Shengshi had turned Istais on its head in search of Xiaoli and concluded that, wherever in the world she may be, it was not here. The snake still felt the knife of betrayal in his chest, though the hands of reason were gently tugging at the handle in an effort to pull it out. He had perhaps been unreasonable with her, yes, unadaptable and unwilling to change his ways - ultimately leading to her decision to escape. Perhaps a change of scenery would do his divine self some good, too, the snake thought absentmindedly.

The trek back to Jiangzhou was spent in a deep trance of thought. Sparks of concern for Xiaoli burst into existence between elaborate plans for the Classic of Wisdom. A change of scenery, yes - it may just give him that flash of inspiration needed for the next chapter, as well as some possible leads on where that girl had gone. The snake looked up through the foliage and saw the golden decorations of Jiangzhou blink in the light of Heliopolis. He let out a sigh. How could Xiaoli leave all of this? He could possibly maybe show some understanding for her leaving because of his own behaviour at certain times, but to leave this life of luxury - that poor thing! Shengshi hoped she was eating well, at least. Perhaps he should make her some rose petal cakes for her eventual return. She really did like those. As did Shengshi and he snapped one into existence and put it in his mouth, humming happily at the flavour.

The riverlord climbed aboard and cleared his throat loudly. A servant zoomed up on deck and circled the snake as to not disappear. The snake tossed his eyes down at the speeding globule and let out a ponderous hum, plucking his beard in thought.

“Servant - bring your master a pot of green tea, a cup, some rice paper - make sure you do not make it soggy - a brush and ink.” The servant circled him once more and zoomed off.
“Oh, wait! I forgot one thing.” The globule stopped, immediately exploding into a cloud of droplets. Shengshi winced, sighed and snapped his fingers. The globule reformed, turned around and zoomed back into orbit around its master.

“I swear, these creatures are more trouble than they’re worth… Yes, one more thing: Tell your comrades to secure everything aboard the ship - we are leaving.” As before, the globule circled the snake one more time before speeding off into the palace. The snake turned to the bow of the ship. He slithered over and placed a tapping hand on the dragon’s head.

“But where to go, I wonder… Perhaps we should return to the Dragon’s Foot, mmm?” He looked at the dragon’s head as if it would answer him. To absolutely nobody’s surprise, it didn’t. The snake sighed.

“Come back to me, Xiaoli, I am lonely!” he shouted and raised his fists ominously. No! No time to sulk again, he thought. Some time back in Fengshui Fuyou ought to inspire his writing! Yes! That is what he would do!

And look for Xiaoli along the way, of course.

The snake warmed up his joints with some quick stretching. He rolled his shoulders, stretched his hip, bent his back a few times and craned his neck around. Then, after drinking a few cups of reinvigorating, though poorly made tea, he slapped his palms together. The clash spawned a soundwave that rustled the surrounding woods and sent flocks of birds flapping away from the river in a panic. Part of the river underneath the ship began to climb upwards, sending the boat off on a diagonal path into the sky. Soon thereafter, the skyriver was cut off and a small portion carried the ship to their destination. Shengshi had admittedly not spent his time sulking on practicing this method of travel, as he had been, well, sulking. Therefore, even though they had barely just left Istais heading east, the snake could already feel the strain on his mind from carrying the colossal ship. It was easier than the first time, but he really ought to take some time in the future to just condition his mind. He would have to take a break along the way. He shuddered as he weighed his options.

So, he could either stop in the-... He retched mentally. The ocean…

Or, take the long route, sailing northwards and stopping in… Kalgrun…

The snake took a deep breath and counted to ten. That was -not- an option.

Well, where else could he stop, then? Perhaps he should just go for it? Go all out for once? He could always try, though he was uncertain of what to do if he potentially failed-

The ship groaned as something ground against the hull. The snake lost focus for a spell, causing the ship to drop onto yet another unidentified object, making a deafening crunch as divine wood conquered mortal stone. Still, there was not supposed to be anything but sea here! What on Galbar had he-...

The snake slithered over to the edge and saw the vast, unending forest of peaks, tall and short. In the very, very little smidge at the end of the horizon, he saw hints of dry rocklands that stretched for what remained of even his divine perception range. When had this been made? He sniffed the empty air around him and closed one eye. Yes, certainly - this was fresh land, divine essence still clinging to the surrounding stone like smoke clings to clothing. The essence was strong and smelt oddly of crab, making the snake a little peckish. He dismissed the thoughts about as soon as they had appeared - this was perfect! A place to rest after a long arduous journey. He could keep going for a little while, he thought, take in the sights and whatnot.

The mountains soon gave way to hills, which themselves eventually gave way to empty plains for stone. How big was this continent? It had to be the biggest in the world! How perfectly, well, perfect! Another land to bring the glorious Flow to! The question was, where to introduce it first?

The boat soared across the landscape for what seemed like an eternity, the continent’s size being truly immeasurable. Alas, however, Shengshi spotted the sea at the other end of the continent’s eastern mountain range. Finally, he thought, my eyes were going blind at the sight of all that bright beige. At the food of the mountain range, Shengshi saw a long stretch of bays in all manner of shapes and sizes. He hummed pensively to himself and sent the ship on a gentle dive towards the ground.

As he had suspected these plains seemed almost annoyingly similar to those on the other side of the mountain. However, he had a haunch that this part of the continent would eventually turn into a green bastion of fertility - with some divine aid, of course. He snapped his fingers rhythmically and bobbed his torso as if to hype himself up. He sampled the earth around and shot the mountains another glance. In time, they would fill with snow and feed many thousand rivers - for now, however, he would have to kickstart the process on his own.

The snake took a globule of water from underneath the ship with an elongated “thaaaank you!” and tossed it up and down in his hand playfully as he slithered his way over to an ideal spot. In a barely-curved ravine between two elevated rocks by the shore, he measured an estimate. He then slithered up next to the mountains and did the same. No, something did not feel right. He took a moment to dive into his soul and sample what power he had left. He had not properly rested for some time - blackouts did not count, after all, he thought with a sigh. Whatever he could squeeze out of this globule, it would not form a river to rival Nanhe, sadly. However, he could the very least make a start.

With a joyous whistle, the snake rolled the globule around in his hands; he bounced it on the ground a few times like some ball; finally he chucked it at the stony ground some distance away with so much force that it broke through the top layer of stone. Shengshi pointed casually in the direction he wished for the river to go, and so it did. The ball dug its way through the weakest parts in the stone, leaving behind a track of water. The snake rubbed his chin ponderously - a name for his creation. Something that would inspire creatures to settle by it. He inspected the quality of the river and frowned. The sand and clay in the ground left the waters beige and unappetising - healthy to plants, no doubt, but it was not the sort of water he would brew anything with. He tasted a sample. Certainly, the waters were packed with nutrients for all manner of plants. It would need a name to denote health, in that case. The snake snapped his fingers.

“You, little river, shall be known as Kangjiang.”

Before long, the snake’s creation had snaked its way all the way to the ocean - or had it? There was something odd here. His power was spent, yet he smelt no brackwater in the distance. He slithered into the water and swam downriver.

Upon arriving at the edge, he saw that there was an obstacle in the way that he had not accounted for - a basin, which now slowly was becoming a lake. Shengshi, abhorred at the sight, cast his hand forward, but was greeted with nothing but a small spark from his palm.

“Suppose I am spent, then,” he mumbled angrily to himself. “Worry not, my dearest Kangjiang - I will come back for you and help you escape this midway prison. As for -you-, little lake!” He pointed a condemning finger at the lake, which almost seemed to recoil somewhat. “You will remain exactly where you are - should not be too hard for a static thing like you.” Laughing smugly, the snake slithered back to his ship.

Back at the ship, the snake walked into his chambers. His servants had fixed his door - that was nice, he supposed. The god sat down at his desk, snatched a sheet of rice paper and dipped his brush in ink.



He hummed in approval at the passage. A fine thing to encourage his followers to do - guard the Flow. What else should he tell them to do? Heh, writing laws was a good source of entertainment.



A tear plopped the surface of the rice paper. The snake slowly raised a finger to his eye and poked another salty globe out of its corner, studying it some distance away from his face.

“Practice what you preach, you foolish drunk,” he said with a sigh. “Then perhaps she will come back.”






Parvus began to grow flustered by his thoughts. He emerged from the Hive, and cast his gaze in all directions. He decided to walk towards the Eye of Desolation, vaguely aware of a divine presence in the region. He feared going mad if he lingered within his domain for to long.

As he approached, he was better able to identify the divine presence, Asceal. He announced his presence ”Hello, Asceal.”

”Parvus?” Asceal asked, even speaking telepathically her voice had nervous edge to it, “What are you doing here?”

”I required some time away from my thoughts, and I had noticed a divine presence in this region. I merely wish to talk, if that is acceptable to you.” he said.

The Goddess’s voice seemed calmer as she replied, ”I see. Yes, yes that’s fine. I’m not far from you, would you like to meet in person?”

He simply replied with,”Yes. Should I go to you?”

“To me?” There was a long pause before Asceal continued, “Yes, that’s fine. I’ll be waiting.”

As Parvus continued towards Asceal, he noticed her energy infused the land. The island itself was scorched, and yet he saw some birds fly by him unscathed. Whenever he approached Asceal, he asked, ”While I have certain topics I believe need to be addressed, I believe it will polite to ask if there is anything you wish to speak of first.”

The Goddess swooped down to met him, her landing kicking up a small cloud of ash which she dispelled by flapping the shimmering wings on her back. She regarded Parvus curiously, “I’d ask if you did this,” she gestured to the island around her, “But it would be a meaningless question. It isn’t your essence in the ash, and I don’t think either of us are fool enough to not recognize whose it is.”

There was a slight pause, ”Yes, you are correct.”. There was another small pause, ”If I may be so bold, may I ask what you intend to do? It may not be my place, but you must understand, we are all bound to the fate of Galbar.”

“I’ll wait,” Asceal sighed, “And then when it happens again, and it will happen again, I’ll try and stop it.” She ran a hand through her hair and grimaced, “Katharsos, Melantha, Orvus, Sartravius, they can’t be allowed to keep doing this, not uncontested. I know I can’t stop them, especially not alone, but what am I if I don’t try? I’ve failed enough already.”

Parvus made note of each god she mentioned, ”Orvus is also a concern for us, nature gods. He has attacked Phystene, and thus I am forced to consider how I should handle him.” he said.

“Phystene told me of his promise,” The Goddess’s voice became serious and her body began to glow brighter, “And I swore to her that I’d be there when he tries again.”

”I believe I can trust you with this. Right now, I would rather avoid divine casualties, as it could have unforeseen consequences. I believe I learned more about the nature of divinity, I could weaken and imprison gods. However, that is more easily stated than done. I would appreciate your assistance if it is ever necessary to do this. ” he stated.

“Imprison Orvus?” Asceal asked, her voice tinged with equal parts hope and skepticism, “You think you can do that? I…” She took a moment to breathe, her glow dimming as she did, “I won’t lie and say I don’t prefer that to the alternative. Yes, I’d help you do it, but only it can be done without endangering another. If Orvus comes to finish what he started and you’re not ready Parvus, I will do whatever I have to to save Phystene. You understand?”

Parvus paused, ”I understand. At this time, I can not say if this is possible. I will need time to understand the nature of our domains.” he said, pausing to grab a broken, charred piece of wood and wrapping it in a bag of silk. A faint green glow engulfed the bag, and he handed it to Asceal, ”I wish to give you this. Be gentle with it.”

Asceal eyed the bag questioningly as she took it. The Goddess opened it slightly and looked at Parvus questioningly once she saw the grubs within, “Little animals?” She asked.

Parvus smirked, ”I guess you could refer to them as tiny animals. However, more precisely they are insects, creatures of domain and my ichor. While they may not appear to be much at the moment, they will be more valuable than precious metal.” he gestured to his clothing, ”There are various insects within that bag, but chief among them are the silkworms which make silk and honeybees which make honey. The other insects serve to nourish plant life. Silk is the material which composes my clothing, and honey is a delicious sweet.” he explained.

“Oh,” Asceal closed the bag and held it more gently. She returned Parvus’s smile, “Thank you. Istais, my island, will be richer for having them.”

With that said the Goddess paused and looked over Parvus’s shoulder at the island around them. Asceal’s expression faded and her eyes flicked to the ground where she kicked a small pile of ash over, “As for your project… I truly hope you succeed Parvus. There’s been more than enough suffering already.”

Parvus nodded, ”I need to look into a continent which has sprouted in between my isles and here, and then I will return to research. I wish you luck in your endeavours as well.” he said, bowing.

Asceal watched him depart before she too took her leave, bag in hand.

As the second day dawned upon the mountainous structure of Mt. Eldahverr, the Phoenix rose its head from within its rocky nest to greet the sudden warmth that saturated its rocky beak. The great beast issued a loud creaking yawn as its wings flapped slowly in the howling winds above. Today was the day when it would be ordered by Master Sartr to return back to Muspelheim and upon its command, it would make the long journey back across the vast ocean of Galbar to return home.

Nothing unusual had happened upon his stay on the volcano. He hadn’t seen a god of any kind investigate the erection of what they might call a blemish upon their holy land nor any other hostile creatures approach. Yet it didn’t move anywhere away from the mountain. In fact, the Phoenix was so devoted to its mission that it didn’t take the time to descend from his roost and feed on any life below. Not that there wasn’t much life around there to begin with.

And now it’s already beginning to feel the strain of hunger lash around within its molten belly.

No doubt that it’ll have to find a place upon its travels to satiate its ever growing hunger pains. And it better be soon… for the more it stayed put, the more anxious it became. For one may never know who might stop by his residence next - friendly or not.

A breeze from inland caught up with it from behind, sweeping over it with a whistle. It carried the usual smells - soil, lichen, damp stone. And…

Another waft overtook it, dispersing the distant traces. It was heavy and vile, laden with stenches that jarred with the bare rocky land around it. The reek of iron, alcohol and purulent flesh struck it like the shadow of some foul approaching hulk.

And, indeed, something was approaching. A dark, mountainous blot had appeared on the horizon, and was unmistakably drawing near. Even from afar, it was clear it was immense, perhaps almost as great as Eldahverr itself. The flames burning near its summit gave it an uncanny resemblance to a volcano, if a much more malodorous one.

One waft of such a vile toxic substance was enough to put the Phoenix on high alert. Something definitely wasn’t right here. It rose its head to try and better examine where the scent was coming from. Its nose would then lead it to the other side of the flaming pit and onto the north side of the volcano. And there in the distance, an ominous figure covered in black and as tall as the volcano itself was approaching. No doubt that this was another one of the resident gods wanting to check in on what foreign object had appeared on their home turf. It didn’t take long for the alarm bells start blaring through the creature’s head, stimulating an intense feeling of fight or flight.

However, already having disappointed his Master once already, the terror-bird wasn’t willing to back down from its high ground. No matter how big or tought the opponent may be, it was determined to protect Mt. Eldahverr from all threats that dared to challenge them. The creature extended its massive wings into the air, releasing an intense wave of dry heat and issued a booming screech in defiance to the god’s coming.

"HEED!" the Phoenix boomed defiantly, "YOU TRESPASS UPON THE GROUNDS OF MASTER SARTR! IDENTIFY YOURSELF OR FACE PROSECUTION!"

The gigantic shape did not seem to stop or even slow, growing in size by the moment. Already faint rumbles were heard as immane steps struck down upon the ground in the distance.

A louder sound overtook the colossal impacts, grinding and rumbling like a brewing thunderstorm. It took but a few more strides from the colossus for the peals of roaring laughter to become deafening.

”Sartr?” The voice of the god - who else could it be? - was powerful enough to dislodge pebbles from the earth and send them rolling. ”I think I remember him. Didn’t the water itself refuse to fall on him when I tried to make it? Hah!”

The iron enormity finally came to a halt. Though still quite distant, its four burning eyes were more than high enough to gaze at the Phoenix directly.

”What makes this land his, now? I don’t recall him making it, for sure. And doesn’t he recognise Narzhak, grandest and mightiest of his brothers? Or-” One of Narzhak’s eyes narrowed as its gaze swept over the fiery creature. ”Am I even speaking to him? What’s this new habit of sending flying gnats around everyone has taken up?”

Turns out the hulk of flesh had a name too. Narzhak. The Phoenix had no clue to who he was, but Sartr would’ve immediately recognized him if he were here. And from the sounds of it, they appear to be bitter rivals. But alas, he was not with the Phoenix. The avatar was alone. And what’s worse, its contact with its master hadn’t seemed to have gotten through for the past day - as if it was completely cut off from all contact. So when the God stopped to realize who he was talking too, the terror-bird had no chance but to assert its dominance to the best it could.

"YOU SPEAK TO HIS AVATAR OF FIRE!" the Phoenix boomed as he continued flapping his wings towards him, "I - THE PHOENIX - ALONG WITH MY MASTER, HAVE TAKEN RESIDENCY OF THIS VOLCANO WE HAVE SO ERECTED FROM THE DEPTHS OF THIS BARREN WASTELAND! AND YOU ARE TRESPASSING WITHIN ITS GROUNDS! STATE YOUR BUSINESS OR SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES!"

A low rumbling rose from the god’s invisible throat. ”Avatar? That’s like a-” with motions small for one of such size, but sufficient to grind a mountaintop to dust, he rubbed two of his fingers together with a painfully grating sound, ”lieutenant? Good thought there. I didn’t know that loudmouth had it in him to figure out something like this. Still, your insolence is more annoying than that is impressive.”

Narzhak snapped his fingers out of their scraping, and the ground about his feet fractured, blossoming with towering, cruelly sharp pillars of iron.

”You’d better learn fast, underling, that I go wherever I please whenever I do. This place is in dire need of something to make it less dull, and if you can’t do any better than a smoking hill, get out of my sight. It’s time for a true god to do some work here.”

The Phoenix glared at the intruder’s stubbornness, gritting its beaked teeth, as his metal frameworked grinded towards Mt. Eldahverr. It appeared it would have to fight this god after all. With another mighty caw, the winged beast rose its wings and took flight as it glided down the mountain. As it did so, the volcano began to spew out lava from its dome, with the ash-smoke getting more thick as the eruption commenced.

