The world was pins as it stretched past Hermes. Her sandals fluttered, but any sounds were long behind her as she continued her journey, Poppler in hair and spear on her back. Her eyelids were slightly pink, having just woken up not long ago, a big smile conquering her face as it usually did after a meeting with her God.

Suddenly her eyes flickered downward and at an impossibly quick angle, her direction changed. Ashalla’s blue stretched around her vision, but a unique and new color centered in her vision: gold. In mere seconds the figure of a golden boat emerged, and a second more, she was standing on top of it. Her sandals padded softly as she walked across the deck of what was a marvelously massive boat fitted with thousands of decorations and engravings. There was also the strong smell of herbal teas and extracts to greet her, and despite not knowing exactly what those were, she thought it smelt a lot like one of the Tendlepog meadows after a warm rain.

The boat seemed abandoned at the moment, with the only indicator of life being some distant ruckus under deck. There was evidence of recent activity on deck, with a few footprints and some strange peels littering the immediate area around a small table, which itself had some crumbs and leftovers on it. However, shortly after Hermes’ arrival, the ruckus below was complemented, or perhaps contrasted, by a sweet, gentle tune coming from the spires above - specifically the very top of the middle spire.

Kalmar isn’t gonna be too happy about this, Hermes thought to herself as she stared at the left overs and rinds. With one quick motion she swiped up a handful and shoved it into her mouth; she was nothing if not a helper. While munching on her compostable snack she decided to see what the pretty noise was all about and launched herself to the top of the middle spire in single wink.

As Hermes landed on the ornate, gilded veranda of the top floor, the music stopped. There was a pause, followed by a strange, elongated shuffling noise, as if the planks on the floor inside were being sanded with exquisitely fine sandpaper. Then, slowly, the white-papered, rosewood-reinforced slider doors slid apart in a gentle motion. The agitator of the doors set a pair of silver serpentine eyes upon the mortal and flicked its forked tongue. There was a soft, pensive hum in a voice that could grease chariot axles.

“My… Another visitor?” said the snake with an ever-widening grin.

Hermes studied the snake man, swallowing her gritty snack and flashing a cheshire smile to match her new acquaintances’ when suddenly she remembered Narzhak's sage words. Her grin turned sour and she hefted her club over her shoulder.

“Friend or foe?” She asked sternly, her voice nonetheless betraying her gregarious nature.

“Rather direct, aren't we,” the snake said, surprised. “Who are you?” He eyed the club. He sniffed the air around Hermes and lashed around with his tongue. “... mortal...“ He let out a ponderous hum as he let his eyes scan every detail of the woman.

“Are you a gift, by chance?”

“I'm Hermes,” The dreamer answered, confused. Poppler zipped out of her hair and spun around her head, “and this is Poppler.”

”Zzt!”

The snake craned his head and folded his hands softly. He leant closer. “My, my… The first mortal guest in my home. This warrants a toast!” The snake slithered into his room. Meanwhile, a young girl turned the corner of the wall and gave Hermes a smile. She silently stepped a little closer and carefully reached out to pat Poppler.

“What an adorable little thing…” she said.

Poppler whizzed around the woman while Hermes watched on perplexed, her eyes flickering between where the snake man was and where the new girl is. She wasn’t used to this, two people at once, and while she normally would be quite excited about it, there was a new pit of anxiety in her stomach. Her brow furrowed, pinching the spiral on her forehead.

“Who are you?” She suddenly asked the newcomer.

The girl stopped fruitlessly chasing the little clump of clouds and regained her formal composure. She bowed before Hermes, albeit not too deeply, and smiled as she rose up.

“Forgive me. I should have introduced myself first, perhaps. I am Xiaoli, First Counsellor to Shengshi. You were… Hermes, correct? What are you doing here?” Xiaoli asked sweetly.

“Experiencing,” Hermes said slowly and admittedly cryptically, “What are you doing here?”

The girl nodded, humming affirmatively. “I serve my lord as he wishes. So you are a traveler, then.” She grinned from ear to ear, making sure to hide the grin behind her sleeve before too many of her colourful teeth showed. “Can you tell me about the places you’ve been?” she asked almost desperately, completely ignoring Hermes’ second question.

“I don’t know,” Hermes brow furrowed, “are we friends?”

The girl looked to the side, then up and down Hermes’ admittedly much taller and developed form, and then shyly down at her own feet, which she shuffled nervously. After a quick moment, she glanced back up at Hermes.

“... I… I do hope we are,” she said warily, blinking once or twice.

Hermes stared at the girl with increasing intensity, her knuckles straining as her fists tightened around her club, and then all at once her shoulders relaxed and she let out a happy sigh through a wide smile, “oh good, because Narzhak was telling me that there are friends and foes and nothing else and to be honest I want to make more friends than I do foes, I mean I’ve only smashed one thing and while I liked it, I feel really bad because I don’t know what the worm did to deserve a smashing but it got it, and I didn’t even eat it because Narzhak said it was okay, but don’t tell Kalmar because I made a promise, but to be truthful the promise was just about fish and not about worms, but still I don’t want to upset him, I like him a lot, he is my friend too...”

Her words were endless as all the happy things that she had wanted to say exited her mouth without ending, her mind racing with new things to share, “... and also I caught four new fish and ate each on of them, but not the scales because they cut my mouth…”

And more, “... she touched my cheek and I really liked her food…”

And more, “... then I ate the stuff I found on the table down there but it tasted like soil…”

And some more, “... he is my God and he really cares, it makes me feel warm in my chest…”

And a little more, “... I don’t know how I feel about his mustache but so far I really like this house.”

As she told her story, Xiaoli appeared to pay attention to every single detail, her face shaping all manners of emotions from anger at Narzhak’s warlike tendencies, to fear at the mentioning of Kalmar’s name. Luckily, no thunderous ruckuses came from inspire the chambres, so the snake likely had not heard.

“I would really like to meet Her Holiness Li’Kalla one day… She sounds so sweet,” she mused.

“Wait, you ate the peels? You are not supposed to eat those!” Xiaoli raised a finger and shook it at the taller lady. “If you want food in a house, you ask the owners. It’s better than eating what is left over, okay?”

Poppler settled on Xiaoli’s nose with nothing but a soft popping sound as Hermes soaked up her words, “I didn’t want to eat anything, I was just helping.”

Xiaoli sighed. “That is really kind of you, but we would not want a guest to get herself a tummy ache just helping us clean up!” She tried to maintain the strict motherly demeanour, but it soon gave away to a giggle that became an uncontrolled laugh, likely due to the cloudling tickling her face in addition to the absurdity of the situation.

“I cannot believe you actually ate mango peels!”

“It tasted fuzzy,” Hermes added, “but more importantly, I made a promise -- but.”

She looked at Poppler and smiled softly, “if you’re saying I don’t need to do that anymore, I’m okay with that.”

The girl patted the fuzzy thing on her nose and crossed her eyes in an attempt to look at it. As it strained her eyes, she winced and gave them a soft rub. “Yes,” she added, “there is no need to eat fruit peels anymore.”

As the girl finished her sentence, there was a rumbling call from below.

“Xiaoli! Where did…” It was muffled by another ruckus. “...the wine?”

“In the cellar as always, my lord!” Xiaoli called back over the railing. She gave Hermes a sheepish smile. “Pardon me for a moment. My lord requires my presence. Feel free to explore the ship as you’d like or to wait on deck.”

With that, the girl tipped her torso at Hermes and gave Poppler a pat before speeding downstairs, the small cloudling trailing her.

“Poppler!”

”Pop pop!” The cloudling whizzed back to Hermes and zipped into her knotted hair. Hermes sighed and plopped onto the deck of the ship, “Poppler, I have a problem.”

”Zzt?”

“Everyone else seems to know so much more than me. I can’t even tell friend from foe, it’s all very confusing.”

”Pop.”

“Well, yeah I know thaaaat”

”Pop!”

Hermes smiled, her toothy grin reminiscent of her creators, “I just need to assemble all the new experiences, I think.”

Poppler emerged from her hair and rested on the palm of her outstretched hand, “thank you, Poppler.”

The small cloudling crackled happily in her palm and she poked it with her nose, little dew drops forming on her skin.

The pair sat together in a cheery silence, each thinking about their perspective purposes. Slowly time drained into a small happy buzz, causing the Dreamer to close her eyes, her muscles relaxing. The next thing she knew, she was napping on the sun soaked deck of the ship, her mind dancing with her creator as her body released all the stresses of traveling. A content smile formed on her lips, she could hear his excitement at her words--

Suddenly, the doors of the palace swung open with such intensity that they buffeted everything on deck. “Welcome!” the snake boomed in a voice that could have caused quakes.

Hermes’ eyes shot open, her dreams washing away rapidly to the back of her mind. Poppler swirled up in surprise, circling Hermes defensively with small crackling bursts of static.

”Zzt zzt!”

Hermes rubbed her eyes as servants zoomed past both the god’s flanks, carrying plates on plates with exquisite dishes and trays on trays with exciting drinks. The servants placed them down in an alternating pattern from left and right on a suddenly manifested longtable between Hermes and the now-clapping water god.

“This is a magnificent day - our first mortal guest! Congratulations, little, uh…” He paused for a moment. “I want to say… Burmese?”

Hermes sat up, her vision still blurry, “B-burmese” she blabbered, not quite awake, “Hermes.”

She pinned her elbows on the table and propped her head up, attempting to grasp at her sudden awakedness, “what--” a small yawn escaped her,“--what’s your name, again?”

The snake’s smile quivered a little. “Muh-... My name?” He took a deep breath, paused and cleared his throat. “Why, who else would I be but Shengshi, lord of the thousand streams currently your host!” He leaned forward and gave her a somewhat malignant wink.

“Do not make me remind you again, please.”

“Oh,” Hermes forced a smile, something about Shengshi unsettled her -- and she was best friends with a titan of iron and violence. Her eyes darted all about looking for something in particular, “where is Xiaoli?”

The snake raised an eyebrow and leaned in a little closer. “You are a curious one,” he said in a deep, oily voice. “You are captivated by a river nymph, yet pay little attention to the actual host… Your bravery is…” He flicked his forked tongue. “Fascinating…”

He recoiled and straightened himself up. He turned his face to the side and called, “Xiaoli!” A moment later, the girl came out of the gates carrying a tray with two small flasks and two small cups.

“Did you want me here already, my lord?”

“I always want you around, my dear,” the snake teased and gave her a wink, at which she giggled sheepishly. “However, it was not I who summoned you.” He pointed a clawed finger at Hermes.

“She did.”

“Yes,” Hermes said with a level of uncertainty, her eyes on Xiaoli, “since we are friends, I was wondering if you wanted to sit with me and Poppler. We also need to seal the pact,”

She extended her index finger, “it’s a very important part.”,

Hermes looked at Shengshi with a certain hesitancy, “and then maybe we can be friends too.”

As she spoke, Poppler floated over to the unstoppered flasks and suddenly disappeared inside of one with a small pop! This solicited a genuine smile from Hermes as she sat on her words, finger still extended and eyes focused. Xiaoli looked dumbstruck and stared into the flask in a fit of confusion. She picked it up and gave it a gentle shake, but found that nothing came out.

The snake furrowed his brows. “Friends, you propose? How direct…” His lips curved into a smile. “Who taught you how to form bonds of friendship, if I may ask?”

“A lot of different people,” Hermes announced, her usual energy returning to her voice, “also myself. I like it a lot, and it was easy to figure out, at least at the start.”

A proud smile stretched across her face, she could feel her experiences culminating, not to mention that she is pretty sure that that was the most articulate sentence she had ever created to date, “I’m still learning about foes though, so don’t ask me about that yet.”

The snake’s smile grew more genuine and he let out a warm chuckle. “Do not worry, little Hermes - you will not learn about foes here. Tell me, are you hungry?” He gestured to the long table. The scents were indescribable: Spices unforeseen throughout creation coloured the air with thick, fantastical fumes; the selections of meats and fish were almost too perfectly prepared, to the point where their tenderness had transcended the quality of texture and become an aura; the sides, if one could even call them that, produced a near unnatural image of deliciousness that seduced the pallet to the point where the tongue ought to take a cold shower.

Before Hermes could even answer, Poppler ascended out of the second flask and zipped on over to the food, submerging itself into a small bowl of hazel-coloured sauce. The Dreamer smiled, “my stomach is a little bubbly from the peels from earlier, but if it would make you my friend, I could eat some more.”

She looked over at Xiaoli, “can you help? There is a lot, much more than a worm for sure.”

Xiaoli looked over to the snake, who, after a pause, gave her a nod. The girl grinned and brought the tray over to the table in a few giggly skips. She sat down and patted the seat next to her, winking at Hermes. The snake slithered over to the far end of the table, where a glorious golden throne flanked with two ruby-eyed, amber-scaled, ivory-clawed gold dragons manifested.

“Please, eat your fill,” he said.

Hermes clamored over and sat down next to Xiaoli, dropping her heavy club and spear beside her. She quickly poked Xiaoli’s sandy cheek, keeping her finger in place and waiting for Xiaoli to return the gesture. The girl seemed confused and sheepishly returned the poke, soliciting a cheshire grin from Hermes.

“We are friends now,” She let her finger fall to her side and began to reach for some of the food; however, Xiaoli reached out to stop her, shaking her head swiftly at Hermes.

“Wait until he has eaten some,” she whispered. “Trust me… My friend.”

As Hermes pondered Xiaoli’s words, a suspiciously poofy Poppler left a perfectly clean bowl and quietly plopped into another one, filled to the brim with sugary glaze. Hermes nodded after a short pause.

The Dreamer turned to look at Shengshi, her eyes studying the mysterious snake-man and his bounty, “did you kill all these yourself?”

The snake, who appeared to be examining a fried shrimp, hummed absent-mindedly. “Nnnno. All of these were created in the kitchen, already prepared. I bet one could not find half of these creatures on Galbar.” He picked up an eight-tentacled creature and gestured to it. “Look, it’s a miniature Anzillu! I bet those do not exist yet,” he snickered.
“By the way, go ahead and eat,” he repeated.

Xiaoli once again gestured for Hermes to wait. “He is testing you,” she whispered softly. “He has been waiting for a mortal guest for so long - he wants to see what you can and cannot do.”

Hermes suddenly chuckled, her vibrating laughter causing a tiny crackle to sound from inside one of the bottles. Her gaze met Shengshi, a playful glint hidden in her black eyes “do you want to know what I can do?”

The snake raised an eyebrow and took his eyes off the shrimp, placing them instead on Hermes. His lips parted in a smirk and he put the shrimp in his mouth.

“Certainly, Hermes, my dear guest. Do share with us your talents.” Xiaoli, as a way of gesturing to Hermes that they now could eat, put some food on Hermes’ place and poured some funny-smelling yellow water into her cup.

Poppler crackled happily as it left a bottle and whizzed over to the drink, dipping itself under the liquid. Hermes smile grew, “I can beat you in a foot race!”

The snake’s enthusiasm visibly dimmed. He laughed dryly and rolled his eyes partially. “Clever girl,” he mused. He tapped his claws on the tabletop. “Anything else?”

Hermes’ eyes darted for something else, she wasn’t expecting her joke to fall flat, “uh!” She looked down at Poppler, who now sat in an empty cup, “he can drink a lot.”

This appeared to arouse the snake’s attention, as the god craned forward and planted both elbows on the tabletop, placing his chin firmly on his intertwined knuckles.

“Is that so? Well, I suppose that is a hypothesis that warrants testing.” He snapped his fingers and the servants brought ten barrels, all marked with the same symbol. Meanwhile, Xiaoli had her face in her hands and was muttering quietly to herself. Upon the barrels’ arrival, the snake got up, grabbed two empty bowls from the table and filled them both from the nearest barrel. He held one close to his head and reached out with the other.

“Come hither, then, little gasling, and let us see whether a cloud can match a god in tolerance!”

”Zzt! Poppler zipped onward, cheered on by Hermes’ clapping. The cloudling quickly submerged itself into the bowl. In a few moments the liquid had all but disappeared, the cloudling no worse for wear, save a little whiter and slightly poofier.

The snake smirked slyly. “Not bad…” He swallowed the contents of his own bowl and refilled the two. “... But can you keep this speed up, little one?” He emptied his bowl again.

Meanwhile, Xiaoli turned to Hermes with a wry expression etched on her face. “My dear friend Hermes, this is all a fun spectacle, but…” Another drink was had by the two, followed with empty challenges and “zzts”. The girl continued, “But this may not be such a great idea, after all.”

“Why?” Hermes looked at Xiaoli,” Poppler really can’t lose.”

The girl put on an anxious frown. “That’s what I was afraid of…”

---

The last barrel revealed its contents to the world as the snake god sent his scaled fist through the top, breaking half of the top off and causing several litres to spill out. As the god groggily attempted to dam up the hole with his hand, seeing as he could not let the wine go to waste, he dropped his bowl on the floor, shattering it.

“Gah, cu’shd wosshname…”

Xiaoli let out a cold, emotionless giggle. “It had to happen again, didn’t it…” She groaned and turned to Hermes. “I am sorry you got to see him like this…”

Hermes leaned into Xiaoli’s ear, “maybe he should just pee, when I get full of drink, that’s what I do and I feel a lot better right after.”

Poppler crackled greedily, its form mighty and puffy. Suddenly there was a tiny clap of thunder and a bit of cloud broke off from the cloudling’s engorged form, then another, and another, and another until the cloudling was back to its original size, except now it was surrounded by new cloudlings. The tiny swarm popped and crackled excitedly, making their way to the sugary desserts that had gone crusty and stale during the competition.

The snake, having keeled over and crashed into the floor, raised a shaky fist. “Buh-... Urp! Buh-heaten buh a fart…” A tear ran down the snake god’s cheek. “Beatun by a faaa-ha-haaart!” He let out a long wail that was occasionally interrupted by burps.

Xiaoli groaned again. “Oh, I told him to take it easy, but nuh-hooooo!” she whispered loudly to herself. “Just had to be stupid and challenge an actual cloud. Why does he have to be such a...” The following words were unintelligible for the sake of Hermes’ innocence.

Hermes pursed her lips and gave a worried look, “Should we go?”

”Zzt!”

The girl shot her snoring master a furious scowl. He turned back to Hermes and sighed. “That may be for the best. I am terribly sorry it had to end like this.” She grabbed Hermes’ hands and squeezed them gently.

“I really hope we can see each other again soon!”

Hermes’ flipped her hands around so that she was holding Xiaoli’s instead, “but why don’t you come then?” The Dreamer smiled wide, “we can go see Li’Kalla and Narzhak, Kalmar, K’nell, and everyone else.”

The woman suddenly stopped, her eyes widening, “we can be friends with everyone. I can show you my home too!”

Xiaoli suddenly appeared dumbstruck, her eyes darting between Shengshi and Hermes. “I-... I…” She looked over to Shengshi again. “I…”

Xiaoli cleared her throat, looking downcast. “I… Want to…” She took a deep breath. “I want to join you! Please, take me away!”

The Dreamer gave her one of her cheshire grins and quickly organized her items into loops on her back. As she tidied herself, Poppler suddenly zipped into her hair, with nothing more than a content crackle. Hermes sighed happily and faced Xiaoli, her playful gaze dancing with glee.

“Shengshi is with K’nell right now, anyway.” She reassured the woman as she suddenly wrapped her arms around her. Before another word could be spoken, there was a thunderous clap, and the entire ensemble turned into a blur. The world turned to pins as they darted over endless tracts of land.

“So where do you want to go first?” Hermes asked, her scream turning into a whisper that had to be said directly into Xiaoli’s ear.

Xiaoli looked utterly slack-jawed at what had just transpired. She looked at Hermes with a glistening shine in her eyes. “Wh-... Wherever you would like,” she said dreamingly.

There was a long silent pause as Hermes thought, the group ascending ever higher. Quickly wisps of clouds enveloped the group as Hermes continued to think. There was so many things to show her new friend, she had no idea where to star-

Suddenly there was a brief flash of gold, but only for a split second, and then suddenly, everything changed.

Phystene wandered along Kalmar’s continent, following the eastern coastline north. She took her time, walking slowly to watch the calm ocean, trees, grasses, shrubs, and even a few animals sprouting from the ground she stepped on. It was a large continent, perhaps the largest currently on Galbar, and Phystene knew that it would take a long time to cover its entirety in wilderness. In the end it would certainly be worth doing so.

After a few hours Phystene turned to look behind her, seeing a sliver of forest stretching out behind her. It was certainly a start, but it was too narrow for her tastes. A few woodland creatures, such as the squirrels that even now peered at her from the freshly grown trees, would find the thin forest comfortable enough, but most would struggle in its confines.

Phystene doubled back, only this time walking further inland to spread the growth of plants further. The new forest would by no means be large, but it would form a decent enough ecosystem in the area. For the moment.

Several more hours and Phystene was once more near the southern coast of the continent. The new forest behind her was still quite thin, but it was good enough for the moment. For a while she simply stood in place, enjoying the sound of wind rustling through the leaves, of small animals moving through the brush, and the waves of the nearby ocean.

This was a place of beauty. A place of safety. A place that she would always enjoy visiting. And it would be the place from which she would travel Home when she so wished. She called out to the World Tree, funneling some of her power to it. The World Tree answered, the ground shaking as its roots burst from the soil before her, coming together in a large arch.

To most mortals that arch would look like nothing more than an interesting formation of plants, but it was so much more. To those the World Tree allowed, it was a literal gate to Phystene’s sphere. Phystene could see that the World Tree would be… particular about who was allowed in, and she agreed wholeheartedly with its criteria. Only those who possessed no products of advanced civilization, that being of a bronze age civilization, would be allowed through. Yes, only those in touch with nature, who had yet to succumb to the greed inherent in civilization would be let in.

As Phystene admired her work she heard the voice of Asceal speak kindly in her mind, “Hello Phystene. Would you have a moment to talk? I know it’s been some time since we last spoke, but I was hoping you could help me with something.”

“Asceal? What do you need help with?”

”I’ve raised an island in the south,” Asceal elaborated, “I mean it to be a sanctuary and a gift to whatever souls come to find it. I would ask your help with sowing the land with life and preparing it for whatever inhabitants may one day reside there. If you’re willing, of course.”

“I’ll be there soon.” Phystene said after a moment. “There’s something I need to talk to you about anyways.” She directed her next words to Kalmar. “I’m going to help Asceal with her new island in the south. I’ll return shortly.”

And with that she headed off to Asceal’s island. With a little guidance from Asceal she was able to make good time and the trip itself was rather unremarkable, but the sound of the ocean made it enjoyable. As she approached the island she told Asceal “I’m here. Where can I find you?”

“At the peak of the northernmost mountain on the mainland,” As Asceal spoke a bright light blossomed on the distant mountaintop and she asked, “Can you see me Phystene?”

“I can.” Phystene said and mere moments later she had made her way to the mountaintop as well. She gazed out on Asceal’s island as she said“I hope your day has been better than mine.”

“What do you mean?” Asceal asked as her form dimmed, revealing a concerned expression, “Has something happened Phystene?”

“Orvus attacked me.” Phystene answered. “He didn’t hurt me badly, but he very well might have killed me had my bluff not worked. Even so we… accidently created some kind of abomination during our fight.” She let out a long sigh. “And Orvus made it clear before retreating that he intends to kill all of the nature deities. Kalmar and I, mostly Kalmar if we are being honest, have been working to create a pact to combat Orvus and prevent him from going through with whatever mad plans he has concocted.”

A complex series of emotions played out on Asceal’s face. The Goddess seemed to be frozen in shock for a moment before, without warning, she hugged Phystene and spoke softly, “I’m so sorry Phystene. Melantha, Katharsos, and now Orvus? Are all the other gods mad?” Asceal held on for a moment before letting go and before speaking again, this time determinedly, “I’m here if you need anything Phystene, and you can count me in on this pact of yours. We can’t let Orvus, or any of the others, get away with this insanity any longer.”

“Perhaps they are.” Phystene said quietly. “Truth be told I might have been one of them if I had remained in my original world for too much longer.” She made a wiping motion with her hand. “But that is in the past and, as pitiable as they may be, our less than fully sane peers must be at the very least isolated so that they won’t harm Galbar and those who shall call this world their home. We are already preparing to make Kalmar’s continent our bastion. A base from which we can pull back to and know we and our creations are safe should things get… out of hand. But I feel that we can prevent things from reaching that point.”

She turned to Asceal and gave her a smile. “But let us get past all this talk of doom and gloom. You asked for help spreading life here. What did you have in mind?”

“I..” Asceal hesitated before shaking her head and matching Phystene’s smile with her own, “You’re right. We can’t forget what we’re here to do. I invited you here because I wanted your help crafting a sort of life here that will exist nowhere else. I want to create a place where every creature carries its own light. Where nothing fears the dark.” The glowing Goddess paused for a second and then quickly added, “And mangos. I would like mangos.”

“Mangos?” She raised an eyebrow, giving Asceal a bemused smile. “I suppose I could make some for you.” She crossed her arms, her smile turning to a thoughtful frown. “Carrying light… So you want all the life here to be bioluminescent. Only… I’m guessing you want their light to be a bit brighter than would normally be the case. It’s doable, though I do have to say that normal plants and animals don’t glow for no reason.”

“There is a reason,” Asceal ran a hand through her glowing hair and shuddered, “Plants, animals, I don’t want any of them to be defenseless against Melantha and her darkness. At least here, in this refuge, I want them to be safe.”

“That kind of ecosystem is going to take a lot more energy to sustain than normal. We are going to have to get a bit creative because the light from there” She pointed towards the sky, “simply won’t provide enough. We might be able to syphon some energy off of the wind, but I also doubt that’ll make up the difference.” She thought for a moment. “Perhaps we could use a volcano or hotsprings to help?”

“Not a volcano,” Asceal shook her head emphatically, “I don’t think going out of our way to invite Sartravius is wise. I hesitate to judge, but in light of all that has happened his actions in the Architects palace worry me. Hot springs though… I think I can do that.”

The Goddess knelt down and pressed her hand against the dark ground. Without a word the ground below the deities began to rumble. Great jets of steam erupted from a multitude fissures that opened in the ground all across the island, many of which were visible from the mountaintop. When it was done Asceal stood up and beamed, “There we are. What comes next?”

