after her and growing larger by the second.

That… was not good.

As she had done before, she made for the shore - if one could call it thus - and escaped the relentless tug, leaping back into the dark clouds. Once there, she dashed off again with greater determination and fury. Her speed was greater than the star could hope to pull helpless souls into its cavernous maw. And yet, just as the strange red seal came into sight once more and freedom was within grasp, she found herself drawn back yet again. Frustrated, she fought free of the flow yet another time and gave an irritated flaming fucktwit. It was quite apparent that this place drew souls in whether they wanted it or not, and no exertions on her part would allow her to fly free…

Unless…

Her head turned abruptly until she found the form of not-so-talkative Cat-head again. Surely he would know how she could free herself of the insistent pull of this place. Without further thought, she rushed down towards him and shouted his name so loud that every soul round every star could hear it. But in truth that was merely her being her excitable self, for it was to the mind of the lord of death that she spoke and not to his ears. Your help, death god! I need it. Wake up.



He knew now that all judgement founds its roots in ignorance and assumption. In the depths of the inferno before him were the ghostly vestiges of liars, traitors, thieves. Murderers. All of the ‘evil’ and ‘degenerate’ scum that other gods might have been wont to judge harshly, but not Katharsos.

How could he judge them when their every thought and moment were laid bare before his eyes, unravelling one by one as the memories were committed to flame and smoke? To look into the depths of the flame was to empathize with the dead in a way that he would never be able to empathize with any who yet lived. These souls needed no punishment, and Katharsos needed no explanation or apology from them; everyone was just a product of happenstance, a leaf caught adrift on the currents of a stream. Life was their blissful, or tragic, or wild, or calm journey down that river.

And death was equality.

_{death god}

A faint echo roused the lord of death and made him break his gaze away from the depths of the flame. He turned from the great pyre, only to see another flame. He might have squinted closer to see if it were merely one of his other distant pyres (for at this time there were many ablaze, and he could not hope to watch over them all at once) but the hue of her flame made such a determination easy. This was no pyre, for the flames in this little spark still had a flickering heartbeat, a life and a warmth to them. It was a faint heartbeat, though.

There was a gentle force that brought Seihdhara away from the darkened distance of the proverbial shore. In an instant she came to be right before the colossal head of fire, and perhaps to her surprise, the tiger-faced god radiated some small amount of warmth. Enough for her to feel, at least. She closed her eyes and basked in it, and it seemed to strengthen her.

He looked at Seihdhara’s soul and contemplated her in silence for a few moments, the hue of his flames gently shifting from a dull orange to a soft gold. The tiger’s face unceremoniously sloughed away and reformed, and now she was looking at the visage of something more like a monkey.

”Death god,” he finally echoed. ”Is that all that you see?” The goddess, he eyes open once more, grinned and rubbed the back of her head sheepishly.

Not really no. I just didn’t want to go in and call you Cat-head. You seem like the serious sort, and last time I joked about with the serious sort I got… well, it didn’t go too well. And something tells me that, right now, I’m in no position to be angering anybody!

Her strange mannerisms earned little more than a puzzled look, but it didn’t remain upon the simian face for long. ”Sometimes I see blurs, hear echos, and think that once I was another thing. But now you are right, and this is all that I am. And you are dead, and that is all that you are.” Seihdhara considered the other god with raised eyebrows.

Ah, so you also can’t remember things from before the Door. Rhu-rhu is the same as you. I wonder how many of the others are like that too. It’s a shame, don’t you think? Not being able to remember anything. D’you reckon the Old Ogre did it on purpose? Rid you of your memories that is. Whatever his reason, he didn’t take mine away - or maybe he couldn’t! I’m pretty stubborn that way you know? She grinned and hovered closer to the other god, placing an ethereal hand on his now-apelike nose. Her grin disappeared slowly and a wistfulness caught in her eyes. You seem sad to me. If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think that you are just a death god. Why should you be defined by the role you play? It is important, don’t get me wrong. I can see that. But you’re not just a death god. And no, I’m not dead. That’s not all that I am. I am alive! And she dashed away from him and spun around in a great fiery whirl, laughter rippling off her. But she was dead, Katharsos knew, and her joy was lessened by the leash that stifled her flight and tethered her close to the other god.