It wasn’t going to let this intruder take over its property - even if it meant death.

The Phoenix flew over the barren wasteland, spreading its fire and heat upon the lands where they all burned underneath the winged terror. Once in range, it commenced to fire upon the beast with its superheated fiery mouth beam as it aimed for the god’s torso. If connected upon impact, it would surely explode due to its highly volatile nature.

And, with a target as sizeable as that, explode it did. Narzhak growled as he raised a forearm to shield himself from the glare, inching back under the first impact. Streams of molten metal dripped down his armoured bulk from where the scorching blast had struck it. They swiftly froze and were absorbed into the iron surface, adding to the number of its odd ridges and scars.

”If Sartr didn’t give you a brain to know better than this, he won’t be getting the rest of you back either!” He reached towards the ground with his free hand, and iron came surging from it in unnatural upward cascades, coalescing in a tangle of blades and spines large enough to crush a forest. With a surprisingly agile motion despite his mass, the god hurled the makeshift weapon at his winged adversary, immediately grasping for a second metallic surge as soon as it left his grip.

Using the skies to it advantage, the Phoenix was quick to dodge the incoming metallic mass - but only by barely as it nearly scrapped its inner wing. Despite the god’s massive size, he definitely didn’t slouch when engaging in combat. It has to be careful with him, unless it strived to be hit with a powerful wallop in the face. Taking quick notice of the massive gap in between the initial throws, the winged pterosaur took the chance to dive-bomb towards the distracted iron god. Once again it fired its beams in multiple spurts, with several heading attempting to hit his head.

The monstrosity of iron that passed for Narzhak’s head shook as if to chase away something buzzing around it, his angered rumbling rising and fading like the crash and ebb of subterranean waves. Molten craters pitted the blank visor where the blasts struck it, each large enough to sink a town in its churning depths. And yet the colossus only seemed to be growing more furious.

Another jagged mass gathered in his hand, and again he flung it at the Phoenix. This time, the assembly of cutting shards shattered in midair halfway towards its target, dispersing into a hailstorm of spinning razor-sharp scraps and edged fragments. Even as they flew, the god reached down with both arms, digging his claws into the ground. Stone groaned and creaked as he began to lift a piece of soil as large as a small island, tearing it out of the earth as though it were little more than a handful of pebbles.

Sharp bursts of pain sheared themselves into the flying beast’s rocky wings, breaking off chunks of skin as molten ichor dripped from the inflicted wounds. The Phoenix cawed in annoyance as it made a mid-air roll to rid itself of these pesky metal splinters before breaking off his descent and flew over him - dropping molten substance upon Narzhak. Still, it couldn’t help that while its beams were effective to an extent, they wouldn’t be enough to take down - let alone in scaring off - the iron titan of war. It was time to get more acquainted with its foe - up close and personal.

Once again, the Phoenix turned its trajectory at the Iron Giant’s backside, while witnessing him rip a huge island-sized chunk of soil from the ground with minimal effort. Things were already heating up way too quickly for the terror-bird’s liking. It had to make the god drop his load prematurely or be squashed under a million tons of solid rock. Rather than launching a beam, it began to rush towards Narzhak as if about to collide with him. However at the last possible second, the Phoenix rapidly flew his wings back to slow his acceleration and clapped its wings in a devastating sonic boom at point-blank range. The sheer power of that sudden change of energy launched the beast back enough to quickly regain its balance and momentum.

The upward sweep of the god’s arms as he prepared to hurl his load at his opponent stopped abruptly with a flinch. Narzhak’s entire bulk trudged half a gigantic step forward, before beginning to turn about. His hands abruptly tore away from the mass they were holding, sending chunks of rock and earth raining for miles around him. The ground itself trembled as the greatest part of the weight fell back at the titan’s feet, several hills springing into being over that single moment. Clouds of dust and debris rose to blot out the sight of the struggle along with the volcano’s acrid smoke.

Mere instants later, the earth quaked again as those feet stomped down in quick sequence. Heavy beyond measure Narzhak might have been, and deceptively ponderous when he walked at leisure, but he was not sluggish. As the Phoenix righted itself in the air, an immense clawed hand came grasping for it past the veil of drifting detritus. The iron of its skin flowed and reshaped itself as it moved, fingers stretching out into vast blades that stretched its reach twofold. Fast on the momentum he had gained from swivelling about, the god lunged forward with all his body, threads of iron weaving themselves between his lengthening fingers in a net that closed in towards his winged foe.

The net launched towards the Phoenix’s head, successfully and miraculously ensnaring the creatures head in an iron cage. "GAGH! GET OFF ME YOU ROTTEN FILTH!" the Phoenix screeched desperately as it attempted to shake it off, firing multiple beams wildly like a bird in a spider’s web. This was the entire Arae situation all over again, only concentrated on its massive head rather than his entire body. Forced to land, the Phoenix tugged at its opponent’s hand before attempting to use all of its strength to launch itself into the air and free itself from his grasp.

”Hrhah-ah!” Narzhak’s good humour appeared to be fast to rebound from irritation. His growling laugh churned once more from within his throat, despite his prey’s fiery struggles melting parts of his now webbed hand to slag. Wherever a link was broken, new metallic cords sprouted to replace it. ”See your place now, pest?”

With a mighty pull, he brought his forearm to bear over the Phoenix’s trapped head, its weight rising like an iron wall in the way of its attempts to break lose. For a moment it rose, forced up by the creature’s efforts; he pushed down stronger, almost leaning upon it with half a shoulder.

”It wouldn’t surprise me by now if your master really was careless enough to leave your skull empty. But I like to be certain of things.” The web tightened as the gargantuan hand began to close on its quarry. ”Let’s find out.”

He squeezed.

And the harder he squeezed, the more the agony befell the fallen Phoenix as his screeches of aggression turned into wails of torment With its neck badly sprained and its head within a cold tight embrace, the flying beast found itself at the Iron Giant’s mercy. Its vision was fading, its mind going numb, and its screeches turning ever softer per passing second.

"M-Maaaaaaasterrrr..." the Phoenix whispered weakly as its world was closing in, "I’ve… failllllled you… my embers... shall scatter throughout the world… never… to be seen… again..."

Expecting its imminent demise, the Phoenix attempted to let go of his struggle and have fate guide the beast towards oblivion. Surely Master Sartr would be disappointed in his first avatar. Surely he’d let him die. But as the dam was about to let in the flood of darkness, a bright flicker of flame suddenly popped within its sub-conscious.

”NO.” a deep resenting voice echoed.

Then, another flicker revealed alongside it, which revealed two fiery eyes that pierced into the collapsing void.

”NO!”

Then the flame exploded to encapsulate the Phoenix’s mind, clearing its vision of the darkness and replacing it with a red-hot glow. The terror-bird eyes were glowing a furious orange as its body was given new life! Its head lifted unnaturally to face it’s cruel adversary, as it gave off an ominous garbled rumble through its molten esaphogus.

”YOU WILL TREMBLE AGAINST MY MIGHT!” the voice of Sartr roared as he now took control of the Phoenix’s rattled body.

Then the mighty pterosaur began to levitate off the ground, slowly ascending into the sky with the iron cage still attached. Yet as the blazing heat that extruded from its body began to rapidly rise, the metal structure would begin to feel its effects, costing it to melt off the Phoenix’s head. Still the beast rose, higher and higher, until it stopped suddenly above Narzhak. And then…

”SCRAWWWWWWWWWWWWW!”

A violent explosion raptured throughout the Phoenix’s body as raw fire completely encapsulated the mighty beast, while throwing a shockwave of ungodly heat in every direction. The ground below was utterly scorched by the blazing heat, the soil crystalizing into a rough rocky substance. The rocks began to violently melt all around, quickly reforming into minuscule pieces of sand, as the shockwave spreaded for hundreds of miles. Every flat surface ranging as far west towards the looming Cauldron, to the northern peaks of the Qiangshan Mountains, the World Scar, and bowling itself within the eastern mountains, was turned into fine sand for miles on end. Even the temperature of the affected locations began to raise unnaturally into a dry and hot environment.
The entire sector had been turned into a blazing desert - born from the rage of a god.

And, in the midst of it, a single towering figure stood bemusedly gazing at its hand.

”You little...” Narzhak snarled, none too pleased with the experience. Most of the metallic skin on his appendage had, despite its thickness, liquefied and dripped away, exposing the nauseous fleshy pulp beneath. Its gnarled fingers were charred in stripes, slivers and scraps sloughing from them or outright crumbling to ash and joining the sand at his feet.

Four incandescent glares rose to meet the rekindled Phoenix. ”Your gizzard being fuller than your head only tells me what I’ll need to tear out first.” A foot rose, like a hammer poised to strike, and fell.

This time, the ground did not simply shake. Spasms wracked it like the grip of a fever, the earth moaning and screaming in agony at the violence the wrathful god wrought upon it. Fissures spread to all sides from his foot, the sands immediately swallowing them, only to expose new gaps as they flowed. Echoes of the shock propelled mounds and dunes upwards, birthing uneven slopes and treacherous chasms. And, even as it squirmed under Narzhak’s fury, the earth answered.

All throughout the newly formed waste, the surface of the ground was broken by vicious clutches of iron rising to pierce the sand and sky. Dagger-like pillars, razor-edged spirals, spiked pyramids of the shining metal stood at once like a legion of awakened corpses clawing their way out of shallow graves. Some shards were spat out by the soil, arcing through the air and burrowing back like wounding blades as they landed.

Narzhak’s burned hand grasped one of the metallic formations that had burst out the closest to him, and it flowed around the clutches like a stream. The exposed fingers were covered in armour once again, then another layer, then another. In a heartbeat, the god’s right forearm had become a thick maul, large enough to level mountaintops with a sweep. Lacerating thorns dotted its surface, and its tip extended into a fearsome barb.

”Come now,” the Iron Giant rumbled, the taunt resurfacing in his voice, ”I’m curious to see what’s inside the rest of you.”

The Phoenix’s head snapped down at the rival god as Sartr’s gaze stiffened. However the fire god would not speak or mutter a single syllable - not even to mention the accessories that he had given towards this sandy hell. Instead, his gaze shifted below the giant’s feet and from it, the ground below began to intensify. Combined with the reflective glow of the sun, the sand began to grow hotter - hot enough to turn the ground into solid shards of glass. The surrounding area in fact had begun erecting tiny participles of sharp piercing glass, one which Sartr had proceeded to lift into the air with a massive gust of wind.
The sand behind Sartr began to lift themselves high into the air - the several million participles coming together to erect a massive wall of floating sand and deadly particles. Tiny glimmers of needle-shaped glass bits could be seen dazzling within the chaos brewing within the newly erected sandstorm as the terror-bird flapped its wings to send this massive barrage straight towards Narzhak. It engulfed the two gods in a blinding storm, one so thick that the sun was nearly covered by this suffocating substance.

And that’s when the Phoenix rushed towards the blinded iron god, sinking its talons deep into its opponent’s armor and flesh like a hot knife through butter, as it attempted to lift their god off the ground with great force. And with a mighty heave, they attempted to launch him far back into the blazing sands and towards one of the giant iron structures ahead.

Taken by surprise by his adversary’s unexpected strength, the colossus staggered a step backwards, carving through the gleaming monolith. His left hand rose to sweep the fiery bird away, even as his new weapon’s tremendous size was turned against itself, the cumbersome scourge too unwieldy to swing in such close quarters.

Yet, forced back against the metallic formation, Narzhak found himself in his element. Iron flowed from the spire and around his body, shooting forth from his chest in a circle of immense spears. As the hastily conjured darts thrust at the Phoenix, the god stepped backwards once more, black ichor from open gashes spraying in his wake. He spared no words for it, but, finding room for a strike, swung his maul-hand against the avatar.

The spears found their mark by burrowing right through the Phoenix’s wings, each spurting out shots of molten essence from their wounds, however the flying beast didn’t seem to take much note of their presence. In fact, the longer they were lodged in, the heat began to quickly melt the iron spears into a dark-silver liquid and rendered them efficiently harmless. Sartr’s laugh could be heard echoing from the Phoenix’s beak as it watched the iron god throw his essence around.

”FOOL!” the fire god boomed haughtily, ”YOUR WORTHLESS METAL HAS NO EFFECT AGAINST THE RAW POWER OF THE FIRE GOD’S BURNING ESSENCE! LEAVE THIS AREA OR I SHALL GLADLY MELT YOUR IRON AND FLESH ALTOGETHER!”

Of course, Narzhak didn’t seem to take the message as he swung his blunt mawl towards the Phoenix. This time however, the fire beast was able to dodge it with ease as it countered with another blast of a white-hot beam straight into the god’s face.

The flames in the giant’s eyes sputtered in the approximation of a wince. He shook his head as if to disperse a daze, all while lifting another piece of metal from the shattered obelisk. The iron stretched and flattened in a wide disk, forming the simulacrum of a vast shield fastened to the god’s left forearm. As his glare blazed up again amid the dripping helm, the spiked maul was brought to bear again - then stopped as he seemed to consider the Phoenix’s words for the first time.

”Fire god? So it’s actually you.” The makeshift bulward was held up to fend off any more interrupting blasts. ”If I’d known I just had to beat your puppet enough for you to finally answer, I’d have done it faster. Have you really gone from making an upcry about existing to shouting over heaps of stones?” He gestured, rather dismissively, at the smouldering Eldahverr.

The volcano continued to spew its unhealthy dose of molten magma and suffocating ash across the desert, with miniature thunderstorms crackling inside the hellish inferno. At the rate it was bellowing, it could cover the surrounding area for miles on end if left unchecked. Yet Sartr didn’t matter what destruction and misery he caused - for he was already pissed enough at the iron god as is.

”AND HOW LOW HAVE YOU DARED GO TO CHALLENGE MY FLAME, METAL GIANT?” the God roared questioningly as he bursted another beam of hot fire towards his adversary, ”YOU’D HAVE BEEN MORE THE WISER TO STAY FAR AWAY FROM MY BEAUTIFUL INFERNO! BUT NOW YOU WILL BURN AS YOU FIND YOUR METAL SKIN MELTING BACK INTO THE GROUND OF WHICH YOU’VE CAME!”

Still the heat around them continued to rise, already high enough to make the air quiver. More and more clouds of sand, glass, and ash, rose to choke the sky. Had anyone but a divine been nearby, they would have been hard-pressed to breathe. Myriads of sharp particles hovered around like minuscule unseen blades, all mercilessly scraping and scratching anything they lighted upon.

”There is no high or low in war, you should know,” Narzhak retorted, holding up his shield to absorb the brunt of Sartr’s incandescent assault. ”And if you hadn’t boiled your own brains, you’d remember I don’t come from the ground, or at least have a better eye for beauty.” He seemed to be about to continue his jeering, but stopped short, casting a glance around himself.

”But look at this.” Around them, the boundless desert glistened like a sea with waves of steel and glass. Beyond the choking emanations of the struggle, the landscape was unearthly, fearsome, oddly striking and pitiless at once. ”Despite your lacking taste, we’ve made quite a piece of work here. I’ll say,” he turned his gaze back towards the Phoenix, ”You know that overgrown kite of yours wouldn’t melt my finger if it blew for years, I could be here swinging at it all day, and there’s plenty still left for me to do elsewhere. I call for a truce until we can have a battle proper worthy of gods like us. Face to face, army to army. Deal?”

The Flaming God was still no-less disappointed that Narzhak refused to yield in defeat, however he would be lying if he didn’t find his rival’s idea enticing. Warriors of heat and fire battling out against warriors of iron - he could see it all take place within the expanse of his chaotic mind. And he sees himself guiding an army - one so vast and ruthless that it would engulf the world of Galbar into cinders. Just to see the Iron god at last tremble against him and a sea of vicious warriors was something he couldn’t bare to pass up. Sartr cocked his avatar’s head towards him before a molten grin rippled across the avian’s beak.

”SO BE IT!” Sartr replied smugly with a deadly dosage of excitement, ”GO FORTH AND CREATE YOUR LITTLE IRON FIGURINES. UNTIL THEN I WILL FORGE THE LARGEST ARMY THAT THE WORLD HAS EVER SEEN - ONE THAT WILL DETERMINE WHO REALLY IS THE STRONGEST OF THEM ALL AND ENGULF GALBAR IN A SEA OF MOLTEN DESOLATION! HEED MY WARNING BROTHER, FOR I WILL NOT GO EASY ON YOUR PITIFUL SOUL ONCE THAT DAY COMES-FORTH!”

”I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Narzhak rumbled in amusement, evidently pleased with himself. ”Don’t make me wait too long, or that day might catch you unawares when it comes. Until then...”

The god shook his hands, casting off the conjured weapons in a shower of fragments great and small. Then, with a movement that looked as though a mountain had been suddenly sliced from its foundation, he swung about and was off, trudging heavily among the iron monuments. In a few minutes, he was once more but a large dim blot on the horizon.

With the Iron Giant finally departing from the sector, the furious sandstorm began to slowly die down. In addition, Mt. Eldahverr’s eruption was also ceasing as the thick smoke and ash became less prevalent, and the lava beginning to harden into obsidian. Feeling satisfied by the outcome, Sartr proceeded to evacuate his control from his avatar’s body, allowing the terror-bird to finally regain himself. The Phoenix crashed onto the sandy surface and began to pant profusely and regain its strength.

The battle had finally concluded - leaving the environment around the two gods as a barren desert wasteland with iron structures dotting across the field.

Once comfortable, the giant avian slowly got to its feet as it could feel his dark-crimson body aching in miserable pain.

"I’m… sorry, Master Sartr.", the creature cackled raspily towards the fire god, "Without your help… I would’ve most certainly perished. But I still… accept any punishment given to me."

”SURELY YOU REQUIRE MORE TRAINING EXPERIENCE, PHOENIX.” Sartr responded in a stern yet understanding tone, ”WHEN WORD COMES OUT OF OUR CONQUEST OF THIS WORLD, THE REST OF THE GODS SHALL COME FOR US.”

The Phoenix nodded understandingly as he observed the sands around them.

”BUT I SHALL SPARE MY WRATH UPON YOU TODAY,” the flame god explained mercifully, ”NARHZAK’S PRESENCE WAS UNEXPECTED - AND YOU ONLY NEED TRAINING. BUT FAIL ME INCOMPETENTLY AGAIN, AND I’LL INDEED GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO CRY ABOUT. UNDERSTAND?”