“My turn.” Phystene answered. She held her hand out as if reaching to touch one of the new hot springs and concentrated. Normally bacteria were the lifeforms that inhabited hot springs and were capable of drawing energy from the heat and chemicals in them. While it wasn’t quite as simple as enlarging the bacteria and making them more ‘plant-like’, Phystene certainly could adapt many of those same qualities to plants themselves. Slowly trees began to grow out of and around the hotsprings, their leaves letting off a soft glow reminiscent of the World Tree’s. After a few moments grasses and shrubs began to develop, they too glowed softly. Phystene let out a soft sigh and lowered her hand. “There are your plants. Anything specific you want in regards to your animals?”

Asceal spoke as she admired the glowing trees, “Just that they have some measure of their own light, even if it’s a lesser measure than can be afford to the trees.” The Goddess paused and looked to the horizon. There the tail of the Lustrous garden was beginning to rise, heralding the coming night. She frowned, “And I’d ask they be able to defend themselves. I don’t wish for them to be vicious, but they should never be helpless. Never.”

“I understand.” Phystene said and she truly did. The thought of the monstrous angler fish she and Orvus had accidently created and what beings Orvus might model after them sent a chill through Phystene. The creatures here would certainly not be defenseless. First she created mammals. Many of them were small herbivores that possessed quills that glowed slightly. Larger herbivores possessed the mass necessary to fend off most predators. Then she created wolves and other canines. These too glowed just as Asceal wished. Then Phystene began to spread birds throughout the island. These birds were large, flightless creatures that possessed strong beaks, their feathers giving off a radiant light. Some ate leaves and fruits, others feasted on smaller creatures. All told she hadn’t the energy necessary to spread as many animals as she had plants, but the island now possessed a small and dispersed population of animals.

”What do you think?” She asked with a soft sigh. She felt drained, almost as much as when she had created the World Tree and created her first ecosystem.

“It’s beautiful,” Asceal commented as she took in the colourful and varied plants and animals that stretched out in all directions. Again she hugged Phystene, but this time just for a moment. Asceal smiled and looked to Phystene, “It’s more than I had hoped for. Thank you.”

”I’m always happy to help a friend.” Phystene answered Asceal with a smile of her own. She gazed out at the island, a contented expression on her face. “Shengshi has a habit of coming up with weird names for his creations.” She lightly commented after a moment. “He sort of makes a big deal about it.” She shrugged. “Do you have a name in mind for your island?”

“A name?” Asceal pursed her lips in thought, “It’s name is…. Is…. Issst? Ist. Istai… Istais! It’s name is Istais!” She declared with a grin. The island thus named the two deities shared a comfortable silence as the sky grew dark and the long day past. Much had happened, and much would happen, but for the moment they were content to enjoy the fruits of their labour glimmering all around them.

Azura chose the very top of the world as the place for her scheming against death. There she raised a roughly circular island upon which she erected a ring shaped mountain range, forming a sheltered and hidden valley at their center. Then she formed a final mountain directly atop the north pole. The lonely mountain in the valley at the center of the ring that pierced skywards with impossible steepness and was blessed for its hubris with eternal sunlight at its peak. Around this peak where her sphere and Galbar where forever one she built a great temple shaped like two wheels, one within the other. The spokes of these turbines where slanted to make them into great turbines. The outer spinning clockwise and drawing air up into it and in the process bringing wind and clouds into the valley and then into the Blue, while simultaneously making flying up to the fortress from the valley easier. The center one spun counterclockwise, pushing air down the sides of the mountain, making ascending that perilous peak on foot even more treacherous that it would have been otherwise.

The temple’s interior was utilitarian for the most part, filled with vast empty rooms that could be easily fit to propose later all linked by a grid of wide corridors that you could easily march a company of soldiers though. The scope of these was made primarily to prevent Azura’s newly discovered claustrophobia from getting the better of her even as she locked herself in a dungeon of her own creation. The only windows in the temple were arrow slits and the entrances where small number hanger bay like rooms guarded by sturdy gates operated by wind powered mechanisms, both decisions made to ensure entry was as difficult as possible. All of this was lit by Azura’s feathers set into torch holders and chandeliers dotted at regular intervals throughout the structure, each one carefully plucked from her body only for a replacement to rapidly grow in its place. This left the interior as bright as a summer's day and soft wind currents generated by the wind goddesses’ feathers ensured that the air was never stale.

The giant structure would be her bastion against death, and her laboratory for forging measures to counteract it. In a great hall in the outer ring she placed the soul pearl she had brought from the soul reef on a cushioned pedestal and settled herself before it to begin her study.

First she simply attempt to replicate the hardened soul ash. Having chosen a place far from the vortex this was easier said than done, and the goddess spent hours fruitlessly grasping at nothingness trying to gather the necessary ingredient for her first experiment. Eventually however she decided to partially dismantle her pearl to observe the reverse of the process she was attempting to establish, which lead to a breakthrough that allowed her to create a single soul pearl relatively easily. The process of hardening the raw material understood and then practiced a few hundred times she moved on to the real objective. Solidifying souls.

A Life bloomed before her in the form of a tiny seedling that sprouted into a delicate flower growing in a patch of conjured dirt. Azura took a moment to admire it, and then snuffed out its life. As soon as she did its tiny soul emerged and was gripped by the pull of the distant vortex. As it was the goddess attempted too wrest it from death’s grasp, only for it to slip away, for her hold had been to gentle. She tried again, holding it to tightly this time, causing the soul to be torn apart by their battle. Then she tried again.

And again

And again

Until finally she settled on not holding the soul back completely, but simply slowing its flight enough that she could work on it. Souls briefly stabilized she tried to harden them in the same manner as the soul oysters did with ash. At first she got only fine diamond dust that spread across the room, then fragmented stones and finally, after hundreds of attempts, the first solid crystal. It was fragile and ugly, but it resisted the vortex’s pull nonetheless.

She could do better.

Days passed and as they did life bloomed and was extinguished thousands of times as the room slowly filled with dust and flawed crystals. Plants were replaced with simple creatures. First bugs, then lizards and finally mice, some of which were allowed to accrue memories over a short span before they too were committed to crystal. The scent of blood and death slowly filled the room. As the goddess worked she wept softly, for even though she believed what she was doing was necessary, that these simple lives were worth sacrificing for the potential rescue of sentient souls from Katharsos’s grip, her empathy could not allow her to become cold to the violence she was inflicting upon them. Yet even as she cried a deep old buried part of her was more than comfortable with these sacrifices. She hated that part and understand not from whence it came. She buried it deeper than it already lurked but could not extinguish it entirely. As she learned and gained experience she expanded her scope from painstakingly preserving single souls to flash freezing dozens at a time, moving herself to a second room which was rapidly filled with purer crystals. Yet even this was not enough. She needed older souls with more memories to solidify if she was to hope to perfect the art for the void souls. It would be a tragedy if she came to their aid only to destroy their minds and memories because she had not mastered her invented art.

With a gust of wind Azura threw open one of the sets of gates to her newly minted fortress, letting the light of the blue stream inside. Beyond in the blue fluttered thousands of sky slugs, the simple creatures having multiplied without end without in the predator-less sky and had as a result easily recovered from the moonfall massacre. They would suit her needs well and so a second slaughter began.

---

Several hours later Azura felt that she had gained all the knowledge she could bare to gain from the sky slug souls. She had also discovered a problem, namely that the sky bastion was rapidly filling up with Soul Crystals and that it was not going to be a sustainable place to put them. They were also making the fortress frightfully cold as they drew in heat to sustain themselves. If filled to the brim the entire bastion might well freeze over, stilling its turbine, sealing its gates and sapling the life from it’s occupants. The Soul Crystals would, in the end, render the fortress worthless and unable to protect them. So she had dragged the tones of solidified souls down to the foot of the mountain, and carved a hidden entrance to a buried necropolis into a secluded crevice at the end of a ravine. Already feeling rather hemmed in however, the giant bird struggled to find the will to move into her newly created soul sanctuary.

”It makes sense.” She assured herself ”the vault can be ever extended under the island and it’ll be safer from meteorites and the like. You just need to go in there and make the rest of it Azura.”

After a few more moments of steeling herself she finally entered the tunnel. She got about 100 meters worth of tomb carved before breaking, the stress and exhaustion she had been suffering combining with her recently discovered fear of enclosed spaces forcing her to beat a hasty retreat back out into the perpetually twilight smothered the base of the mountain. She couldn’t do this. Not now, not soon, and yet time was of the essence. She’d need something to perform this task for her.

To achieve this Azura took one of the mostly blank memory-less crystals from her first successful crystallization experiments and formed a body around it. Air solidified into luft-stone that was infused with the dust of her first failures which formed a pair of arms and a head around the Soul Crystal. From the rear ends of these body parts emanate a cloud-like mist from which wind could emanate to push the creature around and let it maneuver its two disembodied limbs. Once it was finished forming the construct, that ended up being about the size of a small dog, it floated before her motionlessly, devoid of will or propose. To rectify this she pushed her mind into the smooth featureless soul crystal and ever so carefully carved memories into it.

She taught it how to carve, how to dig, how to build. How to understand souls, make temporary links to gain simple information from them to allow for categorization. To understand language at a basic level to engrave what they had learned about souls into notes that they and others could read. How to cooperate with more of its kind to complete its singular given task: to expand, organize and maintain the Vault of Souls. Then she made hundreds more of these all copies of the first. As soon as they were completed the Curator swarm set to work without any additional instructions. Some collect some of the already produced soul crystals and began taking them inside to store in the tiny Azura prepared section of the Vault. Others immediately headed to the depths and began carving out new tunnels and crypts for both those that had already arrived and for those that where yet to come.

Azura was content to watch them for a short while, but soon enough even the ravine became to claustrophobic and she had to extract herself from it. All that greeted her was the beak stone valley she had created. Rain was falling in the valley and where it fell above the vault it became snow. It was a somber sight, one that matched the grizzly business that had gone into learning what she had about making soul crystals. Her practice was not yet complete. She would need more complex souls if she was to perfect the process in preparation for saving the void souls. Yet she had made progress and could not help but feel pride in her work. She perched there on that lonely mountain side for just a few moments, letting the snow and rain washed the smell of blood, dust and ash out of her feathers.

The moment of stillness was over all to soon, for there really was not time to spare for basking in her accomplishments. Azura took wing and soared back up to the sky bastion. There was still so much left to do.

---

After his brief encounter with Eury, Parvus continued to travel eastwards, crossing Swahhitteh and the sea. As he walked across the water, he noticed something had changed about Galbar. He pulled a leaf from his hair and crushed it into moss. After a few moments of resting within his palm, a lotus bloomed. He snapped his hand closed. He conjured a silk bag on his side, opposite to his stinger, and stored the moss within it.

Eventually, he reached a new island, infused the essence of Li’kalla. He sensed the goddess was nearby and patted his new silk bag. He reached out with his mind, and called to the rain goddess,
”Hello, Li’kalla. It appears as though I have stumbled upon your island, and I wish to speak if you do not mind. ” he said.

Huh! Came the flustered sound of the Rain Goddess’ voice, H-How are you… N-Nevermind. Okay. I’m near the Lake…?

While Parvus had no idea where “The Lake” was, however it was easy to locate her. He walked over to her, before noticing Li’Kalla sitting on the shores of the Lake. She was idly dipping her feet into the boiling waters and watching the steady stream of clouds formed from the body of freshwater disappear into the mist. When Parvus came closer, she withdrew herself from the waters and stood up to face him, face slightly hidden behind her hair.

Parvus paused for a moment, and silently composed himself, ”I hope I am not interrupting anything.”

”Uh, no, I-I don’t think so…? I was just… Sitting.” She shrugged half-heartedly.

Parvus hummed, slightly unnerved by his fellow god’s silence. ”Do you mind if I show you something?”

Li’Kalla immediately seemed to shrink. She opened her mouth to speak but closed it soon after. She took in a deep breath and finally spoke, ”N-No boxes please.”

Parvus was slightly confused by that statement, however believed that prying would be unwise at the moment, ”It is not a box, though it is in a bag. And I promise that neither the bag or its content will harm you.” he said, almost authoritatively, but followed it with the more solemn, and meek, ”I would not harm anyone with this.”

”Oh,” Li’Kalla sighed and clasped her hands in front of herself, ”If it’s harmless then… I guess it’s okay. Is it a pretty thing? I-I like those, like flowers.”

”It would be easier to demonstrate” he said, slowly grabbing the bag at his side and bringing it up just as slowly. Without a touch, the silk bag opened and begin to unravel itself into nothing, revealing a simple moss. However, a very slight warmth came from Parvus’ hand, and after just a moment, the moss was replaced with a lotus blossom.

Li’Kalla gasped and covered her mouth with both hand, bending forward to look at the blossom closely and then take a whiff of its scent. After a moment, she looked up at Parvus with starry eyes, ”Wow! That is pretty! I’ve never seen those before, what are their names? Why do they grow out of moss and not soil? Tell me!”

”They typically grow in shallow waters, however they only bloom during the hottest time during the year, and during the rest of the year, the moss blooms. When it is their time to bloom, the moss dies, imbuing the waters with nutrients to allow the flowers to bloom. They are called Calor Lotus.” he paused, obviously noticing her excitement, ”I am looking for a place to plant them.”

”Ooh… That’s a very unique flower, isn’t it? It’s pretty, it grows on water… I bet you could take baths with Calors… Calori… Calos… Uhm,” Li’Kalla frowned for a moment, ”Lotuses? I bet you could take baths with Lotuses floating all around you! So pretty! Please plant a lot of them everywhere!”

Parvus paused for a moment, ”Yes, they are quite special aren’t they.” he said, in an unusually casual tone. However, his tone returned to normal, though still being earnest, ”Sadly, this is not a type of flower you can simply plant anywhere. They require exceptionally pure water.” he paused for a moment, before continuing, ”I presume I could change that, but..” he said, without an actual reasoning behind it, at least not one that he could vocalize.

”Well, uhm, i-it’s embarrassing but… I’ve never been able to create water myself, so...” Li’Kalla bit her lip, ”But, I really want them! How do we make the pure water?”

Parvus paused, and watched steam bellow from the lake above him, observing the water rising into the air, ”Rain water should be pure enough, so long as there is no soil contamination.” he paused, ”We would just need a region with enough rainfall in order to support them during the hottest season, and at least one other season for the moss to grow. he said calmly.

Li’Kalla chuckled quietly and within a few moments, water started drizzling down onto them. The drizzle then became a rain, and the rain came with drops of water as big as coins. ”It’s one of the things I can do. If it’s only about rain water and enough rainfall, then I only have to make sure it rains all year round, right?” As she spoke, the rain kept pouring down, as if it was trying to fall with such force on them that they’d be drilled into the very earth.

Parvus did not mind the rain, however he suggest ”If we want to plant these flowers, I do suggest we do it away from this lake.” he said, gesturing to it as though it was obvious why.

”Yes, I had assumed we’d stay away from the lake. It’s very hot around here for these pretty flowers.”

”This is your island, where would you like these flowers to planted?”

Li’Kalla brought up her clasped hands to her mouth and hummed quietly with her brow furrowed in thought. After a while, she smiled and shrugged.

Parvus simply paused a moment, and then smirked, ”Then how about this?” he said, clasping his other hand and when he released it, a colorful dragonfly flew out of it in a random direction. ”How about we place it where the dragonfly lands?”

“Okay! Do we have to follow it?” Li'Kalla asked as her eyes followed the dragonfly zipping away.

”I am able to track it across this entire island, however we could move while we talk if that is more agreeable to you.”, he said, both formally and noncommittally.

“Let's wait until it finds a place then, it might get scared if it sees us following it.”

Parvus smirked at the comment, but simply replied ”So be it, it should not take too long.” True to his word, a short time later, the dragonfly landed, and Parvus gestured in a direction and began to walk that way, followed by Li’Kalla who stayed a few paces behind the God of Insects.

The trip was a long, silent and uncomfortable experience for both, as no one seemed willing to speak while moving. But, eventually, they arrived at the place. It was a fair bit northwest from where they’d started, ending up in the western coast of the landmass. The dragonfly was perched on top of a particularly long blade of grass, cleaning itself.

”So, um...” Li’Kalla began, whose excitement had all but vanished with the long silence between the two, ”Here? It seems like a good location… We’d have a good amount of lotuses in ponds, and then we can make a fishing village surrounded by lotus ponds. Fishermen would come back home to their wives with lotus petals drifting through the air. Romantic!”

Parvus was staring into the flower in his hand during the entire trip, lost in thought. ”That sounds lovely.” he said, holding back a melancholic tone.

Li’Kalla tilted her head, frowning a little as she looked at Parvus. Yet a moment later, an idea seemed to physically flash before her eyes, ”Oh! Umm, i-if you don’t mind, could you give the place some cute insects? Back home I used to love ladybugs, I don’t know if you know what they are. I can draw them for you if you wish!”

Parvus paused, ”It is my job to know about a wide variety of insects, however how about you draw the type of ladybugs you would wish to populate this region while I seed the nearby lakes with our flowers?”

”Okay!” Li’Kalla smiled and sat on her knees on the ground, a piece of parchment appearing in front of her as well as a brush and black ink. ”It’s been a long time, but I can do this! My servant once taught me the ways of the Artist!” She giggled quietly and immediately got to work while Parvus set out on his task.

Parvus begin his task, slowly seeding each of the nearby lakes with moss and lotus seeds. As he did his repetitive task, he quietly chanted something solemnly. Once he was finished with his task, he composed himself and walked back to where Li’kalla was drawing.

”... Aand, done!” She said with a sigh of relief, wiping sweat -- or was it just rainwater? -- off her brow. As she set aside the brush and ink, she turned the parchment to show the drawing to Parvus.

It was a beautifully realistic, yet still stylistic representation of a ladybug. And, while the black ink wouldn’t show the true color of the insect, it was perhaps even more beautiful because of the limitation. The strokes were masterful, and the ladybug was depicted as being perched on a lotus flower, preparing to take flight.

Parvus took a few moments to carefully look over the sketch, he held his injured hand against the ground, and after a few moments, ladybugs begin to fly out of the grass. They appeared just as the picture, except were vividly colored. In addition to ladybugs, butterflies, dragonflies and small harmless, water bugs appeared in the nearby landscape. He reached his hand out, a single ladybug landed on his hand, ”Are they to your liking?”

Li’Kalla held out her hand and several of the bugs landed on it, ”Oh… They’re so,” She sniffled and wiped her eyes, then chuckled, ”So pretty. I like butterflies too.”

A few moments passed with them both admiring the small flying insects, until Li’Kalla rolled up the now-dry parchment and gave it to Parvus, ”You can keep that, it’s the least I can give you.” She said gently before standing up. ”I-It’s a wonder I managed to not ruin the parchment or drawing with all the water running down my body...”

Parvus gracely took the parchment, and attached it to his side with silk. ”Thank you, though I have one last creature I need to make.” he said, taking some dirt and molding it into a colorful frog. A few moments later, similar frogs appeared hopping across the grass. ”They are also really sensitive to water quality. So they can warn you if there is a problem with water.” he said, matter-of-factly.

One of the frogs leapt and landed in front of Li’Kalla, and it seemed to be looking intently at her, so she leaned over it and caressed its head with a finger. ”Thank you, really.” She said without looking up.

Parvus took a moment to ensure he had not forgotten anything, ”I believe that is all for the time being. I believe I should keep moving west for more ground to populate. However, if you ever need me, do not hesitate to contact me.” he said

As Li’Kallas eyes slowly opened, she found herself laying on her side, a granite bench underneath. The rock was tepid from her nap that she didn’t even know she had begun, but otherwise not the most comfortable bed.

All around her was a dewey garden, fitted with dark green shrubs, well trimmed trees with gnarled roots and flowers that had yet to bloom. Strange birds tittered and the sky was a dark purple dusk. Cutting through the strange garden was a cobblestone walkway, wide enough for two but not much else, its destination hidden behind bends and rows of trees.

Dusk, huh... Li’Kalla thought as she shook her head and rubbed the sleep away from her eyes. She groggily sat up and yawned and stretched, letting out a high-pitched grunt of relief. I better get going… I don’t want to be late, right?

Right?

Li’Kalla sighed and slouched over a little. The moment of weakness didn’t last long, however, as she was quick to straighten up and stand. Without hesitation, or a spare thought toward her own feelings, she set down the cobblestone walkway.

Her attire was a simple yet luxuriously tailored white dress, designed with minimal frills and accents as per her Father’s request. It didn’t seem odd to her at the time that her feet were bare, and that her skin seemed a little bit paler than usual. In fact, being in the Garden reinvigorated her, and being near the young flowers gave her heart a feeling akin to a warm embrace.

And yet, she didn’t want to be late, so she walked on, eventually leaving the small, secluded area of the Garden behind, ladybugs and butterflies and caterpillars grieving silently as she left them to their own devices.

“Hinan,” a great voice rumbled. A large bullman suddenly walked beside her, only one of his hooved feet able to fit in the path, the other carefully stepping between shrubs and flowers. His face that of a bovine and was old and grizzled. Underneath was a large muscular body, now worn with age and wrapped in furs. Strapped to the great minotaur’s back was a book as easily as tall as Li’Kalla and perhaps twice as wide. He walked slowly, his guttural voice vibrating from his throat.

“How are you this evening, Hinan?”

Li’Kalla’s eyes shifted to the Great Bullman beside her and after flashing a look of anxiety for a split moment, they showed an absolute calm. ”Uncle, how great it is to see you, I see you’ve added to your collection of furs,” Li’Kalla asked with a warm smile while her heart threatened to pound so intensely that it could jump straight out of her chest. She couldn’t let anyone know how she truly felt, that was true. But her Uncle? Maybe he… Just maybe…

What could be described as a hearty yet soft laugh echoed from the bullman, “Oh, while flattered, I am not your uncle.”

The minotaur looked over at the woman with his elderly eyes, “I am Freg Gerntef, Hinan. I hope I do not disturb your walk, but I think we are going to the same place and simply wished for some company.”

Li’Kalla’s eyes glazed over, and then she shook her head, smiling sheepishly. ”... Oh, my apologies. I must have seen the furs and heard the voice and mistaken you for someone I know, Mister Freg.” She looked at the darkening skies for a moment before gesturing down the path, ”It’s getting late, isn’t it?”

“Late is just the beginning of being early for something else,” Freg grunted. The great bullman stopped suddenly and shifted away from Li’Kalla. Bending slightly forward the minotaur let out a graveled gasp, “speaking of, Hinan.”

Waving Li’Kalla over, there stood on a tiny bush a single bloomed flower of cyan and gold. At first she had tilted her head curiously at the bullman, but once she saw the familiar shape of petals and the bright, living colors, she had to walk closer and get on her knees before the flower. She bent over and took in its scent with closed eyes, a scent that reminded her of peaceful days playing around with her cousins in grassy plains.

A few moments passed.

”What does Hinan mean, Mister Freg? Is it something pretty, like this flower?” She asked while she gently caressed its petals.

“Many generations have I walked, and many more have I called out Hinan, and yet very few have ever asked me what it meant,” Freg mused, his eyes bouncing off of the flower and to Li’Kalla, “Hinan,” He began, raising a finger to one of his horns, “is hornless, as I am Harnian, or with horn.”

He paused, “however you bring up a point, now that I know you a little better I can see there is more to you than a lack of horns, and so Hinan is no longer appropriate.”

The bull man thought for a moment, “perhaps I can call you by your given name?”

Li’Kalla smiled sadly, her eyes focused on the flower, taking in its every detail as if afraid it might vanish at any moment. ”My given name? Of course, it is Laina. Perhaps you’d like to give me a name, Mister Freg?”
Freg stood up straight, thoughts flickering in his eyes, “Dova-bo, a graceful dawn.”

”Dova-bo...”

Suddenly a tiny droplet fell from the sky and struck Freg’s cheek, then another, then one on top of Li’Kalla’s head. With a loud jangling of straps and clasps, the great minotaur released his mighty book from his back and held it high above the two, “Shall we continue our walk, Dova-bo?”

Li’Kalla watched in a mix of amusement and confusion as Freg used his book to shield them from the rain. However, before standing she had one last thing she wanted to do. She bent down and gave the flower a gentle kiss which left her lips tingling pleasantly. She smiled at it and finally stood and began walking down the path, with Freg guarding the both of them against the rain.

”Mister Freg, are you afraid of the Rain?” She asked while sparing one last sideways glance at the flower, now basking in the fresh rain.

“Mmmm,” Freg’s throat grumbled, “I can’t say that I am. Fear is rather expensive at my age, to spend it on rain would be rather poor of me, Dova-bo.”

”So it is,” Li’Kalla said, and after a long while, continued, ”I enjoy the Rain, Mister Freg. I would feel guilty if you ruined your precious book because of me.”

“Do not worry, Dova-bo,” Freg let his book fall from above them, clamping it under his arm, “my book, too, enjoys the rain.”

Rain was Li’Kalla favorite weather pattern, that was true. However, as the rain grew stronger and she became soaked, her expression turned from serene to sad, and an almost palpable change had washed over her demeanor.

“What bothers you, Dova-bo?” The minotaur suddenly said, as the pair passed a roofed gazebo amid a sea of shrubs

”O-Oh, it’s nothing Mister Freg,” She said as she wiped her face and walked past the gazebo, ”I can’t help but be relieved for the flower now that it’s raining, that’s all. I-I was afraid it might not make it if it didn’t rain...”

“Oh,” Freg hummed, “it will always make it, every flower here will. Unbeknownst to the tiny plants, diligent gardeners are always at the ready, much like in life.”

”Then, Mister Freg,” She sniffled, ”Who cares for the gardeners?”

What could only be described as a bull attempting a smile formed on Freg’s mouth, “who does indeed. Then again, perhaps our own gardeners are as unknown to us as we are to the plants. I suppose all we can do is bloom, Dova-bo.”

Li’Kalla clasped her hands close to her chest and sighed, ”Then I suppose that’s all we can do, isn’t it? Bloom...”

”Please excuse me if it seems incompetent of me, Mister Freg, but-” She bit her lip for a moment, ”I-I seem to have forgotten our destination.”

“I believe we have already made it, Dova-bo,” Freg hummed, “I was looking for a flower, and if I remember correctly, you were looking for-”

He waved his hand in front of him, the path ahead ending at the steps of a grand palace that was colored like the night, yet sparked with life and tiny glowing orbs, “-here.”

Li’Kalla stared in awe at the palace, admiring its strange qualities and most of all, the glowing orbs. She recognized them! So without a single moment of hesitation she started making her way towards the palace’s front doors. A few paces before reaching her destination, she turned towards Freg and waved. ”Mister Freg, thank you for accompanying me, I hope your search was fruitful.” She said with a nod of her head and a curtsy, before going up to the doors and knocking.