And as in for her words, she may as well have been skipping stones off the surface of a pond.

”These names that you mention are…” His face changed into that of a lion, now. ”...alien to me. But when you enter the Pyre, your thoughts will manifest to my eyes and I shall be elucidated. In that final moment, I will understand you. But before then, it seems unlikely.”
‘You don’t know them because you’ve locked yourself up here all on your lonesome silly! If you went and talked to everyone else then you’d know everyone wouldn’t you. And wait,’ Seihdhara looked at the great sky-pyre behind her and then back at Katharsos, ‘you want me to go in there? Why!?’ She asked, perplexed at the suggestion.

For the first time, he proclaimed his dogma aloud. ”Equality in death! It is not a matter of what I want, or of whether your life was fulfilling, or whether you were a god or a tiny vermin. All must be subjected to the cleansing fires here, so their souls may be recycled that life may spring forth anew. You are dead, and the dead must make way for the living--this is only natural. This is the only way.” Seihdhara looked back at the stream of suffering souls and back to Katharsos. It did not seem to her, when she had observed the souls, that this was the case at all. She had rather thought that there was something wrong with them, that they were suffering, that they were dying slowly. The great pyres to her seemed a mercy, a swift burning away that was preferable to this endless, painful shedding. She turned back to Katharsos.
So… so there is no actual reason for burning them? I thought you burn them because they are suffering, because of that shedding and peeling. They seem to be in a great amount of pain. But you only burn them because… because… she frowned, if that’s not why you burn them, then why do you burn them?

”I acknowledge their pain, and for that reason hurl them into the flames without hesitation. Though they long to find an ending, it is in their nature to survive, so they inevitably struggle and rage; for these souls, I must give swift relief. It is my duty and my imperative.” Katharsos had a way of speaking slowly so that every word had time to sink in and crush one under its implications before even the beginnings of the next word left the god’s mind. He was in no hurry as he explained further, “Things fall apart, and souls do not last forever. Those that are not yet so decayed, like you, I feel no need to rush. Eventually all dead things must find their way into the pyres so that they can make way for new life, but you may have time to contemplate the meaning of this lifetime and reflect until you are prepared to accept and face your destiny. Time within reason, of course.” Cocking her head, Seihdhara placed her hands on her hips and pursed her lips. Something was not quite right in this all. There was a piece that did not quite click. She scratched her head and tried to figure out exactly what it was.

Pain.
Rage.
Struggle.
Survival…

Her eyes brightened and she looked up at the smoke leaving the pyre. Now that stuff, that was dead. There could be no doubt. But those… she looked down at the screaming throng being forced into the great star-pyre. Those were not dead. You are contradicting yourself Cat-head! She declared excitedly, you say that I am dead, that they are dead. But dead things can’t feel! They don’t have a need to “survive”. Just because their bodies have collapsed, it doesn’t make them dead. I’ve looked into those souls down there and I have every belief that they are life itself! I need to look more, I know, but without them there can be no life. So how can they be dead? They feel, they want to survive, they rage - these are all clear signs of life. It is that smoke there, unfeeling and cold and… it’s that that’s dead. No, souls aren’t dead Cat-head. They only come here to die.

“No, what they have here is but a pale mockery of life, a lingering vestige. Once the death of body comes, the death of soul should not be protracted for long, lest they decay and become like the most wretched of these specimens before you.” He looked closer into Seihdhara’s fiery soul. The same gentle force that he’d used to bring her into his vicinity now lifted her chin and made her meet his gaze. “This denial that you are experiencing is a most frequent thing, and perhaps a natural one, from what I have already witnessed in these others. Those that find acceptance and face reality are more content in the end.” Seihdhara considered Katharsos’ words carefully before shrugging.

