Eurysthenes fiddled with the little puzzle for a moment before it simply fell apart in its grip, having been solved. This One looked down at the jagged coastline, considering the bleakness. The relative normalcy. This One did not like bleakness, and so something would have to be done. Something interesting, and contrary to what one might expect of a beach.

After a moment of contemplation interrupted only by the grinding of gears, it had arrived at a decision. Eurysthenes shifted its body to seven long, spindly legs which held it suspended above the ground, and crossed to the shore in seven long strides. Upon arrival, the shoreline quivered like a lower lip, slowly rising to meet the sky, but giving up before it got any real start. It rose at an angle the whole way around, the highest point of this wall on the shore, the lowest meeting the upward slope of Swahhitte.

Within this colossal cliff were gouged tunnels of no design or purpose but to confuse, entrances on the outside aplenty, though only four exits. Some areas high enough to accommodate the likes of gods, others small enough that even the shortest beings would have to crouch.
The darkness within each tunnel was so complete that one could see the walls closing in. Tunnels that muddled minds like understanding didn't.

Considering the imposing nature of the outside, Eurysthenes decided that it would make the cliffs a little more appealing. A lovely lure to grace each entrance: harbours, desires, flesh, knowledge. No need was left unaccounted for in this true lure. Of course, none of this was real. It was merely an illusion that would last long enough to get the foolish lost.

And with that, it was complete, though it lacked a certain touch. An underground maze of tunnels that lured people to their inevitable death was good, but it didn't pop.

This One sighed, it's nonexistent breath misting. Inspiration! Opening its chest, the Mad Ice was revealed. A thick fog hurtled from it, coating the ground with a gaggle. Eurysthenes divided it into sections; hundreds of sections. Each was gifted a soul and a purpose. This purpose was simple. Spread within the maze, and madden those which enter. The fog swooshed into the four exits, never to return.

Next, This One allowed some water into the tunnels, to refresh travelers. This water was filled with invisible parasites which applied torsion to the mind.

Little lights who plounced about, going out whenever they were perceived directly.

Mouths with legs that scattle about, licking on mineral deposits.

Smudges of flesh that coat themselves in acid before hurling themselves at other life forms.

All in all, this would be a hell hole. Eurysthenes sat in a joyous contemplation of what would happen to those who would be foolish enough to lose themselves in such a place. It chortled, daintily covering its mouth with the back of its hand.

---

The continent came into view. In that moment Kalmar realized he had yet to actually name it anything. He felt as though it needed a name. But what? Although he was willing to share ownership of it, it was he who created it, so if it belonged to anyone, it should be his. Kalmar’s Land? Kalmar’s Ground? Kalground? “I will call it Kalgrun,” he said aloud, to no one in particular.

Yet as he drew closer, he noticed something strange. There was another divine presence nearby, but that wasn’t what immediately stood out.

Strange, peculiar, colourful birds busied around the sky and on the ground. And plants were beginning to sprout - he had not been gone for so long. It seemed as though another god had already interfered in his absence, though interfere was used in the loosest sense, as he was not immediately opposed to this particular change. Indeed, they seemed to be doing a portion of the work for him.

”They do not seem harmful,” he said aloud, referring to the birds. ”Though I wonder who brought them here in my absence…” He came to a stop midflight and turned to toward Phystene, to hear her own opinion on the matter.

“Azura perhaps?” Phystene asked, she had been running on the water and now simply stood on the ocean as if it was solid ground, swaying gently as the ocean moved beneath her. “Wind goddess. Flying birds. Seems to fit. Regardless I wouldn’t be concerned about them. In my… original world birds were very important to the ecosystem. Many helped spread the seeds of plants and kills pests.” She shrugged. “That’s assuming they weren’t created specifically by some malicious deity of course.”

”Another deity is nearby,” Kalmar pointed out, looking out at the distant horizon. “They could be responsible. We should go see.” He resumed his flight, speeding inland and dodging around birds of various colour, until at last the newcomer came into clear view.

Phystene followed without comment, her attention more on the freshly grown plant life than on the other deity. As they made landfall and began moving inland, Phystene let her power flow free. Where she stepped, flowers grew and bloomed. The nearby plants grew quicker, larger. For all the damage her fight with Orvus had caused, it had also made her stronger, more whole. She smiled at the life surrounding her, slowly shifting her gaze to the deity they were now approaching.

“What brings you here?” Kalmar asked, landing on the ground.

In front of the two deities was a colossal ship, floating on a large, constantly spinning circle of water. Phystene recognised it well, and could not help but scowl. For a moment, there was no response. There was merely a gentle clanking of metal and some loud noises from within the hull, followed by unintelligible bickering. The bickering slowly ascended the inside of the hull until it emerged atop the deck, taking on a somewhat more intelligible form.

“... and I am just saying, my lord, there really is no need to always ask people for a dri-!” The young girl trailed her master, who seemed to be carrying some containers, and tried to grab him.

“Stop speaking such nonsense, Xiaoli. This is the basest of expectations for a host!” Shengshi poked his head over the edge of the deck and spotted the two gods on the ground. “Ah! In the Architect’s name, I greet the both of you! Phystene, what a pleasure it is to see you again! I hope you have been well since our last meeting.” He turned to Kalmar. “And-...” He poked his chin in thought and dug around in his memories. “I want to say… Kalmor?”

”Kalmar,” the God of the Hunt corrected, but he said no more. Instead he turned toward Phystene, deciding that it would be best if she spoke next.

“Well Orvus tried to kill me and proclaimed his intent to kill all us nature deities.” She reported in a deadpan voice. “So fairly well all things considered.”

Shengshi’s face grew white as chalk. He dropped the bottles he were holding and covered his face with a hand, turning away. A moment passed before turning back. “Dearest, mightiest brother Kalmar, I am so utterly, terribly sorry for my mispronunciation of your glo-”
”Enough,” Kalmar cut him off. ”What is this... thing?” he gestured toward the ship with a puzzled expression.

The snake’s face formed a curt sneer. He put on a slightly more prideful tone and gestured to the many facets and ornaments aboard the ship. “Well, brother, since you are so veryeager to know… This... Is the Jiangzhou, my holy vessel, my magnum opus, and most glorious piece of work!” Xiaoli pouted quietly. The snake paid her no mind. “Impervious to damage from all elements underneath Heliopolis, ‘tis a piece of the most capable and intricate craftsmanship unseen throughout creation - and, if I may be so arrogant to assume, it will forever remain so!” He let out a proud laughter and placed his arms back on the railing, his lips curling into a cheeky smile.

Kalmar almost wished he hadn’t asked. Still, he had probably learned… something that might be useful, maybe. He looked at Shengshi’s companion - sapient life, capable of communication… and it wasn’t a god? Now that was interesting. ”I see,” he said flatly.

“And it floats” Phystene by this point had fully turned her back to the disgustingly metallic vessel and was crouched down, looking at a flower. She idly sent some of her power into the flower, its petals shifting through several colors as she gave it thorns, then removed them after a moment.

”Anyway,” Kalmar began, deciding to turn the conversation toward a more serious matter. ”Not long ago, Orvus tried to kill Phystene. If not stopped, he will try to destroy everything. Me, you, those birds, those flowers, your companion… even your ‘vessel.’” He paused, to let the severity of the situation sink in. ”If you agree to stand with us when Orvus attacks again, we will do the same for you.”

The snake pulled pensively at his beard, perhaps for a little longer than necessary for effect. After a moment longer, he paused his hair-plucking and gave Kalmar a raised eyebrow.

“This is the same god who tossed that giant rock at the planet, correct?” he asked him.

Kalmar shrugged. ”I don’t know. I wasn’t there.” He looked toward Phystene, as if she might know the answer. Shengshi raised a clawed hand. “No need to confirm it. My dearest sister Phystene does not strike me as the untruthful sort.” He gave the plant goddess a reptilian wink.

Phystene looked over her shoulder and answered Shengishi’s wink with a warm smile. “I don’t know who is responsible for all the rocks being thrown about or if its even just a single deity, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Orvus was responsible for at least one of them.” She let out a soft sigh. “I would be hard pressed to find a being so… broken as he. I suspect you won’t be able to truly understand what I mean till you encounter him yourself.”

“From the way you have described him, he strikes me as the sort I would rather -not- encounter.” He let out a soft hiss, complemented by a flick of his forked tongue. “So… It is an alliance you seek?” He feigned a pensive look and gave Kalmar another draconian sneer. “Pardon me for a moment.” The snake turned and guided Xiaoli away from the railing, followed by hushed whispers and the occasional hiss.

Kalmar answered the lizard’s sneer with a glare. ”Is he always like this?” he quietly asked Phystene once Shengshi had turned away.

“He was much more amiable when I last spoke to him” Phystene commented, still intently focused on her flower and not Shengshi’s golden ship. “He was incredibly so in fact.” She cocked her head to the side. “Maybe he lost his wine.”

“Fine! Fine…” The whispering came to an end and the snake made his way over to the railing again. He cleared his throat and noticed Phystene seemingly being more busy playing with flowers than paying attention to the conversation. He took a deep breath, held it for a spell, and let it out in the form of a sigh. Xiaoli stood next to him with her fingers crossed, eyes squeezed shut and what seemed to be a prayer on her lips.

“I have come…” He paused for dramatic effect. “... To a decision.” He shot Xiaoli a look, which she returned with an encouraging nod. He turned back to his impatient siblings. “This request for your brother’s allegiance is a humbling one, certainly - it is my deepest honour to be wanted among such an exalted group such as yourselves.” He slithered back slightly and took a bow. “I will graciously accept…” Xiaoli let out a sigh of relief. “...Upon the fulfillment of one, simple condition - one specifically relating to my dearest brother Kalmar, the tracker saint - holy lord of the hunting grounds.” The snake pointed a clawed, scaly finger at the hunter god. There was an audible gasp for air from behind him as Xiaoli went back to her silent prayer.

Kalmar listened to the snake’s flattery with mild irritation. He did not mind being praised, but he had done nothing to actually earn such compliments, and thus he viewed it as insincere. Still, this time he did a better job of hiding his annoyance. ”What is it?” He asked warily. It was a fair deal as is. Why did this lizard think he was in a position to make demands?

“All I ask is a mere bond built upon respect. I shall submit my allegiance to your alliance…” The snake’s black-ringed eyes suddenly narrowed into a slit-pupiled scowl. The fins along the god’s scaled back, arms and tail sharpened into quills; he pulled his lips back over his fangs; the water that supported the ship from below began to foam and boil with primordial fury.

“In return, you shall never. Interrupt me. Again.” He licked at the air in Kalmar’s direction. “Are we in agreement?”

”No.” Kalmar glared back. ”That agreement gives you the power to render me eternally mute; all you would have to do is never stop talking.” Which shouldn’t be too difficult for you… he thought to himself. ”The deal was fair as it was.”

Shengshi raised a long, black brow and snickered. “My, you truly are a god of nature - such a simple understanding of context.” Xiaoli poked gently at the snake and voiced a quiet “pushing it”; Shengshi proceeded to push her away. “I was merely alluding to you interrupting me in the middle of an apology earlier. A small matter to some; a grievous transgression to others.” He hissed yet again and grinned smugly downwards at the hunter. “It is in such cases that I would rather finish my thoughts - cases of emergency are naturally different.” His menacing expression faded. The snake jumped down from the ship and he extended an inviting hand. “How does this amended proposal sound?”

”Fine,” Kalmar grumbled. Let the snake have the insignificant victory, he reasoned. His support was what they needed. He glanced down at the extended hand, his expression one of mild puzzlement. This was the second time somebody did that - what did it mean? He looked back up at Shengshi as if expecting him to say something else.

“You are supposed to shake my hand. It is a sign of good faith,” the snake said softly. His demeanor had completely flipped: All that was on the snake’s lips was a wide, warm smile; his eyes were relaxed and round-pupilled; his voice carried the sweet notes of peace and patience.

So that was what it was? That made sense, Kalmar supposed. The fact that the gesture required an open palm showed that neither party was carrying a weapon, and the close proximity required by such an act would also give both participants the opportunity to size up the other up and observe their body language, to help determine their intent. Now that he thought about it, it was almost ingenious - if not for the main flaw: that it allowed both parties to keep their other hand concealed. Still, it wasn’t a bad idea.

And so, Kalmar reached forward, grabbed the lizard’s hand, gripped it tight, and vigorously yet unenthusiastically shook.

“Excellent!” Phystene proclaimed as she jumped to her feet and clapped her hands once. She turned towards her two peers and, with a warm smile on her face, placed both of her hands on top of their clasped hands. “I am glad we could all come to an agreement.” She was quiet for a few seconds, letting the moment sink in, before asking “Would you care to introduce us to your companion Shengshi? I don’t remember seeing her at the Architect’s.”

“Naturally!” Shengshi said. He turned and got a quarter way into yelling, “Xiaoli, come down, please,” before he looked up to see Xiaoli already making her way down the side of the hull. Despite no claws, she held onto the wooden planks with a steady grip. Upon arriving at the ground, the girl knelt down on both her knees before the gods, extended her arms forward on the ground and placed her forehead on the back of her hands.

“Glorious divines, this servant of yours is beyond humbled to stand before you,” she said, not breaking her kowtow. “This servant is named Xiaoli, advisor to the Lord of the Thousand Streams, Shengshi.” Then, she finally raised her head, got to her feet and bowed. “This servant is born of divine blood, but pales in both power and holiness next to your sacred beings. My mission is to counsel His Lordship about moral issues and to be His Lordship’s voice of reason. This servant will likewise gladly offer my services to anyone else who may wish for them.” Then, finally, she raised herself again so she stood straight, a soft smile on her lips.

”I see…” Kalmar said, not quite understanding. Why did he need another being to serve as his voice of reason? That implied that Shengshi was not reasonable himself… which had already been implied earlier in the conversation, in truth. But actually saying such seemed like an admission of weakness. He turned back to Shengshi. ”You did not answer my first question - what brought you here?”

The snake nodded. “A most excellent question, dear brother. You see, I had a dream - a dream that, among other things…” He shuddered slightly. “... Revealed to me the existence of this continent. A simple trail of thought led me to the conclusion that, a land as barren as this one, would be in dire need of some rivers for life to flock around.” He patted the hull of his ship. “Therefore, I came over.”

Kalmar nodded back. That made sense - rivers would indeed be necessary. ”When do you plan to start building?”

The snake hummed pensively for a spell, then looked up at the sky to observe the position of Heliopolis.

“Right away, I suppose.” He looked around for a horizon, but the continent was a lot larger than the Dragon’s Foot, especially from where he was standing.

“Would you like it to go any specific direction? Wait, I already know. I am really feeling like making a river running eastward. Yes… One rivalling Nanhe in size! No, wait, perhaps not. They get a little problematic when they get so large… Also, it would need a name.” He snapped his fingers repeatedly in the direction of Xiaoli. “What, uhm, what should we call a river running eastwards?”

“Donghe, my lord?” Xiaoli proposed patiently. The snake snapped one final snap and nodded. “Perfect. So yes, wherever the two of you are ready, my adorable companion Xiaoli and I will commence.” He smiled at his two siblings.

”Do it,” Kalmar said, wanting the lizard to get on with it. Why couldn’t he name it after it was created? It didn’t matter much either way, but the condescending tone and arrogant demeanor was getting on his nerves, even more so than the false flattery.

“Any preferences, dearest sister?” he repeated and winked playfully at Phystene, placing a clawed finger on one edge of his mouth which itself curled into a small smile.

“It is a pleasure to meet you” Phystene whispered to to Xialoi, giving her shoulder a light squeeze, before answering Shengshi’s question. “Donghe sounds like an excellent name, though I’ll admit I have no talent for naming things myself, so perhaps my opinion on the matter should be taken with a grain of salt. Naming aside…” Phystene looked at both Kalmar and Shengshi, her lips forming a frown of thought. “Might I suggest Donghe be a large river? Perhaps one that feed numerous smaller rivers that can in turn spread water throughout the whole continent?” She turned to Kalmar. “Are there any large mountain ranges here that can supply the snow necessary to feed such a water system?”

”No,” Kalmar admitted, ”but we could make some.” He cast his gaze to the northwest. ”Somewhere in that direction would be best.” He swept his hand from north to west.

Shengshi pouted quietly. “... But if it flows northwestwards, we cannot call it Donghe…” He sighed quietly. “No matter! As you wish, dear brother.” He stretched a little and had another look around. “... Let me think… Tributaries… Delta…” He measured the horizon half-heartedly with his thumb. “Xiaoli, what is your estimate?”

For some unknown reason, Kalmar instinctively brought his palm to his face. ”I was talking about the mountains,” he growled in frustration. ”The river will flow from the mountain. It would still move eastward.”

The snake grinned from horn to horn. “Oh, how splendid! Did you hear that, Xiaoli? We can still name it Donghe!” The girl grinned as well. “How wonderful, my lord! Soon, each direction will have its own river!” The two let out a sigh of satisfaction at the perfection of rivers running in the four cardinal directions. The snake turned to Kalmar and Phystene.

“Well, shall we get to it, then?”

“I’ll leave that to you two then.” Phystene answered. “I’ll busy myself spreading life in the area.” She gave Kalmar a knowing smile and then gave each of her peers a nod of her head. “I’m sure we’ll bump into each other soon enough while working on our tasks.”

”Farewell,” Kalmar managed to smile back, despite his irritation at the insufferable lizard.

“Have a wonderful day still and may you find like to grow on these lands like joy during a feast.” Shengshi bowed deeply before his sister. Xiaoli went a step further and kowtowed.

Kalmar looked to Shengshi. ”Must we call it ‘the Donghe’?” Something about that name seemed… off, though he wasn’t quite sure what. The snake looked puzzled and scratched his bearded chin.

“What’s wrong with Donghe?” he inquired, looking genuinely perplexed. Even Xiaoli, who had gotten back on her feet again, could not seem to see reason in Kalmar’s request.

”There are other, clearer names to choose,” Kalmar suggested. ”The Kalmere River, the River Physt, the River Sheng…” he listed off names that immediately sprang to mind. ”Why ‘Donghe?’”

Shengshi sighed. “Because it runs eastwards, of course! ‘Donghe’ - ‘east river’?” He shrugged with wide eyes as if it had been the most obvious explanation known to both gods and goons.

”Then why not call it ‘the Eastern River?’” Kalmar inquired. ”I know ‘east’, I do not know ‘donghe.’”

Shengshi let out another sigh that slowly turned into a groan. He put his palms together and rested his nose on top of the fingertips, taking a long drag of air through his nose.

“The name ‘Donghe’ rolls a little better off the tongue than ‘Eastern River’... My, so many syllables. Would you not agree, Xiaoli?” The girl nodded carefully. “See, she agrees.”

”Easthe, then.” Kalmar suggested instead.

“Easth-!” The snake choked on his words and turned away, faking a gagging cough to the point where it was borderline genuine. Xiaoli patted him on the back, looked to Kalmar and silently formed the words “sorry” on her lips. After a few dramatic coughs, the god regained his composure again, wafting some air at his face with his palm.

“With all due respect, brother - no.”

Kalmar shrugged, not understanding why the lizard was so insistent on the river’s name, but ultimately it was just a name and of little consequence. ”Very well, then,” he said. ”I will be on my way.”

He was halfway through turning to leave when suddenly he stopped and looked back, staring Shenshi directly in the eyes. ”But one more thing,” he said, his voice darkening. ”Threaten me, deceive me, or insult me again, and I will make you answer for it.” Then, without awaiting a response, he flew off.

The snake sneered at the threat. “First he gravely insults me, then proceeds to show an utter lack of interest for anything I say, before finally handing his new ally a quite menacing threat.” He hissed disapprovingly. “Perhaps accepting his invitation was a poor decision, after all…” Xiaoli hummed pensively.

“Well, to be fair, my lord, you may have overreacted to his act of interruption - just a liiittle bit.” To demonstrate the scope of his overreaction, she pinched a small bar of air between her fingers. The snake rolled his eyes.

“Inconceivable. A natural reaction to an unexpected attack upon my holy person… Though, yes, perhaps a little -too- natural. Almost barbarically natural.” He tugged ponderously at his beard. “To think that I would ally myself with such an uncivilised-!”

“My lord!” Xiaoli snapped. The snake cut his sentence short and folded his arms.

“No, you are right. We have better things to do than speak ill of our siblings.”

“Your siblings, my lord, and -you- are the one speaking ill of them - which, if I may add, is not very morally correct of you.”

The snake waved the comment away and grabbed a globule of fresh water from under the ship. “I will work on my morals at a later date. For now, I have to vent for a spell.” Xiaoli’s eyes widened and the goddess instinctively climbed aboard the ship for protection. She could not understand it. She had never even conceived of the possibility that her master could harbour such anger for another; and yet-

Her trail of thought was cut short by a thunderous crack of rock and stone. Xiaoli covered behind the wooden railing as gravel and shale sprung up from beneath and sliced harmlessly at the divine planks of the Jiangzhou. The terrified girl allowed her eyes to peek just above the railing, but she wished that she had not.

There was no love in this; none of the artistic principles her master normally followed; there was only carnage as a crooked sword of water cut through earth and rock like a saw through bone. The current, amplified thousandfold by the furious god, cared not for adherence to the principle of path of least resistance; on the contrary, what miniscule resistance the ground could put up was massacred by the turbulent torrent, leaving an unnatural, straight scar across the landscape. Xiaoli felt tears well up in her eyes as she climbed down and carefully walked over to her panting lord.

The snake did not look like himself. The quills had returned; his black hair stabbed outwards in all directions like the head of a morning star; his claws had grown. Xiaoli opened her mouth to speak, but the snake spoke first in a voice that could grease chariot wheels.

“You know what? I think my dear brother Kalmar may have had a point. The river needs a better name.”

Xiaoli’s eyes widened. “W-what does my lord suggest?” she asked weakly.

The lizard hummed ponderously. After a moment, he flicked his fingers and gave Xiaoli a sinister grin. The girl started.

“I have just the name… I think I will call it ‘Nuhe’.” Xiaoli’s eyes widened and she covered a gasp with her sleeve. The snake snickered, patted the girl on the shoulder and slithered back to the ship. As Xiaoli stared at the unnaturally straight river, she repeated the name in a shivering voice. This was a hateful name; a name picked to symbolise a mistake, or worse, a challenge.

“Nuhe,” she whispered. “The River… Of Rage.”

---

A red winged blackbird trilled loudly amid the scattered sounds of the other morning birds. Each song easing Orvus awake. With a sleepy sigh, his eyes finally peeled open. He stretched, and then froze in confusion. He was staring straight up, a wooden ceiling above him, and his arms that were held up to stretch had hands stuck to the ends of them -- the flesh kind. His back was perfectly supported on a cushioned mattress and a pillow supported his head -- The kind with short black hair!

The morning sun peeked through his glass paneled window, filling his quant room with the rustic smell of sun soaked wood.

Confusion jostled his groggy mind to alertness, as Orvus looked around at the unfamiliar room he found himself in. He looked at his hands with disbelief, as he balled his fingers into fists over and over. This was not how he looked, not some flesh covered creature. Slowly he brought his hands up to touch his face, and he felt...he felt hair. His chin was covered in thick, coarse hairs. A beard? When had he grown a beard? How did he even know what such a thing was? He let his hand feel upwards, and they gently felt his flesh. His skin was sunkissed, but still retained a semblance of youth. Orvus went on to feel his nose, his ears, and finally the hair atop his head. He drank in the sensations like a fine wine before letting out a satisfied sigh.

His hands fell down upon silky sheets and he took in the room again with new perspective. It was… homely and quant. A pleasant smell wafted throughout, and at the foot of the bed rested a small animal, sleeping quietly. That was not the only thing at the foot of the bed however, something else lay under the sheets, and Orvus turned to see that he was not alone in the room.

Beside him laid a woman, who he somehow remembered, from her mahogany hair to the band of gold on her finger. As he stared at her sleeping form, memories rushed through his mind, from meeting on the old bridge for the first time, to a very special winter seven cycles ago now. A fuzzy feeling tickled his chest as he stared and eventually the woman turned to him and smiled, “we slept in.” Her voice was like honey, and as she spoke, her name materialized in Orvus’ mind.

Quickly his eyes snapped the the scene outside, her words resonating. It was merely fourthsday, by no means the day of rest and outside he could spot some of his neighbors and work hands already tending to his fields, the black coated oxen straining.

“It doesn’t feel too warm,” Orvus’ wife sat up, shaking out a knot in her hair, “probably going to be a mild one today -- what?”

Her eyes pierced his as she noticed him staring.

“I…” Orvus paused, before a smirk set upon his lips which turned into a smile as he continued to stare.

“Rowan.” He spoke her name, letting it flow out of his mouth. The mere thought of her name made his smile grow wider. He probably looked like some fool, but he didn’t care. Why would he with the one he-

“What?” she asked, returning a smile that gave him butterflies still, even after all these years. She was older now, but like a fine wine, she grew more beautiful each passing day. He leaned in, placing a kiss upon her cheek, before pulling back to look at her again with a soft expression.

“Oh, nothing.” Orvus said, “I just had the strangest dream. Waking up felt…” He paused, unsure of what to say but quickly continued, “I’m just happy to wake up next to you.”

“They happen to the best of us,” She smiled as she slid out of bed. Standing up she stretched, letting her hand rest on a slightly pronounced abdomen, Orvus remembering her pregnancy. Her face suddenly twisted, “should we eat breakfast or lunch?”

Orvus watched her lithe figure, and his excitement grew as he saw her belly. Having a third child hadn’t really been planned, but who was he to go against fate? Besides, maybe this one would finally be a boy. Not that he had anything against women, or his own daughters, but there was just something right about having a kid to continue the family line.

He shook his head, and got up as well. He wrapped his arms around Rowan’s belly, embracing her with a hug as he placed his chin a top her head.

He sighed, “Nothing for me right now, dear. There’s too much work to be done. Me and the boys still have to plow the south field and don’t even get me started on the other chores. With any luck, the twins have started have milked the cows, fed the chickens, and fetched some water.” He said aloud, before the both started laughing.

“You know them,” Rowan began, “They probably saw us sleeping in and decided to go play in the forest or get into trouble. They have too much of their father in them I think.” she said smiling.

“Oh? And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” Orvus said playfully before tickling her on the sides, her weak spot. As Rowan began to squirm with laughter, desperately trying to escape his grasp, Orvus spoke between his own chuckling, “Trouble you say? I think the only person here in trouble is you my dear!” And they both fell back onto the bed in a tangle that eventually ended up with lots of kissing.

When they finally calmed down after a long, deep kiss. Orvus looked into Rowan’s amber colored eyes and felt a connection unlike anything he had ever felt. He began to speak, “I l-” but was quickly interrupted by a knock on the front door. That was most likely Hank, his lead farmhand wondering what in the hell was keeping him so long.

He let out another sigh, “I should probably go. I don’t want too, but, I don’t think letting Hank run the place is the best idea.”

She squinted at him playfully, “get yer ass to work.”

He got up slowly, reaching the closet for some worn work clothes. As he changed he spoke to his wife with his back turned. “Now, need I remind you to not do anything extraneous or have my constant bickerings finally found a home in that beautiful head of yours?”

Before Rowan could answer, there was another heavy knock on the door and the woman pursed her lips, “don’t worry about me, go see Hank.”

He made his way to the door, before looking back at Rowan again. Orvus smiled, and she smiled back as he walked away to the front door. The knocking came again, and Orvus shouted, “Come on Hank, can’t let a guy catch up on some sleep!” before he opened the front door.

“Well I’m sorry if the plowing doesn’t want to wait!” A large bear of a man growled in a voice much lighter than one would expect, “not that I doubt there was any lack of that going on in here.” He squinted his eyes before cracking a cheeky smile, summoning a blush from Orvus.

Big Hank waved a tree like arm, “come on, the new hands are shit and I gotta tell you my oldest’s dream he had last night, it’s a wild one.”

The two large men walked down the oak porch and onto a worn dirt path towards the large barn. As they meandered, he took in his little plot of land for the umpteenth time. It was modest but housed many green things. From apple trees, to berry bushes and a plentiful amount of sweet flowers. It was home and he had all he could ever want with it.

Orvus then looked at Hank, perplexed by the idea of another wild dream. He wondered if it was anything like his own, but that would have to wait a moment. There was other priorities to contend with first before stories.

“Hey you ain’t happened to see my own kids have you? Please tell me they did their chores, Hank. I don’t think I can handle another trip into the woods to find Lily’s missing doll. Only for it to be in the barn. I swear, those girls will be the death of me someday.” Orvus said warmly.

Hank furrowed his brow, “I think I saw them working on the chickens earlier, but then the new hand got his pants stuck under one of the screws on the plow and I had to go cut him loose, the moron...”

As Hank continued to droll on, something caught Orvus’ eye and has he turned to look, he noticed a dark figure sitting atop one of the grassy hills overlooking the cottage, a single large tree overhead.

Orvus stopped in his tracks and squinted to see who, or what was under the tree. Hank stopped with Orvus and then nodded, “Ah, yup, a wayward that one. Stumbled into town this morning, been enjoying the view ever since.”

Orvus looked at Hank, “Enjoying the view of my land? Of my house? Dontcha think that’s a bit… Oh I don’t know, strange?” he asked sarcastically. Still, he didn’t mind strangers as long as they kept to themselves, but he felt odd about this one. Hopefully his girls were somewhere out of his view.

“Eh,” Hank grunted, “Yeah, but he was awfully polite and yous are always saying to be nicer to travelers. Don’t you worry, old Keiran has been watching him from his rocker.”

“Not like he can do much else nowadays,” Hank muttered.

He felt a little relief at that fact and began to walk again, “Come on old friend, we got too much work to do to worry about that right now. Let’s just trust Keiran, for what’s it worth. I’m sure he’ll hollar if something is amiss, or he’ll falls asleep. Best not to worry about it.” Orvus finished with a half hearted smile. He couldn’t shake the odd feeling he had, but he couldn’t let it get in the way of the day.