“Don’t forget to bloom, Dova-bo,” Freg answered as he turned around, and as he did, the door to the palace opened wide. A flock of hovering orbs of light greeted Li’Kalla in the doorway. Behind them a great stretching hallway pushed onward into the palace, countless doors on either side with a myriad of decor and paintings between. A sweet nostalgic scent permeated from the familiar walkway, and the carpets, though old held a memorable charm.

Li’Kalla smiled and poked one particular orb of light -- an orange, citrus smelling one. ”Hello there, little stars,” She said softly while petting another one, this one green and smelling of grass. The orbs danced happily around her and she giggled, a light blush coloring her cheeks, ”Oh, you make me feel welcome. Come, let’s go inside.”

Once inside, the doors closed behind her, but she didn’t mind. Instead she walked down the hall with a flock of orbs following her. Some went into doors and others played with her hair or her dress’ frilly hems.

Many different melodies played in the hall, sneaking out from the cracks under the doors and bouncing off the walls. Paintings of faraway places and familiar homesteads were showcased on the walls, alongside busts of unknown people and beings. Eventually the hallway came to a stop right outside a mighty door, and despite all its pomp and size, it was easily pushed aside by one of the tiny dreamweavers eliciting a subtle gaze of admiration from Li’Kalla.

As she entered the great ballroom, she saw thousands of the weavers spinning and dancing, all to a single tune being played by a lone figure in a strange throne that centered the room. The smiling gentleman blew softly into a pipe of many lengths and sizes, little toggles on the sides allowing him to control the airflow as he did. The tune was light and magical, as if a spirit of the forest had written the notes especially for Li’Kalla’s ears. The melody flowed into her body and seemed to become a part of her, and she could swear that the very air in the room was saturated with music, beauty and art. The height of life.

Li’Kalla, however, didn’t move an inch. While her whole body wanted and desired nothing more than to join the swarm of dancing dreamweavers, in her mind she knew something deeper was happening here. For this figure, the entity sitting on the throne in the centre of the room seemed familiar. Indeed, this entity had the same air about him as the gentleman from her previous dreams.

Slowly, Li’Kalla remembered her waking life. Bits and pieces of information popped up as she racked her mind for any hint or clue as to who this entity might be.

The first things that shocked her were when she noticed her different physical appearance. Right before her eyes, her skin went from fair to deathly pale. Her dress went from white to blue. Her skin was as soaked as it had been under the rain outside the palace, and her hair became shorter and blue, like the color of a lake in a cloudy day.

After that, she remembered her old life, her old death, and finally her new life and all those that had come forth at the same time as her.

She enjoyed the rain. However, the feeling of cold rain pelting her soft skin even when there were no clouds… Of being abandoned to soak under the tears of the heavens… The feeling that she had been feeling every single moment since grasping life for a second time. That feeling? She hated it.

Feeling her stomach churn and her heart grow heavy, Li’Kalla’s ears stopped registering the melody. Her eyes ignored the swarms of beautiful dancing orbs. She walked past it all, past everything, until she reached the bottom step of the throne in the center of the room. She looked up at the figure, so blissfully playing his odd instrument. Pretending like a simple melody, a simple dance could wash away all the pain, all the filth that her soul had become.

It felt like an eternity passed by the time she finally spoke. It was a soft, meek thing, her voice. ”K’nell?”

The Gentleman let go of his instrument, the many pipes floating away from him without ceasing their song. A grainy voice echoed around the pair, “yes?”

”Oh…” Li’Kalla took a step back and looked around, at the dance and the joy around them, ”What’s this? Why am I here?”

K'nell leaned forward, his voice hanging between the pair, “this is the Palace of Dreams. You are here because you sleep.”

The God of Sleep raised a hand and from thin air an oaken chair fitted with a plush crushed velvet cushion appeared next to Li'Kalla. He motioned for her to sit and so she did, making sure to do so in the most proper way she knew. Perhaps it was the music or the decor of the place, but she curtsied and sat slowly and deliberately, hands clasped on her lap. After a moment, she looked up at K’nell, her eternal blush somehow seeming more intense.

”... How much did you see? In that dream, I mean...”

“I see everything,” K'nell answered, “from the first dream to now.”

“The irony of it all, is in some dreams I see more than the dreamer,” He paused, letting his voice fade away into the echoes of the ballroom.

It was a long silence. Li’Kalla didn’t know what to do. She didn’t remember dreaming of anything too bad, but…

It was sudden. A single sob pierced through the veil of joy and entertainment in the room, and everything seemed to freeze. More were quick to follow as Li’Kalla desperately tried to wipe her eyes and hold herself together. She failed, and soon she was bawling like a lost child.

Some dreamweavers approached her, perhaps out of curiosity or maybe annoyance, but she ignored them. She felt sad, indignated, she felt violated, but most of all, she was ashamed.

”W-Why- I don’t- I don’t want y-you to… No one… So shameful- To see me like- Like t-that...” She muttered amidst sobs and whimpers, her tears mixing with the rainwater on her skin and dripping off her chin onto her dress.

A low hum seemed to cover K'nell as he thought and then finally the God's voice returned, “Shame… insists that in knowing, one would despise you for it.”

“I perhaps know more than I should,” K'nell continued, “and yet my respect for you grows.”

The dreamweavers seemed to cover her, almost like a soft blanket as the God spoke his grainy words, “I admire your strength.”

Li’Kalla shook a bit each time the dreamweavers tried to cover her body, and after a while had calmed down enough to respond to K’nell.

”Y-You… You do? But...” Li’Kalla took in a deep, shaky breath and, after a moment, exhaled. ”I see. You must have not… Seen all there is to see. I’m glad. However-” Li’Kalla paused, stood up, grabbed the cushioned chair and started climbing the steps up to the throne.

”You may know that I...” She grunted as she reached the same level as K’nell and set down the chair in front of him, taking a seat in the same formal way she’d sat down before, ”... Am in fact rather weak. Letting myself be deceived, enduring lies and abuse, being just… Afraid. I am not worthy of your admiration, Master K’nell.” Li’Kalla said gloomily.

omeThere was silence, and then all at once K’nell stood up, his throne flickering out of sight as he did. The God extended his right arm perpendicular to his side, his left staying stiff against him. There was a soft rumble and suddenly two emerald green stalks gently grew from the floor. The one to his left grew unfettered and quickly reached his shoulder, the bud at the end blossoming into a quaint red.

The stalk to his right grew gently, up until it was blocked by K’nells hand. The plant was forced to divert, only for K’nell to block it once again. The plant swerved but eventually made it past the God’s hand, reaching his shoulder, the bud standing ready atop it’s squiggly body.

“There is but one thing left for this plant to do,” K’nell echoed, “to show the world that despite its journey, it is strong.”

He looked directly at Li’Kalla, “It just needs to bloom.”

As his words faded the flower blossomed, it’s colors radiating the ballroom in a wash of beauty. Colors from all over the spectrum glossed it’s pedals, and as K’nell sat back down on a sudden reappearing throne, his voice hung between the two Gods, “without a little rain, there can be no rainbow.”

”I… Suppose you’re right.” Li’Kalla pursed her lips as she took in the sight of the new flower, ”Thank you, I’ll try, but-” Li’Kalla bit her lip.

”What is it you want from me? You’ve been too nice to someone like me. You must desire something, right?”
“What could I possibly desire,” K’nell answered, “but for the world to see what I do.”

Li’Kalla tilted her head curiously and scooted her chair closer, now sitting on the edge. ”There’s one more thing. Hermes. You are her creator, right?”

“I am,” The voice answered, “and she’s shown me the great kindness you’ve showed her. For that I am grateful.”

Li’Kalla frowned and looked away, ”She is too innocent, she’ll be trampled and soiled like a flower in the path of a herd when the time comes… Like me. You know this, don’t you?”

Another silence conquered the ballroom, only for the grainy voice to reappear in time, “She is on her path, freely, and she is not without those who care.”

The Goddess took K’nell’s hand in hers in the blink of an eye, stared at him with narrowed pupils emitting an anger that could rival Sartravius’ Muspellheim in heat. The intensity and touch causing K’nell to shift towards her as she spoke, ”I care for her, and I will destroy anyone who dares lay a finger on her. She’s-” Her intensity faltered, ”She’s… Special, and important,” Li’Kalla said with a small dreamy smile sneaking onto her face. The aggressiveness with which she’d grasped K’nell’s hand turned to gentleness, ”And I want her to have fun. That’s it. And, you know, I was wondering if you were bad or good, what with basically violating my privacy, but-”

“Then it would appear,” K’nell began, shifting in his throne to the position of a thinker, “she has four Gods who care for her.”

The God hummed, “As for whether if I am good or if I am bad, I cannot say. I see myself for who I am, and to contrast my life against another’s never brings good tidings.”

Li’Kalla slowly let go of K’nell’s hand and clasped hers on top of her lap once more, ”... I wouldn’t call you bad. You did create Hermes after all, so… And well, that dream was… Nice. All things considered. I wouldn’t mind having more dreams like that… Back in my old body, wearing my usual clothes. How did you find out all of these things? I’ve never told those things to anyone.”

“Even a God’s mind sings loudly in the land of dreams,” K’nell answered cryptically, “I listen. I listen to thoughts, memories, things forgotten and things that never happened. I take it all and then I create with it. I make truths, lies, possibilities and endings as well as beginnings. Anything can happen in a dream, and anything can be used for such a dream.”

“And only after all this, does the dream happen,” The God leaned back in his throne.

”Can you create dreams upon request? Custom dreams. I-I’d like to try one of those one day.”

K’nell sat in thought for a moment, “I suppose I could.”

“It could be interesting,” The God of Sleep slowly stood up, circling around his throne in a thoughtful pace, “yes, I think I rather like the idea.”

“For you,” K’nell turned to Li’Kalla, placing his hands on the back of his throne “I will allow a custom dance to be orchestrated in the palace.”

Li’Kalla perked up upon hearing the words, wide-eyed and with a sparkly look to her gaze. She grinned widely and brought up her hands to her chest, ”Yay- I mean, Yes! Not right now, though. Later! You’ll know when, I’ll make sure to think really hard of it before going to sleep next time. You have to make sure I don’t realize it’s a dream, though. Maybe distract me with cute animals or children when I start getting too nosy!” At that, Li’Kalla jumped up from her seat and smiled smugly.

”Don’t get all weird about it though, Master K’nell! It’ll be a fun dream I promise. We’ll be doing things I always wanted to do back home!”

“You have my word” K’nell tilted his head ever so slightly, “I look forward to the experience-”

”And now, I wake up!” She shouted energetically, pumping a fist up in the air.

Nothing happened.

A moment later she cast a ‘help me’ glance at K’nell, not wanting to be embarrassed in front of the dreamweavers. A low rumble came from the Sleep God, his eversmile making it difficult to discern what it meant, but in a mere moment he was snapping his fingers and-

Li’Kalla’s eyes opened.

She was lying on her side next to a moss pond. A lone ladybug was crawling over her neck and she went to swat it away when she noticed she was holding something in her hand -- A flower with petals of every color. At the same time, the top of her ear itched and she found a gold and blue flower neatly perched on her ear.

”Mister Freg and Master K’nell...” Li’Kalla muttered to herself after sitting up.

A twinkle of sunlight speared through a dense canopy, tickling Seihdhara’s eyes open. Above her was a sea of emerald leaves dancing in an unfelt breeze, their branches croaking with each passing gust. Beneath she felt the plush of moss, propped on the curve of a bulbous birch root. Realizing that she had been holding her breath, she let in a comfortably warm spray of air, the smell of spring and autumn both flickering in concert. Opening and closing her mouth a couple of times, she could not help but think the moistness of the air to be strange, but she quickly overcame this line of thought, for she then got to thinking that it was stranger yet that the roof of the great cave she had fallen asleep in was no longer there.

‘Rhu...’ she mumbled, turning her head to the side. But neither Urhu nor the fire nor the cave nor winter nor the Purlieu were to be seen.

Three cords sounded, their vibration hanging in the air and provoking her to sit up. Past the blur of sleepy eyes she saw a young man lounging between a bed of moss and a sheer cliff face of soil and roots. The plain looking man was draped in sheets of white wool, his eyes closed and mouth pursed as his nimble fingers plucked softly and slowly at a sixteen stringed instrument.

The cords were stretched over a hollow wooden bowl and ran over a long wooden neck complete with notches. Seihdhara looked at him bleary eyed for what felt like a few minutes before finally rising - her hair pushing against the earth and slowly lifting her until she was on her feet. The sounds were strange to her, but they elicited a degree of excitement and she found herself wishing for a flute so that she could respond to the sounds with notes of her own. Idly her strands began searching for a suitable branch as the saffron-haired wo- she blinked. Frowned. Then she looked down at her bare body.

Rather than the full-formed and carefully maintained physique of the adult warrior goddess, her’s was that of a juvenile girl on the cusp of puberty. It was so small, so vulnerable, that her immediate reaction was embarrassment. Then her hairs began to wrap about her like clothing to hide the shame of her childish form that knew nothing of battle or motherhood. For all her previous confusion at being in this strange place, she did not pause to wonder at this bizarre development but took it for what it was and moved on quickly. Her weakness covered, she found that her strands had been carving away at a piece of wood that now hovered before her in the shape of an elegant little flute. She took it in one hand, but rather than playing it to the white-clad stranger as she had at first intended, she held onto it and approached him warily, her eyes darting here and there for any sign of danger, her budding body tensed beneath the protective layer of hair.

Three more cords sounded and something above the young musician became apparent to Seihdhara as she approached. While his fingers danced slowly over the instrument, both a black mouse and a white mouse were at work above him. Each had a hole in the side of the cliff, and between their homes was a thick tuft of long grass, its blades tied to a sword that dangled directly above the musician. Seihdhara’s eyes narrowed in recognition of the double-edged short sword, its blade of silver and its subtle orange glow visible even from where Seihdhara looked. The handle was a dark mahogany, and Seihdhara could not quite see it but knew that it was wrapped with a leather grip and that the pommel was carved into the head of a roaring bear. Every now and again the white mouse would come out from its home and harvest a single strand of grass before disappearing once again. When it did, the black mouse would emerge and take a strand from its own side. The two mice continued this repetition slowly but surely as the man worked the cords of the instrument.

The sounds were happy and yet filled the air with a sense of dread. And Seihdhara frowned and knew that for all the happiness in those sounds she did not like this at all. Her brows knotted in worry and she looked from the white-clad musician with eyelids closed, then looked to the waiting sword above.

‘Hey you, up there on the wall. Watch out above.’ She called out at last to the musician. Then she frowned at the sword and grass and mice above. Gently, mousey, gently, pray.

There was no answer as the musician’s fingers skipped along the neck of his instrument, his other hand idly plucking at two strings. Slowly the two string sound quickened with his pace and as it did a great house formed next to Seihdhara, its foundation cleaning away a grove in the forest. She quickly recognized it as the musician jumped to four strings. Then to five, as the door began to open.

Seihdhara stared wide-eyed at the great paw that opened it. There, in the darkness of the oaken doorway, a great furred figure stood staring at the silent saffron-haired goddess. A paw was extended, a pouty smile revealed sharpened teeth, and ‘Aida,’ reverberated from the great bear’s chest. Seihdhara frowned, her eyes brimming with tears and her lips pouting ever so slightly.

‘B-but...’ and tears fell, ‘you’re dead.’ Her words did not seem to faze him, and he released a great guttural laugh and beckoned to her.

‘Aida,’ he repeated, and the word came warm and inviting, safe and fatherly. She took a step towards him - but you’re… - and then she was running. Lifted up with ease, she was smothered by his two great arms, safe and warm against his chest. And about his feet there were suddenly cubs, looking up and reaching for her and calling Aida, Aida. She laughed and cried and looked down and reached for them all as they stroked her saffron hair and pulled at it. ‘Let’s get you inside, nice and warm out of the snow.’ Said the old grizzly bear. She looked out at the clearing, felt the sun on her face and breathed autumn and spring, and she did not question his words. Then she looked at the musician and saw the sword - her sword. And a chilling dread filled her as the door gently closed.

Gently, mousey. Gently, pray.

No matter where she stood in the house, somehow she was angled just perfectly by a window so that she could see through it and through every window was the musician. His fingers glided across seven strings, his hands a blur as they quickened. Above him the white mouse would pluck a blade of grass, and retreat, and then the black mouse would pluck a blade of grass, but the musician never looked up.

A melancholic sound filled the house, but everyone around Seihdhara seemed unbothered. And for all the warmth of the fire and excitability of the cubs, for all the old grizzly’s reassurances, Seihdhara could not shake the dread off. It gnawed at the back of her mind, clawed at the periphery of her vision. And when she dared to look, there was the white-clad musician, plucking at the strings as the mice plucked at the grass-blades above. She sat by the fire, now in the old grizzly’s lap as he recounted to her the night he found her - in the darkness and cold she had shone brightly and radiated heat. Recounted how he had gathered her up in his two great arms and carried her with him home, where all his children had been excited and awed by the beautiful red-haired creature that now slept on the bed. ‘There was a time before, when Aida was not,’ he murmured to her, ‘and it was good. But then there was Aida, and our days were brighter for it, and happier too. And more troublesome, my little one, for trouble follows you wherever you go it seems.’ She giggled at his words and buried her face into his great hairy chest, and he smiled and stroked her hair.

‘Aita,’ came a familiar voice from below, and she turned and beamed down at Burido. The cub smiled and called her again in that characteristic way he said certain things, ‘Chasilpi is hiting akain Aita an’ I can’t fint him.’ He pouted and furrowed his brows, then Seihdhara was by his side, taking his paw and running off with him up the stairs.

‘Wherever you are Jazilbi, we’re coming!’ she declared, and spent the afternoon hiding and seeking and wrestling and frolicking with the cubs. Red-faced and unable to stop smiling, she found herself by the window again, and the musician was there.

‘Aida,’ came the old grizzly’s voice, ‘come away from the window. It’s cold out.’ She stared at the sun-stained clearing, the light glinting off the silver blade, and a frown grew on her face and her smile slowly faded.

‘It… it’s not.’ She looked back at the old grizzly and there was a distance in her eyes, and the tears that so quickly brimmed and fell whether for sadness or joy.

A lie. It was a lie. She walked towards the door.

‘Aida,’ came the voice again, now with that familiar sternness his voice took on when he wanted her to listen, ‘it is cold out.’ But there was a distance in her eyes, and she could not unsee the lie. She reached out, and she pulled the door open. As she walked out, she found herself much more grown than when she entered, and despite any time if there was any, the same musician plucked nine strings as the mice worked diligently.

In spite of the bear’s words, the musk of summer played in the grove, while also being strangely garnished with the crispiness of a winter breeze. Even in the strangeness of the weather numerous flowers began to blossom and close, without a care for time. The musician orchestrated his music with the same amount of bliss as the blooming flowers, his strumming rapidly growing. Young fingers scraped up the neck of the instrument, and the grove began to energize along with it, inciting familiar shadows to suddenly spring from behind the trees.

She took a few determined strides towards the musician, her eyes fixed on the blade, but then she found that someone had linked their arm in hers and suddenly she was being spun about a great bonfire. Familiar shadows leapt from behind the trees and drew panpipes and flutes. Eyes glinted and glistening snouts and lips blew, their notes joining the sounds of the strings. She was spun here and there, thrown and pushed. Laughter rang out and she found herself linking arms now with - Jazilbi? - and now with - Huro? And a certain peace overtook her and she joined the dance with gusto, beating the earth and leaping across the flame, spinning and twirling, and being spun and twirled. And now she was in Burido’s arms, and now she was in Shashta’s. And so from the arms of one grown grizzly to the arms of another she went, laughing, shouting, whooping, until she stood spread eagle before the flame, looking heavenward. And she wandered then - when had it gotten so dark? The shadows leapt around the flame, familiar shades and visages with gleaming eyes and teeth.

Aye, something was not right. But she could not quite… remember. She watched in a daze for longer than she knew before realising that there was a flute in her hand. And she knew not from where it had come, but brought it slowly to her lips. And the shades suddenly froze, their glinting eyes horrified and wide. She stared at them, also frozen. Then her eyes narrowed and there was an anger there that set her hair aflame.

The lie.

And she blew. And the note came tuneless and shrill. And it blew the flame, and the mocking shades of familiar and much-loved faces, and the darkness, all away. And even as they were blown away, tears wet her face and a part of her wished that she had not seen the lie, that she could dance and play with all her beloveds.

And then there was only her, and the musician, and the sword, and the mice. This time she did not attempt to step towards him, wary of the lie. Her hair spread about her slowly, like a mantis cocking its forearms. And like a mantis striking - with suddenness, with speed - they speared out towards the sword. But her hair never found the sword, instead it wrapped gingerly around Urhu’s waist, the Goddess looking up at Seihdhara. Off to the side the musician strummed all 16 of his strings, his fingers slamming into them and causing amazing vibrations. The plucking, the strumming, it all culminated into a dance.

Around Seihdhara cubs danced, friends twirled, and family embraced. Houses familiar and not quite so replaced the trees to the west, while places both dear and unknown carved the east, but in the center remained the cliffside and the mice. She watched as little orbs of emotion spun between each memory, a great cheshire smile appearing on the musician’s face.

With the wanderer suddenly so close, Seihdhara felt her heart leap into her throat and the pressingly important matter she had sought out slipped from her memory again. She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against that of Urhu, and she exhaled. And then it was not just cubs dancing about her, but little hairless babes, a healthy olive in complexion. She brought some to her bosom in a great motherly embrace while others hugged her feet or drooled on them. She handed one of them, wrapped up warm in the skin of elk and deer, to Urhu, and the wanderer seemed utterly unsure of how to deal with it, which made Seihdhara laugh and kiss her beloved’s cheek.

‘That’s Boboa, he’s the shyest and gentlest,’ she told Urhu, pinching little Boboa’s cheek and kissing his nose, ‘and one day, he’ll be the wisest.’ She said with certainty. ‘And this rowdy little one biting my foot is Jinyurek. Small in stature, big at heart, mighty in the fray.’ And she picked Jinyurek up and rained kisses on him even as he grabbed her face and cheeks, cooing and giggling. And she sat down and brought all her little ones to her, hugging them and kissing them and raining all her love on them as Urhu watched, and she wrapped her endless her about them all and brought them close - so close that it seemed to her that they were a part of her again, and she closed her eyes and was at peace.

‘If you go up and look over from the top of the mountain, you can see the ocean in all its vastness and wonder.’ Came her father’s voice. She opened her eyes and found that she was not wrapped in her own hair, but in so many blankets by her father’s great fire, her siblings gathered all about it also and the great old man with endless white beard sat rocking on his rocking chair.

‘Can you tell me a story about the sea, papa?’ she asked sleepily. And his divine voice rumbled - but a gentle rumble mind you, a rumble one knew was for them and not against them - and Seihdhara felt the warmth of the fire and floated in the ethereal sea of her father’s all-pervading voice.

When she opened her eyes again she was looking out of a familiar window. But whereas in reality the scene from the window had been of the world below and her children’s struggle against their furious grandfather’s curse, Seihdhara found that she was now looking up. There, on the wall, she saw the musician again and knew that she had seen him before, but could not remember when, and she saw the sword also and the mice. ‘Hey you,’ she called out as her endless strands of hair reached up to take the sword, ‘come down off the wall.’

The musician’s eyes never opened, and Seihdhara’s hair never made it to the sword. No matter how hard she called out or how far she reached, the musician and the cliffside always seemed a whisker further. A loud jambled sound ruptured the musical notes as the musician’s hand came down too hard, snapping one of the strings of his instrument. Instantly a cold whisper of a breeze wafted behind Seihdhara as the string was severed and quickly the musician switched to different cords, his fingers weaving around the remaining fifteen chords in a complex melody.

Seihdhara looked to the side, her eyebrows furrowed slightly. There was someone behind her, she knew. Before she could turn around completely, two arms gently wrapped about her, and a kiss was planted on her cheek. She turned fully and found herself looking into Aella’s blue eyes. There was on her face that same gentle smile, and it seemed to Seihdhara that even now she could hear the goddess’ comforting words. Smiling, the saffron-haired goddess placed her head against her comforter’s shoulder and a hand against her cheek, so as to feel - as she had attempted to long ago (was it really so long ago?) - what such kindness was made of.

"Oh, my young, sweet sister..." Aella said, stroking Seihdhara’s head. And Seihdhara remembered then how lonely Aella had seemed when last she saw her, sitting there atop her hut while the - what had the little black and yellow striped insect been called? Oh yes! - squiggles. She laughed at the memory and held tight onto the goddess of kindness. And though deep down she knew she was holding onto the lie, she held tighter still.

The grove was warmed with Seihdhara’s laughter, her rosy emotions brightening the forest and reflecting off of the musician’s mighty smile. Slowly the musician stood from his place, his hands a blur as they worked the many strings and produced copious harmonies, and then all at once the sword finally fell. The blade plummeted through the air and sliced against the strings of the instrument, and then with a mighty flash, Seihdhara’s eyes flew open.

There were tears in her eyes, a sad smile on her face, and she felt as though she had been awake all along. Even now she could hear Aella’s words, see her face, feel the warmth of her cheek. Even now she could hear Aida, Aita, even now the cooing of Jinyurek. Urhu’s sleeping form was still beside her, and she threw an arm across the other goddess and buried her face in her side.

---

In the southern jungle of Kalgrun, a lone parrot perched atop a tree. It had been one of the birds that had migrated from the Eye of Desolation. Although they had planted their seeds, many remained. This particular parrot was roosting.

A falcon swooped down upon the oblivious parrot, and snatched it with its claws. The smaller bird squawked loudly, but the falcon ignored its pleas and carried away.

Kalmar observed this from a distance, impressed by Arryn’s aptitude for stealth. Arryn soon flew over, landing near his feet, and began to feast upon the caught parrot. Kalmar wondered what the creatures tasted like. He spotted another one in the distance, notched an arrow into his bow, and took aim, but halted when he felt a divine presence nearby.

A divine, wordless voice echoed out, emanating from Parvus’ will, ”Greetings, Kalmar. Do you have a moment.”

Kalmar stopped, lowered his bow, and put away his arrow. ”Parvus,” he said, both aloud and in his mind. ”I do. What is it?”

Parvus approached the hunter god, and start to speak, ”I have been walking across the world, seeding new life. While I intend to create more life here, I also believe we have other matters to discuss. Have you spoken with Phystene?”