I have to think on it more, and I have to see more. And I can’t see more while I’m here. I’m glad I came up here and saw all these souls, I think it was important that I did. I left some of my soul behind when I came through the Door you see, and I need to get it back. This - all this, you know? - might be important. But I can’t stay here. She approached him, a slightly vulnerable look in her eyes, Cat-head, she whispered (though there was no need truly), you need to let me go. I need to get back to my body and to my only living strand of hair. It’s important.

The radiant gold of his face lost its color, and then Seihdhara saw that every fire could be black. It was a mournful, sympathetic look, but the warmth that he had been exuding had now gone cold. Just like the ashes. “You have not understood what I told you, and nor have you come to grasp with your situation. You are dead--I do not know how that came to be so quickly, but I shall mourn. But now that you are dead, there is no leaving this place. There is no more acting, no more doing anything anywhere else, no second chances. The only things left for you are rumination, and then taking the final step. Equality in death. And then rest. And then nothingness.” Seihdhara bit her ethereal lip and looked at the pyre behind them, and at the smokey soul remains above.

No. She would not go in there. She was Seihdhara. She had not been born to die and forget. She was alive. And when she died, she would rise again complete and whole. Seihdhara did not die. It was not her way. She wracked her mind, trying to find something that could persuade her committed brother to let her go. She could fight him, but it seemed to her that he cared little for resistance and showcasing a living spirit - it was merely denial and to be expected as far as he was concerned. Maybe she could try to knock him out if it really came to it, but she did not fancy her chances in her current state. Thinking back to what the Old Ogre had placed in her mind about Cat-head, she saw that he had been swift to leave once summoned into the world. Very eager to carry out his given purpose. Looking at the death god, she did not see any harm in trying that with him.

Uh. You know, I like your whole Equality in Death thing. It seems sensible. But don’t you think we gods were brought into this world for a reason? Don’t you think that we are especially important? Don’t you think you’d be messing with the Old Ogre’s plans if you burned me before... she frowned and tried to think back. What was it that Ugly Old Ogre had wanted her to do? Oh! Before I make my Sphere. My Sphere is very important, and if I die before making it then that Old Ogre won’t be happy. Na-Aah. So I really think you should reconsider burning me - at the very least until I’ve made my Sphere.

“A purpose?” He fell silent for a long, long time in serious contemplation.

”In truth, I have been grappling with such questions as well. Perhaps this is indeed a part of the One-Eyed One’s design. But maybe your purpose is nowhere near so grand as you purport; it might be that your lot was to die, that I could look into your pyre and see you, and know you. Or perhaps there is no purpose at all to what we do or are. How can you or I say? If He deigned that you were to live, would He really have allowed you to die so soon? Would He not deliver you away from this place now if there was some urgent cause, in His eye, to undo the death of your body?” Seihdhara shrugged at Katharsos’ questions.

I can’t say that these are questions that have been bothering me. I am the self-creator of my purpose, and I have already decreed that I am not born to die. But if you are worried about these things, I think it would be good to ask the Ogre before doing away with me, don’t you think? Or if you have no time to go ask him, I can go. But I won’t promise you that I’ll be coming back! She smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of her head again, unrepentant in her honesty.

”If you indeed have a purpose, and if it would offend Him that you fail to fulfill whatever role this is, then we speak of destiny. One does not write their own destiny, or simply decree that he is beyond death.”

He looked away from her, toward a great patch of nothingness in the dark void between stars. Melantha’s darkened Sphere obscured the way, but it was easy enough for the two of them to feel that this was the precise direction in which a small rocky planetoid drifted, inside of which was the Architect’s palace, inside of which was Him on His throne, and His unbroken eye. The gaze of that eye had never left them, and even now Katharsos felt its stare…

”He sees us now. He saw you then, whenever you died. That He did nothing and does nothing seems telling. I think that you are incorrect in your convictions, Seihdhara.” Seihdhara looked in the direction Katharsos had looked for a few moments, then she turned back to her brother and, shrugging, grinned again.
You might be right, Cat-head! But maybe he sees no reason to intervene because he knows I’m fully capable of dealing with this on my own! You are the master of death, and I am that wards you off. So maybe it is time for me to do what I do! What do you think? And the memory of a sword seemed to manifest itself at her fingertips, and she flared with a fire that was not just of the soul. Because this soul was different.