The pair continued their walk, as they did every day, but instead of walking into the barn to wrangle the work horses, Orvus suddenly found his final footfall landing on a patch of grass. Confused the man looked around, he had unwittingly walked up the hill and now stood in front of the sitting man, he didn’t even remember doing it. Looking behind him he saw Hank in the distance, throwing a yolk over the beast of burden.

“W-What? How’d I get up here?” He asked aloud to no one, the odd sensation was growing stronger with each beat of his heart. He looked at the man and saw, a pale figure, dressed in gentlemanly black and wearing a big cheshire grin that unnervingly went up to his dark spiraling eyes.

“You walked, Orvus,” a grainy voice echoed between the two, though K’nell never opened his mouth.

“I walked...but I don’t remember…” He let his voice drop before asking, “Do I know you?” his voice suddenly unsure of itself, as he was slightly taken aback by the man’s appearance. Somehow, this man felt familiar to him, but he couldn’t quite place the voice, or the clothing.

“But of course. I’m K’nell, your brother,” The voice turned between them, “Uncle to your little ones, and In-law to your bride. I’m family.”

His eyebrows furrowed as the man talked. He was receiving some very unsettling vibes from the man. He was his brother? That wasn’t true, because Orvus had been an only child. No… wait… hadn’t he had a twin brother once? No, that wasn’t right either.

Orvus shook his head before speaking, “Look, you must be confused with someone else, I’m an only child.” He took a step back, “I… Uh… gotta get back. It was nice meeting you, K’nell.” he said shakening.

“You can’t leave yet,” K’nell shook his head, his grin never wavering, “you have work to do. A promise to fulfill.”

He stopped in his tracks, “Excuse me? I never made any promise with you. I’ve never even met you before! Now get out of here! I tried to be nice but I won’t be having this...this nonsense!” Orvus said angrily, barely recognizing his own voice.

K’nell sat unwavering, “It wasn’t a promise to me, it was a promise to yourself. I am here to see if you will fulfill such a promise, though I must admit I’m bias in my hopes that you don’t.”

“What are you even talking about? What promise?” Orvus asked perplexed. K’nell had ignored his request to leave. Perhaps if he heard him out the man would go.

“You had promised to destroy, to spread desolation and reverse all of creation,” K’nell answered, “befitting that of the God of desolation.”

As his words rang between the two, a sort of door was unlocked inside Orvus’ mind, and a tiny trickle formed across his subconscious. It was chilling and cold, but it was honest and true.

“So,” K’nell continued, “I am here to see if you will do such a thing.”

Orvus began to remember, his mind unlocking memories like the beginnings of a soft rain. He was a god. A being of destruction. But that wasn’t true! It couldn’t be! He fell to his knees, grabbing his head. He had a life here, he had memories. Good memories, happy thoughts. He was a friend, a husband, and a father! Not some...some monster.

His voice began to waver, “W-What have you done to me!” he cried out.

“I have given you an opportunity,” K’nell sat forward, “a chance. You made a choice once, you can now make it again.”

More memories flashed across his vision. Of anger. An asteroid. An explosion. A loss. A battle. Her screams. A...A promise.

He was Orvus. The God of Desolation, and he was crying. His hands fell forward and gripped the grass he could no longer feel. His voice broke as he spoke to his brother.

”N-No no no no… What… Wha-What have you done...Why have you...this- this isn’t real...why isn’t this real?” he cried softly.

“It’s a possibility,” K’nell answered, “it’s as real as your choice here and now. A seed of truth in every dream, a whisper of reality in every detail: but do you destroy or do you create?”

He waved a hand over the cottage, “do you live?”

Seemingly oblivious to K’nell’s comment, he spoke aloud anyways, .”Rowan...Lily...Ava…” his voice choked up, ”T-There not real. They never w-were.”

“They exist,” K’nell put a finger on Orvus’ forehead, “I found them.”

His mind was spinning with thoughts and emotions he had never even considered to be painful. Yet they were, and they hurt far worse than any physical blow. K’nell was...he was the god of dreams, so why then, did something that was going on in his head, hurt him so much? Orvus looked up at K’nell with raw eyes, tears still streaming down his face

”Why would you… how could you … to me? This dream… why? Why make me feel so… so wrong?”

“It is simply the result of a possibility. You now know both ends to both decisions,” K’nell stood up, “you could have all of this if you wanted, all it takes is one sacrifice, one repentance… but in the end... the choice. Is. Yours.”

Heliopolis was beautiful this time of day, Xiaoli thought. She sat comfortably on a small silk pillow on the barely grassed, still somewhat rocky ground, ponderously sipping a cup of tea next to a low salon table and Nuhe. In all honesty, she had surprisingly enough managed to find a few aesthetically pleasing qualities in the abominable stream; however, she would wholeheartedly prefer this to be the only one of its kind.

She had another small sip of tea. It was not the river itself that frightened her, though. Reluctantly, her mind painted the image of her master the night before. She had attempted to convince herself earlier that that creature had been no master of hers, but a demon in his disguise; regrettably, though, she had later reasoned that whatever demon had possessed her master in the moment had definitely always lived there - it had only taken the meeting with the right personality to lure it out.

She emptied her cup and refilled the teapot with hot water. She admired the unfolding leaves for a moment before lidding the pot again. As she waited for the tea to reach optimal flavour, she dipped her hand into the waters. She sighed softly. No, there was nothing inherently wrong with the river itself. The current was strong, yes, but she felt no hatred, no poison, no vengeance - there was only the pure water from Fengshui Fuyou. She voiced a quiet prayer to let the river flow in peace so that it one day could take its natural shape.

She gently placed her fingers around the handle of the teapot, lifted it up and gracefully poured her cup half full. She placed the pot back down on the table and savoured the fragrance of the dancing steam rising from her cup. The moment was interrupted by a terrible ruckus from the ship behind her and Xiaoli let out a long sigh that became a raspy groan towards the end.

After Shengshi had returned to his chambers the night before, the servants had brought ungodly numbers of wine flasks to his chambers, quantities unusually high, even for him. Xiaoli had attempted to enter the room around midnight, but had immediately been forced back out by drunken scoldings and threats. She had not heard from him since - until now.

“XIAOLI!” The call rung out from the middle spire like a war cry. The girl took a deep breath, stood up, turned around, sat back down again and kowtowed before the dragon’s head, which now supported a tall snakeman who seemed unable to stand straight.

“What does my master wish for?” she asked calmly, forehead still resting on the back of her grounded palms. There was a long hum from above.

“Schpeak up! I can’ hea’h you!”

The girl sighed and sat up. “I said, what does my mast-”
“Don’chu talk back to meh!” said the snake and smashed a wine bottle against the sculpture beneath his feet, coating part of the golden head in a sickly white liquid. The girl flinched and looked down.

“I apologise, my l-lord,” she said, her voice quivering. The snake scowled, though tears were welling up in his eyes. The girl looked up and felt a gasp escape her. The god sniffed loudly and pointed a shaky finger at her.

“Pack up yoursss… Your set! We’h leavin’!” He turned on his tail and set off, but slipped on the wine and fell over. Xiaoli felt her own tears build up upon seeing her master like this. She opened her mouth to speak, cleared her throat and tried again.

“But, but mylord! We just came!”

The snake, now partially back on his tail again, snarled and cursed. “Yesh! And now…” He paused. “We’h leavin’!” He spat on the ground below and roared out a curse. “Kalmaaaar! If you’sh ou’h there-...” He paused to lick his fingers clean of wine. “... If you’sh ou’h there, Architect curse yoouu’h!” He slithered out of her sight. Xiaoli sniffed quietly and wiped her tears away. She finished her tea, placed her rest of her tea leaves in her pouch, and reduced the table and tea set back into the dirt and stone she had constructed it from. She picked up her pillow and climbed aboard.

Upon reaching the deck on the ship, she found that Shengshi had not made it up to his room at all, but had fallen off the back of the dragon’s head and laid unconscious on the wooden deck. She rushed over to him and placed her hand on his sharp-featured face, her tears rushing across her cheeks like small rivers of their own.

“Why…” she whimpered. “Why are you like this?” She attempted to pull the god to his feet, but being only a little over half his height, she could not manage to get a proper grip around the snake. She felt a black bile of frustration build up with her as she tried to drag her master up to his room, and upon reaching his door, that bile had melted into a raging shade of red.

“Is this why you created me? So that I could be your… Your nanny?” She pulled open the doors to be greeted by a punch of alcoholic fumes and an abominable sight unlike anything she had ever seen. The poetry on the walls had been all by clawed away; some paper walls were broken or outright missing; even the god’s priceless calligraphy station had been cloven in two. Xiaoli looked down at her master in disbelief.

“You… You did all this?”

He did not respond. Xiaoli felt her teeth grit and she lifted her arm, bringing it down on her master’s face with such force that, upon impact, her hand broke apart. She screamed in pain and fell back against the wall. She stared at her handless wrist, which was now just a cylinder of fine sand with water on the inside. She then looked at Shengshi. The snake had not responded at all. Xiaoli collapsed to her knees and hung her head in defeat. As a final effort, she pushed her master onto the floor inside her room, reshaped her hand with the sand on the floor and went down on deck.

Once there, she reached out to the waters below and around the ship. The ship slowly began to inch forward, then sped up, until it was tossed into the air by a rocket-like current and carried onwards by a small circulating river underneath the hull. She had to get them somewhere peaceful. Her first thought was Fengshui Fuyou - her master would be delighted to finally come home again, she thought. However, already now, she felt the strain on her body from carrying the ship by herself. No, it had to be closer. They had to find somewhere closer! She reached into her mind, and through it, memories from her master’s mind. She remembered seeing the planet through his eyes before her creation - she saw a region of the world without land. Perhaps there, as far away as possible from everything else, they could rest for a spell.

She steered the streams so the ship turned around. They set off to the southwest.

---

For hours, Xiaoli had seen nothing but ocean. Yes, they had to be close now. She had recently spotted some specks of green far below, but it had likely just been some unpopulated islands. She wiped some of the sweat that pooled on her face away and looked ahead once more. Her eyes widened. What was that ahead? Land?

She had not been mistaken. There was a large island on the horizon before them. From what she could see, there were lakes there, glistening in the light of Heliopolis. She would rather not have Shengshi meet with his sister Ashalla by accident, so a lake would be a much better spot for rest than the ocean.

Xiaoli collapsed to one knee. The strain on her mind was agonising and she felt her grip on the water weakening. She looked up again, barely seeing past the dragon’s head. Her breathing grew more frequent and she grit her teeth. They were too far away. They were not going to make it! They would crash into the oceans below and be at the mercy of Ashalla!

Her other knee gave out and she fell onto her hands. The ship dropped from the sky. As they hurdled towards the sea, Xiaoli tried to regain control, but found that her power was spent. Even her form had begun to give out, droplets of sand and water dripping off her extremities. She felt panic well up inside her - would the impact perhaps destroy her now? She began to lift off the deck as the ship gained more momentum. She snapped around and reached for the planks below with fingers that kept disintegrating. As the water approached like an oncoming wall of stone, Xiaoli cried out for help.

“MASTER!”

---

Xiaoli opened her eyes and felt the familiar planks against her skin. Was she still alive? She then rocketed to a seated position and looked at her hands. Her fingers were present, every single one. She quietly counted them just to make sure. She checked her toes and counted them as well. She assessed her every body part and found them present. She took a quivering breath and wrapped herself in her arms, keeling forward with a quiet, thankful whimper.

After a moment, she looked around. The ship was in the middle of a tranquil lake, surrounded by green plains and mountains on each side. Was this the next life, perhaps? She stood up and pinched herself in the arm. She flinched at the pain and sighed.

“An afterlife where I can feel pain? That was unnecessary…” she muttered.

“Indeed,” muttered a familiar voice. Xiaoli turned abruptly to the dragon’s head behind her to see Shengshi sitting comfortably on top of it, writing poetry. The snake turned his head around and gave her a sad smile.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. Xiaoli stood there dumbstruck.

“How did you save us? You were unresponsive!” she cried out in frustration. The snake sighed and stood up, slithering over to her.

“Yes, I was very much…” He tapped his chin, looking for a good phrase. “Out of it, as one would say, but-”

“No! No, you were not just ‘out of it’, do you understand?!” Shengshi recoiled as Xiaoli stabbed a finger into his face. “You were abhorrent! You were insufferable! You were-” She paused and took a deep breath. “Do you know what I had to do?”

The snake shook his head carefully, cowering somewhat. Xiaoli glared at him. “I had to pull your drunken butt -all the way- up to your room, after -you- decided that we should leave! How many floors are there between the deck at your chambres, hmm?!”

“... F-... Five…” the snake mumbled shamefully.

“Correct! Five floors, each with two flights of stairs, because someone thought it would be more aesthetically pleasing to have longer, flatter steps instead of taller ones!”

The snake deflated. “Well, thank you for putting me back in my room, at lea-”

“Oh yes! and then we come to the subject of Your Lordship’s room! Tell me, how many times have you absolutely decimated it by now? Seven? Eight? Shall we say ten for reality’s sake?”

The snake was, at this point, almost lying on the floor with Xiaoli towering over him.

“N-.. Now I think that is a little unfair, my dea-”

“Do NOT ‘my dear’ me, my lord. I was created to be your voice of reason, heart and advisor on morals, NOT to be your nanny!”

There was a long, deafening silence, broken only by Xiaoli’s ragged breathing. The snake opened his mouth several times to speak, but could not form a coherent sentence. The girl wiped away some tears of frustration and sighed.

“I just-... I just wish you would actually take my advice to heart once in a while…” She lowered her head.

The snake was lost for words. He reached out to her, but his arm retracted itself against his will, or possibly in coherence with it. He slowly pushed himself to his tail again. As he looked his creation in her clear, misty eyes, he felt his heart shatter. What had he done? He looked down at his palms and felt his breathing accelerate.

“I…” He started a sentence, but stopped talking when Xiaoli placed her hands in his and squeezed gently.

“I don’t want to hear you say you’re sorry, my lord.” She looked into his eyes and smiled softly. “Just remember what I said and just-...” She paused. “Just ease down on the drinking, alright?”

The snake looked at her and then at the nature around. The water’s gentle song; the grass dancing in the wind; the mountains glistening in the light. Where had she taken them, actually? All he remembered was waking up at the sensation of flying before hearing Xiaoli’s scream. He had then taken them to the closest body of freshwater and placed them down. He had found Xiaoli unconscious on deck, her body reduced to her torso and her head. He had fixed her as accurately as he could have in his state and had then proceeded to sit on deck and wait until he sobered up.

Now that he was, he felt his chest filling with thick, heavy liquid guilt. The machinations in his mind twisted and turned as he tried to fashion some words to say.

“Xiaoli,” he said quietly. The girl blinked and looked curiously at him. The snake let go of her hands and jumped overboard. The girl stood dumbstruck for a second before rushing over to the railing of the ship. “Wai-! My lord!” The snake was already too far away to hear her. He swam over to the western bank of the lake. From her spot aboard the ship, Xiaoli could see her master perfectly - and see, she did.

The snake slithered onto land and took a deep breath. The scars he had cut into Xiaoli could not be healed in a day - for all he knew, her memories of the monster within him could perhaps never fade. However, he could at the very least show her how much she meant to him. He would make things right in time, but for now, this was the best he could do.

The snake gently rocked the waters around the riverbank with his tail. Once they began to move, he beckoned them over to the sandy shore. The waters danced and jumped with glee as the snake moved his hands gracefully like a painter with a brush. The waters washed ashore, dragging sand and clay along with them. The snake pulled gently at the polluted dirtier waters, making them hop out of the stream and form delicate patterns along the bank. The main river itself curved softly across the grassplains - it did not even drown the grass in its path; it merely pushed it gently aside and let it settle at its banks. There were no cracks as the waters sanded away the ground below; there was only the calming sound of the flow.

The snake slowly slithered along as the river rolled ahead. Obstacles in the way were respected dearly, the waters swerving around them on one or both sides. The water carrying mud and sand tossed themselves onto the banks, sprouting flowers, reeds and shrubberies in intricate patterns. The mud that remained in the water became small fish, amphibians and insects. The snake continued playing his watery instrument and his performance gradually played along with the harmonies of the wind. As he danced along the verdant grass, he began to laugh and sing. Xiaoli, who at this point had brought the Jiangzhou along to witness her master’s work, felt tears of joy well up in her eyes.

There the snake spun and hopped to the music of nature and tranquility, painting the most beautiful landmark upon the world.

---

Heliopolis sat calmly on the horizon. Shengshi and Xiaoli sat in silence along the bank of the new river. The occasional frog came over to inspect the curious creatures, and Xiaoli would let out a sweet giggle and pat the little frog on the back, prompting it to skip right back into the water.

“I have a name for her,” Shengshi finally said. Xiaoli gave him a smile and a curious look.

“What would my lord like to name his new creation?” she asked playfully. Shengshi held his hand over the water and a small fish hopped over it and back into the water on the other side.

“This is the most beautiful river I have ever made…” he said softly. “There is only one name I can think of…”

Xiaoli giggled. “Jiangzhouhe?” she proposed playfully.

Shengshi gave her a warm smile. “Lihe.”

Xiaoli’s eyes widened and she stopped breathing for a moment. Then, her lips parted in a wide smile complemented by misty eyes.

“Yeah… I like that name too, my lord…”

“AH!” Hermes yelped as she landed at an almost blinding speed. To her surprised, her sandals managed to slow her down at a rate that should’ve broken her neck, but in this case, didn’t, not even a little.

A content smile broke across her face. After endless stretches of Ashalla’s blue ocean, she had finally found land in the west, pretty land too. There was grass, that was green strangely enough. A mesmerizingly thick blanket of fog, making Hermes feel completely isolated and alone, and --

”Zzt!”

Hermes rolled her eyes, maybe she wasn’t completely alone. Letting out a small sigh, Hermes began her trek inwards, Poppler swirling around her and playing in the humid mist. Closing her eyes, the woman began to whistle as she strolled, her arms swinging happily. The acoustics were remarkable, her whistle seemingly stretching ad infinitum in all directions, nothing but her, Poppler and the strange green grass for miles.

THUNK!

A plume of Hermes’ alabaster hair erupted as she suddenly smacked right into a wall. Rubbing her nose, the woman peeled her eyes open, suddenly face to face with the outside of a manor - and it was a large manor. Outside, the walls were all adorned with metal and ceramic ornaments, some being strange lanterns hanging off hooks and others being empty ceramic pots on windowsills, awaiting for a kind soul to plant a seed in them and help them fulfill their purpose. It was a beautiful manor, it sure was.

And yet, it was abandoned in this strange misty island, with seemingly no one to look after it. A cursory exploration of the Manor yielded several useless details -- such as a broken window with a dressed up mop on the ground just outside it, and the front doors being slightly ajar.

Hermes poked the door and it creaked as it opened a little more. She pursed her whistling lips and poked it again, the door opening even more. Quickly she slinked right through the opening, Poppler trailing behind her with tittering pops here and there.

Inside the Manor, there were stacks of dirty porcelain plates everywhere, some with food scraps still on them. Had a feast been celebrated here recently, and if so, by whom? The island was deserted. A slight movement in the corner of the room caught Hermes’ sight and she spun to meet it. It was a plate, floating mid-air, levitating on its way to join a nearby stack of plates. When it had joined its brethren, another plate of those left on every surface of the Manor began floating its way to the stack. And another. And another.

Until one plate stopped and froze. Agonizingly slow moments passed, and then the plate began slowly floating toward the source of the Hermes’ endless whistling -- or perhaps was it approaching Poppler’s crackling -- up until it bumped against the woman and reeled back a few feet. Bewildered Hermes reached aimlessly forward with her hands, trying to find the perpetrator, her little cloudling friend whizzing around in confusion.

At that point, the plate floated back to the floor, and remained still. In the distance, or perhaps all around her, a melancholic tune began playing, one that made the mist seem heavy, one that made the air difficult to breathe… One that made the grass look gray.

”H-Hello! I’m, uh, Li’Ka...” The soft voice came from behind Hermes, from the entrance to the Manor. It quickly trailed off into a murmur. It was a woman dressed in a simple blue dress, ragged at the heels. Her skin was deathly pale with the exceptions of the intense blush on her cheeks, and she wore a slightly defiant expression on her face. She seemed to be trying too hard to be regal. In her arms she carried a small Box, from which the distant tune came.

Hermes seemed to shrink, her lips turning into a big smile but her eyes slightly worried, “My name is Hermes, and this is Poppler.”

”Pop pop!”

“Is this your home?” Hermes questioned, her voice crossed between a little shy and enthusiastic to meet another person. Her eyes flickered to the box of sounds curiously. The cloudling spun around Li’Kalla as if matching Hermes curiosity.

”Hermes,” Li’Kalla looked up for a second, then looked back at Hermes, ”Y-You could say it is my home, but… In truth I haven’t lived here for a long time…” Li’Kalla said with her eyes following Poppler closely. ”Tell me, y-you’re not a God, right?”

“I’m a Dreamer” Hermes announced proudly. She pointed at the black swirl on her forehead, “made by God!”

Li’Kalla looked at Hermes, and laughed, ”Pffhahaha!” Her face looked much prettier with a smile on it -- Hermes began laughing along with her, albeit confused -- and after laughing Li’Kalla blew on Poppler, the little cloudling spiraling in the wind. ”What is he? He seems to be made of clouds. Did you know I created clouds? He’s very cute.”

“I know now,” Hermes took a step closer, the cloudling zipping right into her nest of hair, “do you like making clouds?” Her eyes bounced again to the curious cube.

”I… Don’t know?” Li’Kalla shrugged, the movement causing the box to shift a little in her arms. She gasped and fixed her grip on it, ”Uh, it’s just my duty, you know.”

”... Are you hungry? There might still be some leftovers from when Chopstick came over to cook...”

Hermes nodded, she remembered K’nell planting the idea of food in her head though she never needed it, it was definitely an experience worth experiencing, “I want to eat a lot.”

“Can we eat?” She pushed, any facade of being shy now long gone, “and you can tell me about making clouds and cooking with Chopstick, and about your sound cube, and your home, and your dress, and why you have the same skin as me.”

She punctuated her last list item by holding out her colorless arms, “I like it.”

Li’Kalla smiled demurely and set down the Box of Orchestration on a nearby chair, then she went up to Hermes and -- after almost grabbing her hand and then regretting her choice at the last moment -- led her to another room, the dining room. It resembled more of a Hall, with a table so large that fifty people could easily sit and eat by its side. This part of the Manor was clean, and Li’Kalla excitedly drew a chair for Hermes.

”Sit, please! I will bring the food in just a second, Hermes! I will answer your questions over some food.” And with that, Li’Kalla left the Dreamer alone in a fancy room, with silver goblets and cutlery and gold-embroidered cloths covering the chairs.

Hermes quickly -- as quick as her sandals would allow her -- zipped through the room, stopping at precise moments to study various objects and creating so much wind that the cloths began to wave and Poppler was forced to hide deeper inside her jungle of hair. Her intelligent dark eyes nearly bulged as she soaked in all the new stimulus.

“I like it,” She concluded as she attempted to juggle two of the goblets, resulting in a loud clattering as they crashed to the floor before she went to go grab something else.

“I like it a lot,” She announced loudly, standing on top of the table, “it’s all very pretty.”

”It is! Isn’t it?”

Li’Kalla entered the dining room with a plate of leftovers on each hand. There were lots of meat, both aquatic and terrestrial and perhaps aerial on one of the plates drizzled with different sauces, and the other plate held a mighty salad including several vegetables cooked to varying degrees of perfection.

”Come on, sit!” She said as she set down the two plates on the table and sat down, patting the seat next to her which ended up not being the one she had drawn for Hermes before.

The Dreamer leaped off of the table, and somehow through a strange work of acrobatics she managed to land on her bum, square in the seat. Her eyes scanned the smorgasbord before her. Poppler suddenly emerged from Herme’s now heavily knotted hair and made a beeline for some of the more sugary of sauces, rolling around in it happily. Taking a cue from the cloudling, Hermes grabbed a handful of salad and mashed it into her mouth.

Li’Kalla giggled and rested her elbows on the arm of her chair and in turn her head on her hands. For a few moments she watched happily as Hermes ate, and then her expression became a little more serious. [color=steelblue]”Your question about my skin, and yours -- I don’t really know. I’m sorry.”[color] She seemed truly sad that she couldn’t give Hermes an answer.

“That’s okay,” Hermes patted Li’Kalla’s hand, leaving a tacky residue which quickly vanished due to Li’Kalla’s eternally soaking wet skin, “it’s good skin anyways.”

”Pop pop pop…” The cloudling was completely covered in sugar meat glaze, prompting a hearty laugh from Hermes and a big eerily-cheshire smile.

”The other question, about the ‘Sound Cube’? That is, uhm… A Gift, I suppose,” She sighed, ”From Vakk. I don’t like listening to it… I can’t let a gift be wasted, though, it wouldn’t be righ-”

“I like it!” Hermes cut the god off, “it makes a sound without a mouth-”

”Zzt!”

“Or… a cloud?” Hermes shrugged.

Li’Kalla smiled and tilted her head. Slowly, she pointed a finger at Hermes and poked her cheek. Hermes accepted the poke with a wide grin, her warm flesh scrunching from the sensation of a wet finger, and as if mirroring Li’Kalla she reached out with her own finger and poked Li’Kalla’s cheek.

”Ah-” Li’Kalla gasped and recoiled a little, before breathing deeply and settling down again, ”I’m sorry… It’s been a long time since I’ve felt… Anyone, in this kind of way.” She said lamely and went on to caress Hermes’ cheek gently, before turning and passing her a cloth to dry herself.
“It’s okay, it was an experience,” Hermes took the cloth and wiped her face, “Experiencing is living and living is my purpose.”

”Huh, not all experiences are good to have, Hermes. I’m sure you’ll understand that one day.”

“Maybe,” Hermes paused, “But if I stop, good or bad, I am no longer living, and that’s not very good in itself.”

Li’Kalla directed her gaze to an unseen horizon, a place far away, and she frowned. ”Sometimes they make you feel like you’d rather never have been born in the first place...” After a moment, she suddenly turned to look at Hermes again, ”Can you promise me something?”

“I’ve never done that before, so I’m going to go with a hard yes,” Hermes smiled, “I will promise you.”

”Be happy. You’re too pure, just like I used to be… So, be happy! If you need someone to talk to, I’m here, alright?”

Hermes thought for a moment, “Are you sad?”

Li'Kalla looked away, “... Having you here makes me happier. That goes for you too, Poppler.”

”Pop!”

Hermes nodded, “Why don’t you come along with me on my journey? It’s fun and I like it a lot, you might too.”

Li’Kalla perked up like a child, leaning close to Hermes with wide sparkly eyes, ”Really?! Can I, can I? Oh yes! We’re going to the mountains, and then, then we’ll go to Skaia and Peppercorn Ranch and maybe go for Ice Cream in that one stall in Arms’ Haven and-” Li’Kalla was just short of pressing her nose against Hermes’ when she froze and grinned warmly, ”Yay! My first trip with a friend, I’ve waited so long for this! Oh gosh, w-we’ll meet new friends, and- and see new things and be away from our duties and families!”

Most of Li’Kalla’s words were strange to Hermes, but each one made her smile grow, slightly leaning back as the Goddess got closer, “I like it! I want to try all those things!”

She reached out and poked Li’Kalla’s cheek in the same spot as before, “good to have you on board, friend.”
Li’Kalla grabbed Hermes’ hand with hers the moment she poked her and giggled, ”It’s been so long since I’ve had a friend, too!” But suddenly, the happy Goddess’ enthusiasm started dissipating and she let go of Hermes’ hand. ”Although, I still have some things to do around here… Do you think, um, we could go another time…? Yeah… Duties, you know...” Li’Kalla said with a sigh and a roll of her eyes, which upon seeing the empty plates of food, prompted her to stand up.

”I suppose I’ll clean these up. You can take whatever you want from the Manor as a souvenir, if you will. I have no use for any of these things, anyway.” And with that, Li’Kalla disappeared behind a door.

Hermes’ smile disappeared into a small frown as her new friend left. She just found out, “I don't like goodbyes.”

She let out a disappointed sigh and slouched as she walked out of the room. Slowly her posture regained it's cheery stature as she realized it wasn't a final goodbye and in time she will see her friend again. She stopped.

In front of her the sound box was playing its tune. Hermes scanned the room cheekily, souvenir! With one quick motion, and not a protest from Poppler --who had absorbed the sugar and nestled back into her hair-- Hermes swiped the box and tucked it under her arm.

“I'll come back!” She shouted as she walked happily out the door, a whistle breaking her lips.

Once outside Hermes turned to soak in the view of the manor one final time. A gentle smile broke across her face, she had found a friend. With a happy nod she suddenly burst into the sky, cleaving through the fog at an incredible speed.



An hour had passed and Hermes now darted through the sky, westward once more and with the endless Ashalla blue stretching beneath her in all directions. Slightly bored, she lifted the sound box to her face and began to fiddle with it.

“Uh!” She grunted as the wind knocked it out of her grasp, only for her to catch it- “ah!”

It juggled out of her hand and she swiped to grab it again. All her fingers caught was air as the box fell below her. Before she could even dash to catch up with it, it was out of sight.

“Oops,” her voice shrunk, and slowly turned back into a whistle, albeit a suspicious one as she continued her journey.





The Dreamer stared at K'nell. The two face to face in the Palace of Dreams. Hermes had recounted her journey so far, soliciting a pause from K'nell. The silence lasted for a long time, forcing Hermes to jitter in place until finally K'nells voice echoed thoughtfully.

“Perhaps there is more.”

---

---

Soon enough, Melantha started closing in on Katharsos' Sphere. The strange spheres of energy that populated the area near the death god's home were certainly felt by her. After a closer look at one of them using her divine sense revealed that they were, in fact, giant balls of flame suspended in space, Melantha became even more curious about Katharsos' strange ways. Why would someone create and scatter around things such as these? What was their purpose?