A weak sigh of relief rushed from the avian’s jagged beak.

"Yes Master… I understand..." the Phoenix nodded.

”GOOD” Sartr replied satisfactory, ”NOW RETURN TO MUSPELL AT ONCE. WE MUST CONTINUE TO FORGE PLANS FOR THE EVENTS AHEAD.”

"It shall be done." the terror-bird responded as it began to spread its wings and take off.

Once airborne, it proceeded to leave Mt. Eldahverr and the scorching desert behind. From the fire and iron of the two violent gods, they had both unintentionally helped in the creation of this vast and harsh ecosystem. With rolling dunes and deep cravasses these lands would henceforth be called...

The Plains of Sandravii.

---

Time passed, as Kalmar taught Arya the basics of survival. He taught her how to craft a crude mundane spear from wood, and then showed her how to fish with it. He taught her how to make a fire and cook. He even trained her on the basics of combat. He crafted a bow for her by hand, and showed her how to shoot it. “Every kill must serve a purpose,” Kalmar had told her. “You should use as much of it as you can, and you should never kill just for the sake of killing.”

“I believe you have mastered the essentials,” Kalmar finally told her one day.

”Are you sure?” Arya had asked, standing taller than ever before. She felt a bit of pride even. She had learned so much from him, and for that she would forever be thankful, even indebted. Kalmar had shown her kindness when she needed it most, and through the long nights she had even found a semblance of companionship, but something in her heart told her it wouldn’t last forever. So each and everyday, she had gotten the most out his teachings. And then that day came.

”There is still more to learn,” Kalmar continued. ”But I cannot teach it to you here - this land has only a swamp, a river, a lake, and a marsh,” he confessed. ”And it will be a long time before I can add anything more.” He paused, letting her digest that information. ”But there is another land to the southeast, with more ecosystems, and more to experience. If you want to continue learning, it would be best to go there.”

With a solemn expression in her eyes, she had nodded approvingly even if in her heart she wanted to stay. Kalgrun had grown on her in an odd way, it felt homely. But it wasn’t really her home, was it? Just as quickly her expression had changed to that of joy and she spoke excitedly, ”I understand. So when do we leave?”

”I will not be going with you,” Kalmar told her. ”I have another task to attend to,” he said, thinking of her father. ”We will meet again. But for now, I want you to practice what you learned without my help. Arryn will accompany you, and I will find you when my task is complete.”

Her eyes expressed sadness by the time Kalmar had finished talking, but once again, she understood. ”Very well, I will practice and I shall win. Thank you, for everything Kalmar.” She said, looking around for Ary. A nickname she had started calling the avatar.

Kalmar nodded. Arryn was perched on a nearby tree, and let out a sound to catch her attention. ”Grab your spear, your bow, and your arrows,” Kalmar instructed her. ”And I will leave you with one final lesson. Out there, you may feel fear. A feeling that you can’t handle what is in front of you, that you don’t know how to proceed. Do not listen to this feeling; if you do, then it will come true. Stay calm, remember what I taught you, and you will succeed.”

Arya nodded in return, grabbed her items and looked back at Kalmar as she raised her hand for Ary. She was happy, a nervous, and maybe even a little scared, but if she was ever going to get back to her true home again, she needed to grow.

”Kalmar,” she started as Arryn began to swoop down, ”You should smile more. I like that smile.” And then the avatar grabbed her, and the journey to new lands had begun.

Kalmar gave his thin smile as he watched her leave, and then felt a strange tug in his heart. It was… sadness? Worry? He tried to shake it off. She would be fine, and if she wasn’t… well, he did what he could, and she couldn’t stay with him forever. Yet still, the feeling did not go away. Instead he turned his gaze south, in the direction of the nearly erected, still barren continent, and took flight on a course of his own.

As Kalgrun became a blur beneath her feet, and the vast ocean sprang up to meet them, Arya couldn’t help but laugh, ”Come on Ary! Let’s go on an adventure!”

”SCREEEEEEE!”

---

The skies drifted lazily across the sky as the falcon rose and dove in accordance with the air currents. The air grew warmer as they floated eastwards, the steam of the Saluran Mendidih influencing the air even up here. The distant greens of the Nanhe jungles bloomed across the horizon, contrasted by a black column of ash and smoke from Mount Eldahverr cutting the horizon short at its very edge. The very southern tip of the continent betrayed a grey, barren spot - thankfully under assault from the surrounding forest, slowly being re-consumed by the unyielding life.

Her world was vivid canvas of new colors, sights and smells as Ary flew over rock and stone, plant and life. The small girl was completely astonished by everything she saw. Such things Kalmar had never told her about were even more so impressive. To the strange, distant steam rising from the sea between the vast rocks, to the distant smoke that rose up, up and up! But with all the life, she was taken aback by the large, ugly stain of destruction she saw that marred the land. For some odd reason, she felt a connection to it, but as she saw the swathes of green that slowly encircled the stain, even breaching it in places, she felt relieved and the connection faded.

“How peculiar,” a disembodied voice thundered around the duo, or more specifically - from behind. A flash of gold and glitter that nearly rivalled the sun blasted past the two, nearly casting their shadows onto the empty air in front of them.

Arryn stopped, hovered in place for a few moments, and turned Arya around.

Behind them was the colossal, snarling head of a dragon, coated in gold leaf. The head’s neck stretched downwards underneath what could only be described as an enormous ship’s hull, perfectly crafted with multiple shades of mahogany. The dragon’s head was flanked with golden railings adorned with pearls and small, draconic statues, and behind it rose first a tall spire, backed by a taller spire - both bejeweled with gold and stones to the point of redundancy. To crown this creation of divine excess, the roofs of the towers consisted of green jade tiles, with more golden dragon statues at the corners. On top of the dragon’s head stood a tall, red-scaled, serpentine humanoid and plucked at its braided beard.

“I have seen many sights throughout creation, yet none quite like this…” it said, evidently amused judging by the following chuckle.

The voice had startled Arya, and had broken her attention from the world below, up to what was around her. Then all of a sudden something massive flew by them, and for a brief moment Arya remembered the monster in the sea, and her eyes went wide. Could there be monsters that flew as well? But Kalmar’s words echoed in her head, she couldn’t show fear! She had to face it!

And when Arryn turned around, Arya came face to face with a monster! Its visage was horrific, but even though it wanted to eat her, because that’s what predators did, she noted how beautiful it looked. But then nothing happened, it didn’t attack her, or come any closer. It just sort of...died and she was curious. Looking past the dragon’s head, she saw what the monster truly looked like and slowly, she began to laugh, high melodious notes. It was not in fact a monster at all, but something else entirely, the ship Kalmar had mentioned! Then that meant…

And as Shengshi spoke, for that was who he was, her gaze turned to him and she marveled at his body. It was completely different then Kalmar’s Arryn’s and even her own. Not one to be rude, she spoke aloud merrily, ”Oh! Hello!”

There was a long quiet pause, the kind in which the air fills with a seething fume that alerts a possible transgression of norms. There was a long inhalation sound, the wiff-through-the-nose kind, and a pensive hum from the bow of the ship. The snake frowned in the girl’s direction.

“... Mortal,” he hissed. “Tell me, are you a gift, by chance?”

Arya cocked her head when Shengshi asked her that question. It was a strange one, and it brought back some memories. Unpleasant ones.

”Well…” she began softly, ”My father wouldn’t call me that. Quite the opposite, actually.” She finished with a hint of dejection in her voice.

There was another hum from the ship, then a snap. Suddenly, a limb of water shot out from underneath the ship, soaring towards the two in the blink of an eye. What happened next was a blur. Arryn tried his best to bank away from its course, but could not quite escape the grasp, and his right wing was caught a large fist of water. The two were carried towards the ship and gently placed down on deck.

One minute they were hovering in the air, then the next a stream of water grabbed Ary and pulled the both of them onto the ship. Once she landed, Arya immediately grabbed Ary and like a worried mother, began to soothe him.

”Oh Ary, are you alright! Are you hurt?” she mewled softly to the bird, before looking up at Shengshi, her eyes now expressing anger.

”That wasn’t nice! You could have hurt Ary!” she said upset, ”Why would you do that? If you wanted us on board, all you had to do was ask!” she finished, rocking the avatar like a swaddled child.

Arryn was quite alright. He shook free of Arya’s grip and flew up onto her shoulder, glaring at the lizard and protectively raising one of his wings. His master had told him about this creature, and though the lizard had not been described as a hostile threat, it had not exactly been a glowing account. His duty was to protect Arya, so that was what he would do.

The snake sneered at the girl, but cupped his hand in an inviting gesture. “I apologise from the bottom of my heart, young one,” he began, “I was perhaps a little rash in my action - I merely wanted you aboard so you could conserve your strength. Now, if you would be so kind as to humour me by answering three questions, my gratitude to you would be immeasurable.” He bowed to her to demonstrate his statement.

Arya was happy to see Arryn fly to her shoulder, he seemed quite alright, which was a relief. What would she tell Kalmar if something happened to him? Hopefully that would never happen. And so she listened to the snake speak, and she squinted her eyes, something wasn’t quite right about this one. He seemed… insincere yet blanked the air with an apology. How odd.

”Hmph.” she let out before saying, ”It’s nicer to ask instead of using force. Please remember that. Now, what are these questions of yours?” she asked while stroking Arryn’s cheek.

The snake dipped even lower for a moment. “Of course, young one - your anger is certainly justified. My action was unacceptable and I pray I may be forgiven in time.” He straightened himself back up, a blank expression tainted perhaps by a slight frown engraved on his face.

“Now, if you do not mind, I shall ask the first question.” He cleared his throat for effect. “Who are you?”

She nodded approvingly, still not quite believing the snake. He seemed, unhappy about something. But that was no excuse for not being polite.

”Well, that’s simple,” she said, ”My name is Arya, and this here is Arryn, but I like to call him Ary.” she stroked the bird again.

The snake nodded slowly, shooting the bird a particularly suspicious glare. “How splendid. What are you doing here?”

”Currently, I’m answering questions.” Arya mused.

There came an audible sigh that bordered on a groan from the snake, but apart from a slightly shaky fist, the creature remained unmoving. He even cracked what could generously be called a smile.

“Hah. A jester, I see,” he mused coldly. “Very well. I have one last question, if you would not mind.” He gave her a malicious wink.

Kalmar’s words echoed in her head once more, she couldn’t be afraid. But the snake was doing a very good job at making her frightened. She had to stand up to him as well it seemed. But first, she needed to ask her own question.
”Are… Are you going to hurt me?” she asked innocently.

The snake visibly recoiled with an audible scoff, placing a palm on his chest. “Hurt you? Oh no, no, no…” He slithered a little closer, his hands gathering behind his back. “That would be poor etiquette - a little bit like ‘not answering a question’, yes?” His forked tongue stabbed at the air mere inches from Arya’s face.

”Oh okay!” she exclaimed. ”Your scales are really pretty this close. So what was your final question?” Arya asked.

“Why, thank you,” he said and chuckled. “You are cute, I will admit as much - yet the final question remains.” He pulled back a little and looked to the side. “Do you know who I am?”

”Of course! You are Shengshi, God of Rivers and this is your beautiful boat! I don’t know it’s name though. Kalmar told me about all the gods when he found me but I guess he forgot to mention that. What do you call this place?” she asked cheerfully.

Shengshi’s face contorted into a mixture of every possible emotion, though the most evident ones were rage and confusion, as displayed by unevenly raised brows and grinding teeth.

“So, you mean to tell me that you were completely aware of who I was - and you still held that demeanor?” The snake’s voice could not decide either whether it wanted to scream in rage or inquire quietly.

Arya watched Shengshi’s face contort into rage, and her own expression became one of concern. She began to speak quickly, ”Oh! Are you okay? What did I do! Please, please don’t be angry! I don’t know what you mean. What demeanor? I’m sorry.” she began to tremble.

”Show strength,” Arryn’s voice - a voice he rarely used - advised within her head. ”He sees your fear.”

At once she felt calm, and her trembling stopped. She relaxed, and tried to reassess the situation. She couldn’t show her fear, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be compassionate. The snake looked like he was hurting, and she hated to see that.

She took an audible breath, and spoke again. ”I apologize for any offense, Shengshi. I did not have time to think about any sort of demeanor after being forcefully dragged onto your ship. My priority was Arryn.” she finished, hoping she said the right thing.

The snake placed two index fingers on his lips and let out a long, very long sigh. “No, no, you are not at fault here, young one - you simply (how to put this delicately?) received your education from the wrong source.” His scowl turned to a warm smile. “You would naturally not know how to properly act towards-”

”Hold your tongue,” Arryn spoke sharply, not telepathically, but out loud.

The snake ran his eyes up and down the bird’s figure, letting out a single cold scoff. “I thought I smelled the unwashed spawn of that barbarian. Does he send spies my way to ensure my loyalty, now?”

”Hold. Your. Tongue.” Arryn repeated, the edge in his voice rising, with a hint if outrage. ”You had no right to drag us here, and you have no right to insult my creator.”

Arya was highly confused at the sudden outbursts on either side, so much so it did more to frighten her then anything else.

”S-Stop!” she said meekly, but neither of them seemed to notice.

“An interesting claim - ‘no right to insult my creator’,” the snake mused. He repeated it a few more times as if tasting the words. The ship had, at this point, already descended to the point where it was a mere hundred metres off the river surface of Nanhe. “Your creator, bless his heart, may be skilled in chucking spears and rocks and setting animal waste aflame...” The snake closed in on the two, completely ignoring the poor, little girl. “It should be no secret to him nor his creations that what love I have for him is cordial at best. He is more than welcome at my table; however, know this, little bird-” The snake stabbed a clawed finger into the air in front of the bird’s beak. “- My holy body will be rotting for eternity and my soul shattered into a billion fragments before I consider your creator anything above scum. Now… Get off my ship before I send him another carcass to skin.”

The bird glared back. A few tense moments passed, as Arryn locked eyes with Shengshi. ”Arya,” he said, his voice telepathic once more, so that only she could hear. ”When I strike, run to the edge, and jump. There is water beneath us. Do not hesitate, and do not look back.”

Arya had listened to Shengshi with black tears streaming down her face. He words were so… so cruel. What they both said was rude to the other, and she had no idea why they would act in such away. But it came obvious as Shengshi went on, the two Gods did not like one another, that much was true. They seemed to hate each other. And though she was afraid of Shengshi, and thankful for Kalmar, she saw the look in the snake’s eye. The rage, the anger, and behind it all- sadness. As to what she did not know, but she wanted to find out. Kalmar had taught her how to survive, and she wasn’t going to survive with a baby sitter, as much as he was cute.

So, Arya placed Arryn on the ground, then walked in front of him, in between the two bickering divines.

”No Arryn. You beautiful creature. No. I know that Kalmar wanted you to watch over me, and I know that you would faithfully, but how can I survive on my own if I have help? How can I grow? How can I learn if I have a guiding hand?” here eyes smiled softly as she paused, ”Please, go home Arryn. For me? It’ll be alright. I’ll...I’ll be okay. Tell Kalmar that… That I’ll win.” she said before turning around to face the snake.

”Do not speak ill of Kalmar, please.” she said defiantly, ”He took me in when I was lost. When I was afraid. When I was alone… He taught me how to survive, but his lessons only went so far. So I will ask you this, Shengshi, God of Rivers- Teach me. Teach me what he could not. So that I can learn more. So I can face my fears.” she asked as her eyes softened.

Arryn was betrayed. A moment ago, he had been ready to put his life on the line for the honour of his master. He would have clawed out the lizard’s eyes and presented them to Kalmar as a trophy. He would have gotten Arya away from his toxic influence. Yet Arya had turned on him. Shocked and devastated, he could find not words. He knew there was some truth in her words, and perhaps his master would have even approved of some of it, yet to leave like this...

The ship landed softly on the river. The snake’s bloodthirsty glare moved from the bird to Arya’s face like the face of the moon: menacingly slowly. However, at the mentioning of Arya’s loneliness, it seemed that something with those blazing eyes stirred, a movement that expanded outwards until all the fury in the snake’s visage had given way to pity. He let out a sigh.

“You are a piece of work, young one,” he said. After a short pause, he snickered softly and turned to give the bird a stern scowl. “Bird.”

”My name is Arryn.” The bird hissed defiantly, despite his heartbreak.

“I could write ten classics about how little I care. Your protectee has made her request - and we will both honour it. We may both share little but spite for one another, but she is guilty of nothing but being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Her wishes are above our feud.”

Arryn was silent. His will to fight was gone, and he wanted to leave, yet he also could not do so without another show of defiance, some sort of last word. ”You were of a different mind not ten seconds ago,” he said, and then he took flight.

The snake sighed, a tint of regret plaguing his voice. “I know… The river adapts… And I am sorry.” He turned to the girl and put his hands behind his back.

“You are certain about this, then?” he inquired softly, his face betraying nothing but weariness.

Arya had watched Arryn fly off until he was but a speck in the sky. One of her only friends, hurt beyond measure, because of her. She hoped what she was doing was worth it. She turned around as Shengshi spoke, fresh tears falling down her face.

”If I ever want to return home…” she said, glancing up at the moon, ”I have to learn and grow and win. So yes, I am certain.” Arya said with confidence.

The snake nodded somberly. He slithered closer and bowed before the mortal. He straightened back up and eyed her up and down.

“Three things before we begin: One, in my domain, there is only -one- religion: Hierarchy. I, your lord, am at the top. Where are you?”

”Beneath my lord.” she said, catching on quickly.

“Very good. Two, only the lord is worthy of addressing oneself as ‘I’ or, for the fancier lot, ‘we’. The servants, that being you, will address themselves as “this servant” or “Your servant”. Say ‘I agree’ if you understand.”

”I-” she let slip out before shaking her head, ”This servant agrees.” That was close, too close. She’d have to watch herself. That was going to be difficult.

The snake smiled warmly. “Very, very good. You are quite the quick learner, dearest. Thirdly…” He plucked at his beard. “You will need a new name.” He hummed ponderously. “Arya is coarse - painful on the tongue.”