If she had expected a reaction, then she wasn’t met with the reaction she hoped for. In fact, she was hardly met with any reaction at all. Katharsos still stared into the distance, looking toward where the Barrier was hidden behind darkness. He had heard her, though she might not have even realized. He simply had nothing left to say save for the silent statement that he remained unswayed. Seihdhara moved a short distance from him, now distinctly aware of the ethereal grip he had on her. But even in his grip she grew, her fiery soul swelling and gushing until it matched the other god’s in size. And the ethereal blade she had waved away returned and glistened. If you would kill me, Cat-head, then I will fight. Will you not let me go?

Before him was the ultimate defiance, a direct challenge, the very pinnacle of the ‘denial’ he had spoken of. Yet when he finally turned to face her again, there was nothing but an infuriated look that suggested he’d expected this. ”You cannot escape,” he told her flatly. ”I do not care for violence; it is not becoming of us, and entirely futile as well. Calm yourself.”

His eyes darted to her ethereal blade, and by the sheer force of his will did the ghostly facade of a weapon begin to fade and dissipate. She smirked at his words and actions, tightening her grip on the ethereal sword and forcing it to remain. Violence, Cat-head? You pulled me here forcefully and are keeping me against my will - is that not violence? Violence and force are keeping me here, and violence and force will get me out - unless you see reason and release me. There is no reason at all to keep me here. I refuse death. I am not peeling and shedding like the others. I still have much to do. The others, and she gestured to the millions of souls shedding themselves in pain, need to burn, but what need have I for it? Have you thought about that? Why can’t you send me through complete? As I am. If you have no answers, if there are no good reasons, then we must fight until I am free.

Finally, with that accusation, she managed to provoke a reaction and some semblance of emotion. His face molded once more, now into something like a dog. The black flames turned to bright red. ”I brought you here? I am keeping you here through violence?” Some mixture of confusion, anger, and (perhaps promisingly, for her) even guilt manifested upon his as he tried to grapple with and process that perspective.

”I do not bring anybody here. The Vortex of Souls brings all of the dead here, and you are clearly dead. So call it misfortune, or happenstance, or destiny that killed you and brought you here, but not I! And I would think that I am anything but violent, for offering you the mercy and grace and time that I have. I would like it if all lived fulfilling and good lives before they came before me. I would like it if all felt prepared for what is to come, and stepped into the Pyre of their own free will. I have not flung you into the flames against your will, although I certainly could have, and for that valuable consideration and all others, I am not violent!” Seihdhara only scoffed at Katharsos’ empty excuses and justifications.

You say that, Cat-head, but let us not lie to ourselves. You are the one who created the Vortex - no soul was given a choice in that matter, I know I wasn’t! Already that is violence and force whether you realise it or not. It may not be physical, but you are taking away freedom - and freedom is only taken by force whether physical or not. Don’t try to wriggle your way out of responsibility on that front! As for not flinging me into the flames and giving me time - what difference does it make? You have decided, whether I want it or not, that I will burn. Whether that happens now or in billions of aeons, the decision is made. That is force and violence even if you have coated it in kindness and mercy.

”This cycle, these pyres, my doctrine--all are for the greater good, and I can envision no better system. But the system would fail if none were to enforce it, so perhaps you are right in that I do use force. But I do not enjoy being heavy-handed; I fling these broken souls into the flames only as an act of mercy, and even still I feel regret. And I have not been nearly brutal enough to be called ‘violent’ in my dealings with you! There is no choice to be had in that all must find their way to the pyres. If it were not I, another would have to bear this burden and play this role. If the souls were not committed to flame, then perhaps they would be committed to ice, but in the end it would make no difference. Channeling your rage and denial and using it to wound me undeservedly is a great cruelty, and a most unjust one at that!” Seihdhara raised her head and huffed.