It was then that Melantha felt a different type of energy, a more faint and ethereal one. The great surge of souls heading towards the inner reaches of the Sphere gave out an entirely different tone to the whole image she had conjured up in her mind. Masking her presence from them, Melantha flew silently along the current of souls, observing them and occasionally probing them with her senses. Having steeled herself about learning how to forget, Melantha's only clue was the strange soul ash, the origin of which was seemingly Katharsos' Sphere and these very same souls. The dark goddess toyed with the ashen bead in her hand that she had condensed from the ash she had previously gathered. With her thoughts swirling all over the place, she nevertheless decisively plunged inside the foreign Sphere, opting to put aside her questions for when she eventually met Katharsos.

---

The god of death suspended himself in space, hovering right beside the raging flames of a great pyre. The mighty flames writhed, licked, contracted and expanded with the coming of more souls, so by comparison even Katharsos' gently burning form looked utterly still and statuesque.

Looking into the depths of the pyre was akin to watching a wild and uncoordinated play unfold, with each actor trying in vain to take the spotlight and tell their own story. The memories that the burning souls released into the flames tasted of hope, despair, passion, love, and (quite often, for those broken souls that yet remained) agony muddled with incomprehensible madness. It was hard to stare into the vastness of the flames and take in more than the occasional flash of a lifetime without focusing intently upon a given individual, and there were no individuals in that particular moment that caught his utter attention so.

He was left to behold the entirety of the souls' experiences then, or at least the small fraction of the vastness that his mind was able to latch onto and comprehend. Even then, his mind did not come to acquire as much as it might have, for he had been lost in thought for many days and not especially attentive to the fires.

Since Seihdhara's words to him, his mind had been plagued. The journey down to Galbar and his conversation with Ashalla had been nothing but a brief moment of respite, a bright and clean glimpse of lucidity within the quagmire of the greater reality. Troubled thoughts beset him, and though he was certainly not bereft of the inner strength and determination that it took to stay true to his path, he found himself caught in an endless argument as he tried to justify his actions. This time the accuser was not Seihdhara, but rather just her voice. Occasionally, there were other voices too, but he knew them all just be disjointed aspects of his own conscience. How he loathed those voices so! He understood well the mindsets of mortals and all the faults and fallacies of their thoughts (or so Katharsos believed!) and so he just as easily realized that these voices were nothing but figments of his own glazed imagination. They were hallucinations, harmless as they only held as much power and sway over his mind as he gave them. Yet even as he cursed his mind for being weak enough to suffer such a schism and conjure such voices, and even as he knew that in doing so he only gave the voices more power and made them more real, he argued.

Not because he was in doubt, of course, for though he went into every conversation with an open mind and strived to never become fixed in false witness to the illusory merit of flawed ideals, he ultimately listened to each and every one of Seihdhara's (or those other nameless voices') arguments and condemnations fall flat and hollow. They were like children; they were too immature, or perhaps too shortsighted, or even too naive to realize that what he did was necessary and that the alternatives were... grisly... terrible... fruitless. So though they might call his actions a necessary evil, his 'necessary evil' or indeed any 'necessary evil' was ultimately no evil at all.

The main reason that he argued with the voices was to try to make them understand. His own guilt and doubts and sorrow for the burden that he carried was enough; it was almost shattering to think that instead of thanking him for his sacrifice, they condemned him and thought of him as a tyrant. Perhaps even an abomination. They were so shortsighted, but that was all. They just didn't understand, but if he could just find and use the right combination of words, perhaps they could be made to. Their words and their actions were rooted in misunderstanding, not hatred and cruelty. He had to believe that.

---

Immediately upon her entry, an uncomfortable feeling overwhelmed her. To say that the space inside the Sphere was different was an understatement. Huge masses of billowing clouds filled her surroundings, and Melantha could feel a deathly aura being emitted from them, akin to the aura of the souls she had come upon earlier. "A fitting residence for a god of death, that is for sure..." Melantha could practically smell death in the smoke released from the strange fires hidden amidst the many nebulae that dotted the inside of the Sphere. Behind her mask of darkness her eyebrows frowned up, but her curiosity was enough that she was not deterred by the strange sights and smells of Katharsos' Sphere.

Melantha had found him hovering next to a giant ball of fire, watching the flow of souls falling to their demise inside the pyre. He had yet to notice her presence, and Melantha was not in a hurry to change that. The dark goddess quietly observed the distracted Katharsos though her divine sense, the fluctuating flare-ups of the fiery mane that surrounded his animalistic visage clearly visible in her mind's eye. Melantha could understand that the god of death had a very introspective personality as even after having waited for quite some time, she realised that she would have to make herself known to him in order for her visit to have any meaning.

"Katharsos..." Her voice was soft but clear enough to break the silence and, hopefully, Katharsos' trance.

His fiery head effortlessly spun around to face the source of the voice (for he felt this one be more real than all the others) and gaze into the blackness of the void between the stars. Melantha had a way of blending into that inky emptiness, but the light of the pyre and Katharsos' own brazen head cast light upon her like great torches and illuminated her silhouette. There was a hint of surprise evident upon Katharsos' face, though not panic. The dark bronze of his mane gave way to a friendlier gold after he recognized the unexpected visitor.

"Melantha," he breathed back, and the force of that one word pushed away the hazy fog and smoke, and suddenly she was freed of all but the faintest smell of that rancid smoke that permeated his Sphere, and its nauseating effect similarly was waned as it was dispelled. "I am glad to have your company."

Taking note of Katharsos' consideration, Melantha nodded her thanks before moving closer towards him. One would think that after spending so much time among the funeral fires, Katharsos would have long been infused with the aura they emitted, but as she now face to face with the god of death, she found herself unable to sense any kind of deathly aura coming from him. An interesting observation, but inconsequential in the end. Melantha collected her thoughts and returned his greeting.

"Thank you for having me, Katharsos. I hope to not have ruined your state of contemplation," Melantha replied.

He briefly contemplated telling her the truth--that in disturbing his solitude, she had offered him relief if anything, yet ultimately rejected the notion. He did not yet know why she had come, after all. And it seemed selfish to lay his own burdens down upon her, in any case. So he answered her with every bit of warmth and genuine care that he had, even as he kept his innermost thoughts closed away. "My meditations can wait. There will be time enough for them; however, time spent in the company of others is precious and always to be cherished above all else."

"Mhmm," Melantha listened to him and nodded her assent. "For some, the company of others can indeed be a precious source of contentment. For others, it is only in solidarity that they can truly be who they are. It is all a matter of perspective..."

She turned her attention to the giant pyre some distance away from them, and "watched" as the souls slowly entered in whole and exited as grains of ash and dust, scattering in space and carried outside the sphere and into the rest of the universe, tiny seeds of life waiting to find a new vessel to make their home. "What is a soul, Katharsos? For me, they are nothing but tiny specks of energy, weak beyond comparison, and yet they are able to bring life to even the most powerful of beings, namely deities, like ourselves. How is that so?" Melantha posed a set of questions to the god of death, opting to ease into the topic of memories and the reason for her visit by asking some general questions first.

"Souls are something vital--a resource, like food or water, without which life does not thrive. You yourself have identified their importance, so you will understand that they are a most prized resource indeed, one that must be conserved and cared for. But they are more than that, too. Though it might make my purpose more palatable to see souls as mere 'specks of energy' as you call them, they are something sacred and special. We can conjure food and water with mere thoughts, but to conjure a new soul? It seems...impractical, if not impossible. For that reason, and for more sentimental ones, I find myself awed by souls. Each one must be cherished, no matter how large or small. Here, though it pains me, I must recycle the souls of the dead that new ones may form and life can go on," he slowly explained in an even tone before realizing that he'd rambled. "But perhaps you think that I did not answer your question directly. I told you what I think of souls. To actually speak of souls? I admit that they are something of an enigma that I still struggle to understand. In time, I will come to unravel their mysteries and better understand their nature...or so I hope."

Somewhere along his speech, Melantha turned her attention back to him and listened on as he explained his interpretation of souls to her. Admittedly, she felt somewhat disappointed by what she got. "I see," she said with a sigh. "It seems that even the god of death has limited knowledge on a topic such as this."

Melantha raised her pale hand and pointed at the pyre. "Let's talk about something closer to you, maybe?" she suggested. She brought her other hand forward, and from within her palm a small black vortex spat out the soul ash bead she had. As it lay there in her palm, ready for inspection, the contrast between the colours of the shiny greyish bead, her pale skin, and the light emitted from Katharsos' flames made for a quite interesting little image indeed. "I discovered a peculiar kind of ash drifting into my Sphere recently. After capturing some, I observed the properties of souls in them, although faint to the point of inconspicuousness."

A soft growl escaped his head, now resemblant of a lion, as he muttered one word, "Impurities."

Melantha raised a brow due to his reaction but continued on. "These..." Melantha pointed at the pyre with her hand again, "fires, let's say. I assume that this soul ash is the byproducts of whatever is happening inside of them?"

"The soul ash is not a mere byproduct, but rather the sole reason that I made this place. Deteriorated souls can be recycled to yield that ash, and given sufficient time, that ash can take the form of new souls. Life can spring forth given this soul ash to enable it, and the cycle can continue. There is one ill byproduct. It is this smoke all around us; you doubtless felt it as you came to me here. I try to confine its taint here that the harm is mitigated, but nonetheless, some of it fails to separate from the ash. On Galbar, I have created a crude mechanism to cleanse the taint, but the ash that drifts to your realm would have no such way to be purified. For that, you have my apologies. Perhaps I can help you to purify the ash of your Sphere and be rid of the impurities' lingering stench and aura."

"Oh, I will take you up on that offer then. Although I do not really mind it, I suppose any future beings that might come to reside in my Sphere will not take kindly to it," Melantha said thoughtfully. "Anyway, on a different note; I wonder how this... "purifying" process of yours works exactly? I find it quite interesting that you have managed to somehow create souls anew, in a sense, even though you yourself just now told me that it is practically impossible to do so. What exactly goes on inside that flame, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Souls are not birthed here, nor are they truly destroyed. These pyres just recycle them. Ash to ash."

"Well, yes, that's what I meant when I said 'create souls anew'. But you didn't really answer my question..." Melantha replied.

For a long, long time she received only silence and his level stare as an answer. Melantha, however, waited patiently. She could not see that Katharsos was staring at her and thus thought he was just gathering his thoughts.

As in for Katharsos, he grappled with the question of whether to tell her the truth of it and if he did, of whether to try to lighten the gravity of just what occurred inside the pyres. He could justify it easily enough--his cause and his actions were just, after all, but there was the eminent question of whether Melantha would understand. Even after endlessly debating himself over the blurring and unintelligible timespan of his trance, he felt... reluctant to truly debate Melantha and try to argue his case, even if he was prepared.

But would he ever want to face judgement? It seemed unlikely, and in the end, perhaps Melantha would be more sympathetic to the harsh nature and grim of reality and to the correct interpretation of the greater good. So, he finally decided to tell her.

"I ask that you not be harsh or rash in your judgement of me or your actions; know that I value your sentiment dearly. Allow me to explain what happens here: these cold yet raging infernos scattered about us contain no mundane flames. They are magical fires that incinerate memory and emotion, and through their otherworldly and intangible heat, they break down and crack apart the ether, soul-stuff. When mortal souls enter the flames, they undergo a catharsis and are made to surrender their memories, one by one, reliving their life thought by thought until there is nothing left to burn. And then they are ash, ready to be scattered that new souls and new life may form.

"It is a grisly and perhaps ignoble ending, but it is the only way. In my meditations, I have contemplated the other paths and deemed them all ultimately worse...more disruptive to the balance of things."

He looked to her in anxious anticipation of whatever reaction her shrouded face might reveal. Melantha, for the most part, stayed quiet throughout the explanation. It was only after sensing that Katharsos was finished that she found herself exhaling the breath she had been holding in. Truly, she did not, could not, imagine that this is what had been going on inside those pyres. She took a few seconds to sum up everything she had heard.

"This... I have to admit that this is not what I imagined death would be... To relive everything one last time, I cannot begin to imagine the strain this puts on the soul..." Melantha told him and continued. "A lifetime of memories stripped away one by one... no wonder the souls collapse afterwards," she concluded.

"I do not derive pleasure from presiding over this eternal holocaust, but one of us had to do it."

"Eternal..." Melantha turned towards the pyre in deep thought. Although she could not see the blazing flames taking in the souls, she could feel the energy they let out as they burned brilliantly one last time. Eventually, she decided it was time to tackle the topic of her visit.

"Katharsos, do you think this same process can work on divine souls as well as it works on other souls?"

Of this, he was certain. "Divine souls? I do not know if there is even such a thing. The ichor, that which imbues us with power and divinity, seems wholly separate from the soul. One of our fellow divines met an untimely demise, and upon arriving here, seemed to be in a rather weak and mundane state. It seems natural to conclude that the process would go much the same for one of our souls."

Oh? A god has died already? I wonder who...

There was a pause. But then before he allowed her to respond, he had to clarify, "But I did not verify this, as I refrained from committing the one in question to the pyres...not this time. My sentiment stopped me."

"Hmm, a very noble thing to do," Melantha did not like how that word rolled off her tongue, but she didn't dwell on it. "You said earlier that memories and emotions are burned by the fire. Does that mean that those two are inherently tied to the soul?"

Katharsos was stricken by that word. It was very peculiar that she called such an action noble of all things, and though he pondered such a choice of words for a short time then and for an eternity later on once his solitude was renewed, he didn't stumble upon it or get caught upon it in conversation.

"They seem to share a powerful affinity for one another, though they are not one and the same. The astral fires here can thoroughly burn memory and the other various 'dyes' that colour a soul, but the soul itself is of hardier stuff. When subjected to the pyres, a soul is broken down into smaller units that can later reform into new souls. Thus, it is due to the memories and other aspects of a being that we are left with all of these nebulous clouds of waste product, as well as these faint...impurities in the soul ash," he offered, but then he began to think, and it was his turn to ask a question. "You seem most fascinated by these phenomena, Melantha. Am I too optimistic in my hope that this is because you would like to assist me?"

"Ah, this... unfortunately no. Although, as you said, I find this process interesting, death, and I mean not to offend you in saying this, is not really something that I plan on tackling anytime soon. As much as I wish this universe remained a utopia in its emptiness, the rest of the pantheon along with the Architect seems to have other ideas about it. The reason for my visit today and the motive behind my questioning is entirely personal." Melantha stopped there, for a second hesitating to continue on. What would happen if he refused to help? Of course, she would have to find another way. Her determination would not deteriorate due to one small step back.

The frown upon Katharsos' face and tinges of green in his flames didn't conceal his disappointment very well.

"I want to learn to reproduce what you are doing here, albeit in a smaller, individual if you will, scale. Would it be possible to create the necessary conditions that would enable the burning of memories without the soul breaking down due to it?"

"So you have come to ask for my assistance," he concluded. "I could help you do this, but I must question whether I should."

"I must admit, you would not be gaining much, if anything, from helping me achieve this. I have no real offer I can put forth in exchange for this type of knowledge. However, much like how you have a role and a purpose to fulfil, so do I. By helping me with this, you would be contributing towards the eventual realization of my purpose and the Architect's plans for this universe," Melantha said, the latter part of her speech being especially taxing for her to admit, considering she still had doubts about the Architect's motives.

"What part of your role pertains to meddling with the memories of others?" He stopped to think for a moment, realizing that she might see hypocrisy in that. "I destroy memory in order to recycle souls; besides, the dead need not clutch onto memory. I think it natural and good that life may begin upon a blank slate and each soul can make of its own existence what it will, its experience fresh and unsullied by its predecessors. For what cause would you tamper with the memories of the living?"

Melantha sighed, seemingly abandoning trying to conceal her true intentions. "It's not so much as tampering with other's memories as tampering with my own memories."

There was an instant where a dozen prismatic colours flashed rapidly through Katharsos' bewildered eyes. He blinked, a strange look upon his face, and rested there confounded and visibly struggling to comprehend what he'd just heard. His eyes asked, 'Why?'

"I.. I have been suffocating in self-doubt and uncertainty ever since our summoning that fateful day by the Architect. You yourself were not present when it happened since you left right after awakening, but I chose to ask Him a simple question, one that any of the other gods could have asked in my place." The goddess turned her back to Katharsos, the darkness around her fluctuating erratically, evidently influenced by her roiling emotions.

"Yet, he did not even deign to answer such a simple question. Instead, he showed a level of disdain towards me for even thinking of questioning him that completely shattered whatever illusion his 'brainwashing' had induced upon me." Melantha flew closer to the soul pyre, however, the little bit of heat emitted from it was barely felt by her.

"Have you ever stopped and considered why? Why were we summoned in this universe? Every single moment since being brought here from the endless Beyond, I have pondered on this question. At first, I came to a single conclusion, that we were just an experiment—his playthings if you will. From atop his throne, he watches as we go along our lives, a false sense of freedom and purpose instilled in our minds that most other gods take for granted. What purpose? Smoke and mirrors, and nothing more..."

"I once vowed to myself to stop worrying about His motives behind our summoning, but time and time again I have broken that vow. I know that If I continue to have these doubts, there will come a day that I will break. I will fly into a rage and start destroying everything around me. Evidently, the Architect would not have any of it. That would also be the moment I cease. In the end, I decided that the only way to prevent that from happening would be to seal away my memories of that time, maybe even destroy them along with any doubts I have. By curbing my own self-destructive thoughts, I will gain the ability to survive under the shadow cast by Him."

Turning her attention to Katharsos once more, Melantha continued. "This is the reason behind my visit. You are evidently the only deity well versed in the matters of souls and hence, the only one that I can ask for help in this matter. What say you?"

In his attentive state of listening, Katharsos had appeared deathly silent and still and pallid the whole time, or as close to those things as flames could ever be. When Melantha finally stopped speaking, he still remained quiet in his contemplation. For a long long time, she had the pleasure of waiting.

Who knew if it was an hour or a day or a week that passed? It might have been easier to track the time by counting the endless souls that were arrived before the duo. There were the spirits of plankton and plants and critters (and still a fair few broken ones from Beyond) but the tides of their wispy forms seemed to all meld together into a meaningless blur.

"I think that you are rash. Do you not see that fault in yourself--that you jump to conclusions so quickly?" were the words that he finally spoke. The irony there would eluded him.

"...but if you have contemplated yourself and deemed your mind's destination true, and this the surest path, then who am I to deny you?"

"I wish I could find a better solution, but this is the only thing I can currently think of. Maybe one day, in the future, I will be able to release myself of this self-induced restriction without the aforementioned consequences..."

"You have swayed me," he assured her. He took a moment to internally breathe. "Burning away the intangible is no small feat, but not beyond your capability, especially given my tutelage. The first step for this, as with all things, is to breathe and reflect..."

---

---

---

Hmm...

How disappointing, was what Kalmar thought, as he stood before the end of the river.

Shengshi had done a sloppy job when constructing it. It seemed to Kalmar as if very little effort had been put into it, as though the lizard had just sawed straight through and decided that the job was done. Was that out of spite - in retaliation for the warning Kalmar had issued? It had to be deliberate, for Kalmar had seen another river and it was not so crude. If it was, the snake was even more of a fool than Kalmar had already imagined. After all, the warning had been completely fair given Shengshi's earlier actions, and if a bruised ego prevented a god from fulfilling their task to the best of their ability, then perhaps they did not deserve their godhood. Perhaps.

Still, insufferable or no, Shengshi was not a threat to all life unlike a certain other deity, and therefore Kalmar saw no reason to deliberately start needless conflict over such a petty issue. The river was still an eyesore to look at, however. Kalmar had decided to continue calling it Easthe. Shengshi seemed to think the name was ugly. Fine - an ugly name for an ugly river created by an ugly man.

Kalmar pushed the lizard from his thoughts, and temporarily forgot about him. He had to continue creating. His role was to create predators. Yet predators needed prey, prey needed plants, and plants needed water. If given time, plants would sprout around water and the rest would soon follow. Thus, the solution was to add more water. He would add to the river with a lake.

Alas, the lake could not be overly large, for he had so little power left. But the size meant it did not take much time or effort. It was roughly circular in shape, though not perfectly, of course, and populated by various species of fish. He left an island in the middle which he stood upon when it was completed. It was almost like the lake he had created back in his sphere, he realized. And it vaguely resembled an eye. The Hunter's Eye, he would call it.

He lied down, and stared up at Galbar's sky. He could use some relaxation, he realized. Yet, he could not grow complacent, lest another god sneak up on him. Then he recalled Xiaoli, Shengshi's... servant? Something like that could be useful to him, he realized. He sat up, and decided to create one for himself.

His creation would be a bird, with a wingspan of a little over four feet. It had brown feathers speckled with red, along with razor sharp yellow claws and a pointy beak. He liked the look of it, and decided he would create other similar birds at some point. They wouldn't be as powerful, of course, but their appearance would be just as graceful. He would call them falcons. The species, of course, not this particular bird. This bird would be called... Arryn.

"I name you Arryn," Kalmar informed the bird. "Serve me well, and be treated well." The bird nodded in understanding. "Your first task, Arryn, is to keep watch while I rest. And alert me, if anything approaches." He instructed.

"Kak! Kak!" the falcon cawed out, and Kalmar heard a telepathic voice inside his head say Yes, master. Arryn took flight, moving at an astounding speed as he repeatedly circled the island, before slowing down to a more reasonable speed that allowed it to better keep track of its surroundings.

Kalmar lied back on the ground, watching his new avatar circle overhead as the clouds passed by. He did not know how long he lay there, but he found it quite relaxing. He closed his eyes, and eventually drifted off to sleep...

---

There was quiet on Veradax, crushing and final, like the depths of the ocean. Not even the wind dared to blow, nor did the dust feel like moving. The storm clouds grew thick and heavy with silence, further blocking what little sunlight from Heliopolis managed to slip in, while bathing the land in eternal twilight. The scarlet lightning held bated breath, incapable of etching the skies with its anger. As the moon mourned, deep within a valley sat a grieving god underneath a blackened tree.

Orvus had awoken from his dream, hand outstretched in the air, trying to grasp something he never knew he had wanted. He sat upon his knees upon the dry soil like that for a long time, motionless. As the lights began to fade from his body, he brought his arm down and looked at both of his hands, teary eyed. Shadowy black stared back up at him, not a hint of flesh and bone would there ever be. His hands balled into fists as he let his head fall down to meet them, and there he rested in agony.

He wept silently, his shattering tears forming a canvas of light that mimicked stars. His body became dull, there was no more light emitting from it, even his eyes dimmed to a dark grey, and the shadowy vapor coalesced to his form, then vanished, leaving behind a pale image of what Orvus had been. As his body seemingly shut down, his mind ran rampant with emotions, thoughts, and the memories of a life that were never his is own. It was all consuming, like being perpetually spun around in a whirlpool, fighting to break free, hanging on the edge less he be swallowed whole.

The memories haunted him and defied his logic. It had just been a dream in the end, but Orvus struggled with the thought that it had felt so real. What had K’nell done to him, to make him so...so happy and then for it to be stripped away so that he could be reminded of what reality actually was? He had had a family, a life, a home...but it wasn’t real.

K’nells cryptic words echoed in his mind above the chorus of pain, over and over again. Of promises, creation, destruction, possibilities, repentance, sacrifice, a… a choice… But amidst K’nell’s grainy voice came one sentence above all others.

“They exist.”

Something broke in Orvus, and he let out a desperate, bone chilling wail as he punched the dirt before him, leaving a small crater. For a moment his hand was coated in the tan soil, reminding him of the flesh that the dream had created. He stared at it, then wiped it away. They did not exist, they never did, and they never would. K’nell had lied to him and hurt him in a way even Orvus thought he was incapable of feeling.

Slowly the god pulled himself closer to the tree, and there he curled into a ball at the base of the glowing trunk.

His thoughts felt heavy, and he was empty inside. Numb. So numb. His crying ceased, he had no more tears to shed. SIlent contemplation was all that remained for him. His first dream had shown him to create things that destroy, his second wanted him to truly pick. Creation or destruction.

Creation.

Or.

Destruction.

And that question would cripple his frayed soul to inaction, as he let himself be swallowed by the whirlpool.

Vakk had expected this travel to the God of Souls to be something that would not take too long of a time, especially since it just to fulfill his own sadistic needs. However, as he forced open a way from the So’E to go to a different sphere, he had miscalculated his route and now he knew this endeavor would take far too long for his liking. The Lord of Speech felt utterly defeated for a moment, temporarily allowing the feeling of dread to catch up with him, but he calmed himself as he knew if he thought through this situation that he could easily get out. Yet, he could always just backtrack and go a different route.

The temporary gateway had closed.

Now he was trapped. He was trapped in a domain of a god that he knew would be hostile to him. He was trapped in the domain of a god who would make his time exceedingly more difficult. He was trapped, a rat in a den of snakes.

It was the Infinite Maze.

Vakk sighed out of annoyance and pressed forth into the endless abomination that would trap him for some time. Though, he knew that he could outsmart the likes of Eurysthenes, for he had done it before. The Lord of Speech, upon reaching the first junction, decided to travel upwards and go over the maze’s exceptionally tall walls. As he had before, he would go around the answer and not search endlessly for it. He would take such glee in falsely solving the God’s puzzle, just to mock him and torture him for locking him out of his own domain. A cheater was doing what he did best.



After the great underground maze had been completed, Eurysthenes would have liked to relax, though it felt something moving in its domain. Something large. This was going to be fun.
With the haste granted by its many legs, it reached the staircase and scaled it in no time. Soon enough to see Vakk trying to cheat. This possibility, one of the gods flying over, had not been considered.

Ever so quickly, This One seals off the top with a fine mesh, purposed to hurl anyone who touched it back to the ground. The mesh glowed faintly and hissed when anything drew near. The very fibers of it hummed with denial. Next, Eurysthenes seemed to split into a million of it, all hovering and looking down at Vakk, the endless blue eyes acting as a stripping backdrop, baring Vakk down to his core.

”This is the question all who find themselves lonely come nightfall ask themselves. The question one who guards may ask an intruder. The question that those who trespass in guilt ask. The question that those confused ask. And, naturally, the question that we ask now,” These Ones clicked without mouths while watching Vakk without eyes.

”Why are am I here,” Vakk answered, his jagged mouth looking up at the god that had hindered his process. He felt a rage bubbling within him, but decided it was not the best time to show such hatred, not yet. He let out a low rumble, unknown if it were anger or amusement towards the god of riddles. ”I am merely passing through Eurysthenes, I must see someone else and I would prefer not to be entangled in your pitiful excuse for a game,” he explained, not showing his emotion quite yet.

These Ones considered Vakk for a moment, then the Maze began to shift. The floor dropped a little. The corridors became slightly wider while twisting and hurling themselves around. By the end of this, Vakk would find himself face to face with Eurysthenes.

”A game?”

The corridor that revealed it to Vakk closed. Seconds later, Vakk would hear the unsettling clicking behind him, ”We are like cord. Spun around, wound together. Yet we are also patient.”
Again, the corridor closed. Before Vakk rose a large pillar with a knot on it. Each end of the rope that was involved in the knot vanished into a corner of the twelve-sided room that Vakk was now in.

”You cur! Get me out of this cage or I will feast upon your bones!” Vakk roared, slamming his body against the massive wall of the maze, to no avail. His words, while threats still carried his will of intimidation. ”If this is a war you desire, then I will make it a war of attrition!”

Vakk gave a laugh before a voice similar to Eurysthenes echoed through the Maze ”A collection of lies! That’s all I am, stolen thoughts and memories!” This was now a war on who would break first, Vakk’s will to go on or Eurysthenes control over its own body.

The Lord of Speech was not still, as he moved forward to inspect the knot before following on of the ropes. All the while, taunting the Puzzle God with its own voice, ”He asked and I answered. For a moment of safety, I risked damnation amongst the echoes.”

Somewhere in the Maze, This One chuckled. A good move with the voice.

Over in Vakk’s knot room, a new door opened, then vanished. Eurysthenes stepped out and walked towards the knot in the center of the room. Wavery in voice and slump-shouldered, it said, ”Go on then. E̶̺͠a̶͓̾t̵̍͜ ̸̞̎ḿ̸͚ÿ̷̫́ ̵͉̆b̶̻̚ō̵̬ṇ̸̆e̵̹͒s̶͇̾,”

Vakk had not even turned to face Eurysthenes, but his tendrils darted for it, aiming to skewer the god where it stood. However, it stopped only a mere hair length from it before Vakk spoke once more, this time in his own voice,
”Killing one who is needed,
A horrid move by those deceived,
Of false ambition and anger.
No. You are too meager.
Yet, you are needed.”

Vakk knew that he could not kill Eurysthenes for then he would be trapped within the Infinite Maze for an eternity.

”And yet a fake body is just that,
A pawn of a deluded rat.”

The lord speech raised his tendrils into one massive form before he slammed it down towards the suspected clone. Still looking in the same direction he had been facing.

The moment Vakk’s tendrils collided with Eurysthenes, they slowed to a trickle. The skin of This One began to pulse and warp. Small, discoloured lumps began to form. It grew a mouth. Grossly, it erupted. Tentacles formed, skin blackened, and it grew. A perfect copy of Vakk.

”Now don’t go losing myself in here,”

”You cannot fool me, welp.”

”I have walked the edge of the abyss. I have seen our future. And I have learned!”

Vakk maneuvered himself to the other side of the room, before inspecting the rope. Tendrils wrapped around each of them, spiraling towards the end before they could not go further away from Vakk’s form. With a great heave, Vakk pulled all the rope at once, watching the twine strain between the force of the trapped one and the walls of the maze. Something would have to give, and Vakk refused to allow it to be the rope. Nothing.

He snapped his jaws in annoyance before he went to look at the rope, following it to the wall. He found small holes beneath the ropes, merely gazing at them for a short while before he decided to force a tendril through one.

The walls gave a small jolt, and the rope slackened, allowing the walls to fall over, revealing more of the maze. The Other Vakk said ”Well done, me! I got something right for once. Even if it was by accident…”

The eyes bore in on Vakk, ravaging his soul. They blinked in unison, clicking the same way Eurysthenes did.

”One. Two? Four. Some of us have things to do, do you not?”