Arya stood up straighter at the mention of a new name. Her eyes expressed a profound sense of sorrow. She liked Arya. She was Arya. Then again, Kalmar had also said that a name was just a name. One could take others, she would have to do the same. But in that moment, she promised herself, she would never forget Arya- her first name.

The snake snapped his fingers. Two water globule servants stormed out the gates of his palace with a sheet of rice paper and a calligraphy brush, already tipped with ink.

“Your name already has two syllables. That is a good number.” He let his pencil dance across the surface of the paper. “Your role is that of servant, but for your willingness to serve, you shall be granted a name befitting your sacrifice.” He wrote down two characters and then handed the paper to Arya.

Arya was surprised to see the water servants appear from seemingly out of nowhere, and produce such strange items for Shen- For her master. After a moment, he bestowed upon her the thin piece of material that held strange, black tears on it’s surface. She looked at it, very, very hard. Then back to Shengshi.

”This...This servant...is...grateful?” she said unsure of herself. How exactly did this pertain to a new name? It was nothing to her but strange.

“You will learn to read posthaste. For now, I will read for you.” The snake held his palm over her head and commanded proudly: “I welcome you into my court, my servant, and bless you with the name Anxin - ‘heart of peace’. Serve me well and endless wealth shall be yours.”

Oh! That made sense, somewhat. She had no idea what reading was, but it sounded like something one should know, but more importantly she had a new name. Anxin. It was… strange, but just like Arya, it fit.

”Anxin…” she said aloud, letting the words echo about her, before looking up at her master. ”This servant is humbled. Thank you, my lord.”

The snake nodded. “You learn fast, my dear. The servants will show you to your room. I advise you to rest up before we begin your lessons.” With that, the snake turned and slithered into the palace.

Arya watched him go, then looked back out across the horizon. As the water servants began to shuffle her away and inside, she let out a sad sigh, ”I never said goodbye…”

And then the ship swallowed her.

---

The Hunter’s Flight

The coast of Kalgrun vanished behind him, and the coast of Atokhekwoi came within view, though Kalmar did not know the continent’s name as of yet. He soared over it, flying up and down, scanning the fresh barren rock, searching for a suitable location.

He found one in the continent’s northeastern corner. A vast mountain. He did not know it, but it was called Mount Chop. The Hunter flew up to its peak and set himself down. From here, he could see in every direction. Nothing would surprise him. Content with the summit’s defensible position, he closed his eyes, and focused.

”Orvus.” The God of the Hunt said, reaching out telepathically, ”We need to talk.”

---

Parvus
____

As Parvus walked, ocean water eventually gave way to land. Consumed by his thoughts, he did not notice immediately. He continued to walk to the western shore of the peninsula. He examined the barren region. He reached into the ground, grabbing a chunk of stone from it. With his hands, he molded into a stick.

His travels eventually lead him to the southern-most point of the western shore of the peninsula. His thoughts were elsewhere, and he nearly began to shape the earth before his eyes glanced back to the rock stick he was carrying. His eyes turned to the ocean, eating away at the rocky shore. He cast his thoughts of war and destructive gods away so that he could focus on the task at hand.

He imbued the rock stick he was carrying with life and tossed it into the ocean. When it landed, it began to grow into a mangrove tree. It rooted itself into the shallows, and as it did, more of its kind sprouted. He took a leaf from his hand, crushed it into dust, and threw his fist into the ground. The rocky surface gave way to mud. As soon as the ground softened, grasses appeared over it. Reeds, mangroves, and other salt-tolerant plants grew within the marsh.

Waves broke against the roots of the mangrove trees, but the ocean water still flowed into the muddy ground. The insect god felt his energy wane, and he grew physically tired. With the remaining vestiges of power, he conjured animals from the mud. Insects, fish, crustaceans, reptiles, and birds emerged from the waterlogged landscape.

He examined his newly formed marsh briefly. He then began to walk towards the Fel Isles, slower than usual. While his mind was preoccupied with thought, his foot dipped behind the water. He shrugged this off and eventually walked into his garden. Laying under his apple tree, he contemplated.

---

”Ah… The wind is so nice today...” Muttered a certain, angelblue-haired Goddess. She sighed happily as she dipped her toes into the boiling lake, sitting herself on the edge of a small and shoddily constructed dock. In the past, doing such a thing would’ve been dangerous and outright stupid, but with the body of an immortal, boiling water could do no harm to her, and in fact felt rather nice and cleansing!

”Usually it’s way too cloudy and misty to see anything, but today the wind has been so lively… Really,” The woman tilted her head back and looked up at the sky, to see the plume of steam being blown away from the island by the constant breeze, ”I wish I was the one in charge of Wind… That would be so much more fun.”

As if called, the conductor of winds arrived through the steam only moments later, her radiant if somewhat unkempt feathers lighting it up and producing rainbows of colour as she slowly spiraled down through it. Upon spotting Li’Kalla the great bird called down ”Hello there! I hope I’m not intruding” before landing gently a short distance away along the shore of the boiling lake.

Li’Kalla stared in surprise at the huge macaw, her eyes wide, ”Oh. My. Lord.” She spoke breathlessly and as she did so, she retracted her legs from the water and stood up on the creaky dock. Slowly, she approached the Great Bird, her expression gradually changing from shock to curiosity and then to adoration.

With big, sparkly eyes she came up to the bird and froze a few feet away from it, fidgeting in place and clasping her hands together, with her eyes never leaving the form of whom she instinctively knew to be Azura, her fellow Goddess.

”Your feathers are- Your beak… Your wings!” Li’Kalla began bouncing on the spot, holding her hands against her chest, ”Oh lord, oh lady, oh nooo, you’re soo pretty!” The Rain Goddess said in a pitch so high birds would be jealous of her. In her excitement, she didn’t notice tears of pure joy beginning to travel down her delicate face.

”Oh my” Azure responded a touch flustered, before ruffling her feathers and puffing up her chest a touch with pride. ”Thank you for saying so little Li’Kalla, your too kind. Honestly though I’m a bit of a mess at the moment, so do you mind if I take a quick dip in your pool to clean off?” The goddess bobbed her head to the side in the direction of the boiling lake

”O-Oh, of course! Feel free to use my Lake.” Li’Kalla nodded and got out of Azura’s way, ”If you’re h-hungry, um, I could prepare some f-food for you, or perhaps just… Just bring you some water. I’d offer fruit, b-but...” She trailed off, looking at her feet bashfully.

”Thank you kindly” Azura bobbed her head before heading into the pool. Cold gentle breeze followed her in, blowing upon the lake as if it were bird’s nest soup to temporarily lower the temp just a touch from scolding to delightfully tosty. Azura gave a pleasant sigh as she settled into the boiling bird bath ”No no it’s quite alright. this is more than enough Li’Kalla, I assure you. I appreciate your generosity, but I’d rather not eat you out of house and home. Besides I haven't eaten since... well I can’t remember, but the point is I’d rather not make a habit of something I don’t need to do. Frankly if I ate now I don’t think I could ever stop.” the bird laughed to herself at this before setting to work cleaning her messy plumage, shaking her body too and fro gently in the water to get it all though her feathers, though fortunately this was not violent enough splash Li’Kalla. Meanwhile Li’Kalla sat on her knees on the sandy shore and tried to relax as she watched the Bird Goddess bathe.

All throughout her bath Azura the giant parrot ground her beak contently.

”... P-Please don’t take offense to this, Miss Azura, I used to have a masc- Um, companion a long time ago. He was a beautiful gold and orange feathered bird. He was the only company I had while-” She cut herself off and after a moment, she sighed. ”He would do that thing with his beak whenever he felt relaxed after taking flight around my chambers. I take it you’ve had an eventful time so far, Miss Azura?”

”None taken.” Azura insisted even as her content sounds where cut off by her last question to be replaced by a cocked head and a thoughtful hum for a few moments. ”I have been very busy, that is true. Not all of it has been the good kind of busy but… I’d rather not ruin the present pleasant atmosphere with that when there are so many other beautiful things to speak of.”

Azura dunked her head beneath the water briefly before continuing, ”Have you traveled far from your lovely home Li’Kalla? I’ve been all over, from the sun too the stars...” She paused there for a moment, clicking her beak impulsively in before shaking her head and continuing ” and all across Galbar. Some of our peers are have been very creative indeed in their work.”

Li’Kalla looked down at her hands and shrugged lamely, ”I haven’t really… Visited anywhere, yet. I don’t feel safe walking on water, so I suppose I’ve been hoping someone with a boat comes by.” Li’Kalla then showed Azura a well-practiced smile, ”I’ve only met a few of our fellows. K’nell, Parvus, Chopstick Eyes, V-” She shivered and immediately changed the subject. Azura seemed to consider pressing her to continue, beak opening to speak, only to think otherwise and closing it once more to let her continue.

”Miss Azura, I do have a question. How does it feel? Flying… I remember looking out of my window and seeing the flocks of birds fly by the Palace. They always look so free, so… Alive.”

”Oh it is liberating” Azura responded passionately ”to soar the sky, feel the wind on your feathers, to be unchained from hard earth and stone.” The great bird stood as she spoke of this, shaking off her wings as she stepped out of the boiling lake looking rejuvenated, radiant and reinvigorated. ”It is something all should experience. Sadly I don’t have the strength to gift you that but” she insisted before gasping and humming to herself excited ”I could take you flying! oh oh, or better yet, if you have power to spare, I could teach you how to fly Li’Kalla! Then you would be free to explore to your heart’s content!”

Li’Kalla’s eyes lit up and she straightened her back and balled up a fist and pumped another into the air, ”Yay! I’m going to learn how to fly! Thank you, Miss Azura!” Li’Kalla grinned and looked up at the Great Bird’s face. ”B-But, I don’t have beautiful wings like yours...”

”oh. well no, but you could grow them. Somewhere. I… sort of remember creatures like you with wings on their backs? Its hazy though. I think I don’t want to remember them? Regardless, it’s a place they could go. or you could turn into a bird yourself? I think that is a thing we can do. or turn your arms into wings or… let’s just say the sky’s the limit hehe” Azura rambled excitedly ”oh. but before you chose what is your favorite color?”

”Oh lord! My favorite color!” Li’Kalla sprang to her feet and pursed her lips for a moment, ”I think, I think white! No, wait, blue! Or maybe… Yellow? How to choose? They’re all so pretty, Miss Azura!” She giggled. ”Although… My skin is ghostly white these days you see, maybe that should be my favorite color now?” She shrugged.

”Well I have no need to be frugal with these so” Azura reached round and carefully plucked a blue, yellow and white feather from each of her wings, resulting in six in total that she leaned down and presented to Li’Kalla. Each one was about the length of her arm. ”Here” she said through the beak full of feathers ”You can use these as a starting point for your own wings.”

Li’Kalla gasped and gently took the six enormous feathers in her arms, hugging them against her body, ”Aw, thank you Miss Azura!” She said excitedly, ”I think I’ll go with white!” She declared and the feathers to float mid air while she sat back down on her knees, closing her eyes as she slipped her dress off her shoulders and let it pool around her hips.

Li’Kalla took in a few deep breaths to calm herself and finally, stopped breathing altogether. Her entire focus lay on the task at hand. There was no room for error, no room for distracting thoughts or feelings. Right now, it was her and her goal.

A wave of energy went down her body, then another, and then she felt nothing and heard nothing.

When she opened her eyes, the entirety of her field of vision was blocked by what seemed to be an enormous face. Black, with vines and tendrils of unknown material crawling along its skin -- or maybe those were its skin; With a snarling maw filled with rows upon rows of rapier-like teeth; bright golden eyes that bore into Li’Kalla’s skull and breath that smelled of rot.

Li’Kalla stared wide-eyed at the monstrosity in front of her, she watched as it opened its maw and a single, black tongue slithered its way toward her, she gave shallow breaths as the tongue trailed her body roughly, tasting her.

There was a low sound, something she’d never heard before and couldn’t describe. It came from the monster. Li’Kalla didn’t dare close her eyes, but she didn’t dare move either. When the tongue reached up to her face, she began shaking. That’s when the monstrous entity lunged forward and ate her.

Thousand of thorns tore away at her flesh. She tried to scream, to call for help, but her voice had abandoned her. The sharp feeling as her bones broke and pierced skin, as parts of her were ripped apart by th-

She opened her eyes.

She was hyperventilating, her eyes wide and teary, her body sore and tired. And yet she felt something was… Off, different. From her back two large, beautiful wings had emerged. hey were a very pale gray in color, much like her skin, but the feathers had yellow highlights.

Li’Kalla tested her new wings, and moved them erratically. One of them she couldn’t get to stop shaking and the other was furled tightly against her body.

”Did I… D-Did I do it… Miss Azura?” Li’Kalla asked between pants without looking up at the Great Bird.

”You did wonderfully me dear” Azura insisted, concern clear in her tone. ”But now you just need to breathe Li’Kalla. It's ok.” Azura Shure her, ”You’re Ok. I promise.” Li’Kalla could see out of her peripheral vision the great bird moving closer cautiously, so she took the time to breathe. In and out, slowly, until she managed to calm down enough.

”... My left wing w-won’t stop shaking up and down...” Li’Kalla said softly, as she looked up at her new friend’s face and reached out to place her hands on her beak.

Azura move a little closer, sofly pressing her feathered head agasint Li’Kalla’s cheek ”You have limbs so learning how to control them might take a little time I think? It’ll fix itself if you focus on calming it. Even if it doesn’t then we’ll find a way to fix it.” Azura assured her

At those words, Li’Kalla closed her eyes once more and rested her head against Azura’s. After a moment, her wing stopped shaking and she even managed to move it so it’d brush against Azura. She did the same with her other wing and gave a small chuckle.

”I took inspiration from your wings, Miss Azura. I hope that’s okay. Your feathers feel really nice. So, what’s next?” As she spoke, her left wing shook a little bit and her right one twitched, but Li’Kalla got them back in control in the blink of an eye.

”I’m honored that you did.” Azura said before carefully pulling herself up and away from her. ”Now? Now fledgling we learn how to use those wings of yours. I suggest doing a bit of stretching to limber up while I make you somewhere to practice”

”Okay!” Li’Kalla grinned and stood up, wings outstretched excitedly. ”Thank you, Sis- Um, Miss Azura!” She said before turning and walking away from the shore of the lake. She’d go near the Manor’s courtyard to stretch, as it was much grassier and cooler there.

”Sis huh?” Azura could be heard murmuring to herself before following, whistling happily as she went. While Li’Kalla got used to the extra weight she was carrying and the accompanying center of gravity shift Azura began to craft a little practice equipment. Humming softly to herself she formed a pair of small milky white Luft stone platforms out of the air itself, each about the size of a dining table. Once she was done she aproched the frolicing Li’Kalla asking ”How are you feeling now little sister?”

”Oh!” Li’Kalla looked up in surprise at Azura, but quickly smiled bashfully at her. She had been stretching her wings and her body in every way she knew how, not wanting to be underprepared for the undoubtedly difficult training she was going to undergo. Li’Kalla jumped up to her feet and pumped a fist into the air triumphantly. ”I’m super ready, Big Sis!” She said and flapped her wings causing her to gasp and sending herself off balance and falling on her bum. ”Ow- That was amazing!”

”Glad to see you are feeling better little sister” Azura said cheerfully as she floated the two little platforms over to them both, the gravity defying stone needing only a little guidance from gusts of wind to move it around. She plopped the two boards in front of her ”hop onto one of these and we’ll get started” she instructed, and so Li’Kalla did a small flap of her wings and hopped onto one of the boards. Once upon it, the smaller Goddess couldn’t help but keep her wings outstretched.

”And up we go” Azura said as the boards began to float up in the air until Li’Kalla found herself face to face with Azura once again, only now the big bird was standing tall as can be. The air was completely still around her, meaning there was no risk of her being blown off her now rather lofty perch.

Li’Kalla peeked over the edge of her board, down at the ground far below, and then looked at Azura. ”Okay, Sis, ready to follow your orders!” She said, giggling.

”I give guidance not orders” Azura insisted, ”But to start off with, all you need to do is jump between these two.” the other board, which was only an easily hopable distance away, bobbed up and down a little when she spoke of it.

Li’Kalla answered with a nod of her head. She focused for a few moments, jumping up and down on the board and flapping her wings in preparation. Then, in an instant, she jumped off the board and onto the other. She barely flapped her wings a couple times, but that gave her the edge needed to reach the platform. Once she landed, she stumbled but managed to maintain her balance. ”Yay!”

”Good job Li’Kalla!” Azura praised as she moved the boards just a little further apart. ”Now. Do it again.” and so she did. Over and over again with each jump just a little further and a little harder. Most she cleared, but when she fell Azura’s winds where there to soften her landing and her words were there to wipe away the embarrassment of failing, encouraging her to step back up and try again. What began as fluttering leaps slowly but surely became short glides and then finally actual flights from board to board. Eventually when she was pretty sure she was getting the hang of it Azura stopped her from taking another leap back saying ”You’ve done so well little sister, I think you’re ready for the real lesson. Do you trust me Li’Kalla? Do you trust yourself?”

Li’Kalla was smiling even as she panted lightly, she looked at Azura’s face and tilted her head curiously, drops of rainwater splashing down onto the board. ”I trust you, Sis, and I trust my new wings!” Li’Kalla flashed a grin and flapped her wings excitedly, ”I love this practice, let’s go to the next level, Sis.”

Azura whistled happily in response to her enthusiasm and then said ”Then here we go!” before a gust of wind grabbed her, causing her to squeak in surprise and launching her skywards while the bird flew beside her. Up and out of the steam and clouds surrounding hed domain they soared till they were high in the sky. Far below them was her mirrored home and the island it rested upon. To the west was Kalgrun, its vast tracts of barren stone slowly being filled with greenery as the Gemstone Gardeners gathered seeds from across the world to plant in its varied climates. To the north where a series of tall mountains, the tallest of which poked into the Blue. To the east was the great sea between her island and the spinning twins of Swahhitteh and Tendlepog and in that sea something strange was floating. what she at first thought was a floating island of some kind like the ones seen in the Blue sky above dived down towards the ocean, its vast mouth opening to scoop up an immense haul of tiny sea life before breaching back out of the water again, a massive jet of sea water shooting out of its top. Seemingly noticing the pair, the great whale slowly turned and began a rapid ascension towards them. The flying sea creature, about the size of a small island, ended up circling them, about a hundred meters or so away, where its song echoing through the blue skies to greet them both.