Kalmar nodded. ”I have. Is this about the attempt on her life?”

Parvus froze for a moment, before quickly calming himself. ”I must have spoke to her before this attack. I am sorry, I am unaware of this incident.”

”It was Orvus,” Kalmar told him. ”The God of Desolation. As Phystene tells it, he is on a path to destroy all life. We need to stop him.”

There was another pause, but this time he was contemplating. ”This is problematic.” he said, in a cold, cynical manner. ”What do you intend to do?”

”I intend to kill him,” Kalmar stated bluntly. ”Not now, but at some point in the future. In the meantime, I am informing the other gods, and asking them to agree to an alliance. An agreement to defend each other’s creations against Orvus, if he attacks again. Will you join?”

Parvus answered, ”Before I answer, are you fully aware of what happens if Orvus also finds allies?”

”Then the conflict will move on to a larger scale. Which is why we need to form our alliance first. If Orvus finds allies and we aren’t united, they can destroy us individually.” Kalmar answered. ”If we are smart, we can fight back in a way that minimizes casualties and collateral damage.”

Parvus stopped vocalizing, and merely pushed his thoughts from his mind, ”No. You can not. You must realize, if there is a war between gods, then Galbar will burn.”

”It depends on how the war will be fought. And it may be unavoidable. Orvus seeks to destroy all life. You, me, Phystene, and most of the others seek to create it. He will move against us - it’s only a matter of when.”

There was a pause, and Parvus begin to vocalize again, ”You seem to be mistaking my intentions. I am not suggesting we do nothing. I am suggesting we do nothing foolish. If a single god would stand in support against Orvus, then attacking him could bring ruin.” he paused again, ”But there are ways to bleed your enemies without scratching them.”

”Bleeding them will only provoke them into striking back. Even if it kills them in the long term, in the short term they are still a threat. It must be a killing strike. I do not go and fight Orvus right now, because I am waiting for a plan and an opportunity.”

”If you attack him, and he survives, then there will be ruin. If you attack him, he dies, and someone mourns him, then there will be ruin. It is possible that the mere act of killing him could bring ruin. You are correct, if he is aware that we are harming him, it will provoke him. That is why we simply must not be caught.”

”Like an insect that stings and flies away,” Kalmar mused. ”That could work, but I do not believe that deception could be kept up forever. Let’s say I agreed with you: how would we accomplish this?”

”This greatest lies are ones so interwoven into the truth, that is impossible to tell where one begins and the other ends. I would require some time to formulate a proper plan, however I believe we should look to separate Orvus, Galbar, and his source of power, his sphere.”

Kalmar stroked his moustache. ”His sphere is where he is the strongest, and aside from destroying it, I do not know how we could sever his ties to it. If you can find a way, I will help you, but until then I must assume it will come to a fight.”

”Allow me some time to consider the manner, and I insist that you do not do anything brash in meanwhile. And if this to ever work, then Orvus can not know I oppose him. However, there is still the other matter of creating life. This is all for not if there is no life to defend is it. Will you grant me permission to spread my influence over a portion of your land? ”

Kalmar nodded. ”Of course. Insects are vital to any ecosystem. What will you create?”

Parvus considered it for a moment, still uneasy after the previous conversation, ”I am most familiar with the maintenance of wetlands, however I would need a source of fresh water to create one.”

Kalmar nodded. ”There is a river and a lake to the north. I built the lake, and Shengshi built the river, though I do not think Shengshi put much care into its construction.” he shrugged. ”Unless you are willing to build another river, that’s all there is.”

”Then allow me to investigate this water system.” he said, as begin to walk to the north.

Kalmar walked beside him. ”Have you encountered a creature named Hermes?” he asked as they walked.

”No. I believe I have only interacted with a few of the other gods. I am unfamiliar with this Hermes.”

”She is a mortal. Created by K’nell. Intelligent life that isn’t a deity,” Kalmar explained. ”She is still learning of the world. I taught her how to fish. If more like her were to be created, I wonder what they could achieve.”

”You seem unfamiliar with mortals. They pose their own complications, but.” he said, cutting himself off.

”I am unfamiliar with sapient mortals,” Kalmar explained. ”Before I was brought here and granted power, I was incapable of my current level of thought, or this level of communication. I assumed this was unique to gods, but I was wrong.”

”In my previous existence, mortals were commonplace. I. ” he paused, ”Mortal life complicates things, however beauty is found in complication. I would be simple to make a simple ecosystem of grass, rabbits and wolves. However if we did so, we would miss out on the majesty of forests.”

Kalmar nodded. ”Yes, we need diversity. As the first mortal, this Hermes is almost a champion of diversity. She did not seem strong, but she was fast, and her willingness to learn and ask questions implied intelligence. And intelligence is just as necessary for survival as speed or strength.” he paused. ”What more can you tell me of your experience with them?”

”There is a lot to say on the subject, however some of the most important things are that there some mortals with intelligence, but only a short period to learn. This can lead them being fickle and self-absorbed. However, they can also be caring and ingenuitive. ” he paused, ”And if we are not careful, mortals could lead to divine conflicts. If you reach your influence to far over mortals, you may end up hitting another god.”

”Conflicts are an inevitable part of nature,” Kalmar responded. ”So long as these conflicts serve to empower more than they destroy, I do not see a problem.”

”It seems as though you have not yet adapted to your new role as god. Whenever two animals fight, they can barely scrape the ground. Whenever large groups of mortals fight, they can burn forests and salt the land. Whenever gods fight, they can sunder islands. With the added power we draw from our spheres, we could likely shatter continents with our fighting.”

Kalmar’s expression darkened slightly. His ability to adapt, the quality he thrived on and took pride in, was being questioned. ”Conflict does not always need to be violent.” he pointed out. ”And if it does come to violence, then even beings as powerful as us should be able to cause less destruction if we handle it correctly. If I were to fight Orvus, I would do it where we are far from any life, and when he is not expecting it. Or I would take your suggestion and find another way to weaken him.”

Parvus stopped whenever he noticed Kalmar’s face change, and allowed him to finish. He lowered his head slightly, ”I meant no offense. Adapt is the wrong phrasing. I believe adjust would be better suited. You are seeing reality from a perspective, and in a new light, it will obviously take some time for your eyes to adjust.” he said.

Kalmar shifted back to a neutral expression. ”I could say the same to you,” he pointed out. ”Before you came to this world, were you as powerful as you are now?”

”In my previous world, I was a god. However, I was not as powerful. What would take me decades to do now takes me seconds. And yes, I do believe it take time to adjust, which I believe justifies slower, more deliberate action.”

”That tactic has merit,” Kalmar agreed, ”but there are still times where direct action is better. But we’re talking in circles now. We should speak another day, so you can build your swamp,” he suggested.

”That would be wise. I also believe we are close to this river, I am going to go ahead to inspect it closer.” he said, going from a supernaturally fast walk, to a sprint. As soon as he saw the river, he looked disapprovingly and waited for Kalmar.

Kalmar noted the disapproving look. ”Shengshi wanted to call it the Donghe. I thought Easthe was better, but a name is just a name,” he shrugged. ”The lake is to the west. That might be a better place.”

Parvus continued to walk west, ”The river current is way too strong to support a wetland. If I were to create one, it would likely just wash away all of the loose earth into your lake. I would have to completely redo it for it to be a viable location. I am not sure if that could support an ecosystem.”

Kalmar’s expression darkened once again. ”I think it can still support one, but if you turn out to be correct, then that snake’s spite has done more than just create an eyesore.” he grumbled. ”We did not get along when we first met.”

Parvus frowned slightly, before hiding it away, ”I am sorry. I have spoke out of turn. As I said, I am most familiar with wetlands. However, how that I think back to it, I do believe I have heard about ecosystems located along rapids. It is my own lack of understanding which is at fault. Perhaps it would be better if you sent another god to speak to him about the manner. I am unfamiliar with what happened between you two, so I can’t speak further on the matter. ”

”I tried to talk to him about a serious matter. He wasted time on false flattery, so I interrupted him. He then insulted me and took a threatening stance. I told him that if he tried that again I would not stand for it. I do not know why he reacted so strongly in the first place,” he shrugged. ”As a god he should be above those impulses.”

Parvus nodded, ”I see. I believe this is a simple misunderstanding. Etiquette can be important to some people, and by disregarding it you have offend his social position. However, I do believe he handle the situation poorly. It is similar to animal hierarchy, but regrettably more intricate. Perhaps we should be such impulses, but I believe we are not.”

”If it is like animal hierarchy, then giving in to his demands would put him above me,” Kalmar pointed out. ”His reaction to the situation is his own failing, not mine. I won’t hold this specific instance against him, but I will make no concessions.”

”Yes, if you were only recently given sapience, etiquette must be quite a confusing thing. It can be confusing for those who were taught it from a young age. But sometimes small concessions over seemingly pointless things can show a willingness to cooperate. However, I have not meet Shengshi, so I can not speak to his character. But some people will try to exploit even simple kindness. It is a precarious balancing act.”

Kalmar grumbled once again. ”I don’t want anything to do with that. If I have something to say, I will say it. I won’t waste time, and I’ll expect the others to do the same. That should not stand in the way of cooperation. Shengshi must accept that.”

Parvus nodded along, ”That is a perfectly reasonable mindset. However such people can be difficult to work with if you do not meet their arbitrary standards, prehaps you should consider speaking to him through a mediator.”

”I speak for myself,” Kalmar told him as the lake came into view. ”This dispute will be dealt with face to face, if at all. Now ignore my thoughts on the other gods - can I count on you as a friend? Not just against Orvus, or for mutual defense, but in general? Me, you, Phystene. Our responsibilities overlap, so the three of us will need to work together, and you seem to have good judgement.”

”The architect has dictated two simple instructions into me, and so I will do as he requested and sow the world with life. I am more than willing to cooperate to fulfill that will.” he stated, as he walked towards the lake and begin to brush his hands against the ground.

Kalmar nodded, a slight smile on his face. They might not agree on everything, but he felt a certain respect for the insect god. ”Good.”

“Allow me to begin by changing this rocky terrain into something more appropriate for a wetlands.” he said, waiting for a moment before jabbing his injured hand into rocky ground. Green veins extend throughout the ground, and begin to surround the lake, even slightly intruding into it.

The rocks begins to crack and breakdown into mud and clay. While he was doing so, he was also seeding the soil with all manner of insects.

Once the rock turned into soil, he continued to focus and trees, mushrooms, and reeds sprouted from the ground. And then he begin to create more complex life, frogs, salamanders, alligators, turtles, snakes and birds.

Parvus turned to Kalmar, “Is there anything you would like to request.” he stated.

Kalmar looked upon the alligators with an expression of interest. ”No,” he said. ”You say you have more experience with wetlands than me. I won’t upset whatever balance you formed here.”

Parvus took some time to appreciate the wetland he created. He reached out into the mud and grabbed a leech and examined it. ”I do have a selfish request. If you ever do fight Orvus, do not forget what you are fighting over.”

Kalmar nodded. ”Existence itself. Not an easy thing to forget.” He extended a hand toward Parvus.

Parvus paused, ”Do not be so focused on the large things that you ignore the smaller details.” he stated, placing the leech back into the mud before extending his hand.

”The smaller things are what make up the larger things,” Kalmar pointed out, as he gripped Parvus’s hand and shook. ”I will fight to protect their existence as well. I am not shortsighted.”

”If that is all, I believe I should continue my journey. However I will leave you with only last bit of unsolicited advice, conflict can improve us but it can also blind us.”

---

Ashalla swam with joyous pulsations. ‘Your reef is gorgeous,’ Azura had said. Someone thought her creation was gorgeous. She had always known that her creations were beautiful, yet the affirmation left her jubilant. Ashalla swam eastwards to find new parts of the world to inspire her next creation.

She found a new continent which was currently quite rocky. She circumnavigated the coast around the south. The great volcano of Muspell was still sitting where Ashalla had seen it earlier. As the coastline turned towards lower latitudes the barren landscape gave way to grasslands and forests inhabited by insects and colourful birds. A detour southwards to the Eye of Desolation revealed that all the islands of the crater were now covered in plants and life. Then she travelled back north to travel up the east coast of Kalgrun, looking at the forests there.

Ashalla marvelled at the beautiful diversity of plants and animals. This area tasted of Phystene’s essence. Ashalla felt inspired to create a few living things of her own. She took a lizard and modified it, giving it wider feet for swimming, waterproof eyes, and a long snout with nostrils on top so it could breathe while mostly submerged in the water. She took a few birds and gave them waterproof feathers and webbed feet. And she adapted a few trees to grow in shallow sea water, their physiology made to handle the extra salt and their trunk suspended above the water level by stilt-like roots so they would not have to fight against the ocean currents. Ashalla felt quite proud of her additions to this ecosystem.

As Ashalla swam onwards, she passed through a strait which seemed to have perpetual rain clouds. Across the strait was a large sandy island, the beaches held together by dune grasses. In the middle of this strait Ashalla found something quite peculiar sitting on the seafloor. It was a wooden box which tasted of Vakk’s essence. It was filled with water, so Ashalla could see that its interior was filled with intricate mechanisms of wood and metal. It was unlike anything Ashalla had ever seen before.

Ashalla opened the box’s lid, and when she did the mechanisms started to turn, but they appeared to struggle against the water’s drag. She closed the lid, lifted the box above the surface of the ocean, drained it of water, then opened the box once more.

A ripple washed over Ashalla as the notes began to play. There was something about the tone of each note, the harmonies of overlapping notes and the rhythms as the notes changed which made the music greater than the sum of vibrations in the air. The piece pulled on her metaphorical heartstrings and she was mesmerised by the beauty of it. It was like the birdsongs of Azura’s gemstone gardeners, yet meticulously crafted such that no note was out of place.

Ashalla listened to the music box for a long time, rain gently pattering around her. Eventually the sky began to darken and Ashalla was pulled out of her reverie. She reluctantly closed the lid of the box. She would have to find some place safe and dry to keep it. Ashalla continued swimming northwards, carrying the box above the waves.

She eventually reached the ocean north of Kalgrun, and the water here was much cooler. At higher latitudes, she even started noticing chunks of ice floating in the ocean. She inspected the frozen water, pondering its uses and admiring the abstract curves and shapes carved by the water and sun. As the sun came close to orbiting the horizon, Ashalla noticed that the seafloor was rising. Her curiosity piqued, she swam northwards until she found land at the top of the world.

The island was a couple hundred kilometers in diameter and was ringed by mountains. In its very centre was a stone spire which pierced the sky which glimmered with Azura’s signature colour. The barren ground had a patchy covering of snow and ice.

Ashalla looked at the island for a while. From where she was looking, it appeared quite utilitarian. She also noticed the blue sky shift, and realised that Azura must be present on the island. Ashalla thought she would pay her friend a visit and show her the music box she had found.

The ocean surged forwards and gathered on the shore. This wave continued to roll uphill in defiance of all known laws of hydrodynamics. Ashalla collected snow and ice from the ground and melted them into her form to supplement the water lost as she dragged herself across the ground. It was a tough climb up the mountain slopes, but Ashalla would not let something as mundane as a mountain stop her. Eventually she reached the top of the mountains, slithered through a mountain pass, then flowed downhill like a torrential river into the valley between the ring of mountains and the sky-piercing spire.

The valley was barren. Ashalla pooled in a depression as she drunk puddles of rainwater and snow and considered her next move. The central mountain was very steep and tall. While Ashalla would not have admitted it, climbing over the normal-sized mountains had been an ordeal, so climbing to the peak of this vast mountain would have taken a lot out of her. Ashalla considered calling Azura down to her when she noticed movement down in the valley.

It was a creature, if that word could be used, of floating stone and clouds. It was carrying a load of rocks and dust, which it dropped on a pile of more rocks before turning around and floating back the way it came. Another almost identical entity came with another load of rocks and did the same. As Ashalla watched, she saw a whole procession of these entities.

Curious, Ashalla approached the strange creatures, which did not react to her presence. A pseudopod of water reached out and brushed over one of the creatures, which recoiled from her touch before returning to its task as if nothing had happened. It tasted of Azura.

Ashalla stretched a head up to look along the procession, and noticed that they were coming from a ravine in the base of the mountain. Ashalla flowed past the procession and into the ravine. She traveled almost a kilometer from where the autonomous creatures were dumping their rubble loads, the walls of the ravine growing ever higher and ever closer together as she did so. The ground below her made of the same rubble the drones had been dumping outside, the creatures having clearly been pushing their deposit site further and further out of the ravine as more and more material had piled up, threatening to seal them in if they did not press on further and inadvertently reveal the location of their work to those like Ashalla. At first this uneven gravel pathway was slick with snowmelt that flowed slowly downhill, but as she approached the end this centimeters deep river was replaced first by snow proper, and then by ice, making the path a treacherous one for those who might walk it.

Eventually, after dodging several dozen drones Ashalla arrived at the end of the ravine. Above her the tops of the walls reached hundreds of meters above her and were but centimeters apart, having curved together until, here, they joined together. Past the final few meters, the now cave-like ravine was its end point, a bleak cliff face of stone into which a grand entryway had been carved, vast enough to accommodate even the most colossal of the Gods. The walls around the cavernous gateway were smoothly carved and engraved with wavy wind-like patterns that framed it and brought the eye to an engraving perched atop the entryway. There, carved in the language of the gods, was the name of this secluded tomb: The Vault of Souls.

As Ashalla approached the cavernous mouth of the Vault she felt more strongly what she realised she had been feeling softly during her whole approach- a gentle yet bitingly cold breeze emerging from the vault itself. Yet as the flow of air increased the flow of floating stone workers subsided. They where now found higher up, seemingly riding an air current that flowed in opposition to the one at surface level. Stretching a watery limb high up she discovered a warm breeze dragged into the depths of the tunnels and realised that the Vault, in a sense, breathed.

Beyond the entryway the smoothly curved tunnel travelled forwards a way before transforming into a staircase that plunged deeper below the mountain, the way down pitch black except for faint lights emanating from the stone workers who continued to ignore her presence. Ashalla paused to look down into the depths. There was a moment of hesitation, not from any sense that she might be trespassing, but rather on whether she would be able to climb back up after descending. Ashalla quickly overcame her trepidation and poured down the staircase.

It was unclear for just how long she descended the gargantuan staircase into the depths but as she did so it became clear that there was a light at the end of the tunnel, a soft glow similar to that emanating from the Vault’s curators. When she finally glided off that final step she became the first ever to see the depths of the vault, for it was a place its creator dared not venture. In the depths of the earth, below the north pole itself, was a vast tube shaped room that stretched up and down for kilometers. Around its outside where rings of walkways linked by a dozen sets of spiral staircases that all crept their way up and down its walls. All of these had sturdy stone banisters that warded human sized individuals from falling off, as well as columns of increasing thickness and decreasing frequency that would do the same for larger creatures. The Caretakers did not use these stairs, nor were they protected by the banisters, and yet they continued to carve them while extending the core of the vault ever deeper.

As Ashalla exited out into this near pitch black hub she was able to see, thanks to her godly dark vision, a series of carved plaques set into the nearest supporting pillar that described what was contained on each floor. Most of these were empty but those that were not contained descriptions in the format of: tunnel number, species categorization, date of arrival (denoted in days since creation) and name starting letter. The floor she was on for example contained, among many other things, "Tunnel 3: Mice, 0 - present, A-Z"

Looking along the walls of her floor Ashalla could indeed see a number of tunnels, each one with a number carved above it and a similar plaque set near its entrance. It was from these tunnels that the soft glow that just barely lit up the place emanated. Ashalla reached a tendril of water into one of the tunnels and looked inside. Into its wall were carved thousands of small shelves, each one housing a singular crystal. Below these shelves an inscription had been engraved on a small placard, consisting of a name, species, date of entombment, and a brief description akin to a obituary. Every single one of these Ashalla read pertained to some simple creature or plant. Every single one of their very simple descriptions, ones that were written in the manner a creature like the one it was describing might speak to a god, had ended suddenly and violently.

Ashalla picked up one of the crystals and tasted it. It was a soul, yet one given solid form. It was also very cold. Ashalla replaced the crystal and looked around the room and the vault once more. Azura had… frozen all these souls, if that was the right word. Souls of the dead, preserved forevermore. With nothing more worth seeing, Ashalla began the long climb back to the surface. As she climbed, she pondered why Azura might have done such a thing. Did she have some purpose for the souls? Was she considering using them as a power source, like she had done in the drones? Maybe she hoped to keep a record of the lives of all creatures on this planet. Ashalla wasn’t sure, but she could ask.

When she made it back to the surface, she called out to Azura, who was perched high above the clouds. "Hello, Azura. What have you made here?"

Ashalla got nothing but silence for a few long moments before she got a response in the form of a rapid-fire series of questions "Ashalla? What are you doing here? Where are you?"

"I’m down the bottom of this big mountain you made. I came to show you a music box I found but then I saw your floating-rock-cloud-creatures digging a hole in the mountain and found a bunch of frozen souls down the bottom." Ashalla twisted so her face had a better view up the mountain. "Did you want to come down and talk?"

"Oh dear," Azura said, followed by another lengthy pause. Eventually she added, "Yes. I’ll come and see you. Be with you in just a moment so sit tight."

As she peered up the mountain Ashalla saw a pair of large doors being thrown open on the vast twin ringed structure built around its peak, out of which the Colossal Bird Body of Azura emerged. The gates slammed shut behind her, after which Azura sailed around the blue in a few lazy circles until she seemingly spotted Ashalla, at which point she descended rapidly to the mountain's base. The Azura that landed just a little way away from her was a different compared to the one Ashalla had battled the storm haunting Veradax’s shadow with. Dust, damp and stray feathers marred her radiant plumage. She had bags under her eyes and they were also slightly red.

Ashalla noticed Azura’s weariness. The water of her form stretched out towards the big bird and licked Azura’s right wing. Ashalla tasted traces of blood and sap from mortal beings. "Have you been in a fight?" Ashalla asked, mildly concerned.

Azura tilted her head in confusion "Hmm? No… Not yet" she said before taking a moment to examine herself. "Hmmm. I am looking a little worse for wear I suppose. Haven't had much time for beauty sleep or preening lately." The massive bird shook herself, dislodging a few stray feathers and a touch of the grime, but it did little to improve matters. She looked away, perhaps a touch embarrassed at being seen in such a state, and ended up looking at the entrance to the ravine. "Ah, I can see how you found the Vault so easily," Azura commented as she watched another pile of rocks being thrown into to the slowly expanding gravel field. "I’ll need to do something about that. Can’t have just anyone snooping around in there." Azura locked her gaze firmly on Ashalla and said, "I need you to promise me that you won't speak a word of this to Katharsos or anyone who might let this slip to him."

For the second time in her existence Ashalla had been asked to promise something. Yet like the first time, she would not take making promises lightly. "Why should I promise that?" Ashalla asked.

The claws on one of Azura’s talons scraped against the ground pensively before she answered, "It could hurt me greatly if you told him. But I don’t even need you to lie for me though. Just don’t go out of your way to tell him of the vault and its contents for just a little while until I am ready to make this knowledge public. Please. I would be in your debt"

Ashalla rumbled thoughtfully. It did not appear to be a difficult promise which Azura asked. "Alright, I shall keep your secret," Ashalla said.

Azura breathed a sigh of relief, visibly releasing some of the tension that had gripped her since her arrival. Then she bowed her head and said, "Thank you Ashalla. I will remember this kindness," before raising back up and saying, "I also owe you an explanation my friend. What you just saw in the Vault of Souls was the results of my initial experiments into preserving souls by crystallizing them into a solid form after death to keep them from being pulled by the Vortex of Souls. So far I have only worked with simpler minds but I intend to work with more complex souls when I get the opportunity. My end goal is to prevent souls such as ours and those of mortals yet to come from being committed to Katharsos’s flame as those that came with us from the void were."

Ashalla pondered this for a moment before asking, "But why would you bother preserving mortal souls?"

Azura cocked her head once more as if the very question confused her, and then responded, "They are like us. They think, they feel. They love and learn. When I saw them up there in Katharsos’s Sphere I realised that were it not for the idle whims of the Architect we could have been in their place, lining up to be reduced to ash by a monstrous executioner. I also realised that if I had been one of them I would have fought my end with all my might with the hope that one of the gods was working to save me. By mere chance however I was that god Ashalla. I came to them in their hour of need. I tried to save them. I failed. I failed them all Ashalla. But I will not fail again!"

"So you identify with mortals. Interesting," Ashalla commented dispassionately.

"I empathise with them yes..." Azura responded, visibly disturbed by Ashalla’s lack of sympathy for the mortals’ plight.

"So what do you plan to do with the preserved souls? I noticed they could be used as a power source," Ashalla asked

Azura answered Ashalla’s question a touch sheepishly, "I uh, haven't really decided. Yes they can be used for power, the Curators’ simple souls take advantage of that fact, but I know I for one would not like to be used as a source of energy without my consent, so I do not intend to use those saved as such. I intend to discuss this with others in time, mortal and god alike, to create a suitable life after death for the souls that end up in my care. For the moment however the most important thing is to perfect the art so that all can be saved as soon as possible. What comes after is a concern for a later date."

Ashalla rumbled once more. She then decided to turn her attention to other matters. She pulled forwards the wooden box she had been carrying around and held it between her and Azura. "I found this on the bottom of the ocean," she said as she opened the box, allowing the melancholic tune to play.

"That’s an odd place to find such a thing," she responded before the music washed over her. She became calm, serenely so, a passivity that was broken infrequently by violent twitches which were quickly quelled by the perfect melody.

Ashalla’s face shifted to one of concern and confusion. "Is there something wrong, Azura? You are acting strangely."

"I’m fine," Azura responded calmly, "I’m just tired. And busy. Very busy." Then she flinched as if struck and then growled "Why are you here!" before serenity overtook her once more and she fell silent.

Ashalla closed the music box with a click and the music ceased. Azura shook her head but seemed to not have noticed that anything was amiss and instead simply commented idly that "The music was nice"

Ashalla then spoke. "As I swam here, I saw chunks of frozen water and had a few ideas. If you want to keep this place secret, then maybe some kind of physical barrier would help. A vast plain of ice and snow, perhaps."

"Hmmm." Azura seemed to ponder this for a few moments. "Yes that could work. Snow to cover the gravel, ice to hide the chilling of the area around the vault. I could modify the curators slightly. Make them only dump materials during snowfall perhaps." She nodded enthusiastically. "That would be a wonderful way to hide it. Bit like throwing a white sheet over it."