The walls convulsed, revealing a long, narrow passage with a vortex at the end. On a table behind Vakk there was a blade.

Some of Eurysthene’s looked at him, his voice coming from them, ”May I speak with you, please? … What’s your name? It’s very nice to meet you! … Ỳ͔ou̳͓̝̞͓̟ ͚͇̠͉͓̖ͅl̖̤̟͔̪͡i̺̞̟ḱ̮͉̼̪͓e͖̳͈̭ ̗̳͎́g̷̙̼͔̭̻͉ͅa̢̝̬͈̝̪͓m̪e̗͚s͎̖͍̣?̭͚̟̱̘̫͓ ͉͓̱͚̕S͙͎͓͜o̼͔͓̣̺̙ dơ͈ ̗͖̠͇̤͘Į̬͎͚̠͇.̲̠͔͚” However, if he looked away from them, they would look normal once more, was it a trick of the eye, or was he going mad?

Vakk approached the table and looked between the blade and the vortex before he wrapped a tendril around the hilt of the blade and picked it up. While he knew not what a shovel was, he was familiar with the likes of a sword, mainly being the other side of them, but he did know. He felt a smile creep across his lips as he spoke once more in his own voice,

”Think not of your own life,
Think not of another,
Instead, look toward the knife,
Come with a terrible pother,
And end your own strife.”

The wall across from Vakk melted. There, was standing Eurysthenes. From the center of its chest thrust a small, pure white shard of ice. An opaque fog hurtled from it, to the ground. It peeled across the floor, spiraling upwards in sickly laughs.

”My strife will be at the end of its tether soon enough. But, brother,” it spat, ”What is my strife?”

The wall un-melted and whisked away. The fog was thick as madness, pressing in on Vakk. Grabbing at his mind and gently tearing it. Across from him, the wall changed once more.

Another copy of Vakk, only this one had no mouth. His jaw pulled at the flesh around it, and no words came out.

The true Lord of Speech growled before he began to look around, snapping his jaws as he analyzed the new situation that he was in. He was no stranger to a fog for he had created it at the Feasting Forest, but this fog was stranger. ”Your strife is whatever I say it is. Your strife is your desire to trap people in your games. Your strife lies within your need to harm others with you puzzle!,” Vakk went in, his words being carried by that strength he had a tendency to infuse into them.

Focusing on the puzzle, Vakk raised his new blade and, with his might, tell upon the maddening crystal that dared to test him. He could just begin to feel it trying to slip into his mind the way that he would slip into other minds. It was subtle, but he refused to allow Eurysthenes any small victory.

”You truly are going mad, Vakk.” a voice said. He turned and standing in front of the false Vakk was the form of Atmav. There was no possible way for Eurysthenes would know of her, and so he knew that it was that crystal’s doing. He looked away, and back again, Atmav had disappeared. She was merely a trick of the mind.

Again, the eyes speak. ”Vakk. We will be direct so you can understand. Eurysthenes is simply too far away for words to take effect. It's seen your tricks before, and it won't let them happen again. But go on, be our guest, keep commanding. Eventually you will have to butcher yourself. Or are you too weak?”



This One felt Vakk’s voice through the soles of its feet. It was looking down at him, blinking it's million eyes to speak. It chuckled. This puzzle was one of the better ones. The look of shock on Vakk’s face when he found out would be priceless.

It wanted to feel bad about inflicting such torment upon its brethren, but the brethren in question wasn't exactly innocent of tormenting, himself. If anyone were to outsmart him, it would be Eurysthenes. Or K'nell.

With a sigh, it feels Vakk’s voice again. He was a terrible guest.

It exhales, and with the force of denial, it spoke through blinking once more.



”Vakk. I am denying you the privilege of speaking within my realm,”

Vakk looked at the clone of himself, he knew it was not him for there could only be one of his magnificence. But being denied speaking rights was something that he could not simply allow to go on. ”Very well, I shall not speak. They will.” The Lord of Speech then let out a maddening laugh in response before he looked at the eyes, with a sadistic grin on his face. ”I know you can hear me through these farces Eurysthenes! I know you can! Come here and do not be a coward! Face your destruction!” Vakk roared before he turned the blade and cut off one of his own tendrils. His divine ichor spilled onto the floor, not crimson blood but a blackened substance with a green tint. He gave a roar of pain before he turned upon the illusion of himself, wanting to butcher that as well.

The words were stifled before he even opened his mouth. The fog reached up instead, occupying the empty air.
And when the knife tore through flesh, everything shifted. Vakk found himself on the other side of the narrow corridor, looking back into the room with the knife and the clone.

”Well done, me. I was brave. Brave enough to… well…” The new clone held up the stump of its tentacle, nodding slowly.

The Vortex shimmered in the room. Aside from the corridor, it was all there was. A milky twist, suspended. Eating reality, and pulling at Vakk’s form like the fog pulled at his mind.

Vakk snapped his jaws.

How much longer would Eurysthenes keep him trapped in this damned maze? How much would he have to endure before Eurysthenes felt satisfied?

He entered the Vortex, his form swirling into it and depositing him into a different area. However, Vakk would see no puzzle or riddle here, for it was the edge of the Infinite Maze and along with it, his ticket to the design Atkin he sought. The Lord of Speech looked back, seeing merely a wall to separate him from the rest of the maze.

”Another trick? … No. He did not know where I desired to go.” He was skeptical of this. ”Mark my words, Eurysthenes, you will pay for the injustice you have done against me.”

The storm tore across Galbar’s ocean, whipping the sea into a frenzy. Dark clouds blotted out the light of the stars and the Lustrous Garden, with the only light left under the storm being that provided by arcs of scarlet lightning. The storm followed directly beneath Veradax, illuminated in full by the light of Heliopolis on the far side of Galbar. Supersonic winds whipped around the ferocious storm, enough to cause utter desolation wherever it went.

Which was why Ashalla wanted to stop it. The storm was terrifyingly fast, but Ashalla was faster so was able to catch up. The sea surface had been churned into a mist so thick that there was no well-defined surface. Colossal waves heaved out in the storm’s wake. Ashalla might have calmed the sea if she could have afforded to stop, but the storm was moving so quickly that she had to keep moving. Ashalla swam under the storm, and in the storm’s epicenter she looked up and saw Veradax framed by the twisting black clouds. This storm was being pulled by the Sphere. Any efforts to deal with the storm would need to break or at least weaken that connection.

Ashalla expanded to fill the ocean beneath the storm, then tried to oppose the storm’s torque and deprive it of moisture. Yet the storm flayed the water of her form, and Ashalla felt pain for only the second time in her existence, the first time being on entry to Galbar’s atmosphere. Being stretched out dulled the sensation, but as she was gripping the storm with her whole being it attacked her whole being, so there was no ignoring the agonizing assault on her form. Eventually she relented and withdrew from the storm, which had barely been slowed.

As Ashalla’s attack on the storm ceased Azura’s began. She came roaring out of the Blue in the path of the storm accompanied by a a great torrent of wind that she wrapped around herself in a spiraling drill. The goddess struck the destructive gateway like a cannon shell, punching deep inside it before expelling a vast explosion of air in an attempt to dissipate the phenomenon. The dark storm bulged, its extraneous clouds pushed further from the center as a brief opening of clear sky was formed where Azura had punched through and then detonated. Yet Veradax’s shadow could not be so easily erased and the storm soon closed in on Azura with a vengeance, the clouds being pulled back under the baleful moon. Azura, now flapping her wings as hard as she could simply to stay inside her cleared area, could only watch as her entryway was sealed off and the dark walls closed in.

”No. NO! Stay back. I demand that you stay back!” she screamed at Orvus’s gateway only for it to respond with crimson lightning that lashed out from every side, striking the Goddess of the wind out of the sky. Azura plummeted, her decent uncontrollable, as the storm became whole once more above her.

As she fell, the ocean rose towards her. A great watery maw opened up around Azura, swallowed her then dragged her deep beneath the surface. The water was calmer in the grip of the ocean. A bubble of air opened up around Azura, and Ashalla’s face sculpted itself onto the inside of that bubble.

”Feathery one, it is good to see you! We do not have time to chat. We need to stop the storm,” Ashalla said, her voice echoing in the bubble.

Of all the terrible ways to discover that you are claustrophobic, Azura’s last 10 seconds of existence had to rank pretty highly on that list and she freaked the hell out as a result. As Azura was dragged down into the abyss she wildly flapped her badly burnt wings in a vain attempt to reach the freedom of the sky. When all at once they found a grip on air rather than water as Ashalla’s air bubble opened up the wind goddess was somewhat relieved, even more so when the water formed the friendly face of the sea goddess. Still, being trapped in an air pocket deep below the surface of the ocean was not an enjoyable experience no matter how pleasant the company nor how closely aligned their goals where with yours

”Yes. Storm bad. Now please let me out of here!” she agreed with inelegant urgency as she attempted to work out how she could escape if Ashalla turned out to be uncooperative.

Despite Ashalla’s poor empathy skills, even she could notice Azura’s distress. The bubble rose up through the water and breached the surface behind the storm. ”Thank you” Azura gasped as she surfaced.

Ashalla spoke, the goddesses’ voice heard clearly despite the ferocious noise of the storm. ”The storm appears to be linked to the moon. If we can break the connection between the moon and the storm, we might be able to stop it. I noticed the storm weaken slightly when you brought the daytime sky with you.”

Azura floated on her back on the stormy seas as she tried to calm her breathing as her large body was being bobbed up and down by the angry waves that had been left in the wake of the storm. It took about a minute for her to compose herself, during which her lightning wrecked body slowly pulled itself back together, burnt feathers regrowing and regaining their former luster. This gave her plenty of time to think about the problem they were facing. Options like ‘Destroy the moon’ and ‘second sun mk2’ where quickly discarded. By the time she was ready to speak she had decided on two options.

”Ok... Ok. So the storm follows the moon and is also fueled by the moon right? So then maybe we put something between the moon and the storm? Like a… smaller moon or perhaps a large flying creature that shadows the moon and absorbs or reflects its power.” Azura’s shouted loudly in an effort to be heard over the rumbling of the receding storm. ”Or we work together to trap and bind the storm to one place that would bear the brunt of its fury each and every time the moon comes overhead. Either way, bind or chase, I could give the martyr of the moon’s wrath my aura to try and soften its burden.”

Ashalla rumbled thoughtfully, then said, ”Yes, that could do it. You block the moon, then I’ll move the storm away and bind it in place. I think I know a good place to bind it, too.”

Azura floated idaly for a few moments before responding. ”Oh. Right. both.” before rolling over onto her front. ”On it”

With that she began to flap her wings rapidly, sending water splashing in all directions until she pushed herself skyward, at which point the wind caught her once more and her flight became far more graceful as she chased after the storm. As she flew she caught glimpse of a chunk of Veradax sunken deep below the waves and came up with an idea.

”Sunken slab of hostile stone.
For your violence you must atone.
Take wing and rise up into the air!
The mortals of this world you shall spare
from this vile destructive typhoon.
To do so you shall block out the moon!”

Her verse spiralled down into the ocean and wrapped itself around the fragment of Veradax which slowly began to change itself to match her song. A few moments later a titanic whale, one the size of an island, breached the surface. It’s underside was pale as moonrock while it’s almost perfectly flat top was dark as Orvium. The whale did not crash back down into the waves however, but instead continued to ascend skywards on colossal feathered fins. Azura landed atop the great beast’s head and sang:

”Faster faster you must fly!
To take your rightful place in the sky
Hunt down the moon and steal its power
So that we may dock the storm in its harbour”

When she finished the wind picked up to aid the whale, obeying its will to surge its speed ever faster and send it soaring ever higher. Up and up the pair soared, past the clouds and into Galbar’s upper atmosphere. The wind followed them bringing air up from below and down from the Blue to push them forwards through the thin air as Azura used the same ability she used to throw herself into space to surge their speed even faster. The whale added its wingbeats and tail stokes to this and soon they were racing forwards to catch up with the storm. As they flew she sang a final verse.

”Titan you will shine so bright
And bring day to darkest night
Like the home of dear virtue
turn blackest of night bright blue”

It flowed into the great whale’s feathers, making them shine as radiant as her own and in doing so brought the sight of the Blue to the skies above the storm, making the moon more distant as its dim light now had to pass though her sphere to reach them. As the Blue surrounded the whale the depths of its dark metallic skin where suffused with a rich cerulean, turning the desolate metal from a source of destruction to a heat sink for it. The great whale, now complete, soared above the clouds of the angry storm, eclipsing the distant moon and cutting line of sight between it and the storm it fueled. Instead the moonstone made flesh absorbed the power of its progenitor, consuming the energy meant for the storm even as the desolate energies wracked its body. Azura felt guilt at having brought life into the world only for it to suffer even as she urged the beast to endure. Perched atop it she too writhed beneath that terrible moon, finding penance in the shared agony.

With the night sky replaced by the Blue and Veradax hidden, the great storm’s furious pace began to slow, its supersonic winds rapidly dissipating energy and momentum. The ocean beneath the storm lurched at Ashalla’s pull, creating powerful currents beneath the storm. The storm started to drift off its original course, slowly at first but accelerating as it deviated from Veradax’s path.

As the storm’s trajectory was changed, the ocean currents picked up speed. Far beneath Galbar the Abyss churned to drive these vast currents. Hot water from the Saluran Mendidih met cold water pulled down from the arctic by Swahhiteh-Tendlepog, the meeting of hot and cold further fuelling the currents being orchestrated by Ashalla. Soon the storm had been pulled clear of Veradax’s path, and while its winds still raged, crimson lightning still crackled and dark clouds loomed, its strength waned slightly as it left Veradax behind.

The currents would keep carrying the storm for three days until it would reach a point near the equator south of Swahhiteh, about 5000 kilometres from the storm’s current location. There Ashalla had established a mighty whirlpool bounded by a ring of islands which would keep the storm bound to that location, and this whirlpool was fed by a vast gyre, all backed by her divine will. The mixing hot and cold waters which fueled the gyre would enhance the natural aspects of the storm, and lesser storms would be birthed from this great maelstrom, but no longer would a supersonic storm of desolation lay waste to vast swathes of Galbar.

Ashalla had prepared these things over the course of several hours. The eclipse whale would need to follow the storm until it reached its destination to ensure that Veradax did not regain a hold on the storm, but otherwise no more supervision was necessary. Out of the direct gaze of Veradax, the destructive energies flowing through the eclipse whale were much weaker.

”Feathery one, your plan is working,” Ashalla called up from the ocean. ”In just three days the storm will be bound to a single location, and your flying giant rock fish should be able to protect it until then.”

A slightly frazzled looking Azura landed swooped down to fly just above the ocean, leaving the great whale floating in the sunless blue sky above the storm. She was feeling rather chipper about the fact that they had successfully corralled the storm even if the prospect of having to defend the area was a daunting one.

”That’s wonderful news” she called back to the ocean, ”but when you say protect, do you fear that the storm’s creator will return to free it? Do we even know who the stormcrafter is?”

”Until the storm reaches the maelstrom, the moon might be able to regain a hold of it as it passes overhead. The flying fish needs to stay around for at least that long,” Ashalla said. Her form drew up near where Azura hovered so that they could see each other. ”As for the stormcrafter, that would be Orvus. There is a possibility he might return and free the storm, but I doubt your flying fish could do much to stop him if he tried.”

”No. I suppose they would not be able to stand against a god. Perhaps we could make some way for my creation or yours to warn us that Orvus approaches? Sadly he is not the only one who causes crisis and danger.” Azura sighed deeply, the joy of success having been quickly been worn away by the knowledge that numerous Gods that still needed to be confronted or opposed. ”Death, darkness, desolation. Three of our kind act only to bring destruction and I fear that there are more of their like.”

Ashalla rumbled thoughtfully. ”The storm is more than just a storm. It is also a passageway to the moon. It is very likely that Orvus will travel through it. What we don’t know is whether he will expend the effort to destroy the binding. I have not found anyone else likely to interfere with the binding. Although… you seem to be concerned about other things.”

”Yes. I suppose I am. I’ve spoken with Aelius and Asceal who made the Suns and they told me of some troubling events. Melantha attempted to destroy the first sun soon after it was made, and someone else succeeded in destroying the second the monet it was lit. They also told me of Katharsos and how he is burning all the souls that came with us from the void to ash. I have been to his realm. I have seen the slaughter with my own eyes” Azura shuddered at the memory, one still fresh in her mind. ”We don’t know why he is doing it but those souls that still remain must be saved. Somehow.” The degradation of Azura’s mood completed its tumble from the lofty heights of success and landed the parrot in a pit of dejection.

Ashalla rumbled again. She had nothing to add regarding the suns, but on the souls she did have more information. ”I know why he is making the soul ash. It is from that ash that new souls for new life are made,” she said.

Azura blinked in surprise, having not expected to run into a source of information while being sidetracked by the storm. ”Where did you learn this?” she asked excitedly, her mood poking its head out of the sadness pit, wanting to learn everything she could.

”I watched the soul-ash in action and I spoke with Katharsos. About a third of the way around the world eastwards from here, a great ethereal vortex collects the souls of the dead and deposits large quantities of soul-ash.” As Ashalla described the scene, her form morphed to also depict the scene, picking up matter floating in the ocean to add to the diorama. ”The soul-ash made everything in that part of the ocean much more virile, and great blooms of plankton filled the sea. But the soul-ash also bore impurities which bore a bitter taste, so I called Katharsos down to deal with the issue. We created some oysters to purify the soul-ash in the area, and I built a vast reef in the area. Would you like to see it?”

The ramifications of Ashalla working with Katharsos could wait till later, this was big. ”Yes! More than anything!” Azura responded with aggressive interest before calling herself a little to respond in a more dignified fashion. ”I mean. yes. I’d be very interested in seeing this place for myself. Do you mind if I pop over to the east and take a look. Right now. If you need help I’ll come back as fast as I can.”

Ashalla was bubbling with excitement and pride. Here was someone who was excited about her creations. ”Better, I’ll go and show you.” Ashalla collapsed back into the ocean and pulsed away beneath the surface.

”Right now? Ok then!” Azura ascended higher into the sky and then raced to follow after the water goddess, wings hammering and wind churning to keep pace with her speedy guide.

A few hours of travel brought them past the Kick before the shallow water of the Great Soul Reef came into view. It was shaped like a vast spiral, although it was too big to be seen all at once. Just beneath the surface of the ocean was a dazzling array of colours. Coral, algae, fish and more painted the sea floor with dancing patterns. Ubiquitous in the reef was a particular species of oyster.

Ashalla manifested a head above the water and two waves swept out from her like outstretched arms. ”Do you like it?” she asked Azura.

Azura fluttered too and fro, taking it all in. The place was one of contrast Azura felt. Below was vibrant ecosystem full of colorful marvels that she longed to explore. ”Your reef is gorgeous,” she told Ashalla truthfully.

Above however was the Vortex of Souls, a vile maw that must have devoured the souls from the void in the same way it now consumed the spirits of the creatures the gods had made. Down from the Vortex rained soul ash which that she could see all to clearly now that she was looking for it. She watched it suffuse itself into the eggs of fish and blossomed into a simple soul and in doing so she gained something of an understanding of why Katharsos was doing what he was doing. She also saw that some oysters were seemingly eating the ash and decided to investigate. Finding one close to the surface she carefully raised the stone it was on with her mind to inspect the mollusk and in doing so discovered the soul pearl within.

”What is this?” she asked the ocean goddess

”Those are soul oysters. They cleanse the soul-ash,” Ashalla explained. ”Within are the impurities in the soul-ash condensed into a solid and inert form.”

Fascinated, Azura plucked the tiny pearl from the oyster and brought it before her, turning the gemstone too and fro to examine it. It was strange and beautiful. Soulstuff made solid. Free of a body yet also free from the pull of the Vortex.

It gave her an idea.

---

---

Having escaped from the two meddling goddesses, the Phoenix continued to soar across the vast ocean desert towards its destination. All the while, he could see and feel many of the constant changes being attributed from the other god and goddesses around - from raising islands and continents to being engulfed in massive storms. Yet no matter the weather and no matter the obstacle, the giant fire bird continued with upmost haste - not stopping for anything. He would not rest, or eat, or even sleep, before he could fulfill its master's desire - let alone avoid being detected by the other gods in of themselves.

It would take the Phoenix an entire day to nonstop flight across the desert of blue before it finally reach the continent from the northwest. The flying beast would see a lush forest hugging the coast - one similar to the green island he so brutally maimed, but hundreds of times larger. The starved Phoenix was already beginning to feel his stomach rumble at what food ought to be scampering within the forest's floor, but even then it forced itself to push ever more. It wouldn't want to risk running into other divine entities, especially those way stronger than it.

But as it flew over the jungles, it would also bring upon a rain of fire down upon the inhabitants of the rich greenery - with mounds of molten rock and magna burning through the canopy like butter. And it would follow the massive monster as it formed a path of utter destruction. And when it flew closer to the ground, its hurricane force winds would rip off anything below - uprooting trees, displacing soil, and sending wildlife flying in one singular direction. Anyone curious as to where the beast went could just simply follow the blazing trail - but at the speed of which the Phoenix flew, it would be difficult to catch up to it.

After flying over the green forest and upon passing over a wide river, the Phoenix finally found itself leaving the jungle behind as it sprawled into a vast rocky grassland. Nothing much of worth could be found here, in fact, it was quite barren and flat. The only thing worth noting was a giant mountain that dwarfed the surrounding land, spewing boiling-hot water from the north side of its peak.

But after more flying to the southeast, it finally reached towards a major peninsula, as a major mountain range could also be seen hugging alongside the coast. However, as it inspected them for a suitable place, it found itself hovering across a particular spot, one that featured the tallest mountain in the nearby area. At last, the Phoenix finally found a suitable spot to execute its Master's order.

That's when it got to work.

The Phoenix flew to the mountain's peak before unleashing its heat breath on top of it. The molten breath melted through the icy peak as it descended down it like a funnel. The overwhelming heat began to heat the very surface of the mountain, quickly causing all the ice to melt away and burn the foliage that grew from its rocks. The magma below then began to congregate within a spot deep underground, creating a massive reservoir of molten essence to the point of bursting. With pressure rising from all sides, the magma found themselves having nowhere else to go but up. The surrounding land would begin to feel an intense tremble as lava began raising back up the volcano, with several sections of the mound's base already spewing lava in various directions. And when it finally became too much, the entire peak collapsed in on itself to form a massive crater...

And from upon the blackened caked rock, the volcano erupted into an utter inferno as lava and thick ash rose into the pure skies above. The lava meanwhile would run the face of the dark rock before reaching the ground, in which massive pools of lava would slowly create. Every piece of foliage would either be melted within contact by the lava or otherwise burnt by the molten embers radiating from the volcano itself. The massive eruption could be seen for miles as the Phoenix finally created the first volcano outside of Muspellheim.

With its mission complete, the winged fire beast immediately contacted his master with haste.

"Master," the Phoenix hissed with glee, "The volcano you requested has finally been erected on the south-eastern continent."

Upon hearing this, Sartr laughed devilishly at the good news.

"EXCELLENT!" the fire god boomed spectacularly, "AND I SUPPOSE OTHER THAN THE ENCOUNTER OF THOSE TWO GODDESSES DID EVERYTHING GO TO PLAN?"

"Yes," the fire bird hissed, "They have."

"GOOD. I SHALL NAME THIS NEW VOLCANO... MT ELDAHVERR! GUARD IT FOR THE NEXT TWO DAYS BEFORE RETURNING TO ME - FOR THE NEXT PHASE OF MY PLAN SHALL SOON BEGIN. IF ANYTHING COMES UP, LET ME KNOW IMMEDIATELY. UNDERSTOOD?"

"Understood." the Phoenix replied before placing his attention back on their newfound creation.

The reign of fire was coming... slowly but surely. And this volcano would be the start of more to come.

---

The afternoon sun beamed down on the scene, blanketing Kalmar in a sheet of warmth. The God laid happily by a hunting dog and a discarded quiver of arrows, an unstrung bow leaning against the oak tree that’s roots served as his pillow. In the distance he could hear the gentle trickle of a brooke cutting through the endless grasslands, and if his eyes weren’t closed in contentment, he would be witnessing mighty herds of elk running across an infinite stretch of green that eventually met a cloudless blue sky.

It was perfection. Kalmar himself had found satisfaction, his stomach was full and warm with the most recent hunt, as well as the most recent brew. His skin was kissed by the sun, his nose was fancied by the aroma on the winds, and his ears were delighted with the summer buzzings of beetles, and the quaint popping of cloudlings. He cracked an eye open, Cloudlings?

Suddenly Kalmar felt a rush as his true eyes opened, and there he was, right where he had fallen asleep. A tiny cloudling rested on his nose, and in the skies he saw Arryn chasing a blurry figure, who just so happened to be screaming, “AAAAAAAAAH!”

Kalmar growled in annoyance as he rose to his feet, brushing off the creature that had landed on his nose. There was no time to contemplate what he had just experienced, as there was a disturbance in the area. With a frown, he took flight and sped toward it. “Who are you!?” He shouted out to the blurry figure as he came near.

The figured whizzed around Kalmar at a blinding speed before finally stopping all at once right in front of him. The figure turned out to be an alabaster colored woman with a black spiral imprinted on her forehead. She studied Kalmar for a brief second before letting out a big cheshire smile, “I’m Hermes!”

The tiny cloudling from before floated up to the woman and disappeared inside her knotted hair, “and that’s Poppler.”

Kalmar crossed his arms. ”Arryn! To me!” The bird responded immediately, flying close and perching himself on Kalmar’s shoulder. He studied Hermes with some degree of wariness. She had not been present at the Architect’s hall. ”Who created you?” he asked her.

“God made me,” Hermes reached forward with one of her arms, and extended a friendly finger, pointing towards Kalmar’s cheek, “poke?”

”Which god?” Kalmar asked, before he saw the approaching finger and moved back slightly, just out of her reach. ”What are you doing?” he demanded.

“Saying hi,” Hermes answered, “Li’Kal…” she muttered the rest of the name, “taught me.”

Li’Kalla… the rain goddess? And this… ‘poke’ was a way of saying hello? How strange… he had only just been taught that the handshake was the gesture to say hello? That meant there were multiple ways. Why must communication be so needlessly complicated? ”I see,” he said. Then, completely stonefaced, he moved forward and lightly poked Hermes on the cheek.

Hermes smirked and poked Kalmar on his cheek before letting her hand fall back to her sides, “The deed is done.”

”So what brings you here?” Kalmar questioned. He nudged Arryn off his shoulder, and the bird began to fly in circles around the two.

Hermes slowly began to float back down to the ground, “well, I’m out here exploring and experiencing, what are you doing out here?” Her sandals touched the ground below.

Kalmar landed on the ground with her as Arryn circled overhead. ”I built this land,” he explained, gesturing at their surroundings. Then he frowned. ”You did not answer my question. Which god created you?”

Hermes kicked the dirt idly, “K’nell-- I like it. It’s very pretty, but where’s all the grass?”

So her master was K’nell, Kalmar realized. K’nell, the god of dreams… and he had just experienced a dream. He wondered if her appearance here was connected.

Kalmar shrugged. ”I have not created any yet. Some birds planted trees on the southern tip, and Phystene’s aura has caused some grass and flowers to grow, but right now the continent remains mostly barren.”

“Oh,” Hermes kicked the ground, staring at her sandals, “well..” She looked up at Kalmar, “wanna race?”

Kalmar’s eyebrows raised. A race? This was the first proper challenge had received since he arrived here. And from a mortal, no less! He could not bring himself to refuse. ”To where?” he asked her.

Hermes looked around the barren landscape and then shrugged, “the other side?”

”And back,” Kalmar said. He aimed his bow skyward and loosed an arrow. ”We start when the arrow hits the ground.” Then the arrow struck the ground , and Kalmar began to run.

With little warning or fanfare, Hermes suddenly turned into a blur. The wind cracked and a sonic boom erupted around where she stood as she rocketed forward. In mere moments she quickly caught up to Kalmar and zipped past, leaving nothing but dirt, dust and a small scar on the ground in her wake. Kalmar’s falcon, Arryn, followed in pursuit of them both.

Kalmar’s eyebrows raised once more, and he began to redouble his efforts. He had underestimated her. Yet even now as he employed his full speed, she was still somewhat faster than him. Had she been specifically created with speed in mind? But although he appeared to be losing, he did not give in, and continued onward. Perhaps she would tire.

Looking forward, Kalmar noticed something rather odd, instead of slowing down, she seemed to slowly get faster, her entire body a blur of white against the land that now whizzed passed the two. He had spent so much interest in this peculiar lady, that time flew right by and before he knew it, he was spinning on his heel, having reached the coast.

Hermes had stopped at the coast, just as quickly as she had ran, only to turn on her heel, and erupt into her whirlwind sprint, sound clapping behind her. It was at that exact moment that Kalmar’s sharp eyes noticed that after turning, her legs barely moved, and rather it was her sandals that seemed to propel her forward, but before he could study them further she was a blur once again.

So it was the sandals, then? Kalmar would have to ask about that when they stopped, but obviously now was not the time. He continued the race, the land continuing to zip by, until finally the lake once again came within sight. As Kalmar reached the finish, the dust was clearing and there stood a smiling Hermes, “I liked it!”

Kalmar nodded. To lose to a mortal, when he himself was a god… he couldn’t help but feel as though his pride was wounded, but that was no reason not to accept defeat gracefully. ”And how fast can you run without this sandals?” he asked her.

“I don’t know, I never take them off,” Hermes cheerfully replied, “God gave them to me.”

”Why do you call him God?” Kalmar questioned. ”That almost makes it sound like you believe he is the only god.”

Hermes shrugged, “I dunno -- because he loves me, he loves all his creations, and I love him for lovin’ me.”

“What do you call the person who made you?” Hermes pondered, reaching in her hair in search of Poppler.

Kalmar shrugged. ”The people who made me were my mother and my father. The one who brought me here was the Architect. Though I suppose what you call your own creator is up to either you or him.”

Hermes plopped onto the ground and looked up at Kalmar, squinting past the glare of Heliopolis, “I like that idea.”