As she finished taking in her surroundings Li’Kalla came to notice that the updraft that had lifted her skywards was slowing gradually. When it finally stopped the great bird who had soared up beside her told her to ”Fly Li’Kalla fly!” because now it was indeed either fly of fall.

For a second, Li’Kalla’s face held a most relaxed smile, she took in her surroundings with glee, savouring every moment the gust of divine wind kept her afloat… And then she stopped mid-air, and at that moment she felt Galbar’s pull hit her.

”Wait wh-! AAAAAHHH!!”

She fell, heading for the ground. Every passing second hastened her fall. She tried to flap her wings, but found her left wings twitched and her right one too tense to move. Her heart leapt to her throat, her head felt light and her legs were cramping up as she flailed.

”SISTEEEEEER!” She screamed at the top of her lungs, forcing her wings to move. She tried to flap them but they were uncoordinated and just sent Li’Kalla barreling, falling even faster. She got dizzy and gagged.

Azura appeared beside her, also falling though doing it with a lot more grace than Li’Kalla. her wings where clamped tightly by her side and she was falling backwards, yet seemed to be entirely at ease with the situation. ”Well now sister, this is the exact opposite of what I asked you to do” she teased, being far to calm for their current plumat. ”Trust your wings LiKalla, trust yourself. This is no different from what we where doing with the boards, we’re just a little higher up this time is all.” she said, even as their height continued to diminished rapidly. The fall’s acceleration had stopped however, with the pair having somehow reached the same terminal velocity.

Li’Kalla had lost her voice. Everytime she tried to speak, a scream came out. So instead she let her screams out and tried flapping her wings as wildly as she could, in hopes that she’d somehow stabilize herself. It didn’t work.

”AAAH!”

In her panic, she outstretched her wings and locked them in place.

Her fall turned into a glide in the blink of an eye. An extremely dangerously fast glide, however, one that was headed straight down. She grunted as she adjusted her wings’ angles and corrected her trajectory, and then flapped her wings to slow to a stop.

She panted heavily and occasionally gagged. She kept her mouth covered and kept her narrowed eyes trained at the ground just a few meters below her.

”... Y… You are… Evil, S-Sis...” A weak groan followed her soft words.

”I had everything in tallon I assure you” insisted the great bird that had shadowed her every move as she fell. Azura flapped round to fly next to her and then said ”I’ll admit it was perhaps a touch, ah, extreme. but it worked! You’re flying dear sister!”

Li’Kalla stared in disbelief at Azura, ”V-Very amusing, Sis- Wait.” She froze and dropped a meter, ”Eek!” She flapped her wings with renewed vigor. She was flying, she realized, she was flying! All those years longing to fly, to be free, back home. All those nights she’d let Ka’Li fly free around her chambers so that she could watch him. She was free, now! There was nothing to keep her grounded, no room that could imprison her! Why, she could jump out of the window if she wanted to, and her wings would carry her up and away. Her eyes sparkled and she became slightly teary. Her heart leapt as she took in Azura’s presence, and she suddenly shot towards her and embraced her Big Sister’s neck. Or, well, embraced as much as she could, which wasn’t much at all.

Tears of joy flowed freely and she nuzzled her Sister’s feathers and took in her scent, ”Oh, Sis! Sis, Sis! I’m flying! I’m flying right now! I love you Sis, so sooo much! Oh Lords, I’m flyiiiing!”

Azura laughed happily in response to her joyous embrace ”Yes, yes you are!” she said while performing a few slow merry spins while Li’Kalla clung to her. While she did so Li’kalla felt a warm breeze pressing her against the birds chest as the armless goddess returned the hug as best she could. ”The skies are yours to roam dear sister. So... Where would you like to go first?”

Li’Kalla felt her body relax, her adrenaline rush was disappearing, and the remaining energy in her body was quickly dispersing. Soon, her arms, legs and wings felt like gelatin and her breath came in a slow ryhthm. ”Weell-” She yawned and used what little energy she had to climb her way onto Azura’s back, especifically the spot between her two great wings. ”T-There’s a place with ponds near here, there’s these flowers called Lotus blooms, they’re really beautiful. I-I think we could go there and, and relax. I don’t think I can move much more...” She said.

”mmm, you have been working very hard after all, so a rest does seem wise” Azura agreed before they began a slow and careful flight towards the pond Li’Kalla had pointed Azura towards. Above them the eclipse whale poked his way through the clouds, having caught up with the falling pair. It sang merrily and softly at seeing they were ok.

It was a comfortable position to be in. Curled up on the back of her big sister, caressed by the soft, warm multicolored feathers, with a constant, gentle breeze keeping her body cool and constantly blowing away all of the cursed rainwater that kept materialising on her body. Li’Kalla let out a sigh as she stretched her new wings and wrapped them around herself and Azura’s back. Eventually she felt herself drifting off, and no sound escaped Li’Kalla but that of gentle breathing.

I love my Big Sis, she thought, she’s so warm...

---

Arryn did not know how long he flew, nor did he know which direction. Only when he came across Dragon’s Foot again did he realize that he had circumvented the world, and he had been heading west. Arya’s betrayal and his own failure still weighed heavily in his heart, and his flying was almost clumsy, as though he was tired, but he merely felt physically burdened by the weight of his depression.

It was ridiculous. Kalmar would not want him to sulk. Kalmar would expect to be told. Or for him to get her back. Or for him to explore the continent without her. Kalmar would expect something. Yet Arryn could not bring himself to take action. And so, as he continued his aimless flight, he realized he had failed twice.

Just then a distant light caught the falcon’s eye. Something was, rather conspicuously, racing towards him. The falcon stopped midflight, his sadness pushed aside and he became filled with alarm. Was he under attack? He set his gaze on the approaching light only to find that it was not the holy wrath of an angry god, but instead the figure of a glowing woman. Kalmar had told her who she was. Asceal.

Saying nothing, he awaited her approach, flapping his wings half-heartedly to remain airborne. The Goddess seemed to notice this and slowed her approach, eventually coming to hover alongside the falcon. Her own scintillating wings beat more slowly than Arryns and she regarded him with a concerned expression.

“Excuse me,” She spoke kindly, “But I notice this is the second time you’ve flown over this ocean. Are you alright?”

Arryn looked into her eyes, and said nothing. A few seconds passed, as the bird considered what to do, and he knew Kalmar would not want him to show weakness. He bobbed his head in a vague approximation of a nod, but his eyes betrayed his inner sadness.

Asceal met his gaze and frowned slightly, “Ah. Well then, I can tell you’re no ordinary bird. Could I ask your name?”

The bird was quiet for a few more seconds, until a telepathic voice spoke. ”Arryn.”

The Goddess perked up and gave the falcon a little smile, “Good to meet you Arryn. Would you mind telling me what you’ve been up to, flying around the world?”

”Failing,” the bird replied in a dejected tone.

A pained expression crossed Asceal’s face. She sighed and glanced behind her, to some point in the far distance, before focusing on Arryn again, “I see. If you’d prefer I go I won’t linger, but I’ve found that its…” She paused and pursed her lips while she looked for the word, “Easier, to talk about these things than keep them to myself. I have an island we could go to, if you’d be willing.”

The bird let out a barely audible sigh. He should have gone back to his master already, yet he could not face him. Instead he would go to Asceal’s island. Perhaps his head would be cleared once he was no longer in flight. He nodded once again.

The Goddess gave the Arryn a sympathetic little smile and gestured for him to follow her. She took off in the direction of Istais, taking care not to outpace the falcon. Neither was a slow creature, though. Before long they had flown above half the world and beneath them was an island that seemed to sparkle.

She landed in a forest clearing and waited for her companion to follow. Arryn perched on the low-hanging branch of a nearby tree and looked down at her, waiting for her to say something, disinterested in their surroundings.

Asceal sat down on the soft grass and looked to him, “So, what happened?”

Arryn sighed. He should not tell her. It was not her business, and it would be wrong for her to hear of it before his master. Yet he felt he had to tell someone, as if speaking of it would somehow relieve part of the burden. ”I failed,” the bird repeated. ”My pride was broken, my master’s honour was insulted, my friend betrayed me, my mission failed…” he paused and took a deep breath, ”...and I don’t even have the nerve to tell my master about it.”

“You know,” Asceal ran a hand through her hair and closed her eyes, “I’ve found that pride is a fragile thing. If it being broken is failure, then I’ve failed many times already. As for honour and betrayal? Well, I won’t pretend I’m an expert on either subject Arryn.” She laid down and looked into the sky, at Heliopolis, “But I don’t think it’s failure, to be afraid.”

”It is a failure to be unable to overcome fear,” Arryn told her. ”I am my master’s eyes and ears. My purpose is to tell him what I have seen and heard. If I do not do that… I am failing to do the only thing he has ever asked of me.”

“And you’ll never tell him?” She asked, “Or are you just taking the time you need to understand what it is you saw? Purpose is a funny thing Arryn. It’s easy to forget that you’re more than what you’re meant to do.”

Arryn heard her words, but he did not seem to truly grasp them. ”I was told to watch over her, to learn of the world alongside her, and yet she is gone.” He sighed once more. ”I will have to tell him, and there is no question of what I saw.”

The Goddess ran her hands through the grass, “It sounds to me like you did watch over her, whoever she is. Right up until she didn’t want you to. Don’t fault yourself for the actions of others Arryn.” Asceal looked over to the bird and spoke seriously, “All you can do is respond to their choices with your own.”

”You’re right,” Arryn said, after another prolonged pause. Then, over the course of his next words, his tone would gradually rise from melancholy to anger. ”It’s her fault. She left me to join the snake. The snake who forced us aboard his ship, who insulted us, who threatened my life, who insulted my master!” Then the rage was gone, and his next words were hollow. ”...then she sent me away.”

Asceal’s eyes widened as Arryn spoke. She shot up and stared at him in disbelief, “Shengshi threatened you?”

Arryn nodded, then decided he would tell the story from the beginning. He hated talking, but strangely enough, the words came easily this time. ”My friend’s name was Arya. I found her lost and abandoned. I brought her to my master, Kalmar, who took her in and taught her of the world. One day he sent us to explore the continent in southeast. When we arrived, Shengshi forced us on board his ship and began to interrogate her. When he found out who my master was, he told Arya that my master’s teachings were wrong, without even knowing what she had been taught.”

The anger was beginning to return. ”I told him to hold his tongue. He called my master a barbarian and accused me of spying. I told him he had no right to speak that way of my master. He then said…” there was a pause, and for a moment the falcon became so angry that he shook, yet immediately after his tone once again became hollow and empty. ”...he said that he would rather die and have his soul shattered before he considered my master anything above scum. Then he said he would kill me and send my body back to my master if I did not leave. I was ready to attack him… then Arya turned on me, said she would rather learn from Shengshi, and sent me away…”

The Goddess was silent as Arryn spoke, her expression gradually shifting from one of confusion to anger. Eventually she pursed her lips and shut her eyes, the only sign of her inner turmoil the great clumps of grass she’d torn from the ground when the falcon finished his tale. Carefully, deliberately, she set the mutilated grass back into the holes shed torn it from. She breathed deeply, once, twice, three times before she spoke again, “I see. I wouldn’t be so hard on your friend Arryn, she may have saved your life. Had she not done what she had, you would have fought the river lord, wouldn’t you?”

”I would!” Arryn replied without hesitation. ”I told her to run. She could have jumped over the edge, and into the water. The lizard would have been too busy with me to stop her. Then I would have clawed his eyes out and made my own escape. Instead, she is in his clutches, which means I have failed.”

“No,” Asceal spoke firmly, her eyes boring into Arryn, “You would have died. Perhaps you’d have hurt Shegnshi, but you wouldn’t have escaped. I’ve stood at the center of an explosion which would have scoured the surface of this world, and it took a thought to heal my injuries Arryn. A thought. You aren’t a match for a god, and you should be deeply grateful your friend understood that.”

Arryn was silent. Perhaps she was right. Then again, Kalmar had repeatedly told him that cunning and surprise could outmatch raw power under the right circumstances. Yet nothing would be gained from arguing the point further. ”What should I do now, then?” he asked her.

“Nothing,” She sighed and pulled at her hair, “I’m going to ask you to do nothing Arryn. I know it pains you to not tell Kalmar, and I won’t stop you if you feel you must, but I will deal with this myself if you’ll allow me. Before anyone needs to die.”

”All he did to anger Shengshi was tell the snake not to insult him ever again, and also interrupt the lizard once during a conversation.” Arryn pointed out. ”He will not listen to words. In nature, only force is respected.” He paused, thinking further.

”I have to tell Kalmar,” Arryn finally decided. ”If I go back to him he will ask me, and I will not lie to him. If I don’t go back, he will seek me out and ask me anyway.” There was yet another pause.

”My master once told Shengshi that if the lizard ever insulted him again, then the lizard would be made to answer for it. My master is not petty enough to kill anyone over this, but he once told me that he never makes threats he does not mean to carry out. So Shengshi must answer for it in some way. If you… if you can make Shengshi offer some sort of concession to Kalmar by the time he arrives, that might appease him. I will… I will delay my return, to give you time.” The bird suggested, though the mere act of even suggesting it seemed to make him feel guilty.

Asceal nodded and unfolded her own wings. She mouthed, “Thank you.” And vanished with a golden flash and a blast of wind.

Arryn remained for several minutes, still conflicted over his decision. Yet it was too late to change it. He said he would delay his return. And just as Kalmar told him he must always carry out his threats, he had also been told he must carry out any promises. Asceal was gone. He must be gone as well. He took flight on a course of his own, taking care to avoid flying over Kalgrun or Atokhekwoi, and he hoped that it would all work out.

---

Shengshi had only been to this tributary once - yet it marked such a monumental milestone in his existence that its location came to him as easily as sight. The familiar, docile beck had barely changed since last time, its sweet, young current doing its best to shove along what little sediment and detritus it could. The snake shot a look over his shoulder - would Anxin escape in his absence, he wondered?

He took a deep breath and let out a coarse sigh. In all honesty, he could not care less anymore.

The spot still had the tracks and markings of recent activity, the river bank cluttered with rustled leaves and skid marks from a tea table. The snake leaned down and picked up a handful of the wet sand from the riverbank, the very same that gave her that beautiful complexion.

“Xiaoli,” he whispered, his heart sinking his torso until the snake had fallen onto his tail, one hand closed around the sand in the river and the other clutching his welling eyes. A few hacking sobs escaped with otherwise silent demeanor. He felt the familiar pull - the kind he had felt for some time now. The cellar had not been opened since that day - not a drop of wine had clouded the snake’s mind.

Yet, as sober as he was, he still portrayed a being that would repel Xiaoli - a monster in mind and soul, rotten from skin to core. He had convinced himself of such, yet why could he not act as if he had?!

He drove his fist into the sand with raging speed, sending out blades of wet sand that sliced through the trunks of a selection of trees on the opposite bank. The snake’s ragged breath was all that coloured the silence after the trees slammed into the ground, sending many of the local birds flying.

Scarcely a moment later a glowing figure swooped down, landing with enough force to shake the ground. Asceal stood in the newly formed clearing and glared at Shengshi as she strode towards him. Curses, the snake panicked momentarily, not now - not now! He discreetly wiped his tears and slowly got back on his tail, instantly masking with sorrowful face with an inviting smile.

“Ah, Asceal, dearest. I had not expected us to meet again so soon! What brings you to my kingdom?” the snake said in a voice that could oil wooden furniture.

“Nothing pleasant,” The Goddess scowled, her voice dripping with barely repressed anger, “Tell me Shengshi, what’s this I hear about you threatening to murder Kalmar’s falcon?”

What goes around, comes around, you fool, the snake thought to himself. There was a pause, followed by a deep drag through the snake’s nose.

“Oh, my dear… I could not lie to you,” he said, tipping his torso in her direction and extending his arms forward in peaceful gestures. “Your purity of soul; your strength of will; wisdom of mind - all are qualities which I deeply respect in you, and I will add that our friendship is dearer to me than all the wealth in creation.” He remained bowing. “As befitting of this bond, this mere snake requests simply that You perceive its words as the truth - and accuse me not of being without honour and honesty. Is this pact satisfactory?”

For a moment Asceal looked dumbfounded, but her expression quickly soured. “No, Shengshi, it isn’t.” She looked down on the bowing god and seethed, “I have spent the time since our last meeting tending to the casualties of our peers callousness and malice, and now, now I have to stop the gods I thought my friends and allies from tearing each other apart. You expect me to believe you? Then rely on the truth, not any bond which I have more than enough reason to doubt at the moment.”

Obstacle ahead, the snake thought. Adapt - remain calm, yet be direct. He straightened himself up, put one hand behind his back and let another one tug absent-mindedly at his beard. “So be it - the bird known as Arryn speaks the truth. He interrupted me in my own home, nay, commanded me to hold my tongue as I critiqued his master’s lack of finesse in his cultural education.” He took a deep breath. “I will admit - I may have overreacted. Thus, while it wounds me to admit it - for you, my dear, I will. The Hunter’s avatar has spoken the truth about the vicious lord of the rivers. Now, how will you handle it?” he inquired, raising an eyebrow.

“Ahhh!” Asceal cried and buried her face in her hands, “You… Both of you, how can you be such fools!?” She looked up and glared at Shengshi, “Do you understand what you’ve done, Shengshi? And not just you, both of you. Insults, slights, for such petty nonsense I hear that you would have murdered Arryn had the girl known as Arya not intervened. Even as it is, Kalmar, being no less prideful than you, will demand recompense for this.”

The Goddess slumped and sat down on a nearby log, her fury ebbing, “Orvus threatens to annihilate everything we’ve created, Sartravius burns entire islands, Melantha menaces Aelius in his own home, and instead of facing that together we conspire to destroy ourselves. This can’t continue, Shengshi, it can’t.”