Ashalla rippled in excitement. "Excellent! I’ll get started right away," she declared before flowing up the slopes of the mountain range. "I’ll see you another time, Azura."

"Thank you so much Ashalla! That’s two I owe you now!" Azura shouted up after her.

Ashalla eventually made it over the mountains and back to the ocean. She drank deeply of the ocean’s vastness, replenishing lost water and expanding back out to a comfortable size. As soon as she was replenished, Ashalla deposited the music box on the shore of the island and receded into the ocean as she started the task of freezing over the north pole.

The mechanism of freezing water was simple enough. She just had to move energy from the water to the surrounding environment. Because the ambient temperature was already hovering around the freezing point of water, this was not especially difficult. Ashalla pulled half of her form out of the ocean and carried the water’s warmth with it, flash freezing a portion of the sea into a great ice floe topped with twisting pillars of ice. Ashalla continued her dance spiralling around the north pole, conjuring ice twisted into fantastical shapes.

She did not forget the north pole itself. While her original plans did not include moving ice onto land, Azura had requested it, and it was a simple enough addition. Ashalla drew herself up to mountainous heights and began hurling ice and water over the mountain range into the valley beyond. She could not actually see where the water and ice was landing, but she assumed it was probably fine provided she didn’t throw enough water to flood the valley and the Vault of Souls. She wanted to build a solid foundation for a thick layer of permafrost which would help conceal the contents of the valley. If the ice got in the way the Curators could just dig through it.

With what Ashalla believed to be enough ice deposited within the mountain range, she continued her dance around the north pole. As she progressed outwards, she got more creative with the ice formations she made. Where many of the formations were twisted bits of ice, she took a bit more care with a few sculptures. Some she twisted into elaborate abstract forms. A few she carefully formed to refract the light in dazzling ways. Others she carved into likenesses of living things. She made likenesses of each of the gods. Of Azura she made multiple sculptures. She also made sculptures of all the plants and animals she had seen, for she had a lot of space to work with. She even carved a few maps of places on Galbar.

There was no utilitarian purpose to these ice sculptures. They made the terrain harder to walk across, but such a goal could have been achieved with much simpler formations. Rather, Ashalla was loathe to create a blank and featureless ice sheet. With a new medium to explore and plenty of blank canvas to work with, it was only natural for her to experiment.

After many days of work, Ashalla had stretched the polar ice cap to over a thousand kilometers from the north pole. It was chilled by the Vault of Souls and by being only on the fringes of Heliopolis’ beam, so the ice cap would remain indefinitely, but it would shift and change over time for ice was not a durable material. The sculptures were ephemeral, although the lasting impact of Ashalla’s will meant that they would surely be replaced by other artistic forms as wind, sun and water carved the ice sheet.

Her work done, Ashalla swam underneath the ice sheet and burrowed up through the ice near the north pole to retrieve the music box. Although this was one possible place to store it, Azura’s strange reaction to the music box made Ashalla feel that this was a bad location to leave the box. She carried it with her as she swam southwards to warmer, more occupied waters. Perhaps she would find another home for it elsewhere.

“Ever kill a troll before?”

The voice was sandy with a highly inflected accent, giving it a suave and regal tone. It had come from a man dressed in plates of steel, the surfaces painted with charcoal to keep it from rusting. A sword hung from his hip and a heater shield was slung over his back. His face sported a jet black mustache over well tanned skin, the top of his head covered in loose curls.

“A Gjornenahabblestrjikn or two,” a much younger man answered. He wore the same outfit, yet his voice was very different, deep but youthful and energetic. His skin was a moon pool white, two blue eyes set in his face, his own black hair loose around his shoulders.

The pair of men stood, leaning over the railway of a small galley, the wash of the sea’s waves pushing up against the sides of the boat. Salty air whipped their hair behind them and billowed in the wide linen pants of the sailors that pushed the ship onward with long paddles. The brine coated their faces as equally as the two armored men’s suits.

“Yeah?” The accented one goaded, “I said ‘troll’ not Gjornenahabblestrjikn.”

“What’s the difference,” The blue eyed one didn’t bother to look up from the horizon.

“Not much,” The accented one picked at a loose fabric in the palm of one of his gloves, “but enough.”

“It’ll die,” Blue eyes nodded, “we’ll come back, there will be a party, I’ll dance with Swedren and you’ll polish your sword.”

He turned onto his shoulder so as to face the accented warrior, “just as always.”

The accented one raised a brow, “I don’t know about that… those Garthilian women, they can’t resist an accent.”

“It isn’t how you say, it’s what you say, and you’re better off a voiceless,” Blue eyes looked back over the horizon, “oh. You know what?”

“What?” The accented one turned from the horizon.

“Maybe you could ask the troll to the dance, as they frogs say, two birds one stone,” A small smile curved on the young soldier’s face.

“Oh yeah!” The accented one smacked the back of blue eye’s head, his voice mocking “as the frogs say, shut up and keep your tongue.”

Blue eyes gave a small snicker, “whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Sirs!” A sailor pointed ahead, “right there.”

Following the finger of the sailor, the two warriors could see a small atoll breaking from the mist of the sea, it’s dark rocky shores uninviting, gnashing like teeth as the waves rose and fell around it. Though small, a mighty hill rose from the atoll, dark and craggy with very little vegetation at all, save a few green patches with speckles of white.

“Sheep,” The Accented one noticed them.

“Sheep… sheep, isn’t that more of a giants thing?” Blue eyes turned to the accented one who simply rolled his eyes.

“Lots of jokes today, huh, Renevin?” the Accented one accused.

“They say, they say,” The blue eye’d Renevin nodded, “but Hondros, how can I possibly not be in a good mood after yesterday?”

The galley shook as it hit a sandbar, planks creaking, “no idea,” Hondros grunted, “up and over.”

With that the two vaulted over the side of the galley, their boots splashing into the chilly waters. The water rose to their stomachs as they waded the rest of the way. It was a slow trudge, and more than once they worried about being spotted, as if the troll leap from its hill and chase them down into the sea. The warriors remained quiet regardless, their lips pursed as they forced their way onto the dark rocks of the shore.

“If it wasn’t for the midday breeze and sun,” Renevin remarked, “I’d really hate this.”

“Could be warmer,” Hondros complained as he took the lead, his blade ringing out of its sheath. The length of the blade was covered in old runes and engravings, giving it a fearsome look, Renevin’s own blade seemed to match the style, but held different runes.

Before the two men was a long winding path, or at least it could be called path-like. The stones of the hill gave way where it had experienced the most trodding, coupled with a distinct lack of what sparse vegetation there was and rusted stains of victims past. With all these factors tied together, the pair had a good idea of what its purpose was.

Hondros and Renevin began their trek up the hillside, the rocks clambering underfoot, and the sea breeze biting into their soaked britches and padding. Sheep bayed in the distance and some gulls hawked nearby, but other than that the atoll held a certain silence that caused a shiver to run up the warriors’ spine, their fists white under their gauntlets as they held their blades. Hondros slid his shield onto his arm, Renevin following suit, as the ground began to level, the path now curving inwards towards the side of a rocky cliff-face.

As they began to turn the curve, the two noticed a dark impression in the face: a great gaping cave. Immediately the two shuffled to the cliff-face, their armored backs pressing against the rocky wall in fear of someone or something staring out from the cave. Hondros looked back at Renevin, who gave a curt nod. Slowly the two strafed the rock wall, edging their way closer and closer, until they were so close that Hondros could feel the cold earthy air exiting the cave on his face. Hondros gently extended his right arm, his shield tapping Renevin’s breastplate. Renevin nodded and the two sucked in a large breath before suddenly exploding into the entrance of the cave, their eyes quickly expanding as the darkness grew around them.

It was only a second, but a terrifying one, as their eyes adjusted. Too slow did their vision return to them, and as far as the pair was concerned, they wished it hadn’t. Before them was cruel paintings penned on the wall of the cavern. They could only imagine it was penned with a thick gnarled finger dipped in fresh blood. The entire cave stunk of rot and piss, making Hondros wonder by what magic he didn’t smell it sooner, and causing Renevin to stifle a gag.

In the center of the cavernous atrium was a crude, and most likely stolen, cast iron cauldron, limbs sticking out of its bubbling brew. Past it the cave continued into darkness, the gloomy stones not helping their eyes discern the depth. The pair gripped their weapons anxiously, and thoughts of the troll having followed them, playing them for fools entered their minds as they circled each other, making sure to keep each others backs accounted for when suddenly there was a muffle.

The warriors skidded on their heels as they turned to the sound. A lump moved in the shadows -- much too small to be a troll. Renevin bumped his shoulder off of Hondros and the pair moved forward as one, shields up front and center. The figure shivered and backed up against the cavern wall as the two approached, causing them to slow down.

Renevin squinted, the figure of a ragged and beaten woman entering his vision. Her hands were tied together in a rope made out of ligaments whose origin he didn’t want to think about, but more pressing was her leg. He noticed a large dry stain of blood on her calves as well as a festering near the sides of her knees.

“Must be one of the women from Urryl,” Hondros all but whispered.

“Hamstrung,” Renevin croaked past the smell of the cavern. The warrior knelt down, lowering his weapon, the woman whimpered and he placed his sword on the ground, showing a peaceful palm. Hondros’ gut clenched and he kept his shield and sword ready, standing behind his crouched companion.

“Urryl?” Renevin coaxed as comfortingly as possible, inciting a rapid nod from the woman.

“We are the Praxian Storm Guard,” Renevin gave a small smile, “we’ll get you out of here-”

A metallic slam echoed throughout the cavern as a massive knotted club slammed into Hondros, sending the warrior across the floor, his armor grinding against the stone as he skidded. Renevin slapped his hand onto the handle of his sword and spun to meet his foe, sword and shield ready.

There before him was a hulking beast of blotted skin, rope like muscle, and yellow stained eyes. It stood nearly twice his height and hefted a gnarled club stained a rusty red. Crude cutting tools were tied around its naked waist, and without missing a moment, the troll attacked.

Renevin ducked under the swinging club and brought his sword to bear, but before he could connect, one of the troll’s beefy arms slapped him back. The warrior managed to maintain his footing, his reactions just barely kicking in as he leapt out of the way from another swing of the heavy club. This time the soldier had enough space to quickly cleave his blade into the arm of the troll, the sword sinking deep into the fatty flesh, down to the white of the bone.

The troll howled and backhanded Renevin, the blade still stuck in its arm. The soldier was sent flying backwards, the impact lifting him off his feet. He slammed into the ground, his back cracking from the impact and his shield arm smacking into the wall with a loud clang. From pain squinted eyes he saw a shadow move behind the troll, and suddenly the flash of Hondros’ blade caught his attention.

Caught unaware, the troll never saw Hondros get back up, his blade cutting deep across the back of the trolls knees. Dark blood oozed out from the hamstring and the troll hollered in pain. Renevin jumped to his feet, ignoring the shocking pain throughout his body, and before the troll could react, Renevin expertly lunged his sword under the arm of the troll, the muscle snagging his blade as it slipped through the armpit and ribs, and right into the heart.

The troll roared, but it quickly turned to a gurgle as Hondros sunk his own blade into the back of the troll, piercing a lung. Renevin ripped his sword free and then slammed its point into the troll’s throat, forcing a gush of scarlet from the meaty beast and bringing it to the floor.

Renevin’s blade slipped out as the troll came crashing down, and for a moment or two it simply convulsed on the ground before turning stiff and still in a pool of its own. Hondros let out a long breathe and immediately glared at Renevin, “the ARM!?”

“Out of every part of this fat thing and you go for the arm?”

“It was in my wa-” Renevin shook his head, “-the girl!” Hondros snapped to and the pair rushed to the huddled over woman.

In the gloom of the cavern they saw her shivering form, a sense of relief washing over them. Renevin’s blade rasped as he shoved it back into its scabbard and slung his shield over his back. Kneeling down towards the woman he spoke softly, “we are going to take you away from here, bring you back home.”

Her chin wobbled, and the pair couldn't tell if it was a nod or from her silent sobbing. Renevin furrowed his brow and slide his arms under the ragged woman, dried ooze scraping against the metal that covered his arms. She was much lighter than he expected, but that was hardly a comfort as he hefted himself upright, his new ward safely in his arms. The trio made their slow retreat from the cave, Hondros taking a brief second to look back at the scene, the cauldron still bubbling. His nose scrunched and with little word the group exited the killing grounds.

Immediately the group was met with fresh sea air, their lungs expanding greedily and expelling the gruesome stink of the cave. The midday sun stung their eyes briefly as they readjusted to the outside world, Renevin’s gaze stuck on the woman in his arms. She was scrawny, the bumps of her neck and collar pressing against her bloodied skin. Her dress was in tatters and stuck to her in crispy wafers, and despite being free from the cave, Renevin couldn’t help but smell the bubbling cauldron in her web-like hair. Despite all this, her eyes were alert and open, her breathing quick.

Renevin looked up at Hondros who gave him a worried look, but without a word the two carried on, making their way back down the hill as swiftly and safely as they could. The sheep paid them no mind as they skidded across, no new threats emerged, and yet the soldiers couldn’t help but feel a well of anxiety grip their throats.

Her breathing seemed to slow as they approached the waters, and the pair’s pace quickened. The water bit into their legs once more, and her eyes closed. The waves lapped at their waists and they pushed as fast as they could. Renevin held the woman as high above his chest, suffering the consequence of getting a noseful of the stench, his own eyes closing as to avoid her bristled hair, only to open at the sound of the galley creaking against the waves.

Hondros grabbed the railing of the boat and with a few helpful tugs from the sailors, lifted himself over the side and onto the deck with a wet slam. Turning he offered his hands down to Renevin, “give her to me.”

Renevin looked up with a sad look, “She’s gone.”

Hondros narrowed his eyes, “what?”

“How? How do you know?” Hondros furrowed his brow, “hand her up.”

Renevin shifted her in his arms, bringing his gauntlet to his face and biting the leather finger, tugging it off his hand. Taking his now bare finger he pressed it into her stretched, limp neck. He sucked in a salty breath and waited, only for a darkness to take over his eyes. Shaking his head up at Hondros. The older soldier pursed his lips.

“Let her go.”

Renevin looked up at the soldier quizzically who answered, “she’s been enslaved in that cave for her final moments, she deserves freedom in death.”

Renevin peered down at the dead woman in his arms, expelling a sad breath. Gingerly the soldier lowered the body in the water, the weak form floating on the waves. Her hair expanded around her like a halo and Renevin looked up at Hondros, he opened his mouth to speak but said nothing before closing it again. The older soldier nodded in understanding. Gently Renevin pushed he body away from the boat, the new sea angel slowly making her way to a watery freedom. Without much else, the younger soldier heaved himself over the rail, landing on the deck of the galley.

He turned to Hondros who in turn turned to the sailors, “headway to Ylldyn.”

---

K’nell sighed as he peered into a strange translucent orb. With little fuss, the God of Dreams placed the item on a pedestal next to his throne, and leaned back into his seat.

“Interesting.”

Parvus
____

After his conversation with Kalmar, Parvus returned into the depths of the Hive. He first went to a cavernous room with stone walls. He took the picture which Li had given him and placed it on one of the walls. A waxy substance emerged from his hand and sealed it in place. He snapped his fingers, and bees begin to swarm into the room, and immediately begin to create a new nest in the center of the room. A new task has been inscribed into the being, preserve.

He continued down the winding corridors of his realm until he found himself in front of his apple tree. Under its branch, he silently chanted a prayer, as though a force of habit.

While he still needed to perform his task of spreading life, he decided to rest underneath his tree to contemplate. He started to seriously consider how he should handle a god who was a threat to either himself or Galbar. He needed to have a good position in order to challenge other gods. Simple ecosystems allowed him to expand his influence. However, he would need more. Creating a complex creature, like alligators, was difficult for him. He would need to do something to alleviate that issue whenever he had the chance. An assistant could be helpful.

As for disabling gods, it seemed the most reasonable course of action is severing them from their sphere to weaken them and then imprison them. However, saying it was more simple than achieving it. He would need to better understand the relationship between gods and their domains. He also considered potential, vacant spheres. If they existed, he might be able to convert one into a prison. However, he would need to make sure this wouldn't offend the Architect or the other gods. There was so much to consider. The plan was not without any merit but was very uncertain. However, he needed something concrete to try to slow Kalmar, and hopefully prevent him from doing something foolish.

He laid under his apple tree, consumed by his thoughts and attempting to fight off unpleasant memories.

There had been no dream - Shengshi’s mind had been too broken to even reach the Palace. The snake’s crusted eyes cracked open, revealing a pair of bloodshot, stone grey orbs each adorned with one empty reptilian iris. Some time passed before the snake actually perceived the light passing through these irises - it was vast and blue, lit by one distant orb of yellow fire and complemented by a smaller, blueish orb that appeared almost crystalline, both sticking awkwardly to the blue surface like flies in a web. He let out a long, dry groan.

The snake god felt his head pump and rush like a heart as his mind desperately ordered the rest of his body to react. A moment passed and the snake felt his sensations return, though he promptly wished they had not. Unlike his eyes, the snake’s tongue had been spending one too many hours in open air and had thusly pruned up quite spectacularly; he raised an agonising hand to his nose and found that it still remained, which was odd seeing as the snake could neither feel it nor breathe through it; finally, the snake god found that his abdomen had been left underneath all the barrels from the night before and that his tail was now severely lacking in all manner of bodily fluids. He lifted his back, sounding the crackling cacophony of a crooked cord straightening out, and let out a pained yelp. He lifted a stiff arm to his face and dragged a sticky palm across his groggy features. Upon pulling his hand away, he noticed visible traces of all the colours of the alcoholic rainbow on his skin - from grape red to vomit green.

“Xi… Xiaolih…” he rumbled.

There was a long, empty pause.

“Xiaoli!” he repeated, his voice sparking a hint of frustration. He curled himself forward enough to achieve something one could generously refer to as stability and placed his head in a dry palm. He cursed mentally. Where was that damn girl? Had she and the mortal fallen asleep together inside the palace, perhaps? He had to investigate.

With reluctance and resistance, the snake’s body manage to raise the creature to a standing position. He shook his face until his cheeks wobbled and blew his nostrils clean. He poked the crusts out of his eyes and slowly slithered towards the palace in a zig-zagging manner. By the Architect, he would give her such a scolding. How could she have left her master to sleep on the deck, like some drunken scum? He had evidently been too kind with her. He took a quick detour to the railing to purge his guts of the remains of yesternight’s feast. However, upon looking back up, the snake’s eyes widened.

The ship was no longer surrounded by vague excuses for grass, but the horizon was green and rich with illuminated foliage, and the skies were black with birds. How long had he slept?!

“Xiaoli! Where are you?!” he roared once more, charging up to his chambers, all pain and discomfort forgotten in the moment. The stairs became a blur underneath the racing god; the doors, mere paper before the rampaging beast. His beautiful gates were violently ripped from their hinges as Shengshi quite literally burst into the room, scanning his uncharacteristically clean chambres with desperate eyes. They were empty.

The stairs once more became a blur as he stormed under deck and inspected the every room he could think of down there; afterwards, he searched every guest room.

Not a single soul to be found.

After nearly a day of turning his entire ship on its head, Shengshi hopped off and into the river, swimming its entire length several hundred times over the course of the rest of the day. He flanked the river on each side on foot the following day.

“To think one so close to me would simply evaporate like so…” he said and shot Heliopolis a scowl. Maybe she actually had…

He promptly shook his head. A silly hypothesis. It was not nearly hot enough.

“Then perhaps… An assassin!” he proclaimed and grabbed at his chest. Such tragedy, such horror! To think his dearest Xiaoli had so suddenly been sent to that funny cat. Oh, what a horrid fate!

He shook his head again. “No, that cannot be it. I am certain I would have felt something.” He begun to ascend the closest mountain. Alright, so… She was not dead - that was certain. Then had she perhaps been kidnapped?!

The snake let out a vicious snarl and raised his fist into the air. The nerve! He had invited a guest into his home and she had kidnapped his most prized servant! He slithered atop the peak and raised both hands into the air, clenching his fists.

“Curse you, mortal! A thousand, ten thousand bitter curses from the bleakest void be cast upon your petty soul!” He keeled forward and let out a few heavy pants. A faint and rare, yet oddly familiar sensation tickled at his eyes and the god reached a clawed finger to his face. He retracted it and inspected the glistening orb dangling from his clawtip - a tear, clear and pure as thin, fresh ice, yet murky with sorrow and solitude. His eyes rapidly spawned more and the snake collapsed onto his tail, casting his blurry gaze at the many droplets crashing against his palms and the cold stone below. He wrapped his arms around himself and let out a quiet wail that promptly morphed into hacking hulks.

“I-...” He snorted. “This… Is my fault…” He let out another wail. “I am… I am scum!”

A sudden clash of scale against flesh echoed through the immediate air. Shengshi snorted again and rubbed his sore cheek. Then he struck himself again.

“You -fool-! You utter, impudent lizard!” he snarled at himself and slapped his jaw once more. “You tell her you will change your ways… You tell her the future will be different… And what do you do?!” His hand lost momentum and fell down against the dirt. The snake collapsed onto his elbows and hammered against the stone with clenched fists, sending gentle ripples through the mountain.

“You reveal to her nothing but the hypocrite within.”

There was a long pause, broken only by the occasional sulk. Shengshi turned his murky eyes to his fists once more and examined the cracks they had struck into the immediate stone around him. He snickered coldly to himself.

“I see… Even as I rage against my own folly, I simultaneously destroy that which is around me.” He stroked gently at the stone cracks. “My hubris, my arrogance, my impulses…” He hummed pensively. “They are all part of me, yet undesirable parts - scum to be scraped off…”

He curled up his tail and sat himself comfortably on top of it. “-... Or is it the cream that should be skimmed off? Parts so integral to my being that they should be savoured - desired even!” He looked down into the river valley below, his home glistening on the stream like a nugget of gold in a beck.

“I mean, gaze upon what I have created! I should naturally be allowed a smidge of pride!”

He snickered. “Yet I confess - I may possibly, once or twice, under certain circumstances, be a little vexing, perhaps.” He scratched his chin. “Yet are those traits truly undesirable - is a prideless god a worthy one? Is the meek creator one to be respected? Are the impulses to be repelled?”

He shook his head. “It is clear that none of these hold true - a god who cannot take pride in its work will forever be hated by its inadequate creations; no sane creature would ever respect a creator with no spine; and an existence without impulse is empty.” He rose up and looked into the sky.

“And yet… And. Yet, the inadequacy holds true for the opposite.” He took a deep breath and sighed. “The Flow carries no inherent message of balance…” He closed his eyes. “However, the rivers adapt to the world around. I used to despise the idea of conflict, yet I have caused it on several occasions - all because I failed to adapt.”

Shengshi looked around at the stone surface below. It flattened out in his immediate area, but the peak upon which he stood was flanked by plateaus and points on all sides, with rolling hills and crevices flowing outwards from the mountain’s foot below. Far below, the bioluminescent woodlands and its inhabitants flourished all around the island. He felt his heart pulse warmly at the sight. His project’s subjects - the creations to which he would bring prosperous harmony in time.

“For that, however, I must adapt.” He waved his hands and a brush blackened with ink popped into his right hand; in his left hand appeared a stack of rice paper sheets. The snake hummed for a moment and begun to write.



He dipped his brush in a floating orb of ink he had summoned and reached for a second page.



Another dip of ink and change of paper coloured the otherwise dull soundscape.



Shengshi punctuated the final page with his personal stamp and put it on top of the two others. He read through his work again and hummed ponderously. Yes… This would be his work - his gift to the mortals upon their arrival. His Classic of Wisdom - his philosophy and the concept of the Flow condensed onto paper for all to read and evaluate. However, this was merely a first draft of a manuscript - there was much work to be done.

The snake took the pages and rolled them together before securing them with a few strands of his black hair. With scroll in hand, he descended the mountain. However, he stopped halfway down and scanned the forested lands below, its dim illumination barely visible in the light of Heliopolis. He rubbed his chin and gazed back up at the admittedly barren mountains. These would need some colours, too, though the bright kind that melts and forms those nice little tributaries.

He snapped his fingers and grinned. These mountains would be the source of this island’s fresh water. All would drink deeply in the cleanest water from the peaks, and the rivers would be both populated by and flanked with all manners of creatures that could live in both cold mountains and warmer waters. Yes, he had laid his plan - now to execute it.

Shengshi raised his arms. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a rumble, several tons of water from the lakes and rivers below rushed up to their master in the form of colossal pillars. The snake waited until the pillars had grown girthy and rich, then clapped his hands together, sending the pillars at a colliding trajectory right above the mountain’s peak. The waters crashed against one another, sounding a frightening-... Poof?

What fell from the heavens was not water at all - no destructive flood or deadly wave - but snow. Tons of snow fell across all the mountains on the island, colouring them a beautiful white. Once the snake was satisfied with the amount of snow, he twisted his hands. The white dunes around him began to shake and quiver. Then, they erupted to reveal all manners of hairy, furry creatures of varying sizes. A few of them trundled over to the slowly forming streams towards the lower edges of the snow blanket and made futile attempts to jump in; others hopped and skipped around in the white heaps, ecstatic to be alive. They slowly began to spread out across the mountain range, their wide paws and thick-skinned webbed feet keeping them from falling through the feeble ice layer on top of the snow.

The snake grinned. Asceal would love this! Lots of bright surfaces to reflect even the dimmest of light. A strange, woolly creature came over to the snake and rubbed its horned head against its creator affectionately. The snake raised his eyebrow at the creature and patted it carefully. It bleated happily before pulling away and hopping off. Shengshi noticed that it was particularly woolly around its wide hooves, no doubt to keep itself warm as it swam through his rivers. Another one of the snake’s creations, a small furry frog, ribbited quietly as it hopped into the snow and swam through it as if it was water.

“Ah… Adaptability,” the snake said contently. Now that the rivers were beginning to form, he hopped into one and swam his way down the mountain. He would have to keep looking for Xiaoli, but at least now he had calmed himself.

Somewhat.

The golden flash dissipated as Hermes and her new traveling companion zipped through. Very quickly the sight of a crystal floor popped into her vision and if not for her sandals, she might have seen it even closer. With a whiplash halt, Hermes now hovered gently above the colourful yellow swirl of crystal that was the floor, her arms tight around Xiaoli. The girl’s sandy cheeks blushed in a pinkish hue as she hugged tightly back.