She paused, “but-- but could you tell me about mother and father and the Architect?”

Kalmar blinked in surprise, and thought carefully about how he should choose his next words. ”With most species, two creatures, male and female, come together and create another life, which carries on their traits. The male is the father, the female is the mother. They then protect this new creature and teach it to provide for itself, so it can survive when they are gone.” He said, hoping that was sufficient to answer the first part of her question.

”The Architect is different. I know little about him, other than that he created the very basics of this world. He brought us here - me, your master, Li’Kalla, Phystene, and all the other gods, so that we could build the rest for him. He is the source of most of our power, and the strongest being in this world.”

Hermes pondered all the new information closely, “so your mother and father, your makers, are in a different place because the architect moved you? We can go see them, I can run really fast -- OH! Do you see them when you sleep?”

”No. They died long before I came here, and I barely remember what they look like.” Kalmar said without emotion.

The mortal squirmed in place for a while, “what’s… died?”

Kalmar’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. Had her creator truly made her so ignorant about the world, and the natural cycle of life? Had K’nell hoped to spare her the moment of realization, or did he simply not care? One scenario was foolish, while the other was careless, and Kalmar was not sure which was worse.

”’Died’ means they have stopped living,” he told her. ”All living things eventually die. You, me, your creator, the Architect… there will come a day when we all die. But we must resist this fact, and continue living. If we all lay down and accept our fates, there will be no life, only nothing - stagnation.” He spoke the last word with distaste.

“Oh! I know that,” Hermes lit up, “it’s my purpose to live, to experience. I’m very much alive and experiencing, and I like it.”

She pursed her lips and looked off to the side and then back at Kalmar, “do you want to do something?”

Kalmar shrugged. ”Do you know how to hunt?”

“I don’t even know what that is,” Hermes grinned, “let’s do it!”

”Zzt!”

”Hunting is when you track and kill another animal for food. For most creatures, it is a necessary part of survival.” Kalmar told her, before looking around. There was very little to hunt, in truth. There were some birds to the south, and some fish in the lake. There might be creatures in the other lands, and he knew there were animals back on his Hunting Grounds, but those would all take time to travel to. The lake was closest. ”We will hunt fish.”

And with that he took flight, gesturing for her to follow. He flew over to the island in the middle of his lake, landed, and he stared out at the clear water, thinking. Then, he focused, and conjured forth an artifact.

It was a spear. A strong but light wooden shaft, with a thin yet sharp tip of white bone. Its special quality was that it would not be slowed or obstructed by liquid, and would not create a splash. In short; it faced absolutely no resistance from water.

”If we are to hunt fish, it seems to me that this will be the best method. The alternative is to use our hands,” he explained as he stepped toward the edge of the island. Unlike the shores of the lake, there were no shallows surrounding the island, so he did not even need to step into the water. He stared down at the clear water, staring intently at one of the fish. When it came close enough, he thrust the spear downward, impaling it, and pulled it out. Due to the spear’s enchantment, there was virtually no disturbance.

Kalmar looked upon the fish at the end of his spear, still wriggling for life. It was maybe six or seven inches in length. ”When you kill an animal, it must be eaten or used in some way,” he told her, as he pulled the fish off the spear. He tossed it into the air, and Arryn swooped down to grab it, catching it before it even hit the ground. Arryn then landed with the fish, and began to rapidly peck away at it. ”Otherwise, the animal dies for nothing.”

Kalmar handed Hermes the spear. ”Try to repeat what I just did.”

Hermes took the spear, her brow furrowed. She looked at the water as Poppler began to spin around her. She looked back at Kalmar, then the spear, then the water, then Kalmar, then Poppler, then back at the water. A fish swam by her and she plunged the spear into the water, her eyes closing at the last second. Slowly she pulled the spear back out, her eyes closed but being able to feel something wriggling on the far end of the tool. Hermes was breathing heavily.

“I did it.” She announced, her eyes still closed as she held out the spear to Kalmar.

”Well done,” Kalmar said as he took the spear and examined the fish at the end of it. It was roughly the same size as the one he had caught. He pulled the fish off and then handed it back to her, along with the spear. You can keep the spear,” he told her. ”Consider it a reward for besting me in the race. And remember: do not let the fish go to waste.”

Arryn, who had rapidly devoured the first fish and yet somehow still seemed to have room for more, looked up at the second fish hungrily.

Hermes opened her eyes and smiled wide, “I won't!” She paused and then suddenly poked Kalmar's cheek with her free hand, “thank you.”

Kalmar nodded once again. ”It is my duty to teach mortals to hunt, and to ensure they will have the means to do so. You may be on your way… although…” he paused. ”I leave you with a warning. Some gods are not so constructive. There are some who may seek only to destroy. If you meet a god named Orvus, it would be best to avoid him.”

Hermes listened carefully, nodding along, “I will, I'll be careful.”

She held up the spear, “and I'll never waste a fish.”

---

---

Project SHEOL> 25% complete_ARCHON 001 instance stablized.
PRIMARY OBJECTIVE> 1% complete_Sheol infrastructure.
>behind allotted schedule
Run Sub-Program THE HANDLER>
>_establishing link_
>_link established_ location: Architect’s Palace
>_uploading UMMUM software_> complete
Constructing Sub-Program THE HANDLER> 5% 15% 39% 66%-
>corruption detected <r̶̢̙͒̽̉̋ớ̶̡͚̥̙̾̅̚t̵̜͔̄̒̒͜ ̴̝̻̿̀e̷͍͇̥̠̋̋q̶̡̻̥͊̏̆̽͝ù̵͙͖̳̕à̷̢̦̌ͅt̵͕͍̦̻̃̎i̴̛̛̹̖͕̱͗̆̕ö̶̡̱́ǹ̸͍̄͠>-86% 97%> complete
Command> Sub-Program 001: THE HANDLER - Execute Objective J01 of Project JOMM.
Project SHEOL> 43% complete_ARCHON 002 instance under construction.

---

The Architect’s Palace was abuzz with activity as purple energy racked the forgotten flesh of the bastard god. Circuit like markings ran throughout the top half of the appendage, cutting off at the lower-end with divine precision. Tissue writhed as the first vestiges of consciousness triggered the reaction further. Bones dematerialized and then rematerialized into a bipedal frame while muscle tissue deformed and reformed to compliment the thin sapien-like apparatus. Divine ichor multiplied as the vascular network, sensory systems, central processing unit and thin integumentary structures were synthesized from left over tissue. Consciousness grew, further aggravating the process, activating the respiratory system, causing a high pitch wail to ensue as the final organic mechanisms where synthesized and finally operational.

For a little while longer the wail went on unabated, seeming to shak the very foundation of the palace itself before suddenly decending a number of octaves, then acesending some, then finally stabilizing and ceasing. Peace returned to the palace as the newly-formed anomaly hunched over in fettle position, soaked in divine fluids.

>THE OUTERMOST EXTREMITY_codename.THE HANDLER

Execute: Objective J01

Bones cracked and popped as the program shakily rose to its feet. It was a skinny thing, so much so that it’s emaciated figure almost seemed to lack an epidermis were it not for the thin layer of milky-white flesh just barely holding its form in place. Despite this the entity stood with a semblance of regality, regarding its surroundings placidly.

In an instant, new images flooded its ocular systems. A blue planet, crystalline vehicles, a tiny divine, a godly conference, their ideals, their motivations, the fear entity; all memories of THE ABHORRENT transfered to the program in the span of a few seconds. And the program learned. All of it was of value, of value to its objective, and the Primary Objective.

The program glanced at once blue plant, now tinged brown and green as landmasses marred is once perfect surface.

”ah.” it hummed.

>locate desirable site for Project JOMM_Objective J01.

”noted.”

And with that it lept off into the sky.

Heavy rain pounded the trench. Large droplets tattered off Chopstick Eye’s wide brimmed helmet, but no matter how hard she tried to hear the rain, she never could. The rapid fire tak tak tak tak of machine gun fire fought against the ringing after-wave of explosions for dominance in her ears. A mixture of mud and sweat fogged any vision she could have.

PTNK!

A stray bullet slammed into the man to her right, his head jerking back as a spray of crimson erupted behind him. Running on planks raised out of the muddy ground another soldier in red stained beige ran to the machine gun nest of the dead man. Before he could make it, a grenade bounced off the back of the trench and by his feet. Quickly the man scooped it up and as he tossed it outwards it exploded.

Chopstick was thrown backwards from the blast, and between stinging blurs she saw the man writhing on the ground, dirt soaking in his exposed elbow, his severed arm nowhere to be seen. Another soldier ran up to the man, pressing a hand deep into the dark ooze that was pouring from the wound, he turned to look at Chopstick.

“Daniel! Man that fucking gun!”

Why do you always, thought the creature in the long coat, think you know my name? But out loud she said, ”Okeydokey, sarge boy.”

It was a brief splash and a slog before she made it to the nest of sandbags and wire, set her hands on the handles of the gatling gun. From here, she had a clear view of no man’s land. The rain fell in a heavy blanket, but it couldn’t make leave her much blinder than she already was, or more far-seeing.

tak tak tak tak tak tak tak tak

It was a remarkably effective, and a remarkably boring, tool. Men were leaping from holes in the dirt, running between the wire and the craters in the hope that they could make it to her side before being spotted. They were always men, never women, and they were never right. Chopstick pressed her buttons and the machine spoke and they fell. Every now and then one of their own machines would speak in a different tone, and she’d hear something miss her head with a zip oh wait no that last one hit.

Chopstick fell back into the mud with a big hole in her face, across her cheek and jaw, an ugly blasted tunnel that showed off her broken teeth and jaw and leaked a red slime that might have been blood. Oh, she thought. Oh that’s going to start hurting soon.

It did.

“Fucking hell,” A voice called out. A soldier slided next to Chopstick, a crust of blood and dirt on the side of his face, staining a white band across his helmet. The man stared at Chopstick, shoving gauze onto her gaping wound, and pouring water around the edge, forming brown rivulets down her cheek. She shrieked at him, an injured, cornered fiend with teeth sprouting in a dense forest from the opening in her face.

As the man fought to work on her, she noticed a figure rise above the lip of the trench. The enemy soldier was wearing a dark uniform with N.R.R. emblazoned on his sleeve, and in his hands he aimed a trench sweeper at the medic.

Chopstick met his gaze and stopped, then watched, as, in one small movement, he blew a hole through the soldier on top of her, and a larger, messier one, in her belly.

She shrieked, though she couldn’t hear it any more, and leapt at him, throwing the dying medic off of her one-handed without noticing him. The dark soldier had no time to stagger or pump his shotgun; she was on top of him, screaming, smashing his face with her fists, strangling him with her hands, shaking him back and forth like a ragdoll.

On the ground, they were too close together for anyone to take a clear shot. As soon as she stood up over the corpse, more bullets entered her, leaving holes in her coat and her flesh, and she dropped, leaking, dribbling red.

But there was something very interesting attached to the end of the killer’s gun: a long, thin knife with a single edge.

Chopstick pulled her helmet away from her head and let her hair cover her, let her arms scuttle away, dragging her wounded body like a ghastly cockroach in the direction from which her attackers had come, leaving a trail of mud. More bullets came, but she was a fast target now, fast and low. Her hair cracked like a whip as she reached the first man, opening him with the knife. The hair collected another bayonet, and Chopstick leapt onto the second man. Then the third.

There was a brief whistle that sounded over the cracking of bullets. Suddenly Chopstick’s entire world lit up in a ball of flame. A great explosion landed behind her, sending her barreling forward alongside disembodied limbs and clumps of mud. The pain was something new as it ate up the flesh on her back.

As she dazed on the ground, she noticed a new shape in her peripheral, a mighty metal monster rolling around on treads, spouting massive explosions from a barrel, Rozdeleny painted across the cannon. With a silent whirr the turret repositioned itself again, and slowly the cannon came to bear down on Chopstick, but before it could fire a familiar hand grabbed what was left of the collar on her coat and began to drag her from the scene. It was the Sarge.

The man was bleeding heavily from his forehead and the beige in his uniform was blotted out by stains. He turned on his feet, pulling Chopsticks behind a bend in the trench. Slowly and gradually the sounds of the battle began to disappear behind them. A tension she didn’t know she was holding fell over her, and slowly the world went black.

Her eyes snapped open, she was in bed. There was no evidence of ever being wounded on her body, and for some reason she had a feeling years had passed since that day. She even recognized the room as her own, from the war memorabilia down to the curtains.

There was a urgent knock on her door.

Chopstick mmrmphed, cautiously pressed a finger to the side of her head where her cheek had been missing, then pulled herself upright and said, “Fuck off..?”

She reached into the bedside table and pulled out a packet of paper-rolls with black leaves in them, selected one and lit it with a match. “Alright, you can come in now,” she clarified, shaking out the match and dragging on the cigarette.

“Sarge?” A man walked in, the left sleeve of his suit was stapled to his shoulder, his arm missing from the elbow down, “Theresa let me in, but-”

But Theresa can fuck off too, thought Chopstick Eyes. Lemme sleep.

“It's Daniel, he hasn't been answering any calls, haven't seen him around. I want to go check on him, but he- he will listen to you,” the man shoved his hand in his pocket, “I have the Studebaker out back.”

Chopstick considered. She made sure to take the longest, slowest pull on her cancerstick before answering. “Who’s Daniel?”

The man looked at Chopstick bewildered, “Danny? From the war? Our best friend? Took a bullet to the teeth while on the gun. Our Danny boy? You pulled both our arses out of that hellhole... Is this a joke?”

Chopstick sighed. “Oh yeah. That guy.” She grinned, fit to swallow something very large, though the right side of her face seemed to have developed a twitch. “I reckon she’ll b- he’ll be pretty chuffed to see me, ey?”

“I hope so,” the man held the door for Chopstick, “I have a pit in my stomach, you know what they say about some of the good old boys who never adjusted.”

“Eh, don’t worry. I think she’ll be juuust fine.” Chopstick chuckled and slithered out of bed and onto the floor, her white vest hanging loosely from her frame. Now let me just figure out what a Studebaker is and we’ll be right as rain.

Within a few minutes they were on their way. Choppy let her head dangle out the car window like a over eager dog. They zipped by grey sidewalks and brown buildings. People were going about their business and the clouds hung low over them. The man with Chopstick wore a worried look, like he was about to be sick and then finally he cranked the shifter in the car and put her in park. They were outside an apartment building.

The man exited the car with a slam and began to walk up the chipped stairway to the front door. Chopstick followed suite as the man pushed the heavy door open and made his way down a stained hallway that reeked of cigarettes. To her, it smelled of heaven.

Eventually the pair came upon Apartment 2B. The man gave it a stiff knock but there was no answer. He shared a cursory glance with Chopstick before trying the handle, it turned. The man sucked in a breath and pushed the door open.

“Daniel?”

The door opened into a kitchen that was rather unkempt, with dishes piling and the icebox open and thawed. The man made a face as he exited into the living room, and then he froze.

Daniel sat on the floor in his pajamas, tears staining his face and prosthetic right jaw. Burn scars wrinkled the back of his bald head and the nozzle of a gun was pressed into his mouth.

The man held out his hands, “Daniel- what are you doing. Daniel!?”

Daniel met eyes with Chopstick. Her skewers stared at him, unwavering, and the room grew so quiet you could just about hear them creak. Very gently, very slowly, Chopstick stepped across the room, put one hand on Daniel’s shoulder, and pulled the gun away.

“Here,” she said. “It’s much easier if I do it.”

Daniel’s brain peppered the floor for an instant before he fell, his body covering the mess. The other man was screaming, swearing and rushing towards Chopstick. Before he could ever get close enough, a man wearing a nice black suit, smoking a long white cigarette appeared in the corner of the room. He looked over the scene with a long stare to match the drag on his cig. Suddenly the stranger snapped his fingers and-

And then she was awake.

The sea lapped gently at the gravel beach around her feet. Wind rustled in the leaves. Some had fallen to cover her- she’d been here for some time. She sighed. Building the Feasting Forest had taken a lot out of her.

She rubbed her mouth and yawned. The right side of her face had developed a twitch. She looked out over the strait (why was it boiling?) and thought back to the images flashing in her head. A dream. A long dream. She didn’t know what to make of it. But...

Vakk was right, she thought. Killing is fun.

For a long time, Urhu had drifted through Galbar. Ever since her talk with Shengshi, she had dedicated all of her attention and curiosity towards her idea, however, as much as she tried to come up with it, there was always something that seemed to be missing. Sometimes she wondered if going back to her brother’s palace would help, but her heart told her that what she searched for was not something she would find there.

One would have expected her to have strong feelings about certain things that had transpired on Galbar - but in truth, she was too focused to care. Even Asceal’s explosion, something that was directly her fault, had been handwaved. She had desired a more peaceful solution and had not even considered causing destruction so great that the effects would be irreversible as an option, yet it was what had happened and it had worked, and that was what mattered. In her mind, Asceal would not have had the second sun blow up her sphere if she had not made the second sun in the first place.

On her travels she noticed new lands rising up from the sea, most were normal, but some were elusive. It seemed many of her siblings had gone to great efforts to make areas of difficult access, made to mess with travelers. She understood the thought, but they had to understand that they were indirectly challenging her to brave such areas.

Along the way, the goddess would start to use her divine energy to create little ‘notes’ for later, when her mind was free, so she could easily find locations of her interest.

In the continent controlled by her brother, neighbor, and god of the hunt, she extended her hand and a mountain rose from the ground. A simple mountain would not do, and as such, this mountain had large blocks of what appeared to be polished moonstone.

In the continent north of where she had met Shengshi, she found a pleasant natural harbor hidden in a cliffside cavern. Urhu would reshape that cavern, opening its walls up to an extent, but keep the cavernous aspect of it.

Finally, her siblings’ attempts to hide an entire continent had certainly left her apprehensive, she could easily find it, but she wanted to invest more on knowing where things were. Her answer to this issue would come in the form of fish, a little test of the waters for future possibilities. Blessing the waters near the elusive continent, she created a moving ecosystem. Every few days, the schools of fish would go to the surface and shine, a natural instinct making these fishes always track the shifting lands.

The goddess felt she was becoming used by now to create ways to track the lands she visited, recognizing and memorizing what was distinct, and, if necessary, creating her own markings. Yet this was a skill that did not help with her main objective at the moment, and as such, she continued to drift across the oceans and continents…



Mount Muspell belched and for miles around the seafloor shook and the waters frothed and turned angrily. Searingly hot ash and smoke swirled and swelled into the air, and lava streamed down the seething volcano’s sides. Large waves rose and fell, crashing resoundingly against the well-worn southern cliffs and shores of Kalmar’s newly-raised and jealously guarded continent. And from the mess of twisting and turning smoke, there emerged a great mass of tendrilous lava that speared at the sky then extended and spread out until, encompassing the world from horizon to horizon, it was a second sky. And from the smoke there exploded a goddess running at speed, her face set in a focused frown. With each swift and powerful stride she exploded forth, outrunning even the air. Higher and higher she raced, her hair exploding and writhing about her, leaving a great fiery trail in her wake as though she were some comet streaming across Galbar’s skies.

Seihdhara could see that there was now a landmass that had either not been there before, or that she had not taken notice of, rather close to Mount Muspell. As she she maintained her aerial dash to get as far from Mount Muspell as she could, she ducked beneath a cloud, dove, and Galbar suddenly spread out below her. The new continent presented itself for her appraisal, and the goddess very suddenly came to a screeching stop and took pause in the heavens, her immense red hair now drifting in the wind and now twisting and snaking about itself or about her, and she observed the great landmass. It was bare. She took a few aerial steps, and her hair shimmered and rustled. But now that she looked more carefully, there seemed to be a rather pretty mountain standing defiantly on the sea, and it glittered and glistened - now a pale blue and now white, and now a yellow and now the most subtle, oddly comforting, purple.

Not too far along the coast Seihdhara spotted a great patch of green, and excitement gripped her. She had been so mired in the series of increasingly strange incidents that had been happening to her since entering this world that she had not truly had time to take things in properly. Now, at last, she had a moment of calm. She drifted forward, then - one step, two steps - and she plummeted explosively towards the one patch of living land on the great landmass. Her hair streamed behind her like a great river of flame across the heavens, a great red spear dashing impossibly towards its target. Air clawed at her in an effort to slow the flaming goddess, now catching her shoulder and now tugging at her hair, but no protesting wind was stopping the goddess.

Yet Seihdhara did not crash into the forest. When she was close enough, her hair very suddenly extended outwards like a great canopy, catching the air and slowing the goddess considerably. She laughed at the floaty feeling, and then her hair wrapped up around her and, with two preparatory steps, she leapt, flipped in mid air, and dove right down into the trees. She snaked about branches despite her speed and very soon landed gently in the thicket where she fell on her back and breathed deeply. This was good. Comforting. Cosy. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to take it all in. The winds rustling in the leaves, the leaves falling, small plants growing in the thicket, the trees themselves breathing, sighing, growing.

She opened her eyes and looked at them curiously. Back beyond the Door she had spread Kappy’s souls to everything - to the grasses and the trees, the rivers and the mountains and the hills, to the very winds. Here though, despite a soul visibly throbbing in every tree, the earth itself did not seem to have a soul, or the pebbles and rocks strewn everywhere, or the streams. And the world felt all the emptier for it. Perhaps she could try to give them souls? It felt right.

Getting on her hands and knees she looked about her, sensing the little bits of soul dust that permeated the air everywhere. She tapped the air with one hand, tapped the earth with another. She tapped again. The slightest ripple pulsed outwards - not in the physical air, but in the air of souls. She tapped again, more urgently, and the ripple became a rush. She smiled and tapped a third, and it was a great surge. Then she extended a hand and gripped, and in her hand there was a ghostly rope. She pulled once, but it would not give, so pulled again. Standing, she gripped the otherworldly rope with two hands and pulled with greater strength. One step back she went, the rope with her, and another. And when she was half way through the third, it suddenly gave and she went flying - not only due to the force of her pulling, but the surge.

Something - Seihdhara knew not what - had been actively stopping souls from making a home in natural phenomena like rocks and rivers. Seihdhara watched as an endless stream of soul dust exploded through the breach she had created and rushed towards the earth and rocks and distant mountains, into the wind and off into the sea. The trees rustled about her, as if stretching, and the smaller plants seemed to give off long sighs. Seihdhara smiled and bent down to a small blade of grass, stroking it. It shivered. Gently the goddess lifted it from the root, leaving enough soil and moisture for it to live for a time yet. A tress of hair curled about the single grass blade and it disappeared in Seihdhara’s endless hair. She watched the flow of soul dust for some time, and then she frowned. Though great amounts were attempting to access the rocks and wind and earth, they did not seem to be meeting with any success. For whatever reason the rocks here seemed to… reject the souls? Or maybe the souls of this world were different and could not enter such things and forces naturally. It seemed a shame to Seihdhara, and she fell on her back again and closed her eyes. She listened to the song of the birds - the only creatures in this forest besides the insects everywhere, it seemed - and it took her back to the song of those little creatures on that island seemingly so long ago. That tune…

She opened her eyes and extended a tress up into the trees, breaking a branch and bringing it down were she proceeded to hollow it out and carve it with her hairs. When it was complete, Seihdhara took the flute into her hands and, blowing on it a few times, brought it to her lips and held it there. She did not blow, but allowed herself to live the moment, and the many moments like it that she had lived and made merry and sang and danced with her beloved grizzlies and children, clapping and whirling about the flames, some playing wooden flutes while others blew energetically into panpipes. She remembered their laughter as she began playing, and the memory brought tears to her eyes, and anger that those good days had to end.

Her father had been angry. It was true, she had disobeyed him. But to strike her loves down like that, to tear her from her children, to imprison her, the youngest of his daughters.



And so she had climbed, and she spoke as her father bid her to the Aerian Wind. But then she remembered what father had once said to her as she lay wrapped up warm and safe in a blanket by the fire -



She had been a little girl then, could one punish her for being curious? And she had raised her head - ever so slightly, mind you - to see. But she saw nothing but the ruffling of her long red hair as it whipped all about her and disappeared even beyond the four horizons. And the Aerian Wind caught her, and carried her oh so far away to a land of endless snow and trees. And she dragged her hair in snow till the grizzly found her and took her with him home. And there in the home of the grizzly bear, with his wife and all his children, the little red-haired girl grew. Then in time she was no longer a little girl, but a woman full-formed and beautiful.

And she married and was happy, and her naked little children danced and played about her feet - funny little things, neither bear nor god. And they brought much joy to their mother, and they brought much joy to their many fathers. And she dwelled in a small lodge near her father's mount, and was in all ways content.

And when the old grizzly knew that death was soon coming to accompany him on the next journey, and he feared ascending to see her father once his life was ended, he called upon all the grizzlies and sent one of her children up to call her father down, that his daughter may be returned at last. And her father had come rushing down as a mighty whirlwind to the lodge where his daughter lived expecting the little girl. But when he saw the full-grown woman and mother a great anger took him, and he struck the old grizzly down and cursed grizzlies everywhere to forevermore walk on four feet, their head cast low. And he scattered her children - his grandchildren! - across the earth. And he put out the mountain fire she had basked in as a child and took her and all her siblings back with him to the sky, from where she constantly launched her gaze earthward just as earnestly as her children looked heavenward. And her father caused nature itself to oppress them, and so she had taught them - though her father knew it not - how to protect themselves.

Then one day she was offered freedom. A Door opened where there had been none, and it bid her enter and partake in creation. Freedom. She had not wanted to step in, only look through - she had only been curious, you see, for she thought she could smell the salt of the sea. And her crimson hair had been swallowed in, and she fell head-first through the First Door. And when she rose, she was on a bare shore, the sea stretching out before her and her endless hair spearing every horizon. She had stared wide-eyed then, and she had raised her hands to her face and wept - cried for beauty, and cried because she knew. She knew there was no going back. And she cried even now as she remembered - remembered the new siblings she had met, remembered her Dwyni and her Newygnong, remembered the sword-child she had birthed to be her joy and comfort in that new world.

Seihdhara lifted the flute from her lips and looked up with wet eyes. She had not noticed them, but a number of birds were now sat gaping at her, stunned and grieved by the deep sadness in the sounds - and yet for all its sadness, its core was all hope. Seihdhara wiped her tears away and tucked the flute into her hair. Yes, hope. A steeliness entered her eyes then. She had determined, when she passed the First Door, that she would open it and bring her children through. And now that she had passed through a Second Door, she determined that she would open that too and bring the rest of her soul, the rest of her hair, her beloved Dwyni and all who she loved through. She raised a hand and looked at it, and when she clenched it into a fist a shower of golden dust exploded from it, and there came before her the apparition of a shortsword. She smiled. Ursus Mater was still with her it seemed. For all her losses, she had not lost all.

Rising to her feet - and so causing her bird audience to scatter - she kicked the earth and leapt into the air, and with two great bounds took off into the air. Up through the canopy and into the clear sky. She did not go higher, however, preferring to maintain some proximity to the sea of green. Peals of joyous laughter echoed across the forest, her feet touching the crowns of innumerable trees as she went breezing by. And then forest gave way to grassy plain, and plain gave way to sand, and sand gave way to sea as far as the eye could go. Seihdhara beelined for the surface of the water, and as her speeding feet grew closer the water began to swirl and foam beneath her. She brought her knees to her chest, looked down as the surface approached, and then she stretched out suddenly so that her heels skimmed the surface of the water even as she continued gliding onwards. Foam and spray flew all about her in a hail of sound and wetness, and she was soon soaked from head to toe and laughing.

Whooooo! She whooped for any who would hear, her arms spread out to meet the air and spraying water as she transition to running on the surface of the sea. She did not realise quite how fast she was going, for soon enough she saw land. Immediately she made for it, whooping and letting her joy and excitement be known.



Urhu was calmly flying Nyeothay Tag over the sea when she stopped, looking up into the sky with apprehension. It seemed that yet another celestial object had been launched towards the world, this time it was some sort of… red comet? Nevertheless, the wanderer took the ship’s wheel and commanded it let go of its speed and size in an attempt to avoid whatever that was. The comet continued at speed, and as it approached it became clear that it was making strange sounds - whooping and cheering, and every now and then the odd ‘Tu! Emu! Nuyyu! Oh! Yeo! Kea! Hea! Ha! Ey!’

Hearing this Urhu froze… She knew the voice, and was glad it was who it was, but she could not help but to wonder how could she know those words. Thoughts over such things as Urhu still wanted to stop Nyeothay Tag to be on the side of safety.

And now that it was far closer, it was clear that this was no comet, but Seihdhara made whole (or at least more whole) and more glorious than the Ugly Old Ogre had willed. The goddess seemed rather focused on the great island she now heading towards and did not notice the ship and Urhu on it. But as she looked here and there her eyes finally settled on the strange boat. From high up where Seihdhara was, it looked to be made of wood, but her divine senses told her that this was no the case at all. A structure that looked something like a great shack stood on its deck, and on top of the shack there were many animal-shaped structures - deers and birds and dogs. Curious, Seihdhara bent her knees and dived for the great boat. ‘Ahoy there!’ She announced as she approached at speed, and just before she crashed feet first into the ships deck her hair exploded outwards suddenly and she decelerated almost immediately. She floated inches from the deck for a few moments, and then her feet settled on the wood-like deck. Immediately she sensed a familiar presence and, eyes wide with excitement she rushed about in search of the presence. ‘Rhu?’ She called as she wandered about, her hair trailing all over the place and falling off over the boat’s side into the water.

From under the sea of red hair, Urhu emerged, having been on a spot that had been covered by the hair. Brushing aside the threads, she raised her hand. “That would be me, yes.” She told her, in a somewhat playful tone. “Nice to see you again, Seihdhara, and it seems you have recovered your other half!” Seihdhara’s eyes widened with joy when Urhu emerged, and she leapt at the other god. At the last second she remembered her friend’s warning against painful bear hugs and rather than crashing into her, as she fully intended to do, swept her off her feet instead and twirled her about.