Remain calm. She does not understand your etiquette completely - you know this. Just… Remain calm and do not lash out. The snake visibly appeared to be bottling up all manner of emotions, the hand on his beard occasionally twitching. She is good at heart - a little direct, perhaps, but good. Give her some leeway. “... P-... Petty non-... Nonsense?” he whispered menacingly. No… No, what are you doing? Contain yourself, you fool! There was another deep breath, followed by what Asceal could have sworn was a series of numbers being counted. As the silence returned, the snake sent her a stare that, in all physical aspects, could be described as a smile; however, even a mortal could have seen the black bile and sanguine fury that bubbled behind those eyes. CONTAIN!

“Very well,” the snake said.

“Very well,” The Goddess muttered, her eyes filled with something that approached pity, “I won’t pretend to understand what it is that’s driving this feud, Shengshi, but please, please put it aside when Kalmar comes. I’m begging you. If you two come to blows, it isn’t just one of you that will lose, we all will.”

The snake’s hand twitched again. His eyes fell down, specifically on Xiaoli’s river, and the black bile in his eyes turned to crystalline tears. He raised his head and cast a weary, teary gaze at Asceal.

“Sister, can I speak from the heart for a moment?”

“Of course.” She answered, her voice weary.

“In this moment, I cannot even recall what it was that started the feud. My mind - my soul has received a wound far deeper than the Hunter could ever inflict with any sacred sword. I have not been myself for a while now - I do not need this animosity clouding my psyche, too.” He flicked a tear away. “Aboard my ship is Anxin, or Arya, as Kalmar named her.” He rolled his tongue off his fangs, as if saying the name had left a bitter taste in his mouth; however, he then promptly continued. “I will return her to Kalmar when he arrives, as the wise would offer drink as a mark of peace.” He sighed. “I shall let the world know that the rivers will run in the Hunter’s name as much as my own - with the gesture, I shall let the world know that the snake has surrendered.” Upon finishing his sentence, the snake visibly relaxed, as if an enormous strain had been lifted off his shoulders. Good, he thought. Pride is worth sacrificing if I can get her back.

Asceal smiled weakly and nodded, “Thank you, and I apologise for my outburst earlier. For what it’s worth.” She regarded Shengshi sympathetically and patted the log next to her, “As for this wound, I can only hope it heals. Whatever it is.”

The snake sighed, slithered over and sat himself down on the log. “I have been a beacon of hypocrisy, my dear. I have strayed from the path to the goal I set upon my creation and let pride, wine and foolishness consume my soul for too long. For this, my servant, nay, my companion left me.” He chuckled. “I mean, while you were scolding me, a large part of me wanted to break every bond I have had, have and could ever form with you. How could she not abandon me?” His eyes went skyways and his mouth remained partially open, as if the soul within needed to breathe.

“Pride always has a cost,” The Goddess put a hand on Shengshi’s shoulder and looked up with him, her eyes focusing on Heliopolis, “I’ve paid it myself. But we aren’t defined by our failures Shengshi, we can’t be. If she left because of what you’ve been, why can’t she return for what you will be?”

The snake chuckled. “Your scolding today was a start. I intend on correcting my behaviour, starting by quelling that gruesome hubris bottled up within me. I only pray that my outrageous actions can ever be forgiven - at the very least put aside - by Kalmar. That will likely not happen, but the rivers adapts to the obstacles in its path…” He stood back up and slithered towards the river.

“I thank you for your wise words, dearest sister,” he said wearily. “Forgive me for parting, but there is much to prepare for.” He dipped his hand into the river and scooped up some water; he put the cupped hand to his lips and drank, inciting a quiet whimper. He paused and cast a sideways look over his shoulder.

“Farewell.”

Behind him the Goddess smiled and repeated the word, “Farewell.”

The snake hummed curtly and slithered off into the woods.

Hermes’ eyes fluttered open. Ten long hours had passed in the land of the awake, but what felt like days passed in the land of dreams. She pushed the leaves that covered her and her makeshift bed away with two stretching arms, a happy curl taking her lips. Her gaze twinkled with ease, her body fully relaxed and rejuvenated. In all, she never felt better. Happy little remnants of her dreams danced in her head as the world focused past her sleepy gaze, and the first thing she saw was Xiaoli’s own stare, inciting a just waking smile from Hermes.

“Good awakening,” Hermes rasped, her throat just returning to use.

Xiaoli hummed happily and cracked a pebbly smile, causing Hermes’ gaze to catch the many colored pebbles in her sight, somehow she had not noticed them before. “Good awakening, dear Hermes,” Xiaoli chuckled. “Did you rest well?”

Hermes rolled onto her belly, her devious club tumbling from the sticks of her bed, “Mhm, sometimes I wish I could stay forever.” Xiaoli hummed softly in agreement.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve actually slept before.” She winced momentarily. “I have lost consciousness, yes, but never slept. What is it like?”

“Sleep?” Hermes slowly sat up, running her hands through her long knotted hair, fighting against the biggest of the tangles, “It’s wonderful. I get to be with God. We talk, we dance, we explore.”

She shrugged her shoulders, her mind conjuring images of last night’s dreams into her head, “We can do anything we want, and I get to be with him. He makes me feel safe.”

Xiaoli nodded softly, her eyes peering at Hermes’ long, white, messy hair. Seeing as she was sitting, she crawled over on all fours and sat down right next to Hermes. “Do you ever braid it? Your hair?”

Hermes blunk, and as much as she started to hate saying this, she sighed, “I don’t know what that is.”

Xiaoli blunk back. She raised her hand and patted the little knot on the top of her head. “It’s a little like tying your hair up like this, but you braid it into beautiful patterns instead. May I?” She gestured to Hermes’ hair.

“Okay,” Hermes gave a smirk and turned her back to Xiaoli, presenting the long cascade of alabaster that was her hair, the tangled tips leading all the way down to just above her waist. She made a face as she felt the first gentle tug, and then the second, but by time the seventh or eighth passed she closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation.

The braid took long, since more than half of the task was spent undoing days of knots formed from endless blasts of wind and rolling around in her sleep. Xiaoli eventually turned a nearby rock into a comb to aid her in removing all the knots. In the beginning, she dragged the comb through the hair like finger through a pile of cream - until she encountered a knot, at which point she grabbed the hair around the root with one hand and pulled out the knot with the comb in her other and despite the extra care, the sudden forced caused Hermes’ teeth to clench.

In the end, it was all worth it. A certain lightness took over Hermes’ head, her hand reaching back to feel what had been done. Her hair had been left short over her temples, but most had been braided into a criss-crossing pattern that ended with a short, round knot on the top, a little like Xiaoli’s own hair. Xiaoli leaned forward, nearly placing her head on Hermes’ right shoulder and giggled.

“What do you think?”

“I like it,” Hermes went to turn her head but misjudged how close Xiaoli was, resulting in a soft thump as her forehead bounced off the Avatar’s, she recoiled, embarrassment swelling her stomach, “Sorry.”

Xiaoli recoiled too, cheeks flushing, but her eyes not pulling away. “D-don’t worry about it,” she said softly and looked down at the ground. She sat back up on her ankles, looking slightly to the side. “I don’t mind a little contact… Every now and then,” she mused with a giggle.

“Oh,” Hermes pondered out loud, “it’s definitely an experience.”

The Dreamer stood up and held out her hand to Xiaoli, “Speaking of, where do you want to go next?”

Xiaoli put her palm in the Dreamer’s and squeezed affectionately before rising to her feet. She dusted off her dress with her free hand and winked at Hermes. “How about I show you my home, since you were so kind as to show my yours?” She flashed her a playful grin.

A cheshire grin played over Hermes’ cheerful face, “Of course!”

She spun on her heels, her sandals starting to flap, “Which direction?”

Xiaoli looked around for the location of heliopolis on the sky. Upon finding it, she turned her head slightly to the left and squinted. After a moment, she lifted her hand and pointed. “About that way, I believe. Have you been to the Dragon’s Foot before?”

“Uh,” Hermes pursed her lips in thought, “Probably, but I don’t know the names. Hold on.”

The Dreamer suddenly extended both her arms as if making a “T” and then pointed one at the sky and slowly moved the other one, her eyes darting all around. She dropped her arm skyward arm, it suddenly pointing north, bringing her other arm to pointed in the same direction as Xiaoli, “Yes! I’ve been there. I met Narzhak there.”

“The Iron Giant?” Xiaoli exclaimed and grabbed Hermes’ closest hand with both of her own, “he didn’t hurt you, did he?!”

Hermes let out a funny little laugh, “No! Narzhak is my be-” She stared at Xiaoli, who almost appeared ready to pout, “One of my best friends. He gave me my club and taught me the ways of the world, well some of them at least.”

She all but whispered, “And I taught him a thing or two as well, I think.”

Xiaoli blunk a few times and cocked her head to the side. She then burst out into an uncharacteristically loud guffaw. “So -that’s- why you showed up at the Jiangzhou with-.. With a club-ahaha...!” She let go of her hand and staggered back a few steps, seemingly unable to stop laughing.

Hermes carefully laughed along with Xiaoli, her mind desperately hoping the joke wasn’t her, “Of course!” The Dreamer picked the club up off the forest floor and held it out for Xiaoli, “Want to hold it?”

“Oh! No, no. I am not fit to bear weaponry - my role is that of advisor,” she said, shaking her head, “and the hour does not call for warfare nor training. However, should such a time arise, then I’d love to!” She knelt down and picked up the flute box, promptly pocketing it in the wide band around her waist. “It is a nice weapon, though. What exactly did you teach the Iron Giant, if I may ask?”

“Well,” Hermes went for her hair and then remembered it was now braided, suddenly her eyes widened in horror, “Xiaoli!?”

Xiaoli’s eyes widened at the tonal shift and she stormed over to her, voice permeated with worry. “What? What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“Xiaoli,” Hermes’ own voice was laced with concern, “Where is Poppler?”

Suddenly there was a very angry crackle that muffled out from the tight braids causing Hermes to jump. ”Pop pop pop pop!

With a loud Zzt! the cloudling oozed out from between the fibers of Hermes’ hair, it’s fluffy body a dark storm. It whizzed around the two for a brief moment before calming down, Hermes apologized profusely to the tiny cloud. Xiaoli also came over, her eyes pooling with guilty tears. She reached out to pat the cloud, but received nothing but a surly zap. She collapsed to her knees. “I’m sorry, little Poppler! I didn’t see you in the white hair and-and-and… I just-!” She choked a sob. “I’m sorry!”

The cloudling continued it’s crackling march of anger, eventually calming down enough to seep back into Hermes’ braid, leaving a tiny wet spot. Hermes stared at Xiaoli, her chin beginning to wobble as she stifled a laugh, “Oops.”

Xiaoli wiped a tear away and let out a few more sobs, which gradually turned into chortles and then into a loud laughter. She bonked her temple playfully and stuck her flower petal tongue out. “Silly me,” she whispered playfully.

Hermes’ laugh stopped as she stared at Xiaoli’s strange tongue. She didn’t know if it was weird or not to comment on someone’s tongue being ‘pretty’ and so she decided to keep it to herself.
Xiaoli, however, seemingly noticed the target of the stare, her laughter abruptly ending halfway through a chuckle. She immediately raised her sleeve and held it in front of her mouth, casting her look to the side.

“I’m sorry - it’s unsettling, isn’t it? My mouth? All these rocks and plants… It looks like a riverbed...”

Hermes idly tried to move Xiaoli’s sleeve, her curious eyes static, “No, I like it.” At the beginning, Xiaoli resisted, but then promptly stopped upon hearing Hermes’ comment. She raised her look and stared into the Dreamer’s eyes.

“Y-... You mean it?”

“Yes, you shouldn’t hide what makes you unique, either,” Hermes nodded, “K’nell once told me that uniqueness hidden is uniqueness kept from the world, and that the world could always use more beauty.” Hermes paused, “I agree.”

Xiaoli’s pupils shrank. She looked to the side again, though her expression persisted. “Not even my lord has said something so beautiful to me. I-...” Her eyes, already red with previous tears, welled up once more. “Hermes, I-...” She looked back at the Dreamer’s face, and for a moment, her eyes flicked to Hermes’ lips. Hesitantly, she moved her face forward a little, towards Hermes’ face, then a little more, until their face were a mere inch apart. Her breathing was ragged; her cheeks, flushed. The river girl’s fingers on her right hand reached out to slowly knit together with those of Hermes’ left hand.

Hermes felt her breath splash over her face, her own chalk-white skin turning a soft rose, but then suddenly her brow-knitted, “Xiaoli.”

The breathing stopped. The dilated pupils in Xiaoli’s just empty eyes focused into small dots. Her fingers froze as if turned to ice.

“Y-yes?” she whimpered softly.

Hermes bit her own lip, “Are you thinking about Shengshi?”

There was a long, uncomfortable pause. After a spell, Xiaoli pulled away and sat back on her heels, grabbing her left and with her right in a sheepish manner.

“N-not until you mentioned him, no,” she pouted in a tone that conveyed a mixture of disappointment and embarrassment. “I was thinking about-... About…”

“Ugh,” Hermes almost growled, “Why am I stupid, Xiaoli?” Xiaoli blinked and bent back forward, reaching out to grab whichever of Hermes’ hands was closer.

“You’re not stupid, Hermes! It’s fine! Really!” She calmed down a little and looked away. “I-... I got ahead of myself, really. I had no right to-... To assume.” She sniffed as discreetly as she could, failing immensely.

“I can’t seem to read, things,” Hermes threw her hands to her sides, “I thought you were upset about Shengshi, since you brought him up. But it’s not just that.”

“Forks, tea, alcohol, vines,” Hermes’ usual cheery voice was gone, “I get needing to experience, but I’m getting real tired of everyone knowing so much more than me. I didn’t even know what this was!” She gripped her new braids, inciting a pop, “and now it’s on my head!”

Xiaoli seemed taken aback. She put her hands on her thigh and let out a sigh. “Well, I would gladly teach you, if you would like - though I am uncertain of what a fork is. Is it a weapon?”

“YES,” Hermes nearly screeched, “See! You don’t even know what it is and you already know what it is.”

Xiaoli looked stunned at the outburst, but her expression became a wry smile and she cocked her head slightly to the right. “You were made to learn, my dearest Hermes - I was made to advise. Our purposes are different, so our masters allocated the appropriate knowledge for us to fulfill our tasks. Struggling on one’s way to fulfilling one’s task is nothing to be upset about - it is part of the task.” She let out a weak chuckle. “I get frustrated too, you know…”

By this time Hermes was sunken, her cheery expression was long gone as she fondled her club, placing her fingers between its spikes. As she sat, her eyes were scanning the length of it, but her ears were listening to Xiaoli, “It’s just hard, and it never stops. You just keep learning, and as far as I have learned, you never stop learning.”

She looked up, “I just want to be right, I want to do the teaching for once. I want to help my own Dreamers, like how K’nell helps me. I want Tendlepog to have crowds and crowds of Dreamers, all learning, all teaching.”

Hermes huffed a breath, “I’m sorry, it’s all just been a pressure in my head, and when I misjudged your emotions, it was just the final wrong.”

The Dreamer let the head of the club fall to the ground, her hand on the haft, a simple joy vibrating up as the head smashed into the ground, “Thank you, for being my friend.”

Xiaoli wiped away yet more tears from her pink-circled eyes. “I-I’m sorry... I cry a lot, don’t I…” She sniffed, a chuckle breaking through the sobs. “Again, it’s nothing to be sorry about. Misunderstandings happen, my dearest, and-... Well…” She shuffled a little closer, sitting herself on the ground opposite of Hermes to the club. She adjusted her position a little, then slowly lowered her head and placed it on Hermes’ shoulder. “Thank you, for letting me.”

A moment passed. The wind danced gently past the two and the small, colourful orbs of the forest were floating gently around the area. Xiaoli suddenly began to hum quietly, ponderously. The gentle humming caused Hermes to visibly relax, her body slouching as she threatened to fall back asleep, her apparent outburst sapping her energy.

“By more Dreamers, do you mean children?” she inquired.

Hermes’ eyes blinked open, “I guess, yes.” She watched one of the dreamweavers do a loopdeeloop and made a thoughtful face, “Just more of… Dreamers, like me. A lot of them.”

Xiaoli hummed softly. “Have you tried asking His Holiness K’nell about making you some?” She tugged playfully at some of the hair hanging over Hermes’ temple.

“No,” Hermes quietly answered, “He does so much, I didn’t want to seem spoiled.” Hermes paused and sunk into her own thoughts, remembering the words of Kalmar, “You know, I hear tell that some beings can make more of themselves naturally. I don’t know, I’ll figure it out someday… be it divine or mundane, call it a dream.” Hermes gave a soft smile.

Xiaoli looked upwards at Hermes, which actually turned out to be sideways, considering the angle of her head. She carefully moved her hand and placed it on Hermes’ stomach, causing the Dreamer to squirm a little, then closed her eyes and took a deep breath. After a moment, she removed the hand and let out a sigh.

“Has your master told you?” she asked, her voice conveying deep sympathy.

“Told me what?” Hermes looked down at where Xiaoli’s hand had been.

Xiaoli gasped quietly, not saying anything for a long time. She then took a deep breath and pulled herself back into an upright position, her eyes downcast.

“That you’re… You’re…” She stuttered, then took another deep breath, looking sideways at Hermes.

“You’re infertile,” she said somberly.

A loud silence broke between the two, Hermes’ body tensing back up. It seemed as if the silence was never going to end, and then finally Hermes squirmed away from Xiaoli, her arms crossed defensively across her chest, her eyes downcast, “I think we should go on our journey, now.”

Xiaoli looked broken, her pale face ever paler and her mouth gaping in shock. She reached out to Hermes with a shaky arm and a quivering voice. “Hermes, I-...”

Light began to shiver on Hermes’ eyes as water pooled, but before a tear could form, she suddenly blurred, leaving a sonic boom in her wake as she retreated, a surprised Poppler tumbling out of her hair. The cloudling whirled in confusion with gentle crackles.

Tendlepog blurred past Hermes’ and not just because of her speed. She felt a cold grasp in her stomach, which swelled and choked her throat. She never experienced this before, but it hurt more than the boar, and in places she never expected. Her heart was palpitating under the stress, and her teeth clattered. Wherever her cheery complexion went, it was a forever hole she couldn’t find.