If you can’t handle the truth don’t blame me for it. If you are hurt by what I say then you are merely hurt by the truth - without all that flowery decoration and philosophical prettying-up. Why is there no choice to be had? Why must all find their way to the pyres? A healthy soul such as mine is not the same as those ones there that are shedding themselves. Surely justice demands that you treat me differently - equality here is injustice. How can you treat those half-souls, diseased and broken, like my full soul, vigorous and full of health? That is the very heart of injustice, don’t you think? What will you do in the future if other souls that are unbroken and not suffering come to you? Will you throw them in just the same? Would it not be better to create another route for them? One that does not involve all this burning and… she looked up with dread at the smoking remains of the souls and all this forgetting. She looked back at him, if you are unwilling to consider the plight of those souls that come to you before their time, then you know no mercy or justice. Why then should I show you mercy in word or action? Your system, I can see that it is necessary. But it is far too rigid. Equality in Death - it seemed sensible to me at first, but now that I think on it there is no sense to it. There should be justice in death. So give me justice, or give me battle!

”You are not treated the same, child! Where you see my wind hurl them into the fires, you are given the fair and valuable consideration of time. Of the right to even speak this conversation, to even be greeted by me! How is it just to send a soul that’s only half-ruined back to the Spheres below, when a detached spirit would only create mayhem? Why should I permit the selfish dead that refuse to pass on the right to inflict themselves upon those that yet live, when instead they can be ended as they are? When one dies, his soul is recycled and takes new form and another being lives. There is no battle here, Seihdhara, but there is justice.” Seihdhara frowned in confusion. She did not understand everything he was saying. Inflict themselves? Selfish? Half-ruined and detached spirits?

Look Cat-head, I don’t know what you’re saying but if you expect me to be grateful because you allowed me, in your endless magnanimity, to speak, then think again. If I am to bow down at your feet in utter humility and subservience because you have given me time to contemplate, then you have another thing coming. I am a prisoner here, brought unwilling. And you intended to annihilate me, destroy all that I am, and look into my most private thoughts and memories. This is not merely violence, this is an all out invasion, a metaphysical assault and violence of enormous proportions. I will not be grateful. I will call you out. And you will rethink this. And you will let me be free - at the very least put me back where your Vortex kidnapped me from. Or if you have to burn me, then don’t burn my memories. Reform me whole. And don’t look into me.

His fires shook gently side to side as if the fluttering flames were blown by some wind, but there was no wind here in the cold of space. ”I thought that my purpose might be misunderstood,” he wistfully said, ”but I had hoped it might not be so. It is disappointing to see you so unable to grasp my perspective or look beyond yourself, but I still hold hope that perhaps the others are more mature. Very well, I can see that you will not be swayed, yet neither do your words or threats change my mind. So here you shall remain, until the end of your days. You may still choose when that is.”

With that final condemnation, Katharsos turned away from Seihdhara and left her. She watched after him dolefully until the distant light of his fiery body disappeared around to the other side of the great pyre before her. The lamentations of the steady stream of souls being swept into the pyre made a fitting ambience for her plight. She puffed in frustration and threw the soul-blade away in anger, her great body fizzling and shrinking like a great balloon swiftly releasing air. That did not go well at all. She had let her anger get to her and, instead of convincing her brother with kind words she had forced him off with harsh ones. Even now, moments (or it seemed like moments) after the heated fight she could see with exactness where she had gone wrong and where she might have been able to speak better. Slapping herself for the nitwit that she was, she made to go after him. But almost immediately she stopped herself. No, she had hurt him. She had sensed that. Perhaps more deeply than she could have imagined. She would have to give him some time to think, to calm down. Perhaps time would make him take more kindly to her advanced when she approached him at last. Biting her lips and sighing, she stared miserably at the endless stream of souls being swept into the star.