‘Yes! It’s back! And it’s all thanks to you!’ And she planted kisses on the other god’s forehead and cheeks as she said it, ‘you made it possible Rhu! Thank you!’ And though she would have been happy to hug the other god for days, her encounter with Orvus had taught her that not everyone enjoyed close physical contact as much as she did, and so she eventually - if reluctantly - put the other goddess down. ‘You won’t believe what happened after I left you Rhu-rhu, it’s been one horrible thing after another!’ As she spoke she tugged on her hair and the strands slowly began to wrap themselves tightly about her like a second skin until the deck of the Nyeothay Tag was free of hair and safe to walk again. ‘First I got in a fight with Orvy and he turned my hair white! And he threw a massive asteroid at me. It was going to destroy that Old Ogre’s moon, but I didn’t let that happen - but then the asteroid came towards here instead,’ she looked about curiously, ‘but the planet’s still here, so I’m guessing somebody dealt with it. But anyway, I told him not to do stupid stuff like throwing asteroids at people. Then he went off and I followed him - and I fell asleep. But while I was asleep my hair saw Orvy save me from a painful trampling by that laughing madman Narz! And when I woke up I saw the planet and my goodness, it was so pretty! So I went down and - ugh, did I tell you that Orvy made my hair go all white and icky? And when I was flying down to the planet it all burnt off and I became bald!! So ugly,’ she scrunched her nose up at the memory, then shook her head, ‘but anyway, you won’t believe this, but that crazy Sealy went and made a big explosion and she chopped me up in two! It was the worst. And then that crazy Cat-head tried to kill me! And after that, Danglydong tried to eat me! Heh, but I showed him!’ She laughed at the memory of Sartravius groaning and carrying his belly after she exploded from inside him. ‘What about you Rhu? What’ve you been up to? Is this your boat? It’s pretty. I really like the dogs on the roof!’

Still dizzy from being twirled around, Urhu started to nod, trying to catch up to the torrent of information being thrown at her with fury unmatched. “White hair… Orvy… Narz… Planet… bald? Ah…” she thought, freezing at the mention of the explosion, she had no idea she had caused so much trouble to Seihd when she fixed Asceal’s mistakes, but there was little time to linger on this when the red-haired goddess continued to talk, it was the sort of wound that would hurt more on the next morning. “Cat… Eaten?”

The goddess of travel shook her head, confused, and reached forward, taking the other goddess’ hands. “I am glad you liked my ship, it has been so useful for me! I myself have not been up to much, Seihd, not as much as you, but I can tell you about it. First, however, would you not like to get in and have something to eat or drink? Then you can tell me about how you were eaten by a cat among other things.” Seihdhara laughed and nudged Urhu playfully with a hand.
‘Not by the cat silly!’And she took off towards the interior with Urhu’s hand still in hers. Realising that she had no idea how to navigate around the boat, she turned to Urhu and put her in front, ‘I haven’t eaten in… forever! I could eat the boat! So yes, food it is!’

“Eat the boat? Well then, better leave it in the largest of its forms then.” Urhu smirked and entered Nyeothay Tag. Even at its largest size, it was easy for a god to tell there was some extent of space bending within the ship’s cabin, nevertheless, the location itself was quite simple in looks, wooden furniture, simple linen over flat wood benches, decorations made from seashells and feathers she had collected in the Eye. A simple room more that did not seem to belong to a god but to a humble mortal, albeit one that really cared about keeping things organized and decorated with the little they had. Seihdhara trailed a hand along the wooden furniture as she passed by and stroked the linen on the benches. She appraised the feathers and seashells decorating the place with a little starstruck smile, and only Urhu’s voice caused her to shake herself out of her wonder and go after her. She liked this place. It reminded her of… of home. Cosy, simple, warm. Not a physical warmth, but a spiritual warmth of familial gatherings and the get-togethers of friends; of evenings spent wrapped up in so many blankets slumbering by the fire while Father snored in his great rocking chair; of being pressed against the warm fur of a lover while thunder and hail pounded the world outside; of raining kisses and laughter on now this child of her bosom and now that and watching their eyes light up in wonder when regaled with tales that once regaled her.

“I did a hunting trip to the Eye archipelago, it was created by that meteor your mentioned.” The wanderer said as she entered the kitchen, reaching into a box and taking out meat cuts much larger than it was possible to store in it. “Very nice place, really, got myself a lot of meat, then I made some trophies and clothes with what was left because wasting an animal is not very respectful.” Seihdhara noted Urhu’s words and smiled distantly as she took a seat. How many times - sternly, kindly, firmly, warningly - had she heard such words from puckered grizzly lips? After some moments, Urhu returned to her sister with a plate full of simmering lizard meat steaks, covered in nuts and fruits she had found while scavenging. She then reached for a cupboard and took out a bottle and a cup, filling the cup with a strange liquid that had a distinct and strong burning smell. “All yours. If you want more, just ask, I have plenty.” Seihdhara nodded and stared at the food giddily and was about to dig in with abandon when she took pause. She looked to Urhu with a slight frown and spoke.

‘Uh, Rhu? What about you? Won’t you eat with me?’ Then she inspected the odd liquid and smelled the bottle. She had never before come across such a strange odour - not back in the previous world and not in her home world either - and she scrunched her nose up and placed the bottle a distance from her, ‘a-and, what’s that?’

“I will admit I am somewhat tired of lizard meat… But, hmm, I suddenly got an appetite!” Sharing a meal with others was typically very fun, at least it had been with the river god, she could only guess it would also be enjoyable with Seihdhara. “Oh… Hehe, that is wine, a gift from Shengshi” she explained, sitting by Seihdhara’s side, getting herself some of it. “Very unique flavor, but quite nice, you cannot drink too much or your head starts to feel light… unless that is what you are aiming for.” Seihdhara raised an eyebrow and chuckled - a drink that made you lightheaded? How odd.

‘Shengshi...Shengshi…’ she muttered to herself as she watched Urhu drink from the cup, ‘he’s the…’ she frowned as she tried to remember the other gods, but on this occasion only the information which the Ugly Old Ogre had forced into her head came through, ‘the wet snakey one right?’ Without waiting any longer, she finally reached for the steak and ripped a morsel that she swiftly plopped into her mouth. She savoured it and looked to Urhu with approval before popping some nuts in after it. A single strand of hair floated off and curled about the cup of wine Urhu had poured her, and she brought it close for further inspection. It had a rich, orange-gold colour that was very much to Seihdhara’s liking, and the smell - now that she sniffed it again - was not altogether bad. Carefully, she brought the cup to her lips to wash down the food. Its taste was just as pungent as its smell, but sweeter than Seihdhara was expecting. She took another sip and smiled approvingly before digging into the food and more readily washing the meat and nuts and fruit down with the sweet golden liquid. ‘It’sh very goot!’ She declared with a mouthful of food, before muttering a small ‘ooh, pardon me,’ and swallowing. She extended her now empty cup out to Urhu as she downed mouthful after mouthful of the well-cooked, lovingly-made food. Urhu did not only care for the animals she hunted it seemed, she was also a fine cook and one who put her heart into what she made - and Seihdhara could taste that.

“Yes, the snakey one. I think you should visit him when you can, he is a great host and a very friendly god, a rare thing,” she said, smiling somewhat proud at seeing Seihdhara enjoy the food she had made, and it also seemed like she had overgrown her suspicions over wine. The wanderer poured her some more and took some for herself as well, before continuing. “I will be honest, I have not met many gods down here, just him and Parvus, many of our siblings just don’t seem to enjoy each other’s company. I understand the feeling, but there are moments for being alone and moments for being with others.”

Taking a bit of starfruit and eating it, Urhu sighed. “So.. what was the whole thing with Cat-Heads and the such again?”

Seihdhara gulped more of the food down and took a sip of wine. She was curious about this Shengshi now, and this Parvus. She would have to have Urhu tell her about her encounters with them in more detail. For now though, she focused on the other goddess’ question. ‘Well, I guess I’ll start from when I found myself torn right out of my body…’ the saffron-haired goddess began.



If not for the natural happiness brought about by alcohol and food, Urhu would have been raging. She knew many others were somewhat messed up, but the things Seihdhara described were terrible, especially the burning of souls. She had seen so many memories from so many worlds when she entered this universe, to think of all that as gone… burned down… angered her. Albeit that was far from the only thing. “What kind of person eats a sibling like that? Like… wow. Messed up stuff!” she said in a slow manner, the wine clear in the redness of her face. “I hope you took, like, a loooong bath in the ocean after that. Your hair is too pretty to smell like the entrails of some god.” Seihdhara covered her face with one of her hands at the compliment and giggled, then she reached down and smelled a strand of her own hair.

‘I- hic. I didn’t. But I think it all burnt away. I-it was hot in there.’ She stroked her tresses absent-mindedly, ‘and, well. That’s the thing y’know. They’re not-’ she paused and bit her lip before taking another sip of wine. ‘I… I’ve been thinking, after all of this. And I realise now that…’she looked at Urhu fearfully, ‘you are my sister Rhu-rhu. B-because I want you. And like you. A lot. And you’re nice. But the others…’she looked away with a hint of sadness in her eyes and left the only logical conclusion to her words unspoken. She emptied her cup and extended her hand for more. ‘That Cat-head was the worst. H-he made me feel bad for wanting to live and w-wanting to be free. And for not wanting him to burn my memories a-’ she scowled suddenly, ‘and my soul. And would you believe it, he wanted to look into me as I burnt, know all my memories! I- hic. It’s not nice. But also- also. The souls.’ She grimaced, even the memory of their pain and suffering as they frayed and shredded causing her discomfort. ‘They were not normal. Something was very wrong with them - like they were slowly being peeled away. I don’t understa- hic. Understand w-why. I... have to fix that.’

Urhu reached forward and placed her hands on Seihdhara’s shoulder. “I know you will figure it out, so far nothing has stopped you… just delayed you a bit. But hey, let’s not dwell on these bad thoughts, they have their time, but now it's the turn of merriment.” she poured more wine for her sister, who nodded and forced a smile. “And you know what? If the other gods want to be stupid and treat your poorly, their loss, your company is a gift not a burden. Let them retreat to their shells and shrivel up all alone!” she took an angry sip from her cup, even coughing a bit. Seihdhara giggled at Urhu’s words and nodded vigorously in agreement, her sadness suddenly forgotten. She took a hearty drink from her cup and looked more closely at her sister. She was cute when she was drunk and red-faced. And angry. Seihdhara chuckled again.

”There are other gods who don’t act like blowhards. Shengshi, as I said… and I am sure Azura must be at least interesting to talk with.. And…” having a hard time to think about her nicer siblings, she banged the cup on the table and sighed. ”Anyway! Just know this, you… can stay in Nyeothay Tag for as long as you desire. I have spare bedrooms and more than enough wine! I can show you some places I found on this plane and we can like, hunt together if you want… And talk more... And stuff!” Seihdhara’s eyes, which had begun to show signs of drowsiness, brightened at the suggestion and she looked around at their homey surroundings.

‘I can stay?’ She asked incredulously. ‘You and me? We can hunt together? And go places?’ She stared at Urhu for a bit - whether the the drink was slowing her down and befuddling her or she was still registering her sister’s words, it was not quite clear - and then she extended a few tendrils of hair around Urhu and brought her into an embrace. She placed her head on her sister’s shoulder and sighed happily. ‘I’d like that. A lot. W-we should,’ she yawned, ‘go do that right away. I wanna see all the pretty places.’

Urhu smiled and hugged her sister back, it had been lonely since she left Shengshi’s palace, she had forgotten how much she had missed talking to others. ”I will order the boat to move, I have made a whole lot of landmarks on Galbar, and Nyeothay Tag can go to them by itself.” she said, waving her hand behind Seihdhara a bit to send the order to her boat. ”Are you sure you are not tired, though? This hug is far softer than the first!.” the wanderer giggled. Seihdhara’s eyes snapped open at the word tired, and she stood suddenly picking Urhu up and placing her on a shoulder while blinking furiously.

‘Me? Tired? No! We’re gonna see the pretty places!’She declared as she carried Urhu out of the kitchen and into the furnished room beyond. Seihdhara paused there and yawned again. All that drinking had really made her quite drowsy and she was not entirely sure she understood what she was saying or what she wanted. She noticed that she was carrying Urhu and was taken aback by that, wondering when and how that happened before quickly putting her down. A tendril of hair, unsteady and not moving quite as certainly and gracefully as normal, made its way out of the kitchen wrapped around two more bottles of wine. Seihdhara grinned suddenly and shoved one of the bottles into Urhu’s hands. She took a swig from the other bottle and sighed, her eyes relaxing visibly. ‘Ok. First. F-first we’re gonna. To see places we want to see first.’ Her eyes lit up and she took Urhu’s hand and dashed outside. She slipped and fell at the door but was up swiftly, unfazed. ‘The doggy! I wanna see the doggy first. Such a nice doo- A-and then allova- all ovtha ship. A-and-’ she looked at Urhu with wide eyes, tears brimming in them all of a sudden, ‘you said- my own room?’

Urhu did not know exactly what had happened as Seihdhara started darting around… carrying her around. All she knew was that she was somewhat intimidated and making mental notes about training, then she was back on the floor… then she was flying outside being pulled by her hand. ”The dog… sure? It's on the roof… Oh?” she stopped as her sister stared at her, Urhu gulping and nodding slowly. ”Y-Yes? I have a lot of spare rooms, i-if you want.” she caught herself stuttering… it felt like deja-vu, but she did not know why. Seihdhara scratched her head and nodded, raised a hand to say something and realised she was holding the bottle. Blinking a few times, she handed the bottle to Urhu. ‘Tha- that’s for you.’ She then saw that Urhu had another bottle in her hand, ‘I- I’ll take that one.’ And she plucked the other bottle with an uncertain strand of hair. ‘I think Rhu-rhu maybe… maybe we should rest first. B-before seeing the pretty things.’ The delirious saffron-haired goddess looked at her sister and, uncertain on her feet, reached out to her for steadiness. She seemed calmer now, but she had seemed rather calm in the kitchen too. ‘To bed. To bed. The old man said.’ She sang to herself and giggled, and then she seemed to remember something and she shuffled around in her endless hair for something. After a minute or so of rummaging about, she finally emerged triumphantly with a wooden flute. ‘R-Rhu! F-for you. Here.’ And she extended the wooden flute to her sister with an excited drunken smile.

”When did you...How... “ Urhu shook her head, she was putting too much thought into it. She took the flute, patted it until it was free from red hair strands, and then took a deep breath before playing a very plain sounding tune, neither good nor bad. ”Hah… It makes a nice sound… I don’t remember seeing something quite like it before, but I was for some reason expecting a higher pitch, but I like this.” she played with it a bit more, more for the fun of it than anything, then smiled. ”Thanks sister.” she then gently wrapped one arm around Seihd so she would have better footing, and started to guide her back into Nyeothay Tag. It was a good thing that at this size nobody had to take ladders, she did not know if she would manage to and she knew for sure Seihdhara wouldn’t.

Seihdhara allowed Urhu to guide her through the ship. And as the other goddess helped her, the impassioned Seihdhara told her how she would teach her a few good tunes to play on the flute, and how she had played it herself to some birds back in a pretty forest. And she looked about them and commented about one piece of furniture or a particularly pretty feather. ‘Y-you’ve made it so nice and warm Rhu. It’s warm.’ Seihdhara muttered and looked down at her sister. Just then Urhu moved to brush some stray hairs out of her face, and that caused her right sleeve to fall back slightly revealing an odd flame-red tattoo. Seihdhara let out a gasp and reached for her sister’s arm. ‘What’s that Rhu-rhu?’
Urhu looked down confused, then gasped in realization; the tattoo she had made as a memento of Seihdhara back when she arrived on Galbar. “When I came to talk with you after you fought the cyclops, you ended up staining my skin with some of your blood.” she explained, it felt weird to put it out in words. “When I arrived in Galbar, most of that blood was being washed away, but I decided that I did not want to fully erase that, as it served as a reminder of what the Architect had done... but also of you.” she added. “I know it sounds stupid, but I was somewhat paranoid about forgetting important things.”

Seihdhara’s eyes softened at her sister’s revelation, and she smiled a full-toothed, hearty smile, her eyes creasing up. ‘It’s not stupid. I underst- understand that. It’s beautiful. We have t-to protec-hic, our memories.’ She seemed to think on this and realise something, ‘I should get one too! To remember not to forget.’ She looked at her hands and the tattoos alread- her eyes widened and she looked frantically at the unmarked back and palm of her hands, and realisation dawned. Her original body… she fought the tears away and quickly smiled, not wishing to ruin the beauty and magic of what Urhu had told her. ‘WHEN I WAKE UP, I’M GETTING A BLOOD TATTOO TOO!’ She declared, pounding her chest with an arm and nearly knocking herself over. She steadied herself on Urhu again and wrapped an arm about the other’s shoulder. She had been at ease and peace with her sister before, but now there was something more. Her heart flitted here and there, but in her drunken state she could not quite work out what it was.

Urhu smiled seeing her sister shift in spirit again, she was glad Seihdhara had reassured her, but she blinked rapidly as she saw her examining her own hands. Something had clearly gone missing. “Hah, that can be arranged. I think tattoos would look great on you. But for now, remember what the old man said, to bed, to bed.”

Seihdhara laughed out loud and slowly nodded one too many times. Then she pointed ahead and repeated the proverbial old man’s words. ‘Yesh. To bed, to bed, the old man said, and wouldn stay for an aaanswer. This old man, he said one, he said knick knack on my tum, and a knick knack oh and knick knack eeh, this old man went flying free!’And as Seihdhara and Urhu made their stumbling way to the bedroom, the saffron-haired goddess babbled a number of rhymes she knew. In ages past and worlds not of this world, she had been a mother after all and had sang her children to sleep.

It was noticeable across the corridor that unlike in Shengshi’s palace, all rooms were of about the same size, including Urhu’s own room, the wanderer taking Seihdhara to the one left of that. “It’s pretty barren, sorry.” she told her, in reference to it being a bed, a window and a table. “I will take care of that later!” her tone was legitimately apologetic, Seihdhara would discover that the mattress however was quite soft and in a pristine state, Urhu doing her best to stop her sister from just dropping on the bed like a rock. “Comfortable?”

Seihdhara rolled about on the bed a few times, one of her strands wonkily placing the bottle of wine on the one table. Seihdhara looked up at Urhu groggily and nodded. ‘Yeh, nearly. Just need…’ and suddenly Seihdhara’s strands wrapped about Urhu’s waste and, lifting her gently, brought her to the bed where Seihdhara swiftly wrapped her arms about the other goddess and squeezed her like a great stuffed toy. ‘Now it’s… puhhfe…’ she muttered, already asleep. A small satisfied smile lined her lips and her face - after all she had seen since entering this strange new world - was utterly serene. In this universe of unknown dangers and treachery, she had found the one safe place. And she soaked herself in it.

The wanderer gasped as she was grabbed and went red when she found herself being hugged. She tried to gently leave at first, but the combat goddess was far stronger even when asleep. Eventually, she was slowly persuaded to just give up, she was drowsy from the wine and glad Seihdhara had a peaceful expression in her face.



Seihdhara woke up with a loud moan and a stretch. It would be noticeable that Urhu had left earlier, needing less rest than the reborn goddess. She rolled about sleepily, mumbling something about that hit the spotbefore pushing herself to her knees. Immediately a wave of dizziness caught her and she fell back to the pillow, grumbling something incomprehensible. Eventually however, wrestling with the blanket that had managed to get twisted and entangled about her, she managed to fall of the side of the bed. Using her hair for support, she pushed herself up and one cheeky strand reached for the waiting bottle of wine. Though dizzy and feeling nauseous, the saffron-haired goddess yet had her wits about her and swiftly pulled the rebellious strand away. ‘Oh no you do-’ and then her eyes widened as her stomach lurched and she knew she had to get out.

At speeds she did not think herself quite capable of in her state, she launched herself out of the room, through the corridor and well-furnished room, past the kitchen and exploded onto the deck where she swiftly made for the side of the ship - just about holding back the floodgates. Placing her head over the side, she emptied the contents of last night’s dinner into the sea. She watched with bleary eyes as the biological ejecta spread with the waves, and then suddenly exploded outwards as now odd orange fish with lizard-like features swam this way and little winged sprytes pulled themselves from the water and flew of that way. There were not many of them, a handful of fish and three or four sprytes, but it was enough to cause the hungover goddess to stare for a few moments.

With her stomach somewhat settled, she turned around and allowed herself to sink to the deck, staring at the cloudy sky. Tiny droplets of rain were wafting in the air, landing on her skin and fizzling away. Now that she thought on it, she had not seen rain on Galbar at all until now. Wherever she went the sun had beaten mercilessly down on everything. Only here were there clouds. She got unsteadily to her feet and made for the doorway leading into the boat’s interior. ‘Rhu-rhu!’ she tried to shout, but it only came out as a somewhat pained croak, ‘it’s raining!’

“That seems to be the case…” Urhu grunted, a bit startled, she had been focusing a lot on a large piece of paper over a wooden board, the goddess drawing something though what was being blocked. Trying to not look too directly at Seihd, she continued to sense the outside and then blinked rapidly. ”Why can I feel your essence on a school of fish? Oh… and…” she had to think hard, it felt like she needed to say something but it was something never said before. ”Ah. Good morning.” Noticing that Urhu seemed busy with something, Seihdhara approached.

‘Good morning to you too!’ she responded as she took a peek over Urhu’s shoulder, ‘I think those fish… well, I think they came out of all that vomit. You were right about drinking too much. Not nice. And there were these little flying things. Whatcha doing?’She stared intently at the drawings Urhu was making, appearing to invest some effort into focusing.

“Ah! This is nothing, forget it.” she says, suddenly placing the paper upside down with the wooden block over it. “Hmm! Reminds me of when I first drank, haha. Do you want me to prepare something to make you feel better? Vomiting fishes ought to be bothersome.” she stood up and smiled. Seihdhara looked distractedly at the paper, her eyes now filled with curiosity.

‘Are you sure you don’t want to show me? I promise I won’t laugh! And hmm, food?’she placed a hand on her stomach, ‘not feeling hungry. Stomach’s still a bit upset. I might end up throwing up more fish if I eat.’She laughed slightly at the idea, before wincing slightly and taking a seat. ‘You know, I talked a lot last night. But you never told me much about what you did. I feel like,’ and she glanced back at the mystery paper, ‘I feel like you’re working on something important. Won’t you tell me?’

Urhu bit her lip, took a deep breath, and then nodded slowly. “Fine, but first things first. I will make you some tea. Do you know it? I know one that helped me when I had drank too much.” she said, moving to the kitchen, the sound of cutlery and pots being moved around echoing through the boat. “You can look into what I was doing if you want, it is pretty flawed, however.” she said, not wanting to leave her sister waiting. Seihdhara looked curiously at the paper and considered waiting on Urhu to show her herself. But since she did not seem to mind (or perhaps did not wish to go through the embarrassment of showing her personally), Seihdhara turned it over carefully and looked. A figure of the same landscape was repeated four times on each corner of the paper, Urhu was not the best at drawing, but the images were good enough to give an idea. One had blooming flowers and gentle winds, one had clear blue skies and a strong sunshine, one had the land covered in snow, the other… was somewhat dead, about as withered as the cold one, but with nothing that made it distinct beyond that.

“And here you go.” she said, placing the tea filled cup on the table, a trail of steam being left along the way. “Didn’t I say it was nothing? It is quite underwhelming, really cannot make this work, especially with that spot between the hot and the cold season.” she sighed. Seihdhara continued to stare at the paper, clearly absorbed.

‘The bit between the hot and the cold season?’ she asked, looking at the representation of the dead landscape. She frowned and placed her finger on the blue skies and strong sun, before moving it to the snow. She liked the colours, it was a nice contrast.“Yeah. I mean, I am fine with theme of withering, but this one is just depressive, nothing but grey, brown, and leafless trees. It needs something more, something that fits between the plentiful of this one and the hardship of the last one, but I cannot figure out what.” Seihdhara finally put the paper down and took up her cup of tea, a deep frown on her face. She sipped the hot tea, the fact that it was still slightly too hot to drink passing her by.

Colours.

Her eyes narrowed as she thought. The sea was blue and vast, the sky too. Then endless snow, the white of that against the short dark days. Urhu was right, for between the blue and brightness and the white and darkness there had to be something. She took another glance at the complete picture again, extending a strand of hair to bring the page closer. Her eyes widened with curiosity and she placed the strand across the drawing of the dead landscape. Between the brightness and darkness… a sunset. Seihdhara beamed suddenly and looked at Urhu excitedly. ‘A sunset Rhu! You need a sunse-’ she exclaimed, in her enthusiasm forgetting all about the cup of tea and causing it to spill all over her. It hissed against her naked skin and swiftly blew up into a steamy cloud. She blinked a few times and looked down at the content of the cup. There was still some there. Drinking it up in one swallow, she stood up and brought Urhu close. ‘An explosion of colours, Rhu, just like a sunset. Glorious, beautiful, awe-inspiring. That’s what it needs.’ She remembered the little fishes that had exploded from her ejecta, ‘and purple! A very dark one - almost red. All those colours.’ Even as she spoke she seemed to see it and grew all the more excited for it. But then she looked at Urhu, worried that she was not making any sense. ‘D-does that make sense?’ To ensure that her point was clear, she gripped a handful of hair, which quickly hardened and came to a point, and she began scribbling on the representation of the dead land. Immediately the trees were coated in orange-red leaves, and the ground too was littered with them. Seihdhara lifted her hand and looked at her additions, then back to Urhu.

The wanderer had understood what Seihdhara had been going for from the start, leaning her head close and nodding at her wise words, now there seemed to be a true natural flow to the project. “It does!” she said in a loud, excited tone, “It finally does make sense… And it works so well. It's not only beautiful, but is also very calm, almost melancholic… yet this red… it's your red, of perseverance, of not giving up even in the face of the cold death that is to come once all leaves fall…” she smiled widely and Seihdhara blushed visibly. “Seihd… I don't even know… how to thank you! I spent so much time stuck on this, never seeing the possibilities… But you brought the missing piece!” The saffron-haired goddess took Urhu’s hands in her own and laughed.
‘Don’t thank me yet! Let’s do it. I want to make them. They’re going to be beautiful! How do you plan to do it? I wanna help! We should start on the- hmm,’ she frowned, ‘we can’t keep calling them “them” can we? Do you have a name in mind?’

”Hmm, guess I will need to go to my sphere. It's still a blank slate…” Seihdhara’s words about names caught her by surprise, but she nodded, seeing the point, ”Yeah, but I truly do not know what to do with that. I was thinking of just waiting and letting others sort it out.” the wanderer shrugged. Seihdhara nodded distractedly, her mind already fixated on getting to Urhu’s sphere as the next step in their endeavours to make the drawings into reality.

‘Alright! Three two one go!’ she shouted, racing out of the door and bounding into the air. A few moments later her head reemerged at the door, frowning. ‘Your sphere? Where’s that?’

”It is a weird place, to find it, you must get lost.” Urhu told the other goddess, slowly making her way out, to the deck, to join Seihdhara. ”Let me make Nyeothay Tag small, this way we can reach it faster.” and as she said so, the ship started to lose its size, the deck contracting, the structure shifting, until it was no bigger than a small boat where the two gods barely had space for themselves. The considerably larger Seihdhara found herself sat with her knees to her chest, looking about her in surprise at the shrunken ship. The wanderer raised her hand, the ship started to gain speed, the wind blowing against them with great strength, even if the deck itself was shielded from hazards. The saffron-haired goddess laughed as her endlessly long strands were taken up and swept far and wide by the force of the air. The continent below started to turn into a blur, and the mountains in the distance approached them as fast as a tree would approach someone running on foot. Seihdhara turned and watched as the mountains got ever closer, captivated by all that the others had been creating while she was fighting to exist.

‘Who made those?’ she asked, gesturing towards the mountains. ‘And, uh. If we don’t stop soon we’re going to crash right into them!’ She did not seem at all perturbed by this - if anything, she seemed excited at the prospect and muttered something along the lines of tu emu nu…

“I don’t know. I think they kinda come with the whole land raising act, or the whole throwing rocks at Galbar act, or the… well, you get the idea.” not losing speed, she gracefully made the ship slide to the side, gently avoiding the mountain by very small distance. “Hey, where did you learn those words?” she questioned. Seihdhara looked over at Urhu questioningly, before realising which words she meant.

‘Oh, you mean “tu emu nuyyu oh yeo kea hea ha ey”? I heard you say it in this dream once. I liked it and it’s been stuck in my head. I’ve no idea what it means though, sounds like a great battle cry though. Fills the belly with fire!’ She chuckled at this before raising her arms skyward and bellowing the phrase at the top of her lungs so that all of heaven heard it.

Urhu laughed at that, though also taking note about how she learned that from a dream, which was a bit worrisome, she look up at Seihdhara as she screamed it. “You show them. Heh. I guess in a sense it's a battle cry, I sure would love to imagine a field of warriors screaming that to the heavens.” she smirked widely. Seihdhara smiled mischievously at this and noted it.

‘If I have anything to do with it, you won’t have to imagine it for long!’ the warrior goddess said, watching the earth below. ‘As soon as I get the chance, I’ll teach it to others! In fact, I should teach it to you too! When you next find yourself in a pickle just smash the earth with a foot and scream it at the top of your lungs! But that’s for after we make the pictures real.’

“I will remember to do that, not usually my… battle cry, but I see its charm.” with a nod, she lowered the ship down, just over the trees canopies, as they navigated over a small woodland. Raising her hand slightly, the goddess made the ship lose some velocity and go down below the trees, quickly finding its path among the woods until it entered a mist covered area. Soon trees would stop appearing among the fog, and when they left it, they would be in an empty cavern world deep bellow Galbar. Shaking off her curiosity as to what Urhu’s usual battle cry was, Seihdhara watched as her sister navigated the small boat ever downward, through beautiful green woods and eventually to the cavern. Before the ship had even landed, Seihdhara gave off a great excited cry and leapt off the side, her hair trailing wildly behind her as she fell. Once on the ground, she turned and waited on the boat to settle and Urhu to emerge.