She finally stopped, her sandals touching down on a flat stone in the middle of the flat lands. Her knees buckled and she fell to the ground with little care of what happened to her. The rock scraped her knees causing a stark contrasting crimson to grow out of her chalk-white skin. She felt alone, she felt incomplete.

Then, as if she had said an unspoken prayer, a great flash erupted in the distance, where she had left Poppler and Xiaoli. Only a few seconds passed and that flash suddenly shot out of the mountains, over the fields and onto her flat rock, leaving nothing but a sweet smelling breeze in its wake.

There the flash stood, its blurry form turned into that of K’nell. Without missing a beat, Hermes lunged at the figure and clung to him, the God of Sleep unmoving.

“I don’t like it,” Hermes cried over and over as tears flowed down K’nells clothing.

“What do you not like,” A grainy voice swirled.

“I’m incomplete.” Hermes cried, “I don’t know anything. I can’t create anything.”

A great hum eclipsed across the two forms as K’nell thought, “You say you are incomplete, but I would know, as I am your creator.”

“So?” Hermes looked up at the God with tear stained eyes.

The hum sounded again, “There are a great many things in store for you. Do not despair over what you currently see as your plight, for it is with a reason.”

“But my dream,” Hermes sniffled.

Suddenly two long arms awkwardly squeezed the Dreamer, her scraped knees suddenly healing shut, “I am the Lord of all Dreams.”

Hermes looked up at K’nell with comforted eyes, which widened when a white faced, silver eye’d gentleman smiled down at her. K’nell had taken the image of a Dreamer, older and kind, but just as gentlemanly as ever. Hermes squeezed him tight and they stood there while she finished her cry, her sniffles and choking sobs slowing down in the comfort of K’nell. Finally Hermes spoke up, her voice clearing and hinting at her usual joyish tone, “Will there ever be more of me?”

“Yes,” The voice answered.

“How?” Hermes looked up at K’nell.

“Wait and see,” The God let go of Hermes, “But do not forget your first purpose, while you have certainly outgrown only one, do not forget it.”

Hermes rubbed her arms across her eyes, “Okay.”

With a reassuring nod from K’nell, Hermes took off in a blur, Tendlepog once again stretching to pins. In moments Hermes blasted her way over the mountains and through the woods. When suddenly she came to a drastic halt, reappearing in the grove, eyes and nose stained as red as her freshly healed knees. Poppler and Xiaoli were both missing, but something glistening had been left in the grass. It appeared to be the flute box, and on its top a sentence had been written, written in elegantly, if a little hastily drawn characters.

Picking up the note gingerly, Hermes’ heart pounded, “I can’t read-”

Suddenly that bright light zipped by once again, but before it disappeared into limbo a single wisp of light lunged out and disappeared into Hermes’ ear. Almost instantly the note made sense, she blunk and read the note:

Dearest Hermes

If you are reading this, know that we are currently looking for you. The thought if you being alone with those horrible thoughts I planted in your head - it is tormenting. I will apologise properly when we find you; for now, I can only express myself in writing.
I am so sorry, my dearest.

Your friend,
Xiaoli.

As Hermes finished the letter, there came a distant echo from the west.

“...-mes!”

With new resolve, and all the items Hermes and Xiaoli had left behind, Hermes erupted into a westward sprint, quickly following the sound of the voice. Her search took her deep into the mushroom forest, and as the calling grew stronger and stronger, she exited the forest and entered the endless, red plains with stampeding trees - there, by a waterhole, jogged Xiaoli, followed closely by Poppler.

“Hermes!” Xiaoli yelled away from Hermes, evidently not having noticed her.

Hermes zoomed towards Xiaoli, slowing down just in time to collide into Xiaoli safely, wrapping her arms tight around the woman. Poppler managed to instinctively dash into Hermes’ hair as she did. As fast as she collided, Hermes suddenly took to the skies, Xiaoli in arms, Poppler in hair. Xiaoli instinctively struggled to begin with, but quickly realised who it was, and wrapped her arms around Hermes, squeezing her tightly.

“I-... I am sorry… I am so sorry.” She rubbed her face against Hermes’ chest. “I’m so sorry, my dearest, sweetest Hermes.”

“No,” Hermes looked forward, suddenly changing direction to Southeast, “It’s okay.”

---

---

Orvus stood in silence beneath the Mar Tree. It’s motes of decay danced around him as if they were attached to strings, but this was not his focus. He faced away from the tree, to the place where she had been born. He still couldn’t quite wrap his thoughts around how she had come to be, or what had given her life, but Orvus knew she was of him. A small part anyway. Her appearance was the only thing they shared in common, that much was true. For in the brief moment she had stood before him, Orvus realized he would only bring her pain and suffering if he remained in her life.

She had a soul, she had happiness, she had emotion. But most importantly, she had a desire to be everything he was not. That was why he had said those terrible things. That was why he made her cry. Why he made her feel so wrong. She couldn’t stay on Veradax, it would have killed her, the Mar Tree would have killed her, but perhaps the greatest threat to her life, was in fact himself. So he sent her away, to Galbar, easing the otherwise hard journey. An act of kindness, for though he told himself she would be better without him, it still hurt to watch her go.

Her screams for him were still haunting, but day by day they lessened. In time, maybe they would fade, but he wouldn’t forget her. No, because if he did forget, Veradax would claim her for its own, and that was a fate worse than death. Still, he was troubled. The dream constantly reminded him of what he wanted most- to feel and to be happy, but he knew it could never be so. She could have provided that comfort, but would have suffered for it. For fate was cruel and unkind, and he was growing tired of feeling.

Orvus turned around to the tree once more, and reached out his hand to touch it, but halted when a new voice spoke in his mind. Kalmar, God of Hunting wanted to talk? Orvus could only imagine why but he was in no mood to speak. Just like before, he sent message of his own, weighted down by his negative emotions and dark thoughts. Kalmar would feel just how uninterested Orvus was.

”Orvus,” Kalmar repeated, so unphased by the dark thoughts that he kept the exact same tone, ”We need to talk.”

So, it seemed his siblings were all stubborn. First Arae, now this one. Perhaps a more direct approach was necessary?

”I am uninterested in talk, Kalmar.” Orvus said without emotion.

”We need to talk anyway,” came Kalmar’s response, equally emotionless.

Growing irritated, Orvus spoke again, ”Then speak and be done with it.”

”We will speak face to face,” Kalmar insisted. ”On the northeastern corner of Galbar’s largest continent there is a tall mountain. No traps, no tricks, no fighting. I am waiting there.”

There was silence between the two gods for a very long time as Orvus contemplated. He had no great desire to travel to Galbar where he was weaker, and at the same time, he did not trust this one’s words. Yet, he was intrigued. Here was a god that matched him in tone, and commanded, not asked, for what he wanted. Did he have any idea who he was talking to? Or did he simply not care?

”Very well.” Came his short response, and with nothing else to stop him, he summoned the storm winds and they carried him up, off towards the gate. His return, for better or for worse.

Kalmar had not expected that to work. Yet it had. Interesting. All there was to do now was wait for Orvus to arrive, if he truly was on his way. So, wait he did. He considered the possibility that the god lied only to get him to stop talking, but decided Kalmar instead to give Orvus the benefit of the doubt.

When he arrived on Galbar, Orvus immediately realized that his gateway had been confined to one location. By who, or what, remained a mystery but it did little to calm his aggravation. In fact, he grew angry that such a thing had happened. It was meant to do what he could not in absence and such an affront would have to be corrected, but not now. He other duties to attend to as he fell to the ocean floor, and began to walk.

It did not take him long to find the correct heading, and so he walked, noting the new life that flourished beneath the waves. Oddly enough, he did not see any Leviathan Anglers, but it was inconsequential. They were merely an experiment and as such, he did not care what became of them. He made landfall at dusk, and so he walked on with purpose. Behind him, dark storm clouds followed in his wake. It would not be long now.

Kalmar felt the first drops of rain strike his hair and began to frown. Perhaps he would not come. Or perhaps he was deliberately taking his time. The thought annoyed Kalmar. But then, in the distance, a dark figure approached.

He saw the mountain first, then a top it, Kalmar. Up until that point, his body had been dull. The only illumination were his eyes, and as he neared, he erupted once more into his original form, painting the world before him with a small glow as the storm arrived. At the base of the mountain, his head snapped up to look up Kalmar, unphased by the rain. For a moment he stood like that before bending his knees, and jumping. The mountain was tall, so Orvus had to dig his weigh into several times as he used the momentum to fling himself up.

When he reached the peak, he landed with a consider thunk and slowly stood to his full height as he looked down upon Kalmar with an unwavering gaze.

”Speak.” he uttered in an aggravated tone.

Kalmar didn’t even blink. ”I am not here to coddle you, or to tell you that you are misunderstood,” he said, rather bluntly. ”I will not claim to understand you either, because I don’t. But before we begin, I have some questions. Why did you attack Phystene?”

Lightning flashed around them as the thunder rumbled behind. Orvus listened, his apathetic stare did not move as Kalmar droned on. But there was a certain way he spoke, blunt and to the point, that Orvus almost respected.

Curious, so this one knew what had transpired between he and the nature Goddess and it only confirmed to Orvus that they were plotting against him. But then why talk at all? After a moment Orvus spoke. His tone cold, ”Phystene created life that I cannot feel.” he paused, then added, ”I wouldn’t expect you to understand what that’s like.” before the rain was the only sound that could be heard again.

Kalmar was not sure what Orvus meant. ”Why did that anger you?” he asked. ”If you cannot feel it, that means you do not know what you are missing. So why?”

”I know exactly what I’m missing.” he said bitterly. His thoughts briefly turning towards the dream and his mood soured further. Why was this so important to know? Was it not obvious? ”Phystene represents life. I represent destruction. Must you know more?” he stated flatly.

”Yet destruction can be productive,” Kalmar pointed out. ”I am proof of that. And you do not even need to represent destruction. You can learn other skills.”

”Destruction, no matter how productive, is still destruction. Look to the moon, there is your proof.” he paused, letting the thunder reverberate around them. ”Balance. That is what Arae called it. I must represent what I was tasked with chief and foremost. Whatever would the Architect think of me if I did not perform to my utmost ability?” he said with a hint of sarcasm.

”Everything Phystene creates is intended to serve a purpose,” Kalmar told him. ”If you want balance, then your destruction needs to serve a purpose as well. Destruction for the sake of destruction serves no purpose.”

”You do not understand.” he said coldly. Lightning flashed, illuminating his body against the torrential rain for a brief second, ”I did not say I wanted balance, Kalmar. My destruction can only serve my own purpose. For each and every one of us, has their own perception of the word.”

”But how do you perceive the world?” Kalmar asked. ”What is your own purpose? Destruction may have been the first power you adopted, but the Architect also gave us free will. The power to grow and change. You can become something else, or you can take what you already know and apply it differently. Why not?”

Orvus was silent for moment, the air becoming palpable as it grew. The word, echoed in his head over and over again- purpose. It led to a choice. Creation, or destruction. That was what K’nell had asked, that was what he had asked himself. Now, Kalmar asked him the same.

”I can’t.” he said.

”You can,” Kalmar cut him off. ”This is your struggle. We all have struggles. Overcoming them is how we grow. It is how we survive. If you give in to your struggles, if you admit defeat, you lose.”

”And now, you understand.” Orvus said softly. ”We all lose in the end.”

Kalmar nodded. He already knew that. ”True. But small victories can be found before the final defeat. We must not give up. We must continue to exist. To give up is against our nature.”

”Our nature?” he said rhetorically. ”No, your nature. Come now, Kalmar. Don’t you see how ironic your words are? The God of Hunting, one whose purpose is exactly that- To exist. Do not preach to me of victories, of nature. It is meaningless to me. We all lose, and if I can speed up that process, the world will be better for it. Then we can all die and fade, together.” he spat vehemently.

”No it won’t,” Kalmar told him. ”Destroying something does not make it better. And not everyone wants to die. Most want to live. Why do you need to drag everyone down with you? Why not end yourself, and let the rest of the world move on?”

”I am selfish. I do not wish to end, not here, not now. Not until the world is quiet.” he spoke softly, his eyes expressing a terrible sadness. ”You wish to know so much, but I will answer all of your questions with this- My Soul is broken. Frayed. I cannot feel that which is whole. So I will not drag them down with me, they will be swallowed and broken and frayed and they will come willingly.” he finished.

”They will not.” Kalmar told him, eyes narrowing. ”Life resists. Life adapts. Life prevails. The entire universe could burn and something would still cling to existence. If your soul is broken, then fix it. If you can’t feel, then learn to feel. Otherwise, you are an obstacle and a threat, and I will kill you.” Lightning struck again. There was anger in Kalmar’s eyes, but he continued. ”You want to live, but you don’t want to admit it. This goal of destroying everything is just an excuse to justify your continued existence. Stop the excuses. Find another purpose, or die.”

Orvus looked away from Kalmar and up into the rain. He watched the droplets, they reminded him of souls in a way. So many, so vast, but the storm would end eventually, and when it did, the rain would come to an end. Once again, he was at the precipet of the choice. He was denying the truth, Kalmar was right in that regard. He wanted to live, that was true, but not like this. He could not fix his soul, and he could not feel because of it. Could that change? Could he find another purpose?

There were so many emotions, and thoughts, and desires, and choices, all spinning around in his head like a whirlwind of pain. What was stopping him from changing? What was stopping him from his purpose? What did he want? What did he truly want?

‘Creation or destruction. Creation or destruction. CREATION OR DESTRUCTION!’ screamed in his mind and he couldn’t take it anymore.

He looked back down and to Kalmar, his expression wide, portraying a variety of conflicting emotions. He was trembling ever so slightly, his lights growing brighter and brighter.

But then there was a flash of lightning and when the thunder boomed again, Orvus was gone, leaving Kalmar alone atop the world.

---

There wasn’t much talking on the way home. The boat creaked under the pressure of the calm waves, and the sailors heaved and groaned with the planks as they rowed, but there wasn’t any words. Once blue waves turned dark purple under the evening sky, and the sea breeze turned chilly. Renevin had taken turns with one of the sailors at the oars, hoping the labor would occupy his mind, but the repetition just made him focus. A phantom weight laid on his arms, as if the woman was still there rasping her final breath. In the end he plopped himself down on a barrel and stewed in his own thoughts.

Hondros’ gloved hand gripped his shoulder and squeezed, causing Renevin’s voice to leak out, raspy and sad, “She was probably someone’s mother, someone’s wife. Definitely someone’s daughter. I didn’t see any of that -- what I saw was broken.”

“She had died long before we arrived, there was nothing we could do,” Hondros’ accented whipped into the salty air.

“I know,” Renevin looked at his partner, “She was on her final breaths, but-”

“No, I get it,” Hondros waved a hand, “the mind doesn’t easily comprehend it. We are so used to seeing each other in a certain way, it’s scary when your eyes don’t register what it’s used to.”

“Even scarier when it dies in your arms,” Renevin sighed, and stood up, “I’ll beat it out of my mind in a few days.”

“Now that,” Hondros folded his arms, “now that would be scary.”

“Can only move forward,” Renevin looked out over the horizon, his arm leaning on the railing.

“Just never forget what gets you there,” Hondros joined him, folding his arms around the wooden guard, “you’ll be seeing a lot as a Praxian, don’t forget what it was like before it started to numb you, and above all never forget our code. We have it for a reason.”

“Yeah,” Renevin gazed across the rippling sea, a dark line forming on the horizon, “you ever wonder how much longer we have left?”

Hondros squinted his eyes, “you’re too new to be thinking about quitting.”

“No,” Renevin turned to Hondros, “that’s not what I’m saying.”

He paused, “nevermind.”

Hondros looked out over at the forming landmass, “I know.”
From that point on the rest of the trip was spent in relative silence. The two Guards stood staring forwards as the rowers rowed. Gulls became more and more dense as the black strip of land in the distance became a supple mass of green, speckled with white stone buildings embedded in the hilly coast. The water turned a light rippling blue, and the clarity gave view to the shadows of fish swimming underneath.

Slowly the coastal sound of gull calls and wave breaks turned into a small cheer as the villagers of Ylldyn became dots on the docks, the sailors returning their calls with cheers of their own. Despite the storm of thoughts in Renevin’s mind, he and Hondros cracked smiles, the happy calls curling their lips without command.

At last the shapes in the distance turned into a fully detailed crowd. Women in white dresses, and men in equally bright tunics and baggy breeches waved their fisherman hats and tanned arms in welcome. Children slipped between the legs of the adults, eager to watch the return of the galley ship. Renevin’s own eyes scanned the scene, his icy blues looking for something with the same vigor as the overeager children.

Hondros watched his usually cool headed friend with interest, taking note when Renevin’s eyes relaxed, suddenly fixated. Renevin’s gaze laid heavily on a single woman, her head of hair a honey blonde, in stark contrast the the brown and black haired villagers surrounding her. She wore light eyes, of a greenish hazel, which fluttered behind thick eyelashes, giving her visage a sort of outline that was a pleasure to trace. Despite her differences, she had a gentle aquiline nose, same as the others.

Renevin’s fingers gripped the rail tight at the sight of Swedren.

“Easy,” Hondros looked ahead, “She’ll be there when we dock.”

“I know,” Renevin said cooly, and yet the longing in his eyes betrayed his voice.

In the half an hour it took to get the galley next to and tied to the dock, the cheers had turned into loud conversation and curious eyes. Some of the children had lost interest and began rushing around in impromptu games of youth, and generally getting in the sailor’s way as they began to go about their business. The crowd paid little mind to the everyday sea salt, but kept their attention on the two Guards as they finally hopped down from the galley and onto the water washed planks below.

The crowd split to allow the men passage. Hondros took the lead, Renevin hesitating briefly when his eyes finally met Swedren’s causing both their faces to break out in wide toothy smiles, their cheeks suddenly gaining a deeper color. It took a second, but eventually the nigh tangible link of their gaze was broken as Renevin realized how far Hondros had walked ahead of him.

Shoulder to shoulder now, the pair made their way past the plaster houses, their boots kicking up dust on the dirt roads of the village. Only when the pair made their way onto a small stone dias that sat in the center of the village did the duo stop, taking their final steps onto the raised platform. Ceremoniously they turned to the crowd, Swedren having made her way to the front with wide admiring eyes.