“Wha-” The mortal began to say as her eyes darted every which way, taking in all the details of her sudden occupancy. Where there had only been sky she now found herself smack in the center of a massive circular chamber seemingly hewn from a single crystal. The walls were a translucent blue which contrasted with pale yellow supports that extended from the similarly coloured floor. The supports rose along the edges of the room to support a vast vaulted dome overhead. High above them, at the peak of the dome, a golden portal shimmered.

Hermes gently floated to the floor, her sandals making the tiniest clapping sound as she landed. Freeing her arms from Xiaoli, she brandished her iron club, heaving it over her shoulder as she looked around, “it’s very pretty.”

However, it seemed Xiaoli clasped on for a few seconds before she realised she had been let go of. She instinctively pulled back and hid her gradually blushing face behind her long sleeve and looked away.

“S-... Sorry…” she said warily and took the opportunity to look around the room. She shuffled quietly over to the chamber wall and gently ran her sandy palm across the surface, leaving some barely visible skidmarks. She recoiled a little and looked at her hand, letting out a soft sigh.

“It is beautiful, yes, but… Is this perhaps her home?” she said absent-mindedly. She strolled around a little longer, examining the blue walls and yellow pillars. “Can this be Her Holiness Asceal’s realm, I wonder…”

“Who, now?” Hermes and Poppler trailed Xiaoli with the attention of a puppy, poking and prodding everything in sight with both finger, cloud and -- albeit gently -- Hermes’ club.

“Her Holiness Asceal, goddess of light. She told me the waygate to her home was not far from the Jiangzhou-...” She paused and suddenly appeared anxious, peering at the portal. “Oh, my lord, what have I done?” She squatted down and put her face in her hands. “I left without asking my master! How could I be so-...!” Her ramblings trailed off into a quiet self-scolding.

Hermes looked down at her new friend and frowned,” It’s okay, I go traveling all the time.”

Poppler gently landed on top of Xiaoli’s head, as if to comfort the girl. “Besides,” Hermes continued, “Shengshi was asleep, you were awake, and he was being all weird. If you never experience things yourself then what good is it all?”

“... But… My purpose to…” She wiped away a tear and looked up to see the underbelly (if one could call it that) of the little cloudling. She gave it a soft pat and forced a smile through her otherwise somber demeanour. “No, no, you are right, my friend. I-... I cannot let my work get in the way of my life… Even if my work -is- my life… Oh, what am I going to dooo!” As a new wave of despair made its way through the girl’s body, she suddenly froze and poked a finger in the direction towards the other side of the room, where there was a darker part to the floor.

“A way down…” she sniffed.

A worried face broke across Hermes’ face, only to be quickly replaced with a curious one. Turning from her sad friend she squinted in the direction of her finger, “Do… do you wanna go check it out?”

“Because we can go home,” Hermes muttered, trying to hide her excitement at the discovery, “if you really wanted to.”

Xiaoli immediately snapped to, sped over to Hermes and grabbed her free hand, squeezing it tightly with both of her own. “No! No, we are -not- going home yet! Like you said, I have to…” She took a deep breath. “I have to experience things.”

A wide smile broke across Hermes’ face, “okay!” Her excitement was no longer barred as she jogged towards the stairwell, being mindful of her speed and the clinging Xiaoli, Poppler zipping along with them.

With an adventurous energy the group made their way down the spiral staircase. Stairs seemed to hug the outside of the tower and though the world beyond was obscured by the translucent crystal of the walls enough light bled through that the group never encountered so much as a shadow during their descent. Each step was longer than it was tall in a way that made the walk long and leisurely, but before long they’d reached the bottom. A simple arched doorway greeted them there.

Beyond it was a place unlike any on Galbar. A walkway of transparent crystal extended from the tower and into a seemingly endless forest of glowing porcelain vines. Massive trunks made from tens of thousands of interwoven vines erupted from a great pool of water below and rose up to grasp not just the tower they had emerged from, but every structure they could see. Countless walkways, platforms, and staircases stretched out in all directions. All were supported by the vines.

And in the distance, just near enough as to not be obscured by the forest of vines, was a vast palace of crystal. Glassy spires, some a deep red and others a pale blue like the tower, rose high above a massive and intricate edifice that sat atop dozens of the massive trunks of vines.

Amidst the maze like network of walkways there was no clear way to the palace, not even from so close. Thankfully though, they didn’t have to walk. Knowingly, Poppler suddenly zipped into Hermes’ knotted hair and without any more warning, the mortal snagged Xiaoli and suddenly they rocketed forward, weaving through the vines with little issue.

In less than a handful of seconds, the tiny group of adventurers hovered gently to the ground once again, but this time with a massive crystal palace right in front of their faces. The amazing light it gave off left Hermes in a state of gaped mouth awe, her eyes like saucers. Xiaoli first adjusted her dress and brushed off some pollen and vines and then followed Hermes’ example, taking in the sights with wide eyes and slack jaw.

“It’s very pretty,” She managed, “I like it a lot.”

“A very concise and precise evaluation,” Xiaoli agreed quietly. “It is indeed beautiful beyond measure… Almost more beautiful than…” She shot some suspicious glances left and right and quietly whispered, “... Jiangzhou.” She giggled at first, but then cast her sight at her feet and mumbled something resembling regret and a fear of harsh punishment if her master ever heard her say that.

Poppler crackled as he flew circles around Xiaoli, Hermes giving her a worried look before walking closer to the palace. As she approached the entrance the forest around her began to shiver. Great masses of shifting vines produced a rustling that slowly grew from a whisper to a deafening roar. With that roar, or perhaps in it, was the speech of a disembodied voice, “Who are you?” It questioned the group, “Why are you here?”

Instantly Poppler went on the defensive, crackling lowly as it circled his group. Xiaoli cowered behind Hermes, and Hermes gripped her club tightly, her eyes darting in every which direction. Her jaw relaxed and she spoke, her voice as cheerful as ever, in spite of her intense look, “I am Hermes, this is Poppler, and this is Xiaoli, and we are here…”

She thought for a moment, her eyes squinting “By accident?”

Xiaoli popped her head out from behind her companion and straightened herself up. She bowed deeply in the direction that seemed to make the most sense, considering the voice was omnipresent. “In a way, yes, since Hermes did not know about the gateway to this place; however, Her Holiness Asceal did tell me how to find it, so perhaps we came here by guided hand after all,” Xiaoli said and shrugged a little.

Almost instantly the forest's roar faded to nothing and from the opposite direction of Xiaoli’s bow, behind the group, a feminine voice sounded, “So you were invited, but you came by accident?” The speaker paused before asking skeptically, “You’re sure that’s what you want to go with?”

Xiaoli jumped and turned around. “Well,” she said and giggled nervously, “it is the truth!” Her eyes fixed upon the form behind them and widened. Before her was a woman who seemed to have been born from the same vines which made up the forest that stretched in every direction around them. Her features resembled Hermes and Xiaoli’s, save for the fact that her face looked like a sculpture made from thin white vines. In truth, her whole body appeared to be made from the foliage. All that distinguished her from a pretty shrub was that she was moving. That and her eyes. Set below two raised ‘eyebrows’ were the vine woman’s glowing eyes, a pair of blue orbs that shone with intelligence. Xiaoli felt her cheeks redden at the sight and looked away.

”Zzt!”

Poppler dashed over to the new addition to the scene, the cloud form gently bumping into her vines as if in search of something, leaving little dew droplets wherever it tapped her. Hermes gave a wide cheshire smile, now seeing who she was talking with, “Yep! Xiaoli was invited, but we showed up by accident.”

”Pop!”

“Poppler!” Hermes hissed at the cloudling. Xiaoli giggled behind her sleeve, letting her eyes once again glance at the vine woman’s every shape and form.

“You must be Liana, then. It is an honour to meet you.” She bowed again, this time towards the considerably more tangible target in front of her. “We hope we are not intruding,” she said softly, straightening back up to wink at the vine woman.

Liana’s eyes flicked between the little cloud prodding her, the pale woman with the spiral on her forehead, and the oddly formal girl. Her lips twitched and she burst into laughter, “And just when I was getting bored!” She shook with humor and gestured to the palace, “Well come on in! I’d love to hear the story of how you managed to blunder into the gateway, honoured guests.”

“Well I was just moving and then I was here!” Hermes said between matching laughs, making her way to the palace. Xiaoli followed suit, clapping her hands excitedly.

“That is the thing about moving,” Liana chuckled knowingly as she followed Hermes, “You always seem to end up somewhere else, don’t you?”

“Well that’s the only thing with moving,” Hermes gave Liana a quizzical look, as Poppler continued his inspection. The Dreamer paused and smiled wide, “so what do you like to do?”

“What do I like to do?” Liana pursed her lips in thought and stopped before she stepped inside the palace. She looked back and pointed to one of the closer trunks of twisted vines. As if in response the trunk sprouted a number of smaller vines that moved with a life of their own, weaving themselves into a peculiar shape. Before long the vines stilled and staring back at the the group of women was a statue of Hermes.

Liana grinned, “I like that. What about you?”

Hermes stared in appreciation of the statue, taking note of its intricate yet botanic detail, “ I like it too,” she said before thinking in silence. Turning to Liana she shrugged, “well, eating is kinda stressful, and flying is really fun, but my favorite thing to do is dream.”

“Oh!” She pointed a finger, suddenly remembering, “and making friends.”

Hermes nodded as she followed Liana into the palace, Poppler now on her head, “can't forget that.” Xiaoli chuckled behind her sleeve.

“She is quite good at it too, in my opinion,” she added with a nod and a pointed in Hermes’ direction with a folded arm. She took in the sights along the palace halls. Before her was a long hallway sporting walls adorned with abstract mosaics of coloured crystal. The mosaics covered every inch of the walls, save for the arched doorways to other rooms, and all took the form of complicated geometric patterns. Above was a barrel roof from which hung floating planters of glowing vines. “This really is a beautiful home, lady Liana. Did you adorn it yourself?” Xiaoli asked.

“Oh yes,” Liana said wryly, “I just waved my hands and did all this myself.”

Both Hermes’ and Xiaoli’s eyes shone with inspiration. “My, how extraordinarily talented you are! The statue you made was a wonderful demonstration, too! Your master must be so proud of you!” Xiaoli proclaimed warmly.

Liana stared at Xiaoli and stifled a laugh, “That was a joke, Xiaoli.” She gestured to the enormous and intricate mosaics around her, and asked, “How would I even be able to make something like this? I’m not a god, you know.”

Xiaoli froze in her excitement and stood slack-jawed for a moment. She then closed her eyes and took a deep breath through the nose and then nodded, perhaps a little somberly. At the sight, Hermes gave a quizzical look, augmented by a curious Poppler crackling.

“Indeed, you are not. Your essence is different, now that I think about it,” Xiaoli said and sighed quietly. However, promptly thereafter, she flashed a smile once again. “No matter,” she said, “for godhood is not a requirement for good company. Speaking of, would you mind showing us around for a bit?”

“My what?” Liana eyed Xiaoli questioningly, but continued with a shrug, “And of course. I should warn you there’s not much to see beyond the palace though. Or even in it, really. I was getting pretty bored before you two arrived.”

“Is that so,” Xiaoli inquired. “Well, we brought ourselves, if you would have us. I also brought some tea, I think. Pardon me for a spell…” She rummaged through her dress and belt. After half a minute had passed, she extracted a small leather pouch from her sleeve and showed it to the others.

“This is all that I brought - it will make about two pots, I reckon, so we have drink for when we get thirsty or just want something to savour.” She winked playfully at the two.

Hermes suddenly looked stressed, Poppler landing on her head, “as long as there aren’t any more rules.”

“I’m really starting to understand Narzhak’s view of things,” She whispered to Poppler.

”Pop!”

“Tea?” Liana turned from Xiaoli to Hermes, her confusion apparent, “And rules? There are rules for drinking tea? Why would drinking come with rules?”

Xiaoli prodded her cheek ponderously. “Well, there are scores of rules, actually! A proper tea ceremony is indeed founded upon the very concept of strict rules to make for the most refined experience. Of course, that mainly applies to the tea master - the guests are considerably freer.”

Hermes put a stiff hand on Xiaoli’s shoulder and gave a disarming smile, “Why don’t we all be free?”

Xiaoli chuckled hesitantly and put squeezed the hand on her shoulder softly. “W-well… Freedom is nice, sure, but…” She took a deep breath. “... Rules can be nice, too, no? It makes everything a little more orderly, after all.”

“But it’s just drinking,” Hermes furrowed her brow, “what could go wrong?”

“It’s not just-!” Xiaoli burst out, but promptly recomposed herself. “Pardon me - what I meant to say was, naturally, it is-...” She paused and frowned, “-just drinking, but the ceremony allows for a much more intricate experience, no? One has time to chat and savour the flavours of the tea. Yes, the ceremony has no intrinsic value, but… It’s just nice, alright?” Her eyes grew wide and pleading and her lower lip stuck out slightly.

Hermes narrowed her eyes and then looked at Liana and then back at Xiaoli, Poppler crackling between them all, “Okay, for the experience.”

“Um,” Liana’s befuddled expression shifted to one of concern, “Sure? I’m still not sure what tea is, but sure. If it’s supposed to be enjoyed I think there’s a better place for that than the hallway, though.” She looked around and pointed out a small door through which a staircase was visible, “There’s a balcony on the second level. Would that work?”

“Oh, anywhere would work! All we need is a low table, somewhere to heat water and a nice atmosphere,” Xiaoli chortled. “Lead the way, my lady.” She queued up behind her, inciting Hermes and Poppler to do the same as they awaited the vine-woman’s guidance.

“Will do,” Liana smiled and made her way to doorway. She gestured for the two to follow her before stepping through. Inside was a spiral staircase not unlike that which had greeted Hermes and Xiaoli in the tower, but this one was far shorter. At the top was a hallway identical to the one they’d come from. The only thing that distinguished the second floor from the first was the fact that every door on the side opposite of them seemed to lead to a small balcony overlooking the Lustrous Garden.

Liana led them through one of those. The semicircular balcony jutted out of palace and, due to its clear crystal floor and railing, gave the group the impression they were floating. Liana stepped up to the railing and leaned against it. She looked out at the endless forest of vines and the walkways they supported before turning to face Xiaoli, “You said you needed water, right?”

Xiaoli nodded. “A heat source and a kettle would be very nice, too, if you could.”

“Hm,” Liana scratched her head in thought. The thin vines that made up her hair parting as her fingers worked. From her position at the edge of the balcony she looked down at the watery surface far below. In the distance a long branch of vines twisted its end into the shape of a bowl. It scooped up the water and then rose. It took a while, moving carefully so as to not spill its burden, but before more than a minute had passed a large bowl full of water had been deposited at the center of the balcony. The bowl detached from the end of the vine and the long limb then went about shaping itself into three chairs before detaching each. Liana carried them to her new friends and grinned, “Water, and chairs!”

”Zzt!” Poppler quickly submerged himself in the bowl of water, forcing a chuckle out of Hermes.

Liana sat on the chair she’d made for herself and froze as a look of realization dawned on her face. Sheepishly, she looked to Xiaoli, “What’s a kettle, again?”

“Oh, a kettle is like a teapot - only larger and made of something slightly more fire-resistant! Here, let me show you.” Xiaoli picked up a nearby rock from a flower bed. She pulled and stretched it as if it was putty and fashioned it into a makeshift kettle, which she promptly filled with water from the bowl.

“Fantastic! Now a heat source!”

Liana looked at Xiaoli’s demonstration slack-jawed. She glanced at Hermes (who was busy poking Poppler) and back to Xiaoli before asking, “Uh, are you a god?”

Xiaoli stared for a moment, then burst out into a loud cackle, which she swiftly bottled up into a giggle. “No, no, not a god, dear. I am… Well, I am divine, but I am a mere fragment of my master’s holiness. He blessed me with the power to act in his stead, should the need arise. As such, I have been blessed with certain powers.” To demonstrate, she opened her palm. Some water from the bowl skipped out much to Poppler's dismay and begun to dance around in her hand before first turning into ice, then into steam, then back into water - all in the span of a few seconds.

“They can do that? And she didn’t?” Liana pouted for a moment before breaking out into her own laugh. She pointed at Xiaoli’s hand, “So you can do that, but you’re asking me for a heat source?”

The vine woman raised her eyebrows and chuckled, “That’s not fair!”

“Well, I do not know what I’m allowed to light on fire around here, so…” She grumbled. “Hermes, do you have anything we can burn?”

Hermes tapped her chin in thought, “all I have are clothes and gifts, but I don't want to burn any of those.”

The Dreamer took a seat next to Liana and swiped Poppler from the now empty bowl, “we could burn some of the-” she stopped and stared at Liana before cautiously reaching out and poking the vine-lady's cheek with an extended finger, “uh, if that's okay.”

Liana’s eyes widened and she stared at Hermes, “You’re not suggesting you burn me, right?”

“No!” Hermes huffed, embarrassed, “just the stuff that-”

“This!” She poked the vines.

“Oh,” Liana looked relieved. She glanced at the empty bowl of vines, “Yeah, I guess we could burn it. As long as it’s not connected to the forest. I’m not really keen to experience being burned alive, even in an roundabout sense.” Her eyes flicked back to Hermes and she playfully poked the Dreamers cheek before apologizing, “Sorry Hermes.”

Hermes smiled and poked Liana's cheek back, “it's okay.”

“Yes!” Hermes seemed a little more energetic, “let's burn the things and drink the tea.”

”CRACKLE!”

Xiaoli chuckled, though a little uncertain in tone. Regardless, with a simple snap of her fingers, the bowl caught fire and the kettle was placed neatly on top.

“Now, we calmly wait a little,” she said softly and begun fashioning a tea pot and some cups from nearby rocks. “The water will take some time to boil, so why don’t you tell us a little more about yourself, Liana.” She planted herself comfortably in one of the chairs around the table and gave the vine girl a wink. Hermes turned attentively to her new friend, Poppler on her nose.

“Me?” Liana scooched her chair away from the fire, “I’m not sure there’s much to say. Apparently, not that I remember, Asceal found my soul floating in the debris of her first home. After it exploded, I guess. She saved me from Katharsos massacre, made me a body, and gave me a name.” Liana shrugged, “From there we went to Heliopolis and met Aelius and Azura before returning to rebuild the Garden. I’ve been lounging around here ever since.”

She glanced around before adding, “I was getting pretty bored, honestly. I’m grateful Asceal saved me, more grateful than I can express, but she really could have told me she was leaving.” Liana smiled softly, “It was pretty lonely before you two arrived.”

“Wow… That is certainly a way to be created. I am glad Her Holiness Asceal saved you, dear. Still, though, I must inquire - Katharsos’ massacre?” Xiaoli raised an eyebrow. She put down the final cup and cocked her head to the side. “What has His Holiness done, if I may ask?”

“You don't know?” Liana looked surprised, “He gathered all the souls that came to this universe with the gods. Then he burned them. I don’t know how many original souls are even left at this point. Aside from us of course. Asceal said just saving me was difficult, so it can't be many.”

Xiaoli innocently tweedled her thumbs. “No, I knew… It’s just-...” She looked away hesitantly. She then snapped her finger quietly. Hermes’ crossed her brow but before she could ask her question the kettle suddenly let out a loud squeal.

“Oh, look! The water is ready!” Xiaoli reached for the kettle and first poured some hot water into the teapot, then into each of the three cups.

“This is the first step - heating the claywares. It helps retain the flavour of the tea. To really warm the cups, though, the water has to sit there for a little while.”

Liana glanced at the kettle and narrowed her eyes, but said nothing. Hesitantly she reached to poke one of the cups before recoiling, “Ow. That is hot. We’re supposed to drink that?”

“Oh, no. That water is just for warming the cups!” She grabbed each cup as well as the teapot and discarded the water off the side of the balcony. “Now we make the water we drink!” She took out the pouch of tea leaves, measured the correct number to use in the available teapot and put them in. She then submerged them in hot water and waited.

Zzt! Poppler suddenly whizzed off of Hermes’ nose and slipped into the teapot. Hermes’ eyes widened and she looked at Xiaoli with a sense of worry.

“Poppler,” Hermes hissed and a defiant crackle echoed from the pot. She poked the pot, but quickly snatched her finger back as it burned, “ow!”

The little cloudling suddenly slipped from the spout of the teapot and hovered over Hermes’ reddened finger, his little cloud body leaving bits of warmed moisture. Hermes looked back at Xiaoli sheepishly, “sorry Xiaoli.”

Xiaoli immediately snatched Hermes’ sore finger and stuck it in her mouth. Hermes’ eyes widened in shock and Poppler zipped around Xiaoli’s head crackling angrily. The Dreamer quickly pulled away, “what are you doing!?”

The girl recoiled as well, beads of water forming on her forehead. “I-... I just-... My body is full of cool water, so I thought I could-...” She looked around desperately, but found that Poppler was making concentrating on anything a serious task. “Poppl-! Poppler, please, you’re not being very-..!” She wafted her hand gently at the cloud. “I’m sorry, this is a smidge awkward.”

Poppler let out one final crackle before floating back to Hermes who still sat in shock, “Oh,” Hermes continued to stare, “I get it. I- I think my finger is fine now.”

“O-oh. Of course! Of course…” Xiaoli suddenly shot open her eyes. “The tea!! I left it in too long!” She swiftly picked up the pot and poured each cup half-full. The smell was strong - too strong. She let out a disappointed sigh. “I’m sorry, I didn’t really show my best right now…”

“It’s okay,” Hermes quietly reassured as she took her cup and held it to her lips, the radiating heat causing her to wait, “I’m sure it tastes great.”

Liana held a hand over her mouth, shaking ever so slightly. It took a moment before she managed to suppress her laughter entirely and even then she had to take a few deep breaths before speaking, “Yes, I’m- I’m sure it will be delicious Xiaoli.”

Hermes cast her eyes down into the cup and slowly took a sip. She swished the liquid around in her mouth, and then gulped it down. She shivered at the sensation of the heat and then smiled, “I like it.” She clicked her tongue a few times, shaking the bitterness from her palate.

Xiaoli’s downcast eyes immediately swung back up, fixing on Hermes with starry sparkles within. “R-really?! You do?!” She pushed up her cheeks with her fists and grinned so sweetly she could have dulled the bitterness of the tea.

Hermes nodded enthusiastically and held her cup out to Xiaoli, “I’m going to go with: yes.”

Liana’s eyes flicked between the two and she carefully sipped her own cup. “Hermes is right,” She concluded after a moment, “This is good, much tastier than normal water!”

Xiaoli’s pale cheeks took on a much pinker hue and she looked down again. “N’aaaw, girls… You are just saying thaaat…” She looked to the side, giggling.

“No, I do like it,” Hermes put her empty cup on the table which Poppler dipped into briefly before making a grumpy popping sound and leaving the tea droplets alone. Hermes eyed the cloudling briefly before her gaze bounced back to Xiaoli. Hermes flashed a cheshire smile.

“Definitely good!” Liana drank the rest of her cup.

Xiaoli clapped her hands excitedly. “Well, then you must have more!” She promptly emptied her own cup and refilled all three. “Please, drink up!”

Hermes happily reclaimed her cup and sipped greedily at her drink, having to stop now and again due to increasing pain. Liana eyed the dreamer with a worried look before grasping her own cup and sipping the steaming liquid more slowly. Xiaoli chuckled softly and had a sip herself.

---

Divine energy and godly flesh worked in tandem deep in the belly of Galbar, myriads upon myriads of tendrils engrossed in activity, synthesizing, dematerializing and coding for what seemed like eternity, yet only spanning a few cycles at best. Some wrought fire onto the surface of reality, scrawling pure thought onto canvas while others erased and revised it ceaselessly. Others aggregated at different points, creating hundreds upon hundreds of micro-organisms, only to erase them from existence when impurity’s and malfunctions marred them.

”Critical errors to ARCHON 002 instances. Concerning.” THE ABHORRENT droned, shifting its massive eye to the red scrawl.

The glyphs blazed brightly against the sea of magenta, seeming to slip and slide in space. Revisions to the equation where imperative to the completion of the SHEOL Project. Previous ARCHON instances wouldn’t fit within current universal parameters without heavy augmentations. Such revisions would likely diminish effectiveness of the instance without total recall and rework.

A new set of furious scrawl followed, this one based on the first yet completely new. Augmented motion systems, genetic transmuter and an organic/inorganic flesh energy stasis. A001 and drafted A002 together provided moldable bio-mass. Basic transmutation into flesh-based substance fit within universal parameters and would make way for specialized and isolated secondary instances.

”Satisfactory. A003 command instance required.” the bastard god hummed as flesh aggregated at a single point before its void-like eye.

Work resumed, divine energy crackling as flesh wrought existences. Godly machination synthesized protein capsid layering, transmutable lipid membranes, icosahedral gene capsules and a helical transmutation and motion apparatus’. Separate from the instance, a second set of appendages synthesized the processor/command helix. Dozens of additional codes followed the baseline equation, most prominent of which blazed the transmutation and stasis protocols. With that complete, tiny fingers residing upon a dozen hands assembled the utterly tiny thing into a single, divine organism.

”Satisfactory. A002: run Protocol #1.”

Immediately the micro-organism activated and clung to the nearest A001 instance with savage yet mindless grace. Helical apparatus' awkwardly shirked as genetic material pumped into the organism through a breech in its polymer laying. System motherboards were hijacked and re-programmed. Protein synthesizers were activated and began the transmutation process, turning raw energy into biomass as the plasma membrane buckled under the assembly of secondary A002 instances. An explosion. Myriads upon myriads of A002 instances where ejected into space as the cell gave way to transmuted flesh. In moments a chain-reaction wrought havoc within the sphere, turning the sea of magenta into a pale mass of fibrous flesh that pulsed as if it itself was the heartbeat of Galbar.

run Protocol #2.

The horrorsome cacophony of flesh suddenly ceased, its gluttony quieted by the command of its originator.

The bastard god's flesh seemed to heave.

Project SHEOL> 50% complete_ARCHON 002 instance stabilized.
PRIMARY OBJECTIVE> 3% complete_Sheol infrastructure.
>command instance ARCHON 003_estimated time of completion...unknown.
THE HANDLER Sub-Program: secondary objective_ARCHON 003 synthesization
>imperative to Objective J01.

”noted.”

---

Ohannakeloi thought he had done a pretty good job on this place. It was full of nice stone to look at and provided a good opportunity to rest and just enjoy living. He walked around as he waited for his shell to harden once more, for a long while he took to just admire the various minerals and crystals that made his realm. It was nice to enjoy the peaceful nature of the area, the gentle stability helping to hold together that which was currently around and what he planned to create. The lighting was a bit odd he had to admit, didn’t seem to behave to the exact same rules as in the rest of Galbar, the darkness seemed to linger around a bit longer, perhaps it was something to look into later but that was most definitely for another time.