She was not sure how long it had been when she finally started, and got up from what must have been a slumber. She had lost count at what must have been the four thousandth soul to be flung into the pyre. She looked about and began searching for Cat-head. Slowly at first, for she was worried about getting caught in the torrent this close to the huge star, but once she had gotten her bearings she sped up. She found him eventually, brooding as he had been before he heard her the first time. She bit her lips and looked at him shyly, before approaching close enough to touch him. She extended a hand and touched his fiery head.
C- Cat-head, she murmured, I just wanted to say that- and here she smiled awkwardly and her eyes were as full of repentance as she could sincerely show, I was stupid I was harsh I got angry I shouldn’t have I know it was so dumb. Please, don’t take what I said to heart. I might have gotten a bit too harsh in my accusations - I only wanted you to free me see? And, well. I saw that you were kind - it’s so clear that you are! I just thought that if I made you feel guilty enough then you would let me go. I know, I was bad, I shouldn’t have. Look - I understand why you bring them up here, I can see that you would prefer for them all to have lived complete and fulfilling lives, to willingly leap into the flame and be annihilated. It is a beautiful ideal. I still don’t entirely understand why they are shedding - and I still intend to find out! But the reason I want to know is because I too don’t wish for them to suffer, I too wish for them to live complete and fulfilled lives. And yes, I know they are dead the moment they leave their bodies as far as you are concerned, but I want them not to suffer even in the brief time between departing their bodies and being truly annihilated. Call me sentimental or emotional, or whatever else you will, but it is what it is I guess. So- uh. I just wanted to say that. So you know and don’t think too harshly of me - or of yourself at that. And yeah - sorry about my outbursts. She looked at him apologetically and gripped his flames tighter, as if her closeness to him and her words would soften his heart to her and have him forgive her. And somehow, her words found her way into his heart and she convinced him.

”Go,” he told her. It had been almost a whisper, a tiny crack in the smooth surface of silence, but now he was silent once more. Had he even spoken at all, or was it only her hopeful imagination..? But erelong, there was a gentle tugging upon her. It brought her toward the pyre, and it tightened, but it didn’t let go. Swiftly realising what was happening, she held onto her brother and resisted the tug.
N- no. Talk to me first. There was a desperation in her voice and her eyes told only too well of a deep fright. It was not the horror he had seen in her eyes at the prospect of being burned, but something rather more immediate. I... and there was suddenly a wide-eyed naivety about her, I don’t want to have lost you.
”They’ll always think what you said. That I’m a tyrant,” he accidentally mused aloud. He shook his head slightly, and the force spiriting her away grew stronger. She frowned and shook her head also, still clutching onto him against the pull and tears suddenly forming in her ethereal eyes and dripping onto him.
No. They won’t. I will tell them otherwise. They will know of your mercy, as I have come to know. And you know it too.
And then the force grew too strong and it carried her up, over the brazing inferno, into the great plume of ash that the flames belched upward, and in that updraft she was caught and swept away. The ashes carried her back down to Galbar, the great billowing cloud of them unnaturally retaining its cohesion so as to bear her against the current of the Vortex of Souls. She passed by many a spirit and broken soul on its fateful journey to the stars. Some didn’t react, for she was not the only soul about even if she was the only fiery one, but just as many took notice, and they laughed or made faces or jeered or screamed. Still, the cold ashes bore her away from them and back down to Galbar. The cold, dead ashes. They were raining down everywhere here on Galbar; she just hadn’t known to look for them before. She looked up and all about here, awed into silence by the… all-encompassing nature of these things. She sank closer to the ground, following now this piece and now that piece, peering within this piece and tearing apart that as if to see in it. And closer to the sea she saw a tiny creature, far too tiny for mere sight. It was tearing itself apart, slowly, and bits of soul were crowding about it with urgency. And then, with a suddenness, the creature was now two identical creatures and a single piece of soul disappeared inside it. And Seihdhara could suddenly see the new, whole soul that lay within the tiny plankton of her sister’s creation. And so the cycle was complete.

With the ghost of a smile dancing on her ethereal face, she looked up above to where she knew her brother sat in thought and contemplation, considering the memories of unknown thousands. What knowledge he must have, what wisdom! She shrank inwardly in embarrassment at the thought of having spoken so outlandishly before him in his own realm. It was only a sign of his mercy and wisdom that he did not lash out at her then and punish her as the Old Ogre had done before. She could learn much from one like Cat-head. And it seemed the first lesson she should take to heart was quite clearly not to anger those with power over her!