Nyeothay Tag gently landed over the ground, and Urhu swiftly jumped out of it, smiling as she saw how excited Seihdhara was, even though she herself was a bit anxious, as this seemed like a much more complicated task from her point of view. “I guess it's easy to see why I prefer to live on my ship, eh?” she joked, looking at the plain nothingness of the cave. Seihdhara looked around thoughtfully, her brows furrowed.

‘It doesn’t seem like your usual style to be honest. It’s not quite as… well-decorated or pretty as the boat. But I’m sure that once we’re done here it will be!’

“Yeah, I just did not know what to do with the place, but come to think of it, the place is in a perfect position to effect Galbar above, its… curious.” she stopped and picked up her picture, some trees and small plants had grown on the sphere, seeds stolen by the wandering fog gateway, she looked at them and focused on the first of the pictures…

Strong winds and earthquakes rocked the sphere as Urhu imbued it with the divine drive of change, as it started to slow down, one would notice that some of the small plants and even a few trees had bloomed together, petals floating on the now gentle breeze. “Phew! First one… Hmmm. Seems nice and pleasant! A bit mild, but also vibrant.” Seihdhara watched in fascination as the sphere turned and roiled, shaping and reshaping itself as the force of divine imagination was unleashed upon it. She grinned widely as it began to settle and the fullness of life ascendant lay resplendent in all its nascent beauty before her. It was beautiful! She leapt towards the previously barren plain, and wherever she stepped flowers and grasses and saplings sprung, the leaves of trees took on a greener hue and budding flowers sprung awake. As she went, the goddess left peals of laughter in her wake, and greenery and life. Moulding and feeling the energies Urhu had released, she was the uncontrolled vigour and zest that Urhu had planned and accounted for perfectly. The latter controlled and precise with a passion, the former wildly fervent and dangerous if loosed without guidance.

When the plain bloomed with nascent life, Seihdhara bolted into the air and ran through the sky, before diving right back to Urhu, whooping and screaming until - laughing giddily - she swept Urhu from her feet, spun her a number of times, and then set her back down. ‘The next one! The next one!’ Seihdhara cried.

“I was going to bring it about but someone swooped me up!” she said, pretending to be angry before laughing, placing a hand on Seihdhara’s side. “I don’t know where you store so much energy and excitement, but I am glad you enjoyed it. I guess strolling through the flowery fields is a proper reaction.” she then focused with the free hand, calling forth even more change towards the sphere, the winds and quakes resuming.

This time, the spirit of change was even more present within the act, hills would rise up from the floor and ravines would appear, the petals quickly scattered in the wind, which continued strong even after Urhu rested her hand, thunder echoed and rain started to pour, yet, as humid as the air was, it was still very hot as well, a fake light shining in the sphere with great intensity. Seihdhara’s hair seemed to brighten with the heat, tongues of flame rising and licking at the humid air about them before settling down, only to be replaced by others. She took a step towards the mouth of the cavern and breathed in the full, earthy aroma. It was strong, suffocatingly so! Rain spattered against her skin and fizzled, instantly becoming steam and emanating from her.

If before life had been nascent, it was now in full, glorious bloom. It moved and turned and fought and struggled, and Seihdhara found the sensation exciting and erotic all at once. It moved something within her, caused her heart to leap and her fingers to stir, filled her with an impossible urgency that told her do! It did not quite matter what, only that action was needed. But it was an overpowering sensation, so great that it crippled her utterly and she could do nothing but helplessly watch, glorying in it and crying out in anger at her inability to act. She could have thrown Urhu over her shoulder and gone running madly in the sun and rain, but she felt that she had done that before (was it yesterday?) and did not want Urhu to think her crazy. So instead she turned back around laughing giddily once again and swept her up as she had done before, spinning her until she felt she could go no more (and by all things, she could keep going!) and then set her down. Almost immediately the saffron-haired goddess stumbled about, laughed, then fell on her bottom. ‘I can’t feel my head. Rhu-rhu, that picture you just painted on the plain is…’ but she could not find the words for the impossible urgency and excitement rattling about inside her chest, and she left it at that. Her head still spinning, she allowed herself to fall on her back and just breathe it all in.

Urhu blinked at that, her skin still warm where the burning goddess had touched her, she was worried about Seihdhara, after all, she had just been reborn, she wondered if the effect of change on her sphere could be causing her trouble. She gently sat down on the ground facing the goddess. “Do you want to me to stop? You are looking tired, maybe you still need to sleep off that hangover from yesterday.” the wanderer said, worried. Almost immediately Seihdhara’s eyes shot open and she sat up, looking at Urhu like a wounded puppy.
‘Stop? No! Rhu-rhu, this…’ she looked at the world beyond the cavern outside, exploding with life and vigour, ‘this is the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt. It’s a bit… overwhelming. But in a good way. I want to feel like this forever!’ She took Urhu’s hand and stood up, helping the other goddess to her feet also and leading her to the mouth of the cavern where they could both watch and feel. ‘Do you feel that? Throbbing so urgently, pounding like it could never stop, like nothing could ever make it stop. It’s so… so full. And it’s growing. It’s overwhelming. It’s a… call to action.’ She turned back to Urhu, her eyes glistening with tears, ‘let’s keep going.’

The goddess took a deep breath, nodding to Seihdhara, she was not great at reading the feelings of others, sometimes she even feared the conclusions she took from that. Raising her hand again, she made it so the change in the sphere continued to go forward, mountains breaking from the soil, new coastlines forming, winds carried the summer heat away, and slowly, Seihdhara’s hair started to disappear among the leaves that mimicked it, the world of green slowly becoming a world of red, yellow and brown. Seihdhara watched as her hair wafted from the mouth of the cavern and bits of red tore away and flew into the great open sky, eventually settling on leaves, some were burned - becoming brown - others took on the light and shone - becoming yellow - others took the strand complete, becoming a brilliant sunset orange. Here and there some trees exploded in purple glory, others maroon.

As Seihdhara watched, her breath caught in her throat and she sat down, bringing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms about them. She watched wide-eyed the incredible tapestry bursting out before them. She looked up at Urhu, who was staring into the distance, and the saffron-haired goddess was filled with awe and admiration for her sister. She shuffled slightly towards her and leaned her head against her sister’s thigh. And she watched the prettiest colours the new universe had ever seen.

Urhu blinked as she felt Seihdhara resting against her leg, it seemed she had suddenly become far less hyperactive, she wondered if seasons really changed people’s mood like that, nevertheless, her focus now was entirely on the work, just one season was left and then the Purlieu would be complete. The mountains that had just recently risen started to crash down back onto the ground, the sphere was now in a constant state of change, landscapes and forests shifting like very slow waves. The cold intensified and snow started to fall from the sky as the last leaves from the trees disappeared, covering the land in a mantle of white. The white blanket encompassed all, and the skeletal trees stood like so many gnarled fingers across the great landscape. The skies were grey, the earth was white, the trees were black, and darkness beset the world. Seihdhara shivered and a great cloud of air left her mouth. Her hair wrapped around her more tightly, and it wrapped about Urhu also, bringing her down beside her.

Strands extended outwards towards the trees and gathered hardened deadwood and brought it before the two goddesses. There the goddess piled it up and set it aflame so that a great fire rose up before them. Every now and again a strand would return and place a log or a twig into the flame, or another would dive into the tongues of fire to move a burning log this way or that. Against the winds and cold and blizzarding snows, the fire and Seihdhara’s hair provided warmth and safety. ‘It…’ Seihdhara mumbled, ‘reminds me of home.’ She looked over at Urhu, her eyes lost in thought. ‘It was always cold, and my pa always kept a fire going. We’d sit around it, all wrapped up in blankets. And pa would sit in his…’ her face fell and a single tear rolled down her face.

Urhu smiled, moving a bit closer to Seihd, rising her hand up to take that tear away. “I am glad that this reminds you of your home, I am also very happy that you enjoyed the seasons so much.” she looked to the horizon where white and black met in a contrasting clash. “Though as important as what was, is what is now. I know new memories do not replace old ones and neither am I proposing that, but, the expression you are making worry me, I much prefer the Seihd who lives here and now.” Seihdhara looked at Urhu, appreciative of her wiping away the tear. She listened attentively to the words and was silent when they were said. She looked out at the great snowy expanse and released a long sigh that manifested in a tremendous cloud of vapour.

Urhu was right. She had allowed the past to constrain her, allowed the unkindness of the other gods to make her more guarded. She remembered the innocent liberty of her youth, the bliss and laughter, the pleasures sought without hesitation or doubt. She had been sat like this on a snowy night when one of the grizzlies came to her and lit a fire and sat by her. She turned to Urhu, a light in her eyes, as she had turned to him then. ‘No, old memories can’t be replaced. But why not try?’ and with no further explanation, she leaned in and placed her lips against Urhu’s cheek. She lingered there for a few moments before setting her head on her other’s shoulder and closing her eyes. ‘This was good. Seasons you called them. They are lovely. It is good that you made them Rhu. They will make the world so pretty. They have already made your sphere so much prettier too.’ And with that she stared out at the wintry landscape and was silent, feeling her sister by her and all the spiritual warmth and safety she exuded, the warmth of the fire that kept the cold at bay, and the frozen coolness of winter beyond. They had done it.

The wanderer looked to her side and gently caressed the side of her sister’s face, smiling. “It feels nice. I always wanted to do something to my sphere, to act more like a goddess, so it was bothersome that I had yet to do something to leave my mark in this world. Now that I have, it feels like I let off from a weight, I feel at rest.” The saffron-haired goddess only smiled at these words.
‘You are an overthinker Rhu-rhu. You have so much to give - look at all this! It’s breathtaking - but you seem so full of doubt and hesitation. You shouldn’t be afraid to let go, to dance amongst the flowers and kiss the trees and whisper to the winds. Tell me - what are you so afraid of?’ and here Seihdhara lifted her head and turned fully towards Urhu, her hair stilled wrapped snugly about the both of them.

“Well… I would not say I… It's not so much being afraid, I do not find the will to do it, sometimes I just prefer to watch from afar, without, you know, creating bonds to these things. It's simpler that way.” Seihdhara cocked her head at these words.
‘I think it’s a good thing, to be able to sit back and watch from afar. A person can learn a lot, see a lot. But it takes courage to find the will and create. It takes courage to stop observing and decide to bare a bit of yourself to the world. In every creation, you reveal parts of your soul that are not visible - not even to Cat-head! That takes courage. And your soul is so beautiful that it would be a damned shame if you only watched, Rhu.’ Seihdhara stared at Urhu with adoration as she spoke, like a worshiper sat at the altar declaring all the love and admiration she could muster for her goddess. ‘Without this one creation I would not be so happy. Imagine how much happier so many others will be made by it. Imagine how much more joy you will bring into the world if you mustered the will! Imagine how much more joyous you will be.’

The wanderer leaned back a bit, as Seihdhara approached her with such intense stare and words. “W-Well! It is not like I plan on doing nothing… Ah… Well, you are right, and yet… No, forget it. I understand your words. Though you have nothing to worry about, I won’t ever fear doing what I feel must be done…” she wondered if that was true, if she knew what her intervention on the second sun would do to Seihdhara, would she still do it? She looked back at Seihdhara, just now noticing how close she was. The saffron-haired goddess was smiling slightly at Urhu’s words, but she could also see that she was conflicted. Smirking, mischief entering her eyes, she tightened her hair about her sister and got even closer.
‘Well Rhu, you’re going to have to forgive me but I’m about to do something that must be done. And it’ll no doubt cause you some trouble, but sacrifices must be made!’ And grinning widely she leapt from her place and pinned Urhu to her back. Seihdhara brought her hands either side of the smaller goddess’ head on the ground and looked down at her, biting her lip. ‘When the snow came we had to keep each other warm in the woods. We’d snuggle up together nice and warm, and we’d tell each other stories and play the flute, and then… then we’d…’ and she lowered her head towards that of the other goddess.

Outside the wind howled and the snows fell and darkness encompassed the Purlieu. But in the cave there was only warmth.

These plains were not so bad, Narzhak had to admit. They were quiet, mostly empty save for a few rock worm stragglers, and, it had to be said, perfectly dull, but that was not the good part. The good part, he thought to himself, was not what they were, but what they could be. That slope there would make an excellent spot to stage a downhill charge, and the shallow vale below it could be reinforced to bog it down into a grueling carnage. That lone hill? A prime place for a sentry. Even better if someone put something taller to stand on there. Not everyone, after all, had as grandiose a countenance as him!

The only preoccupation that came to trouble him time and again as he followed the great river downstream was that those marvellous visions were, for now and the nearest future, just that. There was no assaillant force to bear down the slope, no grim defender to hunker in the valley, nor even any sentry to lay claim to the hill. All that surrounded him were worms and fish, and those would make for poor opponents indeed. He considered bringing up some of his rambunctious scions from the Pit, but, with what wisdom he had, decided against it. Without a proper foe to point them at, they would not think of anything better than to start tearing each other to pieces again.

What then? Now that the fancy of battle had taken him, Narzhak felt the gnawing of impatience. Sitting and waiting for something new to wander by would not do, but nor was he quite sure he could go and conjure something alien to this grassy landscape on the spot.

Unless I… His eye fell on a handful of scattered boulders by the riverbank which had evidently eluded the worms’ appetite. There it was. Making warriors specially for a battlefield took time and effort, but making them out of the field itself? That was sure to be faster.

He picked up one of the rocks and ran the tip of a leviathan finger around it. Where it passed, stone cracked and fell away, as if to reveal something that had always been there. Fury flowed into the boulder, and with it life. Its hard surface melted into a bristly earthen flank, pulsing with ragged breaths and a primal savagery its crumbling prison struggled to keep enclosed. More of it fell to reveal a stamping hoof, then a flaring, tusked snout, then a pair of dim porcine eyes. Soon, nothing remained of the smooth grey block the god had first lifted, and he set the huffing beast down at its feet.

A slight prod was all it took to send it charging. The animal threw itself headfirst against a second boulder, shattering it like a mouldy log. Even as it turned to rush at a third one, the shards and splinters grew prodigiously, sprouting fur and teeth, tails and legs. By the time the exhausted firstborn, having finished the last of its stony nemeses, trotted towards the river to refresh itself, the vast herd of dire boars had scattered out of sight, leaving trails of stamped, uprooted grass and echoes of angry squeals in its wake.

”That’s a start.” Narzhak nodded satisfiedly as his gaze followed his new, destructive gifts to Galbar. The large hog seemed to grunt in agreement and dipped its snout into the water, which quickly turned from clean to torbid and muddy.

Suddenly the clouds to the west parted as a blurry being shot through them. The meteoric figure blasted downward and into the river, but strangely enough there was no splash upon entry, and nigh a sprinkle on exit. The figure stopped instantaneously, the blur turning into a monochromic woman bearing both a wide smile and a fish topped spear.

God and boar turned as one to face the newcomer. ”What’s this?” Narzhak rumbled, raising a finger that dwarfed the nearby hills, ”I’m quite sure I haven’t seen you before. And” one of his eyes narrowed as it glanced at her weapon, ”why is that made with a bone?”

Hermes looked up at Narzhak, half the fish between her teeth. Slowly the woman unclenched the fish from her toothy grasp and looked the God up and down, “I don’t know, but I like it.”

The Iron God shrugged, slightly shaking the ground under his feet. ”If it works, it works. But stabbing fish isn’t all there is to do with something like that.”

Without so much as a warning, the gigantic finger snapped down, raising an abrupt gust of wind that pushed the woman towards the ground. At once, the boar raised its tusks from the river and rushed towards her as an avalanche of hair and foul temper.

”Catch.”

The surprised Hermes suddenly drew an eager face. With a boom the woman suddenly turned into a flash of white, a puff of cloud barely hanging onto her hair as she curved widely around the boar and suddenly slammed into its side. Her arms wrapped around the pig in an embrace, with her fists holding the spear in such a way as to lock the hug, “I caught-”

Her voice was drowned out by the irate hog’s grunting as it thrashed and spun in circles, futilely trying to dislodge the persistent clasp. It finally could think of no better way than dropping to a side, propelling its considerable bulk into a roll and soliciting a yelp from Hermes, the woman quickly letting go. The mortal zipped back to where she had accidentally lost her fish and scooped it up. An anxious Poppler circling her with concerned pops and crackles.

“I don’t think he liked it,” Hermes brushed some dirt off her half eaten fish and began to pick at its shredded pink flesh, clearly doing her best to ignore the purple bruise marks that were starting to appear on her arms.

”On the contrary, he’s not done yet.” Narzhak replied, holding back the angrily huffing boar with a pillar-like fingertip. Odd way to use a spear, he thought, but it did work for a moment. He growled something inarticulate, and the hog stopped pushing, trotting back to the river with an annoyed shake of its head.

”That wasn’t stabbing fish, it’s true, but I think you get it was a bad idea. Chokeholds don’t work with those heavier than you.” The sloppiness of his siblings was almost comical. Who gave someone a decent spear without teaching her to use it? And who was “someone”, anyway?

”Who are you, anyway?” The path between mind and mouth could use a shortcut now and then.

Having worked the fish down to the spine, the nauseated Hermes finally looked up at the Iron God and gave a fishy grin, her cloudling companion resting on top of her head “I’m Hermes.”

”And what’s that?”

Hermes looked up without moving her head, “Poppler?” She pointed at the cloudling, the small puff of cloud popping in response.

Narzhak considered letting the boar loose again, but curiosity won out over irritation. ”No, you. What’s a Hermes?”

“Oh!” Hermes paused in thought, “well it's my name, I'm a Dreamer.”

”Dreamer, ghrm? It shows.” Dreams, sleep… Wasn’t that K’nell? The Iron God did not recall much of him, but if this was a sign of his grasp on the waking world, he was worse off than he had thought. ”If you’re going to stay awake much longer, you’d better learn how to handle that bonestick. When something’s too big to choke, you stab. Go for the eye, or if you’d rather the leg, that works too. The best thing is still to have something heavier to hit with, but lacking that…”

He cast a glance about himself, only to remember that all the heavier things that had been there were now rooting for edible plants some miles away. ”Don’t turn your back on things, either. Most of them will be just waiting for that.”

Hermes furrowed her brow, “but why?”

Narzhak swayed his head, surprised that she even asked such a question. ”That’s how things work. You’re out for yourself, and it’s the same for everyone. You’re fortunate no one had got you yet, probably just because there’s not a lot of us about.” He gestured to the still mostly empty fields. ”It won’t be that way forever, so you’d better learn to be sharp. Hit first when you can, avoid and hit back when you can’t. You’ve got speed and something to strike with, all you need” he tapped one finger against another - ”is the attitude.”

“But,” Hermes seemed confused, “how do I know when to hit?”

”Easy. You always hit.” The god motioned at the boar, who had clearly had enough of the day’s exertions and was lazily sprawled on the grass. ”Like him. That way, you’ll never be wrong.” He paused, then added, ”Unless the other one is plenty bigger than you. Then you wait for an opening.”

“What if they want to be friends?” Hermes pushed, “I’ve only met friends and I don’t want to hit my friends.”

”Friends?” Narzhak scratched his head. She might not have been entirely wrong, but he couldn’t be sure. ”Friends are the ones who hit other people with you. Do your friends and you strike together?”

“I think,” Hermes slowly sat herself down on the ground, waving her hands through the grass, “we have fished together, and we ate food together, and you and I are talking together.”

She paused, “are we friends?”

The scraping stopped for an instant, then resumed. ”Maybe. Eating and talking isn’t enough. Drinking is something else, but the really important part is the hitting one.”

He reached a hand down to the earth, and a glistening metallic stream surged up from the soil. It twisted, ribbonlike, into the colossal palm, which disappeared back up high. When it moved down again, something heavy thumped down before Hermes causing the relatively small human to jump backwards, her hair letting out a stream of concerned pops.

At her feet lay an iron club of simple, though intimidating design. A light haft abruptly widened into a hefty cylindrical head, studded with small, sharp spikes. Unseen by any, but dimly guessed as an unplaceable sense of wrongness, a spirit of joyous slaughter had been forged into it.

”Now we are, or we’ll be when you smash something with this. Then you can be sure of it.”

Hermes finagled a loop in the back of her shirt and slid her spear through safely before leaning down for the club. She hefted it over her shoulder, and despite her stance, her face betrayed nervousness, “Will- uh- will you smash with me?”

The god nodded heavily. ”Anytime.” He shifted a foot, almost imperceptibly to himself, but enough to prod the resting boar’s flank. ”Find us something.”

The hog stood up with almost visible reluctance and trotted off, sniffing the ground. Soon, it had disappeared behind a hill, and not long after that its loud squealing rang out.

With a brief ”Over there” and a single step, Narzhak was over the elevation, where the beast, content with the role it had played, had settled down again. Not far below it, the ground was trembling slightly, betraying a subterranean presence.

The Iron God thrust a finger into the soil, heedless of the clumps of soil sent flying by the considerable impact. For some moments, he seemed to be searching for something with slight movements, only to finally withdraw it with a growl. Stubbornly clinging to its tip by its fearsome jaws was the bulky head of a rock-worm.

“What is that!” Hermes looked on with saucer wide eyes.

”A worm,” Narzhak answered almost nonchalantly, ”Now smash it!”

“I don't think I can eat all of it,” She said while raising her new mace in hesitation.

”What's that about eating?” The god stopped riling the worm for a moment as he glanced at her, ”Leftovers always take care of themselves. What matters is making them stop moving.”

“I guess I did only promise about the fish and if you say it's okay,” She took a few steps forward. Sucking in a breath there was a loud sonic boom as she suddenly turned into a blur, zipping past Narzhak and the worm, a loud ribble of power clapping off the worm as the unseen mace connected.

Tatters of pallid flesh and tubular entrails scattered from the blow like a flock of startled birds, raining onto the grass well beyond the hilltop. A faint, foul smell of burning spread through the air. The creature writhed, its spasms only driving it to clench its teeth further around the iron finger as its underside began to twitch and flail as though animated with a life of its own. As it flailed, shreds of quivering wormflesh breaking loose to expose the gaping wound in its body, what had been its head snapped loose, hideously clinging to the bait as the rest of it spasmed blindly on the ground.

”Good going!” Narzhak rumbled enthusiastically, slamming the still-living worm head into the ground. ”Finish it!”
The blur returned and quickly laid the rest of the worm to rest with a craterous smash. Hermes paused, her shoulders heaving as she sucked in a few breaths, all around her flesh and gravel rained down. She let the mace clutter to the ground before looking up at Narzhak, “does this mean we are friends, now?”

The Iron God flicked the remains of the worm away from his finger. ”Yes.” If there was a mouth behind his helmet, it broke into a savage grin. ”It’s nice, isn’t it?”

Hermes nodded, a slight grin on her face, “I think I like it.”

“Just-” She started, “-what if that worm wanted to be my friend?”

A dismissive wave from an immense hand made the grass quiver under a sudden breeze. ”You didn’t know that, but you did know I wanted to. Always mind which way is the safest.”

“I think I get it,” Hermes nodded before zipping up to Narzhak’s enormous helmeted head. She looked at his cheek -- if it could be so called -- sternly before pressing a finger on the surprisingly warm metal, “and now we are friends.”

The metallic surface quivered, as though it were abruptly melting, and a thin, dull spike drew up and extended from it. It prodded Hermes’ cheek in turn before fusing back into the blank plate.

”We are. Don’t forget the mace.”

Poppler zipped off from a pool that had collected in a crevice in the ground and straight into Hermes’ hair as she hefted the mace back over her shoulder. She gave a wide cheshire smile to her new friend, and Poppler gave a low pop crackle, and then all at once they were gone into a blur.

Heliopolis rose and fell a number of times before Asceal felt the compulsion to stand. Pulling an island up from the depths hadn’t been an easy task, and the dirt she’d lain down on after was shockingly comfortable. When finally stirred from her torpor it wasn’t out of a desire to do so. A tingling in her mind had alerted her to the arrival of another god, one of her siblings, on her island.

Her contented expression soured and she took flight. The shining wings she’d given herself propelled her upwards until the island stretched out below her. From that vantage point she spotted her unexpected guest. A great boat floated on one of the many lakes Asceal had crafted on the island. She didn’t recognize it, but she still breathed a sigh of relief. At the very least it wasn’t Melantha.

The island she soared above was her gift to whatever souls would come to call Galbar home in the days to come. A gift and an apology, really. For now it was all she could do to make up for her failures. The simple thought she might have lost it in another battle with her opposite so soon after its creation had been terrifying.

It was safe though. Now more curious than concerned Asceal descended rapidly, streaking towards the ship. The ornate vessel was richly decorated and sported a golden hull. What was it with the other gods and gold? Her mystery guest seemed to enjoy the substance as much as Aelius did.

Asceal shook her head and focused on the vessel as it grew from a distant speck to a towering divine construct. At the last second, immediately before she would have crashed into the ship, she slowed to a stop and hovered just above the deck. The air she’d displaced buffeted the vessel as she floated down and set foot on the ship.

It was, she realized, a tad more aggressive of an entrance than she’d intended. She looked around sheepishly before spotting a wide-eyed, pale-faced girl on the front of the deck, just underneath the dragon’s head, holding a teapot with both hands. It would seem Asceal had made quite an entrance, as the girl seemed not to be paying attention to the fact that her teacup had already overflowed considerably, too busy basking in the light of the goddess.

“Oh, hello.” Asceal wracked her brain but couldn’t seem to recall having met the girl before. That wasn’t too shocking. Asceal had made Liana a body and it wasn’t beyond imagining that the other gods could have performed similar acts. What caught her off guard though was the distinct trace of divine essence emanating from the girl. It wasn’t a god's essence, not even close, but it was there nonetheless.

Well, stranger or not there was no reason to be rude. Asceal smiled and introduced herself, “I’m Asceal, the Goddess of Light, and this is my island. Would you mind if I asked your name?”

The girl immediately put down her teapot, turned so her body faced the goddess and immediately reached her arms forward, placing her hands on the deck and then her forehead on her hands. As she kowtowed, she spoke, “M-my deepest apologies for intruding upon Your Holiness’ s-sacred grounds! This servant of Yours is named Xiaoli, councillor to the River Lord.” She kept her pose, prostrating herself before the deity.

Asceal’s smile faltered and gave way to a look of confusion. It wasn’t that she minded the compliment, but rather that she was at a loss as to how to speak to someone who was looking at the floor. That hadn’t happened before. She tried to reassure the girl, “There’s no need to apologize Xiaoli. You and anyone else willing to respect this land and the people here are welcome. Now, uh, please stand.”

The girl looked up and blinked. She cleared her throat sheepishly before gracefully getting to her feet and bowing curtly before the goddess.

“Pardon this servant’s perhaps unfamiliar behaviour - this servant understands that certain norms and rules differ between the Lord’s siblings.” She gave the goddess a sweet smile. “This servant of Yours, as well as her master, are deeply honoured to be granted a stay on Your Holiness’ sacred land.” She bowed again.

“Speaking of your, um, master,” Asceal paused and looked around again, “You said he was the lord of rivers? Would I be mistaken to assume this is Shengshi’s home?”

“Your deduction is sound, Your Holiness. This is Jiangzhou, His Lordship’s flagship and palace, open to all children of creation, from His siblings to their subjects.” She bowed again. “Would Your Holiness like me to summon His Lordship for You?” The gift’s lips gently curved into a sweet smile.

The Goddess nodded, “If you would, Xiaoli.”

The girl bowed yet again. “Certainly, Your Holiness. If Your Holiness would excuse this servant for a moment...” The girl proceeded to walk sideways and backwards towards the door - always facing the goddess, before finally turning around once she had moved close enough to the door to the palace, which she promptly entered. All the while Asceal had watched her go, concerned she would trip and fall. By some miracle the girl managed to reach the ship and disappear inside before tumbling, but the act had left the Goddess with a sour impression of the girls master.

There was nothing wrong with respect. Asceal valued politeness, even formality, but what she’d just seen felt to her like the reflection of something far beyond those simple concepts. It looked like submission, and submission born of terror at that. A frown marred the Goddess’s face as she watched the ornate door to the ships interior. She could only hope she was wrong.

After a while, there was a gentle shuffle from behind the door. The hinges sang sharply as the colossal gates swung open to reveal the tall snakeman, his arms raised in amiable welcome and his lips parted with a wide smile. His scales shone like rubies in the light of Heliopolis and Asceal, and his eyes were a magical crystal blue.

“May the Architect cast his most gracious blessing upon Your holy being, my dearest sister.” The snake bowed deeply before the goddess of light. Xiaoli, who stood behind him to his right, once more got down on her knees - however, she did not kowtow all the way as before, seeing as her hands were carrying a small tray with two cups, a strange pot, short and stout, with a handle and a snout, and a slightly larger cup with a small protrusion at the mouth. “Welcome to my humble abode,” the snake said warmly.

“And on you,” Asceal did her best to return Shengshi’s smile as she regarded him. He seemed kind enough, but a mere welcome wasn’t enough to ease her doubts. Not with Xiaoli on her knees. If the girl was paying attention she’d have noticed Asceal’s form had dimmed somewhat compared to their last meeting. Indeed, Xiaoli appeared somewhat curious, regarding Asceal with a slightly elevated brow - however, she did not seem to produce the reaction the goddess perhaps was hoping for and remained kneeling. The snake continued.

“To think that it was your glorious self that brought this exquisite land into existence - my, I certainly could have guessed this was the work of one of my more cultured siblings.” The snake gave the goddess a wink. “I do so hope you do not mind our presence here,” he gestured to the river around the ship, “as well as our little indenture upon your holy soil.”

“As I said to Xiaoli,” Asceal turned to inspect the river the Jiangzhou sailed on, “Any who respect this land and the people on it are welcome here. It is my gift to whatever souls come across it and I do not begrudge you for your addition to it,” She paused and came to face Shengshi once more, “Tell me though, what brought you here? I hadn’t expected guests so soon.”

The snake tapped his chin pensively. “I could not say, for I did not steer the ship here. That honour goes to my dearest advisor.” Shengshi gestured elegantly to the girl, who bowed her head, though her face betrayed a slight discomfort. The snake did not seem to notice.