This place needed a name, first and foremost. It wouldn’t do to name it after himself, although the idea was tempting, it should stand on its own merits Ohannakeloi reasoned. It was hard to come up with a good name, well it wasn’t that hard but while the names were good they were not the right names. He had already gone through half a dozen or more but none of them felt right for this pillar of stability beneath the earth. A pillar of stability now that was a thought, but no matter a name not another project at this time he had enough projects that he felt he was behind on already.

Ohannakeloi felt that he had a wealth of indecision, there was this name or that, then again he was the only one here, it could be changed for a while yet. He went back to his craft, another that needed a name, and the portal. This place can be the best name that he had come up with so far, Ehomakwoi. Had a nice ring to it really although he wasn’t really sure what that meant, just that it felt right. The craft was a bit more difficult, gauging what had the right feeling to the crystal vehicle took a little while but he came upon it soon enough; the Buajoai. Well, it could be changed too if it didn’t work out but it made things simpler for now.

Ohannakeloi knocked his claws against his shell, stronger than before and strong enough for what he needed to do next. Although that phrasing was rather dramatic all things considered, or at least a decent number of things considered. In any case, he was ready, so he embarked into the Buajoai, folding the crystal once more to a now surprisingly snug craft but one that would allow the mission to go forward. Was mission the right word for it? After all, was this not the first grand public undertaking that would bare the name of Ohannakeloi? A grand capstone to his first campaign of creation would be a sufficient classification he should say!

Ohannakeloi began turning the Buajoai around and heading into the grand tunnel to Galbar, there was another that needed a name, but later that could be taken care of, now plans had to be made. He knew what had to be done, a glorious monument to the power and strength of the stone of Galbar that would stand testament to the divinity of Ohannakeloi! However, just what form that should take he was not yet quite sure. The raised stones and lands that he had seen on his approach to Galbar did have a certain promise but to simply copy the work of another? Such a thing for this great triumph of stone should properly be unwarranted in the extreme.

A statue did have a certain appeal if one was going to do something to shout their glory might as well make sure all know it is you who did such a thing. Although it did seem rather presumptuous, as it did not give proper due to the beautiful plenty and might of stone that made and stabilized Galbar, a statue to himself even made of such should not be when Ehomakwoi prevented such chaos. Proper dues had to be made to the material of triumph, of power, of glory even. If he was to do this he had to do it right.

Perhaps something more animated would be appropriate to display the glory of stone and Ohannakeloi. Although that had its own problems as it would not be of stone, or could it be? It was not the standard formation of stones to be particularly active on such timescales but it was something to look into perhaps. Ohannakeloi had built Ehomakwoi to stabilize and strengthen the underlying structure of Galbar so that he could make truly grand accomplishments, but he had been absent long from the surface, to wait and see what could be done was perhaps best.

He did not have to wait long, the gateway was not instant by any means but his craft was fast enough to make the journey through the tunnel short enough. The Buajoai shot out of the confines of the tunnel into the surface above, more appropriately the ocean, not quite the seafloor but not out of the sea either, near some island perhaps? In any case, Ohannakeloi did not have the time to dally around in the sea and so he directed his craft upwards to gain a better look at what changes had been wrought on Galbar while he had been away in its depths.

As Ohannakeloi ascended into the sky he took note of many things. The shining light he had seen before was still there as were the landmasses from before, however, there were many more continents and they were much changed. From above circling around Galbar, he could see much, a lot more stone which a damned good sight to see, he could be glad even though he had spoken little with his fellow deities that they took this work as seriously as he did. There was a lot more green stuff, and other colors notably too, he had no idea what it was but would fun to find out later he supposed.

He had a pretty good idea of what he could do, however, all these amounts of land were all nice and well but they weren’t enough. He could make a grand continent, improving upon all those before in size and glory, a true monument to stone without copying, he could improve upon the work of others. A new creation with supreme purpose and wisdom from the earlier attempts at magnificence! It was a good plan, now it was time to do something with it.

Where to start was troubling enough, Ohannakeloi did not want to expand directly upon another’s work, especially without even trying to talk to them about it beforehand. But he didn’t want to have such great interference by avoiding such things so as to destroy the possibility of his own work being realized. He directed the Buajoai to circle back around coming down off the coast of the first major landmass, eldest and most detailed, he would have to learn its name sometime. He headed due west from that rather large body of water in the center of that land to search.

Ohannakeloi partially climbed out of the crystal, keeping his legs firmly in the craft but allowing the rest of his body to be melded out of it. He did need to have a proper look if he was going to be sure when constructing such a grand work of creation. He flew till he came across a peculiar island, like any other excepting the completely flat cap of the mountain as though it had been sheared away.

He directed his craft to near the land, this would be a good place to start, it was notable at the very least and far from much of anything else. Flipping the craft so that he would be below it he lowered until he could reach into that earth with his claws. He felt the stone of the earth stretching down to the boulder of stability, his Ehomakwoi, and he pulled gripping onto that feeling of Ehomakwoi to pull up the stone of Galbar, creating more to fill the space, simply moving some in hopes of lessening the displacement of the oceans.

Ohannakeloi pulled, soon not even with his claws on actual earth but beyond that in his divine sense, building upon his rock and stable point, the underlying structure that he felt was needed. He directed the craft onward as the new stones of the landscape rumbled forth from the underlying sea and stretched to the horizons. Stone shifted, melded and formed below him as the Buajoai zipped above the sea. First, he headed south and east, there Ohannakeloi learned some of the limits of power when improperly moving the stone caused some to fall back into the sea, not enough support and new stone. This stranded a small amount of land from the rest but it would do.

He headed West still along this far southern area, keeping careful track making stone and raising it. It was draining work at this scale even for Ohannakeloi working with stone at this magnitude was difficult, but it needed to be done. After nearly looping back around to his earlier work, traveling along a sphere did create such difficulties if one used only the surface, he broke off and headed north towards the equatorial regions. He tried as best he could to limit the displacement of water but creating a land on this scale was bound to cause a few ripples in that great sea, even if clearly not as great as the body of stone moving it away, powerful and respectable nonetheless.

Ohannakeloi turned eastward, and eventually south to avoid another god’s created land and to link this one back together. He had taken care to connect the tunnel to Ehomakwoi to this new land although it was a little tenuous. It had taken a lot out of him making this new land, he took a name that he had come up with earlier, this one seemed to fit, and gave it a name; Atokhekwoi. He brought the Buajoai down, remembering another name for the island off the coast, almost forgot about that one; Yentoi.

Ohannakeloi was tired, very much so as the seas around his new land settled and the stone itself was no longer like a sea in creation, it was solid and stable as it should be. He pulled himself fully back into his craft and set it to go west. He rested as it flew waiting for further direction.

Arae flew and flew, thinking about what Orvus had said. The things he had said to have done to Phystene and Ashalla were horrifying, but she couldn’t bring herself to hate him for it, nor did she want to. Orvus needed a helping hand to guide him through his trouble, even if he didn’t want it. Arae only wished she knew how. For now, though, she knew she had other matters to attend to.

Firstly, meet up with the others who were already siding against him, and hopefully convince them to at least be lenient with him. Arae recalled the names of her siblings: Phystene, Ashalla, Kalmar… and there was K’nell now. Arae gave it a quick thought as to who should be the one she would visit next, and ultimately decided it to be K’nell. She hadn’t actually met him before, and figured it would be a good time as any to learn what kind of being he was. Plus, she reasoned, he might be easier to convince than the others, considering Serenis’ earlier words regarding most of the others’ roles being the polar opposite of Orvus’. Arae began to compose her words to K’nell, greeting him via divine message, “Hello, K’nell. My name is Arae. Could you spare some time to talk? It’s about Orvus.”

It started as a trickle, but all of a sudden a great pull appeared in Arae’s mind. It felt of sleep, and while it could be easily swatted away, it remained tempting and cozy. Arae wasn’t sure what to make of it, but decided to go with it and see where it led her, though not without at least finding a place to rest first. Settling onto her currently bare island, Dragon’s Crown, Arae curled up in a circle and closed her eyes, letting her mind be taken by sleep.

---

Gentle musical notes roused Arae’s ears and slowly her eyelids fluttered open. A great blue sky hung over her, beating a gentle blanket of sunlight over her. Plush grass cushioned underneath her, and reeds swayed in a light spring breeze. Sitting up she noticed she was, quite suddenly, a mouse, and before her eyes was a great big stump, a gentlemanly fox sitting atop it playing a mahogany violin, his sweet music filling the air. This was very much unexpected to Arae, but she supposed that anything could happen in dreams. Leaping off the grass cushion and making her way on top of the stump, Arae walked up to the fox, wondering if this would be K’nell’s medium for this dream. “...K’nell?” Arae asked, making the assumption that it was.

The fox continued his song, the notes vibrating and bouncing off the endless blades of grass and right back at the duo as some single handed orchestra of simplicity and contentment. While the song continued, a voice suddenly swirled around Arae and the fox, grainy and mysterious, “Yes?”

Arae’s head swiveled from side to side, trying to locate the source of the voice before quickly realizing that it was pointless and gave up on it. Instead, she went on to say, “Thank you for having me here…. wherever this is… K’nell, where am I, exactly? Is this a dream? This is very pleasant, but also very peculiar.”

The fox abruptly stopped playing the violin, and yet the music continued. It turned its head to Arae, great smiling crescents gleaming off his eyes. The same grainy voice hung in the air between the two animals, “You are on a stump, in a field, in a dream, with me.”

Arae simply continued to stare at the fox while hearing the answer that barely answered anything, her mind in blank confusion. She then shook her head to clear her mind, deciding to ignore this entire exchange and move on to her original objective. Gathering her thoughts, Arae asked K’nell, “K’nell, I’ve heard from Orvus that you forced him into a dream in which he was a mortal farmer with a loving family, and then punished him by removing him from that pleasant dream. I may not know what’s happened since then, but from what I’ve seen of him, he’s in a terrible state of mind. He’s constantly depressed and won’t leave his Sphere. I just want to know: why did you do that? Why did you show him that dream and then take it away?”

There was an unsettling silence as the fox stared at the mouse, and then all at once the voice returned, “Orvus was presented choices; the choice to sleep, the choice to stay and the choice to leave.” He paused, “There is no ill will in a dream, just a reflection of the truth. What the viewer does with it is not my domain.”

“I find it unbecoming to speak of another being’s dreams, it is their most private scenarios. Their most secret possibilities.” The voice clung to the air like the cloudy whites in the sky.

Arae wanted to press further about the issue, but the words wouldn’t come out past the confusion she was now feeling. Between the conflicting stories, K’nell’s words of privacy, and her own conscience, Arae wasn’t sure what she should think. If Orvus was given those choices, then presumably he had chosen to leave… right? Why would Orvus be in such pain, then? Why had he said he wanted to stay? Who was really right, here? After mulling it over for a while, Arae ultimately came to the conclusion that it was completely unfathomable and gave up trying to understand it. Whatever Orvus’ choice was that time was his, and Arae had no choice but to accept that.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… I don’t want to see our siblings act like this,” Arae said. “Orvus needs help, but so many of our siblings are already siding against him. While I understand why they’re doing what they’re doing, considering what Orvus has said he has done to Ashalla and Phystene, I wish they could not be so quick to cast judgement on him, especially when so little time has passed since we were just brought into this world.”

The fox blinked and then started playing his violin, and only after a few seconds did the voice reappear, “You cannot control the actions of another. You can either accept them for who they are and that they will act in ways you disapprove of, or you can present them with choices and consequences. Either way, they will have the freedom to choose their own path, same as we choose ours.”

Arae pondered this reasoning for a brief moment, knowing it to be true, even if her heart was not quite satisfied with it. She sighed, then looked down at the rings in the stump as she said, “I suppose…” Looking back up at the fox, Arae decided to ask, “I may just be overthinking this, but… if the worst comes to worst, and our siblings decide to take action against Orvus, could you give him your aid?”

“First Orvus has a choice to make,” The voice swirled, “As do all the others.” There was a pause as the fox placed his violin down and turned to face Arae directly, “As do you.”

“...I see,” Arae said, not actually seeing it. She thought that perhaps she wouldn’t until the right time came and the decision was in front of her. She only hoped she would make a choice she wouldn’t regret. She bowed at the fox, or at least she made an attempt to, finding it quite difficult to perform the gesture in her current form. “Thank you for having me here, K’nell. This talk has given me much to think about,” Arae said. “Um… how do I leave?”

“I hope all turns out well,” the grainy voice spun as a great cheshire smile grew on the fox. As the voice spoke the volume of the music increased, the notes speeding up their melody and then all at once, Arae’s eyes opened. She blinked, then looked down at herself, finding herself back in her own dragon form. Now she had to think: what was she going to do next?

A nameless war raged in the quiet of Veradax. Amidst the scarlet lightning of fierce clouds the battle ensued as ash danced. It was a great struggle that only a few could truly see. For there were no combatants in this war, yet there was still casualties. The pull of the Mar Tree was not as great as the vortex, but then again, this soul ash was not yet decayed and so the tree beckoned them. It did not whisper sweet nothings, or promise power, it simply called them to join and such ash was easy prey. But not all came so easily. A few, resisted.

It was one such piece that fought for something greater. It had danced the dance of the pull, and ever closer it descended with countless others who it shared kinship with. For they had all burned anew in the pyre’s had they not? But this piece, whether it knew what was happening to its siblings or not, was destined for something else. A possibility.

And so it struggled against the pull, desperately without thought. As it came closer to the crown of the Mar, when all hope seemed lost and futile, a gentle wind carried away, past the tree. Down, down it went. Past a crippled God too consumed by thought to even notice such a small speck. Something glistened in the twilight upon the cold earth, multiple somethings, but one was far greater than the rest. It’s call was sweet and sincere, while the others were cold and sorrowful. That was were it landed, upon a tear cast aside, and then everything changed.

---

Movement. It was so subtle, he barely even noticed, but when Orvus looked to see if his eyes were playing tricks on him, he eyes widened. Before him, small things stirred in the dark. Little fragments of light...and he knew what they were- his tears. They were grouping together, faster and faster, each adding a small plink to the mass as their light grew in intensity. Orvus watched, perplexed by this as the light became blinding. He stood up, shielding his eyes with a hand. Was it some sort of attack by one of his siblings? He began to walk towards the light, fearing the worst before whatever it was doing reached fruition.

Then all at once, the light faded. Hesitantly, Orvus lowered his hand, preparing to go on the defensive. But he froze when he looked upon the figure that was before him. On its hands and knees, the core of its body glowed a soft white to its elbows and knees, were then it’s skin was inky black...much like his own. It had a small body, a trembling body, with short curly hair a top it’s head, draped down to cover its face. Hair made of the same glowing white. And then slowly it sat up and it- no she looked at him with large, inky black eyes. His own eyes, but of the opposite color, reflected back at him with an expression of confusion, mixed with fear. She was smaller then he, much smaller, and her body was that of a lithe figure. She blinked once, twice and began to stand up. But her legs were that of a new fawn, and quickly she began to fall but Orvus caught her before she fell completely. And when his fingers touched her skin, he felt nothing…

---

Her head was spinning. Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to stand after all, but at least her father had caught her. His touch was frighteningly cold, but it was only a small relief when he let go, and she fell to her knees on the hard ground. Somehow, it was even colder. She looked up at her father, for this was who she knew him to be, somehow. Her eyes expressed hurt, while his were distant, painfully so.

There was a tense silence between the two of them, a silence she absolutely despised. It was too quiet, how could anyone think with all the quiet? She needed to break the silence, and so, she did.

”I-I-I-I-I!” Soft and high her voice shouted out. Her eyes seemed to grin as she bathed in the excitement of her own voice. But she noticed her Father’s watchful gaze, and now it was full of disappointment.

”I-I’m sorry for my outburst father.” she said softly, ”I’ve never spoken before, it was rather...exciting. I don’t know how you manage the silence, it’s so...so quiet.” she finished squinting.

The God before her said nothing for a moment, ”Daughter…” he whispered softly. His eyes briefly expressing wonder, before returning to the same impassive look as before. ”You should not be here.” he stated emotionlessly.

The words struck her like a physical blow, and she recoiled. Confusion welled up inside her and she began to stammer, ”W-What? What d-do you mean?” Why did her father not want her to be there?

”D-Did I do something wrong?” she asked.

He took a step back, ”Yes,” he said, ”Y-You exist.” he then turned around, and began to walk away.

She sat there, stunned, not really knowing what to say, or what to do. Something began to cloud her vision, something black that fell from her eyes. She tried to stand again, but fell and this time he did not save her from falling. She had no idea why she felt the way she did, but she knew it was something she didn’t like. She existed, and he did not want her.

What happened next, she barely understood. She saw her father underneath a great black thing, with twisting limbs. Each limp contained something that looked like a ball of some sort. The tree then pulsed, and the motes of light began to leave the branches. Her father looked up at the tree, then he looked back at her, his eyes going wide. The motes began to float towards her, they were very pretty but then a gust of wind grabbed and she felt herself being carried away.

She screamed his name, a wail of desperation but he did not answer. Up and up she went, the clouds opening up to reveal a distant sun, and then she entered the hole in the clouds and suddenly she was falling. Falling through another storm’s eye, down into a deep blue. She braced herself for the impact, but it never came. Another gust of wind caught her, and ever so gently guided her down into the water. When she entered, she felt warmth for the first time, and amidst the calm waters, she floated. Temporarily forgetting what had just happened to her. And it was there she was the moon for the first time, her home. Where her father was.

How was she ever going to get back?

The walk out of the crystalline palace had been almost tear-jerking. The marvellous stones bejeweling the walls as well as the breathtakingly beautiful garden had left Xiaoli awfully awestruck, and now she was sad to leave. The four had spent a few hours getting to know each other. Some more awkward situations involving some more burnt fingers, seeing as Hermes never really knew when not to touch her cup with her delicate, soft, cute hands-... No! No, stop it, head! Tranquil mind, controlled heart. Ahem, regardless, it was evident that the tea was well received, and Xiaoli was relieved beyond words to know that everyone found it palatable. However, after the tea was drunk and conversations quieted down, the team of two - backed, of course, by the fizzy little cloudling - eventually decided that the time had come to leave. They had bid the encaptivating lady of vines farewell and left the gardens through the same way they came in, putting them squarely above the clouds back on the pinnacle of Asceal’s island.

Xiaoli surveyed the cloudscape around them. Come to think of it, since they were alone up here, no one else was looking at them. Maybe she could try to hold her ha-... No! Silly thoughts. Tranquil mind, controlled heart. Besides, Poppler would of course see them. She sighed softly before turning to Hermes. “So, where do we go now?” she asked with a smile.

Hermes face took a serious turn, as if taking her question to be of the utmost important. As she thought, her cloudling companion took it about himself to hum with electricity atop her head, as if he himself was thinking along. Finally a bright smile broke across Hermes’ face, “Want to see my home?”

Xiaoli blushed. So soon! To think that she would take her home already! She struggled for a moment to avoiding blurting out a deafening “YES!” and managed strenuously to bottle up her excitement. This was a cordial invitation - nothing more, Xiaoli concluded rather somberly. She tried to hide her blush with her sleeve as discreetly as possible, failing utterly, and nodded. “Yes, that would be very nice,” she said, choking a giddy giggle.

Against all odds, Hermes smile seemed to grow even wider as she took a few steps towards Xiaoli. Knowingly, Poppler zipped into her knotted hair right as she wrapped her arms around Xiaoli, her spear and club clinking off each other as she did. Xiaoli herself blushed to the point that small vents of docile steam floated up from underneath her black hair. It only took a second, but with a crash of sound and a sudden blur, the trio was rocketed off the peaks and above the clouds.

The great cloudy plains zipped by underneath, and in time that eventually gave way to an endless blue ocean. Their time spent over the ocean was the longest of the journey, and due to the immense speeds it was spent in silence, Hermes focusing hard on her positioning only now and again looking at her catch with a reassuring twinkle in her eye. Xiaoli felt that she never could get quite used to this sight, an entire sea soaring by underneath at speeds neither she nor her master could achieve, even in water. She would occasionally look up at the Dreamer’s chalk-white face and her awe would morph into a warming sensation of safety. In the moment, the girl could not help but tighten her grip around Hermes just a little tighter.

All at once an amazing landmass broke the horizon, glittering red coasts waved at them, and blue mountains could be seen in the far distance. Hermes seemed to ignore the rocky coastline, zipping by and over it. It was only once she flew over the first set of strangely moving mountains did she land. Very softly did she settle onto a great expanse of red grass, little water potholes and stampeding trees. Behind the group the distant sound of grinding crumbled in their ears, the mountains ever swapping in place. Hermes seemed to pay the oddities no mind, and simply squatted down to wave her hand through the strange grass, her cloudling companion resurfacing to zip off to one of the many puddles, joining the swathes of other cloudlings that fogged the landscape. Xiaoli savoured the moment and walked a short distance, feeling her heart bounce with wonder and her mind weep in confusion. She had not even conceived of the possibility of seeing a pack of trees trot across a red savannah before. In the distance, the mountains zoomed back and forth like clouds on the sky. It was all quite surreal, she reckoned, scratching her temple in bewilderment. She turned back to Hermes and Poppler and gestured to the dreamlike landscape.

“Do you actually live here?” she asked in a perplexed manner.

Hermes’ hand turned into a fist as she snatched a handful of the grass and plucked the blades. The Dreamer stood up and nodded, “Yes, well. I live closer to the center, but the whole place is my home.”

As if brushing off the surreal nature and deeper meaning of the question, Hermes extended her grassy catch to Xiaoli, a candy sweet aroma leaking from the freshly harvested grass, “Chew on this! I like it.”

Xiaoli eyed the grass and took in the smells. She felt her mouth water a little and put a blade in her mouth. She chewed for a moment, grinning and giggling at the flavour - such a delicious little snack! Much sweeter than the fruits she was used to, yet it was not as filling - in fact, it was not at all filling. The perfect snack! The red plant matter tinted her already colourful teeth. Xiaoli hummed happily at the flavour and put a hand on her cheek.

“That was delicious! May I have another one, please?” she asked.

“Uh huh!” Hermes happily nodded, quickly snatching another blade of the sugar grass for Xiaoli. While she handed it over, her enthusiastic mind and body wandered along with her words as she explained the various different things to see, “... If you start seeing white little blotches floating around you, those are flowers on the tripvine, so go slow… There are so many butterflies in the mountains, and some of them you can only see if you sit down and wait… Those are called Bilbies, they hop around and are furry, but not much else… And I call those Crunchers on account of their big mouth and the sound they make when they eat a tree.” Xiaoli skipped along dreamingly, chewing sweetgrass and taking in most of the explanations and sights with half-hearted attentiveness and wholehearted enthusiasm, occasionally dropping an “oh” or an “uh-huh”, depending what she could manage in her joyous daze.

Her finger pointed to one of the large rhino like herbivores with a hippo wide mouth chasing down the herd of trees, “They only eat the running trees, not the trees of the Limbo forest where I was born. OH! There are some neat fruits on the way there, they jangle in the wind like music.”

Xiaoli’s eyes widened. “Oooh! Is that so? I would love to see them, if we could!”

“Of course,” Hermes smiled wide, “I know they were made before me, but sometimes I like to think they were made for me.” The Dreamer laughed at her own joke, taking Xiaoli’s hand and leading her through the rest of the flatlands. Xiaoli, still stuck in her daze, was pulled along like a doll. She did not mind in the slightest, though. Eventually the group found the foothills of a mountain and after a short trek upwards, they were cutting through a strange forest of mushrooms the size of trees, fit with strange little possums sucking on nectar flowers and strange clumps of mosses flying around. A certain magic seemed to hang in the mushroom forests, and whenever the wind cut through, as promised, there was a small melody of jingling fruit.

Finding a particular spot between four stout mushrooms, Hermes hopped onto a mossy rock. Reaching as high as she could, her fingers managed to graze the hanging fruit from the cap of the shortest fungi. The fruit let out a soft jingle as she did, and then with a tiny hop she managed to grab it, her short fall back to the rock snapping it free from the mushroom with a loud bell like sound.

Hermes huffed and handed the cylindrical color blotted fruit to Xiaoli, “The ends are kinda hard, but if you snap it in half, the center tastes really good. It’s not very sweet, though.”

Xiaoli accepted the fruit and did as instructed: She snapped it in half to reveal the beige, mushy middle interior. Using her index finger, she dug out a small clump and put it in her mouth. Hermes had been correct in her assessment that it was not particularly sweet, not as sweet as the grass had been, anyway. The texture was mushy and a little grainy, with a rather bland flavour that leaned towards sour. It would probably be really nice with some side dishes, though. Perhaps with some nuts and jam or perhaps with some tea. Not wanting to be brutally honest, however, she smiled at the flavour, perhaps a little wider than necessary.

“I like it!” she said, “it would be wonderful with some nuts and berries in a fruit salad, though. We should make that some time!”

The smile started in Hermes’ eyes as she beamed at Xiaoli, “You know, I never got to show anyone this stuff before. It means a lot to me that you like it all.” Xiaoli giggled sheepishly.

“It-... It means a lot to me that you wanted to bring me here, too…” she whispered, steam drifting gently up from her hair. She looked down at her feet, shuffling them in place. The wind brushed through the mushroom trees, rustling the fruits on the caps into song. The orchestra of the dreamland made Xiaoli cast her eyes up to the fungi to observe. Her cheeks flushed and she let out a joyous laughter, neatly skipping a little around in circles.

Hermes sat on her mossy stone and watched Xiaoli, a sleeping Poppler in her hair. Time slowly leaked by and in a moment, Hermes suddenly perked up, “Want to see where I was born?”
Xiaoli ceased her hopping, turning to Hermes with blinking eyes. What would such a place look like? Don’t tell me-! She wasn’t bringing her to her master’s sphere, was she?! Xiaoli took the liberty of giving her dress a runover with her eyes. Just as she had feared, the time since leaving the Jiangzhou had made it weary with travel, and the fabric around her ankles showed signs of tears and rips - not to mention the overall presence of dirt and mud all across the skirt. She couldn’t possibly meet a -god- like this!