She considered this deeply for a few moments. There was an altogether serious expression on her face.

Oh fuck it. Who am I kidding. And she scratched her head sheepishly. But no! She had to learn to pick her battles carefully! And she had to know how to fight her battles! That lesson she could - and would! - learn. And so thinking, she extended her senses until she felt where that distant part of her - that hair - was. And she dashed away, ready now for her second - and final - coming.

---

---

---

---

As the salty wind currents howled in the empty air, the mighty Phoenix continued its journey across the restless ocean. Despite his body looking completely incapable of flight due to the nature of his stature and rugged skin, the flier had no problems gliding with his massive wings propelling him forward as chunks of lava and debris fell from said wings. Of course, riding the local wind currents was also a blessing for the creature to rest its wings momentarily and glide for miles at a time without using any energy. It also often found itself gliding either barely above the clouds, or extremely close to the water's surface to the point where its just barely skimming across it. Unlike Sartr, it didn't have major phobia with water in any capacity. And while like Sartr it still preferred not to get its wings wet, it was not afraid to dance along the edge of its elemental nemesis.

But still, its trip was going to be dauntingly long one, especially given the direction it was going. If it chose to go southwest, instead of southeast, it would definitely taken way less time than this route. But being fresh out of Muspellheim, its sense of direction was still in need of major calibration. If the Phoenix was going to complete its trip towards the continent at this rate, it'll have to make a quick pit-stop at the nearest landmass to refuel and hopefully absorb some energy from the surrounding location. Once filled, it should have the strength necessary to make it over there. In order to do that however, he must first find a decently sized island.

And lucky for him, there was one right within his flight path.

The Phoenix eventually caught a sweet whiff of a freshly unique scent. Instinctually, its mind realized that it was the smell of land - although it smelled nothing like the smoky scent of boiling lava and ash back on Muspellheim. Curiously, it followed its nose towards this intriguing smell. And after several more minutes of flying, it could finally see the vague outline of a green landmass behind the ocean haze. The creature began to feel excited about this newfound bounty. It began to flap its wings harder, now propelling himself faster as it used the air current to his advantage.

Meanwhile, the virgin tropical island had little to no idea of the approaching body of fire as the local wildlife went about their day as usual. The birds chirped and sung to one another, as small rats and lizards scuttled underneath - but neither had expected the flying mass of fire and flame speeding towards them. And so once the Phoenix was upon them, they were utterly helpless to stop it. And with nowhere else to go, they were doomed.

The giant pterosaur made a low fly-by of the island, unleashing hurricane-force winds upon the land with its massive wingspan and ferocious speed combined. It ripped through the jungle with devastating force, ripping out groves trees straight from the ground and flinging the native wildlife around like leaves in a breeze. And the fire and ash that fell off the creature's wings were quick to start a major forest fire - with balls of congealed magma crashing upon the forest floor. Those who could burrow into the soil had a much better chance in surviving compared to the rest of the wildlife.

In only a matter of minutes, the Phoenix had completely scorched the poor island.

Now sterilized, the Phoenix finally descended upon the heaping rock with a massive thump. It searched the island for any scraps of food that had been cooked alive - or perhaps still amongst the living - by his apocalyptic chaos. Any form of food, no matter how small or big, was its for the taking. Any scorched lizards on the ground were measly pickings for the colossus. Any bird that attempted to whiz by its head would risk getting snapped by the Phoenix's gnarly beak, which was tipped with sharp edges that made its teeth. It even resorted in plucking out scorched foliage in an attempt to fuel its ever burning flames - from logs, ferns, and even large trees.

But what it didn't know was that it was trespassing on private property... for it was within the island archipelago that surrounded the infamous Eye of Desolation. Surely any god nearby would be alerted to its presence... if not for the oddly heated winds that blew bits and pieces of ash towards them.