Asceal looked to the girl, “Oh? Would you mind telling me what led you here Xiaoli? I don’t mean to pry, but I am curious as to how you found this land so quickly.”

The girl’s expression quickly became a warm smile once again. “After my lord requested that we leave Kalgrun, we decided to explore the southwest. While my lord,” she paused for a moment,” rested after considerable strain performing his divine duties, he tasked me with sailing the ship to a tranquil place. Thus, we arrived upon Your Holiness’ island.” She giggled softly. The snake shot her a glance and nodded curtly.

“She is quite the capable one - a truly loyal and faithful companion,” he said with a gentle chuckle.

Asceal wasn’t sure the girl was being entirely truthful, but neither did she suspect Xiaoli was being compelled to lie. The Goddess’s form brightened perceptibly at that. At the very least she didn’t suspect Shengshi was deliberately terrorizing the girl anymore. As for what was happening there, Asceal had no clue. She’d learned a great deal from the lost souls that she followed to this universe, but she would be the first to admit there were gaps in her knowledge.

Her smile became more genuine and she nodded, “It seems so. I hope you have enjoyed your rest here, both of you. I haven’t had the time to sow the land with life yet, so I fear it is rather barren. At least, beyond this river.”

The snake waved his hands curtly. “Oh, do not worry about that. Life will come in time - I suspect our sister Phystene will arrive at some point.” He gestured to Xiaoli, who presented the tray before the two deities. “Would you care for a cup of tea as we talk? This will be my first time serving it to a sibling.” The snake gave her a giddy grin and snapped a low table, some silk pillows and a small, potted bonsai tree into existence. He centred the table on the deck, placed one pillow on each side and put the potted bonsai tree on the table.

“Please, sit,” the snake said and gestured to a pillow.

“It’s a drink, this tea?” Asceal eyed the pot Xiaoli was carrying warily. The girl had been drinking it when Asceal arrived hadn’t she? The Goddess glanced behind her to the small puddle of tea that had gathered on the deck after Xiaoli spilled it earlier. Somewhat reassured Asceal took a seat on one of the pillows and found herself marvelling at how soft it was. And she’d thought the dirt was comfortable? She would be recreating these on the Garden, of that there was no doubt.

The snake coincidentally also noticed the puddle and shot Xiaoli a momentary sharp glare, which the girl noticed, hanging her head. The snake then promptly snapped his fingers. A water globule came zooming out of the doorway at blinding speeds. It slid over to the puddle and licked over it a few times before zooming off again, leaving the floor completely clean once more. The snake then promptly seated himself across from the goddess and gazed across the river. Xiaoli came over with the tray and gracefully placed it down on the table, taking out a small towel which she proceeded to elegantly fold into thirds until had formed a triangle. While she dusted and wiped out the cups with intricate, almost ceremonial movements, the snake let out a soft sigh.

“You know, the beauty of this place reminds me of a poem…”

“A poem?” Asceal asked while watching Xiaoli clean what she had the distinct impression were clean cups.

“Indeed… A short collection of phrases that together form a poetic message greater than the sum of its parts, if you will.” He cleared his throat. “Allow me to perform for a spell…” In two delicate moves, the girl placed one cup down on the table in front of each deity, with Asceal’s being placed first. Meanwhile, the snake spoke.



He smiled. “It is not my finest work, by any means, but one I found suitable for the situation.” Xiaoli poured some boiling water into the teapot without putting in any tea, then waited for a moment.

“It’s still quite pretty,” Asceal remarked as she continued to observe the strangely meticulous way Xiaoli worked, “Much like a song, really. I’m afraid I don’t have anything to offer you in turn Shengshi. Perhaps when this island is complete I’ll have a poem of my own to describe it, but for now I’m at a loss.”

The snake blushed. “My, my, you are much too kind, dearest - oh, and do not feel indebted to me, please. A mere possibility of one day hearing your poem is more than enough for me.” He gave her a gentle smile. Meanwhile, Xiaoli poured the hot water over into first Asceal’s cup, then into Shengshi’s cup. She discarded what water remained before unlidding the pot and carefully plucking some green leaves out of a small pouch and placing them inside the tiny pot. She placed the lid back on the pot and took a small box out from her sleeve. She opened the box and elegantly extracted a small, intricately carved frog figurine, which she placed on the table next to the bonsai tree. The snake lifted a brow.

“Xiaoli, would you explain to our most honourable guest, as well as to your lord, what that is?”

The girl bowed her head forward. “Your Holiness, my lord - this is the product of an idea of mine: I call it a tea spirit.” She picked the frog figure up again and let the deities look at it closer. “I hope that I may one day ward off evil-minded spirits so that gods and mortals may drink tea in peace without disturbance.” She placed the figurine back on the table and looked up with a smile. Shengshi nodded.

“Truly capable, is she not?” he said and grinned at Asceal.

She glanced at Shengshi and met his grin with her own soft smile, “She certainly seems to be.” The Goddess looked down at the figurine and reached out to grasp it before suddenly pulling her arm back. She asked Xiaoli apologetically, “Would you mind?”

The girl giggled softly and instinctively covered her mouth with her sleeve. “Of course not, Your Holiness. Please, look as much as You would like.”

Asceal picked up the little frog statue and turned it around in her hands, appreciating the craftsmanship. She looked up to Xiaoli, “You know, I have a friend who enjoys making sculptures too. Nothing so intricate or purposeful though.” The goddess paused and carefully placed the small icon back on the table. She suppressed a frown before continuing, “You say it’s meant to ward off wicked spirits? Have you encountered such beings?”

The girl giggled. “You are much too kind, Your Holiness. It is by no means that intricate.” Her smile faded at little at the goddess’ question and in two quick, ritualistic movements, she discarded the hot water in both the deities’ cups. “If this servant may clarify, Your Holiness, her use of the phrase ‘evil spirit’ describes a much less tangible phenomenon than it may have implied - it is simply a term this servant likes to use to describe all manner of ill-minded thoughts!” She giggled again and unlidded the teapot, pouring in some warm water in a circular pattern. The snake smiled warmly at her. “The figure carries with it no actual power, but I hope that its presence will be enough to remove any and all animosity or ill intent between two creatures sharing a cup of tea. This servant hopes her explanation was satisfying to Your Holiness.” Then, nearly as promptly as she had poured the water into the tea, she poured the slightly verdant and somewhat golden drink through a filter into the slightly bigger cup. She proceeded to pour Asceal’s cup half-full, before filling her master’s cup with the same amount.

“Please, enjoy.”

“I see,” Asceal intoned thoughtfully as she looked into the tea. She gingerly raised the cup to her glowing lips with two hands and sipped. The liquid seemed to take on shine of its own as it touched her lips and her eyes widened as she drank. She put the cup down and eyed it curiously, “How strange. I realize I’ve never taken the time to taste something before. Is all food and drink so… Energizing?”

The snake lifted a long, black brow and hummed pensively. “I see, you have never had the chance to enjoy the consumable pleasures of life before.” He paused to quietly slurp some tea. “I can confirm that food and drink do provide a certain boost to energy, perhaps, but for us deities it does little in the way of actual merit, as opposed to the mortal beings of this world.” He paused to drink some more. “Naturally, this does provide us with the perk of being able to enjoy as much as we would like for the flavour - which, if I may say so myself, is among the most exquisite pleasures this existence has to offer.” The god snapped his fingers and a water globule came flying out of the door to the palace, balancing a tray of assorted hors d’oeuvres like seaweed crackers, berries and small, sweetened biscuits.

“Would you like some?” the snake said and gestured to the tray just as the water globule sat it down on the table and zoomed off again.

“I would,” Asceal’s gaze fixed on the morsels and she carefully picked up and ate a berry. A wide smile blossomed on her face as she savoured the treat and before she could restrain herself she’d eaten two more. She deliberately rested her hands on the table and looked to Shengshi, “How wonderful! I hadn’t thought food would taste so good. I’ll be sure to tell Aelius of this. Where do these,” She pointed at the berries, “Come from? Are they your creation, Shengshi?”

“Indeed,” said the snake. “These snacks are all the products of my desires for the finer things in existence - part of a much greater selection that I one day intend to share with all of creation.” He threw his arms out to the sides to illustrate his point. Xiaoli giggled softly as she refilled the deities’ cups. “If you would allow it,” the snake continued, “then I shall do everything in my power to plant my river valleys full of shrubs, bushes and trees that sprout all manners of nature’s sweets.” He popped a grape into his mouth and gestured to the river.

The Goddess followed Shengshi’s lead and tried a grape. It was unlike the berries, not nearly as sweet, but it had its own charm to it. Was there even such a thing as an unpleasant flavour? She sipped her tea again and nodded enthusiastically, “I couldn't possibly deny such luxuries to those who come to reside on this land. To think there were so many foods, and all so pleasant! You’re more than welcome to create as many rivers as you’d like so long as you line their banks with these wonderful plants.”

The snake bowed his head in gratitude. “Your praise and blessing are truly heartwarming, dearest sister. I will naturally do everything in my power to ensure the mortals of this land will eat and drink in the river’s bounty.” Xiaoli, meanwhile, was peeling a mango with a gold-bladed, rosewood-handled kitchen knife. “Unfortunately,” Shengshi continued. “Not all the fruits enjoy life right by the river bank…” Xiaoli plated the sliced mango and offered some to the deities. Shengshi impaled a few slices on his claws and popped one into his mouth. He gave Xiaoli a grateful smile, who returned it cordially. He turned back to Asceal. “After all, what reed could support a fruit as juicy as this mango, hmm?”

Mangos, Asceal resolved upon trying one, were her favorite fruit. Her form grew brighter and brighter as she ate the slices one after another. Before long it became difficult to tell where the glow ended and the Goddess began. It was only when she reached for another mango, only to find none remained, that she realized what had been happening and dimmed. Her embarrassed expression made it clear she hadn’t intended to do that. She nervously ran a hand through her shining hair, “Oh dear. I seem to have eaten them all. I’m terribly sorry. It’s just that these mangoes of yours are frighteningly tasty. Tastier than the berries, even,” She looked out to the grassy riverbank and seemingly endless dirt beyond, “Would it be too much for me to ask for one of these plants? I’d love to spread them to the rest of the island.”

The snake chuckled. “I will gladly grant you as many specimens as you can carry, my dearest sister.” He straightened his back and let his feline nostrils examine the air and atmosphere. After a moment, he looked to the north. “My estimate is that the north side - that would be here - of the island would be absolutely perfect for a grove or two. Note, however, that the mango tree is rather heavy and needs sufficient soil and solid ground to grow.” He snapped his fingers and there was a ruckus below. Soon enough, five small globules of water came out the door, each balancing a plated whole mango on their heads, if one could call them that. They placed them down next to the goddess.

“The pits within will suffice as seeds,” the snake said. “If you are able to get in contact with Phystene, I am certain she would be more than happy to counsel you on botany.” Xiaoli filled the teapot with hot water again and waited for a mere few seconds before pouring the water into the large cup, which she then used to refill the deities’ cups.

“I’ll be sure to contact her soon. After all, I wouldn’t want to go too long without having these fruits again,” Asceal laughed happily and sipped her tea. She was having a good time; it was nice to have some escape from the worries that had been plaguing her. She did feel vaguely guilty for misjudging Shengshi, though. The God’s relationship with Xiaoli still puzzled her, but perhaps Asceal didn’t need to know more than she did.

She regarded the pair and smiled. It was deeply reassuring to know that the other gods could be as kind as Aelius and Azura. Especially after all that had happened. Feeling better than she had in a while Asceal asked, “Do you mean to stay here long Shengshi? Xiaoli? The island certainly needs more rivers.”

The snake plucked at his beard thoughtfully. “Indeed. It is quite likely that we will remain for a little while longer. This land yet requires a pinch of the Flow.” He grinned at Asceal. “This will not be the last you see of me, dearest sister.”

Xiaoli let out a quiet sigh. “I go where my lord wishes me to go,” she said, an uncertain smile on her face.

Asceal smiled weakly and gave Xiaoli a look of silent concern before she spoke, “Ah, well you are both welcome guests. I’ll be around of course. That said, I’d like to invite you, either of you, to my home. At the peak of this island's tallest mountain, hidden in the clouds, is the entrance to my Lustrous Garden. I’d love to have you, and I’m sure my friend Liana and Xiaoli would get along.”

Xiaoli grinned from ear to ear, revealing all her colourful river pebble teeth. She immediately covered her mouth with her sleeve, but kept giggling joyously. She looked to Shengshi and asked, “Oh, my lord, may I please go see this Liana? Please, please, please?” The snake raised an eyebrow at the two and ran two clawed fingers along his black beard. He let out a pensive hum, looked once again to Asceal and nodded.

“Very well. Should the opportunity arise, I will grant you leave to see this Liana.” Had she not been sitting on her knees, the girl would likely have jumped with joy. Instead, she threw her arms into the air in an uncharacteristically sudden burst of bubbly happiness. The snake gave her a strict glare and the girl swiftly regained her composure. She bowed to the goddess.

“Your Holiness, Your invitation is most humbling. This servant would be beyond honoured to visit.” The snake hummed in approval. “I will, too, come the opportunity,” he said.

“Excellent!” Asceal nodded and her smile widened, “I’m certain Liana will appreciate the company, as will I,” The Goddess looked over her shoulder at the state of her island and deflated a little, “I should see to the island first, though. I’ve enjoyed this, and you have my thanks for the introduction to these wonderful ‘mangos’, but I think it’s time I finish what I started.”

The snake nodded and stood up, bowing deeply before the goddess. “It was an absolute joy to have you over, dearest sister. Please, do come for dinner one time - the drinks served there are perhaps a little more interesting to the soul.” He winked. Xiaoli huffed and gave him a disapproving scowl.

“I hope we will see eachother again sooner rather than later,” the snake said warmly. “I wish you the best of luck with your mission. There may be a few more rivers around by the time you return, I predict.” He waved as the goddess flew off and looked at Xiaoli.

“You did well today, Xiaoli; however, your stance was off when you poured tea. That is alright in front of me - not in front of guests.” The girl huffed and looked down. “I will work to better myself, my lord,” she said. The snake nodded.

“You will have to if you want me to grant you leave.”

This purpose was easier than Kirron had imagined. From the top of a mountain on the eastern edge of his continent, he had a commanding view of distant changes to the landscape. Already, his siblings had been drawn to his whim-borne landmass and they had certainly made something of it. He could not even see all they had wrought; there was undoubtedly more surprises beyond the horizon, over the top of Shengshi's barrier mountain range.

He stepped his way down the slopes. It was easier than making his way up from the other direction; haphazardly following the flows of Fengshui Fuyou out to their ultimate destination had brought Kirron back to the fjord-like inlets and streams of the east coast by sheer coincidence. His boat had been dashed against the earth in a white-water portion, though it was no matter to him.

Kirron's walking and leaping brought him to an oddly green meadow. A hodgepodge of trees jutted out of silky grasses that sprung in clumps from freshly ground soil. Laced through the wind was the sound of beautiful noises. Noises that were perhaps too discordant in their abundance to be called songs, but Kirron was drawn to the source all the same. He stopped and rested his fists on his hips at what he found: Flocks of squat, curved-beaked little birds, flying here and there or otherwise waddling about the ground scratching for seeds.

"Little mortal things! Who are you?!" Kirron asked with a fascinated grin.

The birds took flight. Most calmed back to the ground, but a number approached and circled the god. "We are gemstone gardeners, stranger!"

"'Gemstone gardners.' What a mouthful. What are you doing here?"

"We are gardening, stranger! We spread the plants you see. Our mother Azura told us to!"

"Hah! Sounds good to me. Keep at it!" Kirron raise his arms and every bird felt a knocking in their little chests. Their happy songs quickly grew to excitement as they flew and sowed with renewed vigor. Kirron laughed his big bellowing laugh.

Kirron walked amongst the energised parrots like new friends. "My name is Kirron, I am the god of blood. It's been a while since I've been on this rock, so what can all you tell me about what I've missed?"

---

The news was easily relayed from the gossiping network of birds. All the happenings on the land were big and lasting, from fights between gods, to mountains raised and a giant clad in iron wandering about. Kirron could not be happier enjoying the tales from the simple creatures. While their lives were comparatively mundane to the scope of godhood, their objective gave them a refreshing passion.

But there was one anomaly that caught Kirron's eye. One of the gardeners -- a bulkier one with jet black feathers wandered around with a sadness, like it had lost something. It fluttered up to a low branch and let out a sigh.

Kirron clomped his heavy feet up to the tiny creature fast enough to startle its crest up.

"Why aren't you flying with the others, little gardener? You sick or something?"

"Oh!" The bird shrank in fear. "Uh, excuse me, god of blood. I'm not sick. I just don't much feel like flying right now."

Kirron knelt down to the onyx bird's eye level. "Why?" he demanded.

The bird glanced this way and that. "It's...embarrassing, god of blood. I cannot sing like the others, and my feathers are not as pretty when I dance. They're like a shadow with just a flash of red in my tail. I may as well not be there at all."

"So, what? You're afraid of a little performance?"

"It is a matter that I do not think I can perform at all, Kirron." The bird was not sure Kirron's triangular teeth were improving its anxiety.

"And what do you do all day, gardener?" Kirron asked.

"Um...I do this!" The bird spread its wings, bent down, and tore a large clump of wood from the branch below with such ease that it seemed rotten. But the wood was green and fresh. "Wood, stone, I cut it to pieces so more can grow!"

Kirron grinned a knowing grin.

The bird grabbed the clump of wood from its beak with one foot. "What is making you smile, Kirron?"

"I do that all the time, little bird. Watch." Kirron picked up a large stone from beside him, placed it between his teeth, and chomped down. Shards of stone flew in all directions. Kirron swallowed down what stayed in his mouth and pointed at the bird. "I still get all the attention I want. You've seen how I sing, right?"

The bird, suddenly fascinated, leant forward curiously. "You sing? But you only speak really loud."

"Have you tried talking really loud? Do it now." Kirron beckoned the bird. "Let me hear it! Shout as loud as you can!"

The bird spread its wings. "Squee..."

"Louder!"

"Areeee!"

"More! Put your throat into it."

The bird lifted its crest and let out a wheezing "ARAAAAAAAGH!"

All the other birds stopped their songs for a moment to look and smile at their black-feathered friend.

The little bird swelled up with pride and stuck its head out again. "ARAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" It shouted so loud its cheeks flushed a bright red.

Kirron threw back his head and laughed triumph. "That's better! Now go! Dance with your strength! Sing with your voice! And teach your friends what you learnt here today!"

"At once, Kirron! Thank you so much!" The bird leapt and took off to tell his friends.

The other birds looked with wonder at their friend the onyx cockatoo as he flew, marvelling at the new streaks of red colouring it in just the right way.

Arae did want to stay with Seihdhara and continue to support her, but she had done all she could. She had realized that her current system of Familial Trees and Lakes within her Sphere was not enough. It kept track of families well enough, but it needed more. Much more. It needed constant supervision, a way to alert Arae, and possibly even a way for a problem to be resolved without her interference. The main issue, though, was figuring out a way to maintain it. Arae had to be in her sphere in order to oversee the system and gather the information from it, but it would be pointless if that were so. After all, she still needed to head out in order to oversee her various family members and fix the various disputes they were already creating with each other. It wasn't like she could be in two places at once... or could she?

An idea began to form in Arae's mind, and she rushed off back to her Gateway as fast as she could. There were some events happening around her that she paid little attention to, such as an explosion or two in the sky, or the continents that she swore were actually moving. All that was important at the moment was the system she was about to put into place.

A dip into the Dragon's Crown and reemergence from the Pantheon familial lake later, Arae took a look at the Pantheon trees. Some of the trees were undoubtedly flourishing, some seemed to remain unchanged, and others had varying degrees of damage. All of this had happened before she even realized, which made it all the more imperative to her to set something up to fix that.

First came the base. Arae looked around, wondering what she would use to make it. Her eyes eventually settled on her Familial Tree and she decided that nothing else could be better. Carefully going through each branch, she selected the thickest one that had the most leaves and carefully snapped it off, making sure to reduce as much damage as possible to both the tree and branch. She began to do this with every Familial Tree within the Pantheon, and gathered them all together. She even scooped a handful of the lake water, just for good measure. With her materials ready, she began to mold. The branches began to glow and swirl in the air, specks of her essence flowing out of her into the mixture that formed itself into a sphere. Her hands pushed and pulled on it as it began to take the form she had pictured in her mind, plus more.

A humanoid figure stood before Arae, with an thin and elegant white dress, as well as a delicate white crown. She had pointed ears, silver eyes, and long dark gray hair. The figure blinked, and then said, "So that's how it feels to be created. Interesting." Looking up at Arae, she continued, "How may I be of service, my lady?"

"I need you to watch over my Sphere," Arae answered. "Maintain the health of the trees and lakes, and report to me if any problems cannot be solved within the Sphere."

"Very well, my lady," the figure answered.

"Also, I will need to give you a name," Arae added. "You shall be known as... Serenis."

"So it shall be, my lady," Serenis replied.

Arae gave Serenis a final examination and decided that she would be satisfactory for now. Arae then began to ask, "Serenis, what are the current relations between the gods?"

Serenis' eyes began to glow white as she looked up the information. They continued to glow for several seconds before finally fading, and Serenis answered, "Overall, most connections are either neutral or bordering on friendly at the very most. Many of the gods seem to have not interacted with anyone, at least not long enough to establish any sort of meaningful relationship. A few, though, such as Shengshi, the God of Rivers, and Chopstick Eyes, the Goddess of Markets, have multiple friendly connections made. As for the unfriendly connections, there is one god in particular, Orvus, the God of Desolation, who has garnered the displeasure of at least three of the others: Kalmar, the God of Hunting, Phystene, the Goddess of Plants, and Ashalla, the Goddess of Oceans. If my logic is sound, then I would conclude that these gods of nature do not approve of the god whose purpose is to destroy."

"Beyond what I have reported, there is nothing significant enough to warrant your attention, my lady," Serenis concluded.

"Orvus..." Arae said slowly, trying to recall who he was. her mind flashed back to the Architect's Hall, with a dark figure who seemed to have not enjoyed the events as much as the others. Arae was full of concern, briefly wondering why she had been so blind to not notice, but Arae soon cleared her mind of such thoughts and replaced them with her determination. She was going to keep her family together, and would not spare any effort in doing so.

"Thank you, Serenis. You have been a great help," Arae thanked Serenis. "Of course, my lady."

Arae then began to send Orvus a divine message, "Hello, Orvus. My name is Arae. May I have some of your time? We need to chat." Then, without waiting for a response, Arae launched herself back into the Pantheon lake, passing through the Gateway and back into Galbar, where she would hopefully find Orvus.

Arae’s voice was but a whisper in Orvus’ head, and one he barely believed to be real at first. His mind was clouded down by a great weight, it was hard to actually think about anything, other then ways to simply not exist. But Arae was a familiar name, one he vaguely knew to be more then some falsity. Thus he listened, and his foggy mind began to spin about and focus on what she was asking. She wanted his time? For a chat?

Orvus did not move from under his tree as he began to send her his own message. It was simple, and yet profound. Nothing words could convey, but feelings. An intense wave of anger, malice, and dread would wash over her for the briefest of seconds before vanishing into bone numbing sadness as it ended. For Orvus did not want to talk, nor did he want to do anything. He simply wanted to be alone in the quiet, where his thoughts might devour him whole.

As Arae emerged from the Dragon’s Crown, a plethora of negative emotions struck her mind as Orvus’ message reached her. She recoiled from the initial shock, but soon recovered, her mind filled with even more worry than before. Was Orvus… rejecting her? This would not do. She had to reach Orvus. Fortunately, Arae still had his familial bond to follow, so he was not difficult to track down.

What she had found, though, was rather unsettling. Arae had found the Gateway to Orvus’ sphere, but what encompassed it was a rather massive whirlpool and storm. It would be unpleasant to go through, but it would not stop Arae. She made the plunge into the center of the storm, passing through the Maelstrom.

Arae finally emerged into Veradax, seeing the land of eternal twilight for the first time. Normally, Arae would be glad about visiting a godly sibling’s Sphere, but this was not such a pleasant time. Veradax was also certainly not a cheerful place, and Arae had little time for such thoughts. Continuing to follow the familial bond, it was not long before she found Orvus himself. “Orvus,” Arae said as she landed close by, her voice full of concern. “What troubles you? Please, talk to me.”

This time the voice was far more present in his mind, oozing with concern and disturbing his quiet. It had seemed his warning to Arae had gone unnoticed, or rather, ignored. Mentally he reached out to feed her more images, but he abruptly stopped when her presence was far closer then he could have ever imagined. She was on Veradax, and right before him.

Slowly his eyes began to glow white, refocusing his vision so that he might see. For though Orvus would never sleep again, his eyes had been shut and blinded to the world before him. Now they looked with crystal clarity at the Goddess before him. He began to stand, placing a hand upon the Mar Tree as he did, without ever looking away from Arae. His eyes expressed an emptiness, devoid of any feeling.

When he spoke, his voice was as equally unemotional, ”Why are you here? Was my message not clear? Must my quiet be interrupted by the likes of you?” he finished, and though his voice was flat, there was a certain spite that followed. He looked to Arae expectantly.

“Of course I got your message, that’s why I’m here,” Arae said. “You are part of my family, and as a family member, I cannot ignore you. Three of our siblings, Ashalla, Kalmar, and Phystene, have developed unfriendly relationships to you, perhaps to the point of forming a whole alliance against you. I cannot aid you, though, without at least hearing your side of the story.”

Orvus listened to the dragon talk of family, siblings, alliances… At least his suspicions were correct, others were coming together to plot against him, as they should. It was a natural occurrence that the weak unite against the strong and dangerous. But Arae did not know all, it seemed. She wished to know his story and if that meant she would leave, he would gladly tell it.

Orvus sighed softly, his eyes now expressing sadness. His voice remained much the same however. ”Your information is partially true. There is another that already…” he paused as the memories resurfaced, ”You forgot K’nell.” Orvus sat down then and placed his hands underneath his chin as he looked at Arae once again.

”You have fooled yourself into believing that you might bring some sort of assistance to me, Arae. Though I cannot speak for Kalmar, Phystene and Ashalla have every reason to hate and despise me. Did you know I defiled Ashalla’s realm with monsters? Or that I attacked Phystene for creating life that I may never touch? Or that I had the audacity to dream, only for it to be crushed before my own eyes?” Orvus paused again, letting his words sink in.

”So no,” he continued, ”I don’t believe you would have ever aided me, willingly or not. As it goes with families, there will always be favorites, and then those who are less desirable. Am I not right? Surely you cannot think us all equally? So tell me, which do you think I fall under, sister? A favorite, or a monster?” he asked quietly.

Arae listened to it all. The story of Orvus was not a happy one, but it was one that needed to be heard. When Orvus was done, a tear shed from Arae’s eye, falling onto the ground. She heard enough. “You are the one fooling yourself if you believe you are less equal or less important than anyone else,” Arae retorted, a tinge of sadness and anger in her voice. “You may have wronged our siblings, yes, but they have also wronged you. Just as they have been given their roles by the Architect, you have been given your role as the God of Desolation. You perform a duty that is just as important as theirs. While they create, you destroy, thus maintaining the balance between the two sides. It is a necessary evil that must be filled, whether our siblings like it or not. So don’t put yourself down like this, Orvus. You deserve a chance.”

He listened to Arae speak, heard the anger and sadness in her own voice and sat silently, contemplating it all. She truly believed they were all equal, that their roles defined what they really were. And there it was again, the age old question that wouldn’t leave him alone. Create, or destroy? Worded like that was the only thing he would ever be capable of. Did she really think he wanted to destroy, or to maintain some balance decreed by the one who brought him here unwillingly?

No, Arae simply viewed things differently from his own perspective. She was blissfully unaware, almost childlike in her belief of family and roles. Thus, Orvus pitied her. He realized she would never be able to take sides, and she would suffer far more greatly then any of them when the fighting and conflict came. That was her role, to keep peace for all time and Orvus knew, it would break her eventually.

When he spoke, his voice was somber, ”K’nell showed me something in my dream, a possibility. I was a farmer, a mortal with a family and friends. A wife, children to call my own. And do you know what I did? I accepted it as my own reality as he forced memories of that possibility into my head, blocking out what I truly am. I had a life. I was happy and I knew what love was. And do you know what he did? He made me remember that it wasn’t real. That Rowan, Ava and Lily, weren’t real. Then he told me I had a choice. Creation, or destruction. And I awoke, wanting nothing more then to be with them in that false reality. He should have left me there, honestly.” his voice fell silent and he looked away to the floor.

He began to speak again but softly, ”I promised Phystene that we would die together, that’s why I was punished, because K’nell sees everything. But I realized something today, that would hurt you wouldn’t it? Probably far worse than either of us could inflict upon one another. For that, I am sorry.” he sighed once more, ”I didn’t want this, any of this, Arae. This existence. This constant torture. All I ever wanted was to fade away in the quiet of my birth. I tried to create, I did, but we all saw how that ended. So I came to the conclusion that I am meant to create things that destroy. Look at the monument before you. Do you know what it will do? It’s purpose is to fray souls, to bring about depravity. Soon enough it will.” his voice faded and he stood once more to face Arae within the shadow of the valley.

”Any chance I had, died when I entered this universe. I am evil, I am to be hated and despised, and I am unlovable. And I have embraced this. Now you know my story. So I shall tell you this: leave me alone in my grief of what never was. For it is better this way.” he finished with sadness in his voice.

Arae did not want to leave Orvus, but she wasn’t sure how she could help him at the moment. Her words would not reach him, and he would not reach out. She sighed in defeat, believing she should not push the issue now. It was time to go and let Orvus have some time to himself. Perhaps time was the only thing that could help him now. As she turned to leave Veradax, she muttered under her breath, almost inaudible even to herself, “You are not the only one to know suffering.” Then she took off, leaving Orvus to himself. The teardrop left by Arae on the ground continued to glitter softly under the dim twilight.