She blinked. Then again, she did really want to see the place where such a beautiful, soft, se-NO! Stop it, head! Tranquil mind, sweetroll heart. No, wait… Rank and file, controlled farts. Bah! Silly, silly, silly! If this entailed her meeting a god, she could not agree to come along - that was that!

“Yes,” Xiaoli answered eagerly. What was that?! She was supposed to decline! Yet she felt herself almost desperately drawn to follow Hermes wherever she suggested they go. Xiaoli supported her answer with a grin. Very well, she thought, she was created with all manners of improvisational skills and eloquent mannerisms. She could naturally handle this… She hoped.

Once again Hermes seemed to break emotional law and somehow appear even happier, as if she was expecting a no. The Dreamer could barely contain herself, her fast walk turning into a strange skip as she led the way down the other side of the mountain. Xiaoli giggled at her skipping and soon joined in the merry gait. As they made way into the valley, the mushroom forest slowly gave way to a forest of trees -- the still kind.

The trees were old and sturdy, with gnarled roots that wove in and out of the ground as well as crooked branches. Here and there a cloudling could be seen dashing behind the dark leaves, their tiny bodies reflecting the evening heliopolis above the canopy. The further the trio walked on, the more the ground flattened and the more a strange sense of nostalgia leeched into Xiaoli's mind, despite never setting foot here in her entire life. Xiaoli looked around with crooked eyebrows and a pinch of concern in her soul - did the woods remind her of the Nanhe jungle, perhaps?

The forest seemed to thicken for a while, forcing the duo to walk single file in silence. At last the forest once more began to open up into root dominated patches of groves and ancient trees. As if the scene was beginning to be too mundane, small glowing orbs suddenly appeared. Their light shedding only slightly in the dim atmosphere, their bodies hovering lazily and only slowly moving when necessary. As the group walked by them, a few decided to follow; some turned a passionate pink as they followed Xiaoli, a few others a sunny yellow as they floated by Hermes. Such beautiful colours, Xiaoli thought - pink like blushing cheeks. She giggled to herself and noticed the sunny orbs around Hermes. They were pretty, too, but… Why were they yellow? Did the orbs go by personality or emotions or… She swallowed - or feelings for one another?! For a second, it felt as though someone pickled her heart in strong brine. Did the different colours denote different interests?

She shook her head hastily. No, that couldn’t be it! It was by personality, of course! Yellow connotes, uh, strength and joy, yes! Pink connotes beauty and, uh… Uhm… L-love? Her cheeks flushed, but her heart still ached. Hah! It likely based itself on the stronger personalities within, of course! That-... That had to be it, right?

The Dreamer seemed to pay them no mind as the group finally spilled out into a massive grove ringed by the most ancient of trees. The small orbs floated en masse around a great stone pedestal easily a cottage in width, with a large arch of stone connecting two ends; its large entirety was made of a single, dark primordial stone, and it had a surface that looked impossibly smooth. With a skip and a bounce, Hermes suddenly planted herself in front of Xiaoli, facing the river lady with her tell tale cheshire smile, “Here we are!” Xiaoli wiped all the concern off her face and returned the smile with one of her own, not even bothering to hide all her river pebble teeth. She had a look around the group’s immediate position, noted the pedestal and the general layout of the clearing.

“Majestic,” she whispered loudly. Naturally, she thought, it would take a place of such divine presence to create a mortal being so divine as Hermes. She let out an almost shivering sigh. Tranquil mind, controlled heart now, Xiaoli. Remember, your lord gave you the gift of reason - but also the gift of the heart! Can’t I be allowed a little leeway? No! You aren’t even sure if she likes you in that way! That-... That doesn’t mean I cannot try! You are the spawn of a divine being- So is she! I wasn’t finished! You are the spawn of a divine being and she is a mortal - it would never work! We are literally the first to ever (potentially) try - you have nothing to back that up! Look! Look… Just…

“Just take it slow and find out of she likes you back, okay?” she said and formed a box-like gesture with her hands, as if laying a strategy.

“What?” Hermes cocked her head, her eyes staring at the little air box.

Xiaoli froze and recoiled a little. “N-nothing! Did you hear something?! I didn’t! Hehehehe!” Her sheepish laughter continued a little longer than necessary. “I, uh, I didn’t say anything else, right?”

Hermes smiled wide at Xiaoli’s speech, unsure if it was amused or confused, but before she could answer a great flash dominated the grove accompanied by a loud whisper of power. Negatives flashed in Xiaoli’s eyes as they slowly readjusted, and a soft hum faded from her ears. When her senses slowly drifted back to intelligible, a figure stood on the pedestal, underneath the archway.

The figure was dressed like a gentleman, and had skin as colorless as Hermes. A large cheshire grin was planted on his face that reminded Xiaoli of Hermes’ if not much bigger and longer. Two spiral eyes stared hard at the Avatar, but before any interaction could happen, Hermes let out an excited squeak and rushed the pedestal with such speed, a sonic boom erupted from where she was standing. In an instant she was clasping K’nell’s right hand with both of hers, a giddy twinkle in her eye. Xiaoli was uncertain of whether she had fallen to her knees as a result of the the god’s appearance or the sonic boom, but she did not waste any time forming the position into a kowtow, pressing her palms and forehead to the ground in prostration before K’nell.

“Your Holiness - it is an immeasurably great honour to meet Your blessed self. This servant is named Xiaoli, advisor to Shengshi.” She held her pose as she spoke. “This servant hopes she is not intruding upon Your sacred grounds.”

“I know exactly who you are,” a grainy voice swirled next to her right ear, as if K’nell was standing immediately next to her, making Xiaoli shiver, “and I know exactly what you have done-”

The voice hung long enough to garner a speck of anxiety, “-you have shown Hermes a great kindness, and have befriended her in a way of which I approve. She speaks of you in her sleep, and has honey’d my ear with your exploits together.”

Hermes seemed to shift with a slight embarrassment but K’nell continued, “You are welcome here, and welcome to stand and face me.”

Xiaoli held her pose for an additional second before slowly rising back up to sit on her ankles. She discreetly brushed off the dirt on her forehead and slowly looked upwards until her eyes fell on the smartly dressed figure. She dared crack a small smile.

“This servant is beyond grateful for Your hospitality, as well as for Hermes. She is a dear friend to me and I-...” She paused. This was likely not the best time to spill all the details. “... And I hope she is as happy with me as I am with her.” She sent Hermes a wink.

“Of course, Xiaoli!” Hermes smiled back at her friend. K’nell stood silent for a while, leaving the two to simply look at each other, before suddenly pulling his left hand from behind his back, palm up. Suddenly a box materialized on top of it. It was small, perhaps an inch thick and maybe seven long, with a depth no more than the thickness. It was made of a wood that reminded Xiaoli of the color of the trees about her right now, and was hinged in a silver pattern that reminded her of a dream she never had.

“Come,” K’nell’s voice sounded behind Xiaoli, “take your prize.”

Xiaoli pondered for a second. A prize for what? For being Hermes’ friend? She smiled, rose up and made her way towards the god. It was nice to see that the world had other hosts as hospitable as her master. A thought stabbed through her conscience, leaving an open wound. Her master! She had been gone for so long! Was he alright? The warm colours in her cheeks dimmed even as she approached the two on the pedestal. She stopped in front of the god and bowed, extending two hands which she cupped together to accept the gift.

The box was gently placed on her hands, the gift weighing slightly more than she might have expected. K’nell’s voice hung between the group, “A seed that the field of the world may need in the coming days. Open it.”

Xiaoli straightened herself back up and looked pensively at the box. She looked up to K’nell as if seeking reassurance before slowly lifting off the lid. There sitting on a cushion of black velvet was a small flute made out of a white metal, it had seven holes to control the flow of wind through the tiny mouthpiece. Something about it calmed Xiaoli’s heart as she looked at it. The calming warmth spread throughout her body and the colours returned to her skin; her shoulders relaxed; her pupils swelled ever so slightly. She carefully took the flute in her hand and let her eyes drink in its every detail. She eventually looked back to the god and gave him a smile complemented by misty eyes.

“Th-... Thank You, Your Holiness. May this servant.. May this servant try it out?”

Like a conductor K’nell raised an allowing hand, his eyes intent on Xiaoli, paired with Hermes’ own eager gaze, her lips slightly parted in suspense. Xiaoli put the box carefully down on the ground and then placed her fingers on the flute’s slim, metallic body, testing the distance between the holes. Finally, she laid the mouthpiece between her lips and blew.

A stream of water shot out the front of the pipe, as well as through four of the seven holes. Xiaoli’s normally white skin turned pink and she hid her face behind her sleeve. “S-sorry! Allow me to try again!”

K’nell stood silent, keeping his conductor’s hand raised in permission. Hermes’ on the other hand, zipped back down to her friend and investigated closely, before nodding, “try again.”

With Hermes next to her, Xiaoli felt her heartbeat with renewed vigor. The colour in her face remained, but not due to embarrassment this time. She concentrated and put the flute to her lips again. Alright, how do I do this, she thought. To blow air in a concentrated manner without the water, too… She first blew very carefully, producing some quiet notes. This encouraged her, so she added some more vigor, the tones growing louder and more colourful. As she concentrated on keeping the water in her mouth from flushing out again, she painted the air around them with calm, blue notes that seemed to swim around them like fish in a stream. As she tested the instrument, the blues became purple skips and red crescendos, brushing across the fictive canvas like a brush across paper.

As Hermes stood admiring the beautiful sound, suddenly Poppler tumbled out of her hair and landed on the ground with not as much as a pop. The Dreamer spun to look at her cloudling friend, kneeling down to poke. The Cloudling only stirred slightly and Hermes looked up at Xiaoli, “He is asleep.”

“Beasts of anger, beasts of violence, and beasts of destruction and wroth; The world will see all of these, but as I said: here is a much needed seed in the field of the world,” K’nell’s voice whispered about the trio, “a gift unto you, to be shared. See the hearts of these beasts pacified when they come too much, pass the flute to those who need it most, and never stop showing kindness.”

Xiaoli fell to her knees and clutched the flute tightly to her chest. “Yes, Your Holiness. This servant swears upon her existence to always show her kindest self to others and to share Your sacred gift with all those that may need it.” Her eyes spawned small tears and she inclined her head. “Thank You, Your Holiness, thank You so much.”

K’nell held out a palm then the little cloudling stirred to, lazily hovering back up to Hermes’ hair, “you all have my blessing.”

There was another bright clap of light, and as the buzzing and the pinkish hue of eyes shocked by light faded, K’nell was gone.

Xiaoli blinked and looked back down at the flute. The first gift she had ever received from another deity - it was beautiful. She would treasure it dearly. She looked at Hermes and grinned.

“So… Where to now?”

Though the great eye of the storm had been calm, it was a completely different story once she neared the edge. Underneath the black clouds and scarlet lightning, it was a completely different world. The wind howled, the waves were far taller than her, and to be perfectly honest, she was petrified. It was the only way out, but to where? All she could see was the storm and it’s anger. Was there anything on the other side?

”Okay.” she said aloud, finding some small comfort in her own voice, ”I have to do this. Father wouldn’t have sent me here just to float forever. Would he?” she finished softly. But there was doubt in her voice, for what better way to get rid of something that shouldn’t have existed to begin with?

She let out a angry growl, ”No! No No No! I can’t let that drag me down. Not now. Come on, you can do this! Yeah!” But still she hesitated, uncertain if she was truly willingly to leave the calm waters for the unpredictable. She sighed, there was no other choice.

So she kicked her feet backwards, and paddled her hands forward, taking the swim into dangerous waters.

Instantly she was taken by a strong current, and plunged under the water as a wave collided on top of her. In the murky blackness she flailed about, losing her sense of direction until the lightning flashed. She fought against the waves, fought against the very water and kicked her legs. Up up up she went! Breaking the surface of the water and welcomed by the howl of the wind. It seemed to laugh at her, mocking in tone but she pressed forwards. She wouldn’t let the storm win!

Over and over she fought the waves as they collided against her body. It was beginning to take a toll upon her, but a flash of lightning illuminated a great wave to the side of her, and in it she saw the silhouette of something massive, and briefly, she saw a mesmerizing light. It was beautiful, and she wanted to go towards it, but quickly as it came it vanished underneath the waves, leaving her to only fill sheer terror at whatever she had seen. It renewed her vigor, and she pressed on again.

Her squinted with happiness but the smile quickly faded to one of horror as a wave that seemed to touch the very storm grew before her. The wind began to howl even further, laughing it’s horrible mocking laugh. Thinking quickly, she dove down as best she could to try an escape it, and as the wave crashed against her, she could see a light on the horizon before everything went black.

---

Arryn soared across Galbar’s vast blue oceans, unused to being so distant from his master. Yet that had been the master’s wish. After Kalmar had returned from his conversation with Parvus, he had sent Arryn to explore Galbar, and to bring back a report of his findings.

Then the falcon noticed a strange object floating in the water, a tiny white speck on a vast sea of blue. Arryn came to a stop, flapping its wings as it hovered in place, and then it began to descend. He realized he was not looking at an object after all, but another creature. Was it dead? No, as he closed in he sensed that it was alive. It needed aid, then?

Unsure of what to do, Arryn decided he would need his master’s opinion. Although the bird was much smaller than her, he was the avatar of a god, and thus had strength well beyond his size. His talons gripped her wrists, he lifted her into the air, and then he began the flight back to Kalgrun.

Meanwhile, Kalmar was at work. He had returned to the parrot that Arryn had devoured. The feathers and bones still remained, so he decided he would get some use out of them. Using a sharp rock, he was filing a bone fragment into an arrowhead, and he had already pocketed a fistful of the feathers to serve as fletchings. This went on for some time, and he made quite a few of the things, only to pause when he sensed his avatar’s presence nearby. Back so soon?

Arryn swooped down and unceremoniously dropped the woman at Kalmar’s feet, before perching himself on a nearby tree to observe. For a moment, Kalmar was surprised. Then, he looked at her curiously. ”Who are you?” he asked, continuing to sharpen the bone.

She woke up after seemingly falling on something hard. Weakly, her hand reached out and touched the dirt. Instantly she relaxed as the solid foundation provided her with stability. Something she hadn’t realized was so needed. Before she could even begin to wonder how she ended up where she was, a new voice took her by surprise and all at once her eyes snapped open. There was an extremely bright light, so bright she had to squint, but as her eyes adjusted, a person came into view. She didn’t really know what to think of the being in front of her.

”Oh.” she said aloud, ”Hello.”

Whatever it was, it looked really weird.

Kalmar stared back at her. He stopped sharpening the fragment, and instead slid it into a pocket. He was sizing her up, assessing the threat that she posed, and there was no warmth in his eyes, but he seemed to be remembering something. Then, he brought his empty hand back up, extended a finger… and poked her in the shoulder. ”Hello,” he said with a stern expression. ”Who created you?”

She saw something familiar in those eyes of his. Cold, painfully so, and it made her think of her father, and her own eyes grew sad. When he raised his hand and extended his finger towards her, she tensed up, but when nothing came of it besides a strange, warm poke, she became confused. What had that been?

”Umm,” she began softly, ”My father?” Who else would have created her?

”And what is your father’s name?” Kalmar asked, but he already knew, for while he was sizing her up he had gone through her memories and saw the image of his enemy. The only questions were: did she know, and would she lie?

She looked away from the man, and whispered to herself, ”A name…?” and said nothing for a moment as she thought. A name, that was what you called someone! Though she had called him father, she had never known that there would be another name to call him by. That was what the man wanted to know.

But then suddenly it dawned upon her, her father had only ever called her daughter. He hadn’t given her a name, before… before she was sent away.

When she looked back at the man, a small black tear fell down her face.

”I-I don’t know. H-He never told me.” came her sad voice.

Kalmar shrugged, and then frowned. He looked deeper into her memories, briefly wondering why he had not thought to use such a trick on Hermes. He saw that this stranger had not been given her own name either, and he also saw Orvus’s rejection. Why did Orvus create her only to cast her aside?

”Your father’s name is Orvus,” he told her. ”My name is Kalmar. The creature that brought you here is Arryn. As for your name…” he shrugged again, and then appeared to be deep in thought as he internally threw together random combinations of syllables and sounds, ”I will call you…” he frowned, not yet able to think of anything. ”What do you think you should be called?”

She perked up when the man began to speak names. So her father was Orvus, such a sad name, she thought. He was Kalmar, but what was Kalmar? And Arryn, that was who brought her here? She would have to thank this creature Arryn.

Her excitement to hear what she would be called grew as she waited for Kalmar to say it, but when he frowned, so too did her eyes. Instead, he asked her what she should be called, and to that, she had not a clue. She didn’t know names.

She sighed softly, ”I don’t know any names, well besides three thanks to you. Kalmar. I like that name.” she said aloud, happily.

”I will call you Arya, then.” Kalmar finally decided, not acknowledging the compliment. ”Though you may change it if you wish. A name is just a name.”

Her eyes went wide when he spoke that name. Her name. Arya. It was wonderful, and she couldn’t help but laugh joyfully, forgetting about everything that had happened to her. She had a name!

Slowly she sat up, and hugged Kalmar, squeezing him as tightly as she could manage. ”Oh thank you! Thank you thank you thank you! Arya, I love it! It’s perfect, Kalmar!” she squealed with delight and did not let go.

Kalmar looked at her in bewilderment, and then pushed her away - not violently, but firmly enough to let her know that he did not like the sudden physical contact. ”You’re… welcome?” he said, confused at her reaction, and there was an awkward silence for a while, until finally he spoke again. ”Did Orvus teach you nothing of the world?” he asked, in an attempt to change the subject.

Kalmar’s push did little to upset Arya’s mood, in fact she barely even registered it. She was much too caught up in her own happiness, but his sudden question brought her back to reality. She looked at him with a quizzical look.

”The world? What’s that!” she asked excitedly.

Kalmar almost wanted to groan. First Hermes, and now ‘Arya.’ Why did the other gods insist on creating offspring that they did not deem fit to train or educate? It was lazy, it was almost incompetent. ”The world is called Galbar,” he told her. ”It is everything you see around you. The ground, the air, the sea, the sky… this land you are on now, which I named Kalgrun, is only one small piece of it.” He paused, thinking about his next words, before deciding to press on. ”Your father would like to see it all destroyed.”

She soaked in his words like a plant would sunlight, and from this knowledge she began to understand. Galbar, what an equally wonderful name. And Kalgrun! What a beautiful, stable, land. Much unlike the sea. She cocked her head as Kalmar continued, suddenly aware of how serious his tone was.

Why did her father wish to destroy Galbar? That seemed… That seemed wrong, but perhaps he had a good reason too? She had to find out more.

”I know what that means.” she whispered, ”No more Galbar. But why Kalmar? Why would my father want to do that?”

”Your father is irrational, and dangerous,” Kalmar told her, paying close attention to her thoughts. He believed it was important for her to understand that there was no good reason for such vast destruction. ”He tries to kill what he has no reason to kill, and he rejects what he is supposed to protect. Most do not share his desires. He is not an example to follow,” he explained to her.

It broke her heart to hear what Kalmar said, and some of it made sense to her. For she had seen him in person, she had seen him act that way. It was complicated. Her father was complicated and she wanted nothing more then help him, to be loved by him, but what Kalmar said was… truthful. How could it not be?

She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears, ”What did I do wrong, Kalmar? Why do I exist if he doesn’t want me?” she asked.

Kalmar’s serious expression broke once again and betrayed another emotion - sympathy. Just as it was unnatural for most parent to endanger its offspring, it was also unnatural for the offspring to contemplate turning against the parent. ”I do not know why he created you,” Kalmar admitted, and there was a short pause before he spoke again, his voice hardening with conviction and inspiration.

”But I know why you exist - for the same reason that everything else does. You exist to continue existing. To survive, to overcome, to improve yourself. To exist is to struggle and suffer, but it is also to succeed and prevail. If you continue to exist you win, and if you stop existing then you lose. Your father would have all of us lose.”

Arya noted how Kalmar’s voice trickled with emotion and for her. It was the most she had seen of Kalmar that didn’t remind her of Orvus’ impassive look, and it made her happy. Kalmar’s words further brightened Arya’s perception and lessened the turmoil within her heart. She felt emboldened with this information, and for the first time, she felt alive. And she would win, to show her father that she wasn’t a mistake. So that maybe, one day, he would love her.

Arya nodded, but a new question came to mind.
”All of us? Are there...are there others?” she asked softly.

Kalmar nodded. ”There are.” And then he told her what he could. He told her of the Architect, of the gods, of the mortals, and the differences between them. He told her of the gods he had met thus far - Li’Kalla, Phystene, Aelius, Asceal, Ashalla, Parvus, even Shengshi and his avatar. Then he told her of Hermes, the first mortal. He even mentioned a few of the animals he had encountered. ”And there will be more,” he promised. ”This world is still young and empty. It has yet to be filled.”

Like a child hearing their first story, Arya fully engorged every part of her being in listening, and learning. And all the while fantastical thoughts filled her head as she learned of each god, of the animals and the first mortal, Hermes. And she wondered if she would ever meet any of them and oh, and oh it was so amazing. There was so much, so so much with even more to come.

She sighed happily when he finished, ”They all sound so... So interesting, Kalmar. I-I don’t even know where to begin. But I can’t wait.” she finished enthusiastically.

”You begin by learning how to survive,” Kalmar told her. ”This world has much to experience, but there is also much danger. I can teach you how to overcome it, and how to avoid it when you can’t.”

And Arya’s eyes expressed a profound joy as Kalmar offered to teach her. Without waiting, she hugged him again and spoke giddily, ”Oh please! Please teach me!” And like before, she did not let go.

Kalmar hesitated for a moment, and then reluctantly hugged her back.

---

She sat atop the mountain, hands on her knees, humming a somber tune. Around her snow had begun to blanket the peak, falling in step with her song. Rivulets of water ran down and off her shimmering hair and face as the snow melted on contact with the Goddess’s body. It was a peculiar feeling, but one Asceal paid little attention to.

She dwelled on other things. Ever since Phystene had told her of Orvus’s promise she’d been unable to think of anything else. At least, not for long. Populating Istais had been a pleasant distraction, for Asceal and especially for Phystene, but that was what it had been: a distraction. The issue of Orvus’s attempted murder remained.

When the time came Asceal hadn’t stopped Phystene from leaving, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t worried for her friends safety. It was discouraging, to realize things were no better here than among the Celestial Spheres. Azura had warned her of that, though. Galbar had been the victim of a multitude of calamities already. What was one more?

Asceals song faltered and she muttered to herself, “One too many.”

She took flight, the radiant wings she’d given herself launching her from the mountain peak. She couldn’t hope to stop every disaster, she knew that. Truth be told she’d barely managed to keep herself safe, but that didn’t mean she should be ignorant as to what tragedies befell the world. As she soared above the clouds she took in a world unknown to her.

A vast stony plain had been pulled from the ocean near her island, and with no better landmark in sight she chose to follow its coast. It was a barren land, but not a ruined one. It was desolate, full of crags and boulders, and yet it was still beautiful. Moreover, she knew that even without the intervention of a god the wild land would be lush in time. It made Asceal realize that Phystene had been right. Even faced with tragedy they couldn't lose sight of what they were here to do.

That didn’t justify ignorance or inaction though. Before long Asceal spotted the first sign of what she’d taken flight to find. In the distance, invisible to any but a god, a thin stream of smoke spoke of a great fire that had since burned itself out. She rushed to it.

What she found was an island, pitifully small, and black with ash and death. That wasn’t all though. Life was slowly reclaiming the island. Scattered around the scorched island were groupings of thin green stalks. The plants were sprouting from seeds being planted by a flock of multicoloured birds who could only be Azura’s creations. Asceal floated to the ashen ground and beckoned to one.

Around her a small group gathered. They looked like miniature imitations of the Goddess of Wind, and Asceal couldn’t help but take a moment admire their brilliant feathers. That, and the work they were doing.

She smiled at one and asked, “Little one, can you tell me what happened to this place?”

The bird cocked its head and sung a reply, “The burning one came. It burned the land, see?” The Gemstone Gardener looked around as if to illustrate its point before continuing in a somber tone, “Others were burned too. They don’t fly anymore, and they hurt.”

Asceal frowned and scanned the island, looking for any injured Gardeners. She glanced at the colourful bird she’d been speaking to and asked, “Can you take me to them? I may be able to help. I’m a friend of your mother.”

“You know Azura?” The Gardener chirped happily, “If you can help come, come! Fly with us!”

The Gardener and those around it took off and Asceal followed. She took care not to outpace the mortal birds, for even flying normally the ethereal wings that sprouted from her shoulders were a great deal larger than theirs.

They led her across the island, to a beach of glassy black sand. The beach sloped up to a wall of stone into which dozens of small alcoves had been carved. The holes concealed countless small, huddled bodies. The Gardeners that had brought her there approached cautiously and sung to their fellows, “We’ve brought a friend of Azura! She says she can help!”

A few Onyx Cockatoos emerged from the alcoves and flew up to the Goddess. They said nothing as they regarded her, but eventually flew back to the alcoves and squawked in careful invitation. Asceal approached one of the alcoves and saw the masses of quivering bodies within. Not all were Gardeners, but all were injured.

Many of the birds had lost the feathers of their wings. A few who were especially unfortunate had had lost wings or feet altogether. Theirs were merciful injuries compared to their companions, though. The small scaled lizards had suffered horribly.

Many had limbs fused to their bodies, nearly all were blind. She tried to stop herself, but soon Asceal had started to cry. Meager as they might be, these souls did not deserve such cruelty. Gently, under the watchful eyes of the Onyx Cockatoos, Asceal extended a hand and rested it on one of the Gardeners in the Alcove.

What sort of Gardener it was she couldn’t have said, for all its feathers had been scorched from its flesh. She felt its faint heartbeat, listened to its laboured breath, and etched the sight into her memory before her hand started to glow. The Gardeners breathing grew stronger, its scars faded, and its feathers began to grow back.

Asceal still wept silently, but she did her work. The glow spread from the Gardener to its fellow animals. Soon it had even begun to permeate the soil. All across the island those creatures who had survived the onslaught, no matter how great their pain, were restored to health.

The Goddess stood when it was done and wiped glowing tears off her face. She knew she couldn’t prevent every tragedy, but how could she allow such atrocities to happen again? She’d sworn to protect the souls of Galbar, not save the few that survived her siblings sadistic rampages.

As the healed creatures began squawking, chirping, and barking their thanks Asceal took to the sky. She couldn’t stop the depraved actions of her siblings. She couldn’t stop every tragedy in its tracks.

That didn’t mean she shouldn’t try.