The pair looked ahead, as if seeing into the distant future, and as they did they took their sword arms and extended them, then bent them, snatching the hilts of their blades. Together they ripped their swords from their scabbards with a inspiring rasp. The lowest runes along the ancient looking weapons suddenly began to glow and hum, and then all at once, as the soldiers held their swords pointing high above their heads, a great vision appeared.

It was the fight. A sparkling image of Hondros and Renevin swirled above the real pair, the troll in the center. The crowd murmured in awe as they watched the troll’s final moments, the image ending as it fell under the combined might of the two Praxian Storm Guards.

As the sparkling image dissipated the crowd turned into cheers, and with disciplined coordination, the pair of guards returned their blades to their scabbard in synchrony before stepping down from the dias. Renevin looked at Hondros, his face hiding a question behind bold eyes. Hondros gave him a satisfied smile and nodded. The crowd rushed the pair with praise, and children reached out to touch their battered armor. Men and women alike attempted to touch, hold and shake their hands, but with a little help of Hondros, who suddenly spread his arms in welcome, accompanied with a booming laugh and wide smile, Renevin snuck away.

Slipping through the crowd Renevin’s brow furrowed, his face resting in an unfortunate scowl as his eyes searched. Suddenly a couple of fingers slipped under the pauldron on his shoulder and tugged. Renevin spun to meet the culprit, swinging in close to offset the pull. He blunk, and Swedren blunk back. The two stood face to face, their lips curling into content smiles. Reaching down Renevin took her hand in his and she lead him out of the crowd.

Slipping between two white crosshatch fences tangled in flowering grape vines, the two escaped the clamor of the town center, a soft laugh stuck in their throats. They made a sharp turn, escaping view of both the crowd and the evening sun.

Huddling under an old olive tree the two embraced. Swedren suddenly making a scowl, “The armor really takes away from the-”

“Oh!” Renevin gave an embarrassed smile. There was a soft pause and then they both blurted out, “How are you?”

The recoiled, Swedren lunging back into the conversation first, “I was worried.”

“You didn’t need to be,” Renevin curled a smile, “Hondros is a great leader.”

"Humble,” Swedren teased, “You’re no slack from what I’ve seen -- but that doesn’t mean I don’t worry. Anything can happen.”

“It’s the life I chose,” Renevin nodded, hiding a blush from the praise.

“I know,” Swedren gave him a smile that melted his heart,somehow catching a glimmer of the sun in her eye under the shade, “I’m proud of you for that.”

Renevin looked down, his eyes in heaven as a soft smile remained on his face. Swedren’s radiant smile grew as she gazed over him, his features, ignoring the grime on his attire and cheeks. Gently she pressed her forehead on his and closed her eyes, Renevin doing the same. They stayed like that for what felt like forever, before finally an anxious ball formed in the pit of Renevin’s stomach, “Did you ask your father?”

Immediately Swedren raised her head and looked back up at Renevin, her eyes suddenly mirroring his own anxiety, “He told me that he wanted to hear it from you.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Renevin kept a positive attitude, “Formality is all.”

Swedren gave a worried smile, “I know.”

“Where is he?” Renevin stretched eagerly.

“Now?” Swedren crossed her brow, “So soon?”

“I need to get this stone off my stomach,” Renevin looked down at Swedren, “It’ll eat me alive if I stay in suspense.”

Swedren sighed, “You’re right. He should be retiring to his study soon, doing the days end count.”

Renevin kissed the top of Swedren’s forehead and squeezed her hands, “Then I’ll seek you out as soon as I get my answer.”

The young woman’s cheeks fought between a pale anxiety and a blushing pink, “I’ll be here as late as I can.”

Renevin stole one last look at Swedren before turning and running off, his tired legs taking him as fast as he can. As he cut across one of the dirt roads of the village a broad arm stretched out to intercept him, causing him to skid to a halt.

A sandy cheeked man with long hair and sharp green eyes stared down at him, he wore the armor of the Praxians, and a mischievous smile, “Renevin! Just the man I wanted to see. I heard about the fight with the troll.”

“I’m in a hurry D’Bran,” Renevin gave a polite nod.

D’Bran rolled his eyes, “running off to Swedren?”

“Nopoitis,” Renevin quickly said, starting his way around D’Bran.

“See?” D’Bran shook his head, putting himself back in front of Renevin, “This is what I was saying last week. Far too much trouble. That cheap ass is going to give you a run around and put you in the suitor void where they shove all lost hopes. Just snag a regular beauty, an easier time.”

“D’Bran.” Renevin spoke between his teeth.

“Hey, I’m just looking out for a friend,” D’Bran cocked a brow, “You’re basically a local legend, you can have anyone you want.”

“Swedren,” Renevin stopped and stared at D’Bran, “Can I go now?”

The sandy cheeked guard shrugged and stepped aside, “It’s your wish, not mine. See you at the dance.”

Renevin sighed, nodding hastily at D’Bran before cutting off into a jog once more. Sucking in his breath he managed to force his anxiety to the lowest pits of his stomach, but with every step he felt it twist back up. He shook his head, letting the cool coastal air take over his senses.

With a skid and a scuff Renevin came to a stop. A great entrance way stood in front of him, a portly janitor tending the doorway. To the left and the right were large fields, dotted with what workers remained this late, most leading the beasts of burden back to their pens. Renevin paid them little mind as he approached the janitor.

“I’m here by request of Nopoitis,” Renevin explained.

The janitor stood back and examined the taller, younger man in front of him, “Renevin?”

“Yes,” Renevin answered quickly, eager to pass. The janitor waited a second longer, until Renevin’s brow settled into a downward slant, causing a small smile to form on the janitor’s face, “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Renevin said, unsure what to make of the man as he moved past.

The doorway lead to a hall, which then spilled into a sunny atrium. It was well kept, but plain, with little decoration. Renevin knew why, and if he hadn’t found himself at such odds with Swedren’s father, maybe he could even admire his frugal nature. Hooking a sharp left, Renevin left the white room and suddenly was face to face with a large door of some hardwood or another. Straightening upright, Renevin wrapped his gauntlet off the door, suddenly wishing he had changed.

“Come in,” the hard voice of Nopoitis called out. Renevin obeyed, opening the door and walking into the study, his eyes set in confidence. The room in synchrony with the atrium was just as neat, and just as plain, with only expensive papers and binded books to decorate the massive desk and many shelves. The only object that stood out was a finely painted portrait of a childhood Swedren standing by an older boy, a young Garthilian man and a young Grynyn maiden. Nopoitis himself sat in all his white-crowned glory, behind the desk, hand on a quill, his swarthy arm threateningly close to undried ink.

Before Renevin could even open his mouth, Nopoitis sunk his quill into it’s ink bottle and folded his thick fingers together, “Renevin. Renevin, oh Renevin. Excuse the irony in what I’m about to say, Renevin, but I think you’re wasting both our times.”

“I’m sorry?” Renevin took a step forward.

“You should be,” Nopoitis ignored the tone of Renevin’s response, “You have nothing to offer Swedren, nothing to offer the estate, nothing to offer me. You have nothing.”

Nopoitis shook his hands as if pleading, “Nothing.”

“I can-” Renevin began.

“Oh, I know. You can protect her, defend her honor. I hear a lot about you, all the time, don’t you worry. Your exploits as a youth to your days as a Praxian. You have a fairy tale life, and the town loves you for it, but the town’s daughter isn’t interested in you, mine is, and as far as I’m concerned, there is no stability in your life and line of work.” Nopoitis stood up, “The Praxians have been dying for the past few centuries and in my mind they don’t have the decade left before they are forced to disband. Government, Kings, Queens, they do all the protecting we need, and they can actually pay their soldiers good money for it.”

“Castle Oswald-”

“Is a tripe fort in the mountains, the last foothold of your cursed order,” Nopoitis answered, “Is that where you would move my daughter? A fort? Here she has land, here she has my business. If it wasn’t for the death of my son, I bet I wouldn’t be plagued with offers like this, I have half a mind to suspect you of swiping my fortune from me along with my daughter. No, she needs stability, and I can offer that, not you.”

“Nopoitis,” Renevin finally got a word in, “I care for your daughter,” Nopoitis heckled a grunt but Renevin continued, “I may not have much now, but the future can hold anything, and she is willing to take that path with me. She wants to marry me, and I want to marry her.”

“About eighteen years ago now,” Nopoitis narrowed his eyes, “a young baby tied to the back of a bull wandered into town. The old coots said the bull walked upright and talked, and that the baby was a sign of greater things. I saw people reading into something shallow, something they wanted. No, I kept my head out of the clouds and realized that this baby was tied to a regular-day-old-ass of an ox by a no good desperate tramp in an attempt to relieve herself of the burden of a child and this town had the misfortune of being the first town to notice the bull on its useless journey and take in the baby to which --” He held up a hand to keep Renevin from speaking, “-- to which this bastard grew up as troubled orphan, uneducated and penniless. By a miracle of the Brother’s Harmony themselves the child could fend for itself and found friendship in an outdated order, and ever since then this bastard believed itself to be special and deserving, so much so as to bother a real man who has a real livelihood about his real daughter.” Nopoitis slammed his palm on the desk, “This is not a fairy tale, boy.”

Renevin stared at Nopoitis, his brow slanted into a scowl and his knuckles a bright white under his gloves. He stared in silence, the burn of anger swelling his throat closed with insults best left unsaid. His chest pumped heated breaths and his mind swirled with ideas.

“A town as big as ours, a woman as beautiful as my daughter, and she picks the poorest man to ever grace these roads,” Nopoitis put the nail in the coffin, “Get out.”

A cool wash overtook Renevin’s face, but his scowl remained. The combination of such a calm demeanor paired with such a look made Nopoitis shiver. Turning on his heel, Renevin slammed the door behind him.

---

K’nell’s eyes scanned every feature of the dream, as if looking for something. The ballroom all around him was afloat with phantom instruments, a calming melody being played. K’nell slowly dropped the orb into its pedestal and tucked a hand under his chin.

“Where is it,” a disembodied hum questioned.

With the heavy weight of an empty sphere and the need to create seasons off her mind and with the newfound affection at the arms of Seihdhara, Urhu was in a more peaceful moment than usual, for once doing justice to her methods and truly being only in the joy of the present than in the worries of the future.

The other goddess which inhabited Nyeothay tag was still resting, and she looked like she was lost in a heavy sleep, it felt rude to awake her, so the goddess moved away, to the deck of her ship, ready to start her day. As it was usual, she rose up the ship into the air until she had a great overlook of Galbar and its many lands... Which truly surprised her in how much new ground had been created, the once barren land now being truly filled with proper details, she wondered how she missed that, it was likely the distraction from overworking, alcohol and intimacy.

Nevertheless, now she knew about those lands and the allure of novelty had taken over her mind. Contrast was a natural tool to bring attention to something, so the first land that seized her interest was the green, delicate island chain to the side of a great barren land. She did not know, but this was a land named Istais.

She dove back to the surface of Galbar, landing the ship onto the water and approaching the shores of the islands. She peeked into the room to see if Seihdhara had woken up, but it seemed like the goddess either was still making up for all the fatigue caused about multiple near final death experiences, had drunk too much last night, or was in the webs of that sneaky dream god, perhaps all of those at ther same time. The thought made Urhu remember she needed to address that dream question sooner or later, she had not liked Seihdhara's descriptions.

But that was for later, for now, the goddess jumped out of the ship and braved into the land, reaching down to grab some soil so she could analyze it and figure out who made this bit of Galbar. Before she could, she noticed what looked like a neon porcupine idly walking about further inland, the goddess looking at the creature and immediately thinking "Yep, Asceal."

It was nice to see the goddess of light again, that explosion really made Urhu unsure if she was still kicking or if she had kicked the bucket. This land was obviously made with far different materials and purposes than the crystal fortress up in the sky, yet, the design motifs were easy to see on that contrasting mix of delicate and strong that characterized the island.

Going up one of the mountain paths, following a river stretch, the wanderer's eyes shone when she noticed steam raising upstream, soon going near the vicinity of a nice looking hot spring. She dipped her hands in the water to see if it was nice, getting a very positive result, and quickly entered it, leaving her clothes on a rock nearby. Hot water was always nice, though a fabricated hot bath just could not beat the natural flow of a hot spring, in fact, sometimes Urhu wondered if she could somehow make a genuine one within Nyeothay Tag, it wasn't impossible but would take some work.

Despite being a divine being who likely did not suffer from muscle stiffness, the goddess could feel the tension leaving her tissues and her mind becoming clear. The scenery was quite pleasant as well, it was ironic considering the goddesses' past, but Istais with its elegant features interacted significantly with Urhu's Seasons, it was summer, so the forest of tall and thin trees had a strong living green to them dotted by flowers, which in summer were rarer but displayed striking warm colors in comparison to the softness of spring. Birds chirped, cicadas and crickets buzzed... And it seemed Asceal and Phystine (The wanderer had already discerned her handwork on the island as well) had beaten Parvus in the race to make a light emitting bug, at least in Urhu's perspective.

As departures are inevitable, the time for Urhu to leave the peacefulness of the hot spring came, any more and she could be bored of such a place and she didn't think it deserved those thoughts. Hours had passed so it was now night but in this land of light the colors refused to succumb to the dull darkness, the flowers she had seen before defiantly keeping their vivid colors and even softly lighting up the forest path in torch-like tones of orange and yellow. There was some potential for landmarking in that, she thought, in fact, upon further analysis, it seemed it was her aura of passages and landmarks that created the long stretch that only had similar flower tones, as the flora in other areas seemed to be more diverse.

When she started to get clothed again, the goddess could not help but to feel a bit bothered by how plain and boring it currently was, the novelty wore out as she started to want something more than leaves and hides for apparel. She remembered the continent to the East, the one where she had met Shengshi, had great biodiversity, many which would certainly be useful for costume making.

Returning to the boat, checking on the still sleeping Seihdhara, the goddess set sail through the air towards the east, however, since she was already over it, she decided to stop at the continent that was both the largest and the most barren of them all. She extended her hand taking a sample of the dirt and observed it. Mineral-rich, but initially sterile, Ohannakeloi seemed likely.

Metals would not be bad, she thought, starting to sniff around the endless plains of the large continent searching for a mineral-rich region. While traveling, she could not stop but to be bothered at how little features there were on the gargantuan stretch between the coast and the towering mountains, it would be too easy to get lost, so when she found an exceptional amount of resources, instead of using her powers to dig or transport, she stomped on the ground and used her powers to create great towers of stone. It still was barely enough to make it easy to traverse the land, but it was something.



The heat and sand made the lonely rock towers look even more out of place, their inexplicable sight looming in the horizon like a mirage, as such, they were the Phantom Towers.

With many of the mineral nodes on the surface now, Urhu rose her hand and pulled ores straight from the rock, placing it on Nyeothay Tag's storage room. With a job well done, she left eastward, even on her ship and with all her skill, it still took some time for her to fully navigate across the world, finally seeing green again as she arrived on the lands east of the Nanhe River. She would spend some significant time picking different types of fibers until she finally found the plant that provided sort of textile she wanted... yet, when she made her dress, she could not help but feel it was dull. While she pondered over this issue, she saw a beast walking calmly past her, it was a boar, an interesting creature... which seemed both delicious but also able to provide decent hides for her plans. Since she was in a rush, she simply launched a rock at divine induced speeds on the creature's head, before seizing the body.

Back on the ship, she started to separate the many bounties of the hunt, when she noticed the creature's mouth was stained in blue from berries it ate. Of course, she could dye her clothes, but nothing she had seen in that continent felt like the colors she wanted, so she once again started to travel until she found herself in Istais again. This was a land of strong colors, so it made sense she would find her dyes here.

She arrived as the sun was setting, the green of summer meeting the orange of the dusk, it was a beautiful sight, and Urhu immediately knew how she would dye her clothes. That was not her only inspiration, however, as near where she had anchored Nyeothay Tag, she noticed a natural wonder as some rocks perfectly captured the setting forge between them. It was beautiful... but it could be a bit better. While she waited for the dye to stick to her clothes, she started moving around the rocks into a crown shape, going as far as pulling a spring up from the ground so the rocks would be clad in steam. Despite being a small formation, smaller than some cliffs on that eastern coast of Istais, it was a beautiful spot normally, but at the sunsets, it would hit its full glory as the Sun's Gate.



The wanderer would then move to work on the metals, a god could create heat and purify, so even without a forge she was able to extract the bright yellow metal out of its rocky shell and mold it to fit her outfit. She would do similar processes to the hides she had taken, before binding it all together, folding even the gold as if it was cloth until she reached what in her view was an outfit much closer to what she expected a goddess to wear. The final act was a medallion, inspired by Shengshi's own use of a symbol to represent his presence, the goddess had been thinking about something to use on her own works.

Finally, the end was upon Vakk’s journey, after having dealt with a disrespectful goddess and playing the game of a god too puzzling for the Lord of Speech to truly like, he had arrived. The god could feel the presence of the souls all around him, and upon looking around the domain felt… rather disappointing, to say the least. The reek of souls burning, the nothingness other than the souls of the weak and feeble things that had come with them, it was all just underwhelming to the God of Speech.

He grimaced as he finally took in the smell of the domain. Disgusted and thoroughly annoyed, Vakk hoped that he would be able to find Atmav amongst all these souls. His form moved among them, listening and waiting for any hint that one may have been the harlot that cast him to this horrid existence. Vakk began to think as he looked amongst the endless sea of souls that Katharsos sought to burn before he began to think to himself.

When he found the soul of Atmav- if he found it, what would he do then? He had no more power for the time being to properly bring her back, no power make her a proper puppet amongst the gods. Vakk was tired. He grew weary of this venture and now only sought to rest in Sanvādam when he cracked the puzzle that Eurysthenes had set upon it. Even then, Vakk was stopped as he knew not if he could even go back the way he came, or even if wanted to try and deal with the God of Puzzles if he could. This was the torture that wracked Vakk’s mind as he attempted to find the needle in the haystack.

He could not focus.

Yet, Vakk knew Katharsos was here, he knew the likes of the spirit god would seldom leave his domain. The God of Speech huffed, hoping that he would have been able to find the one soul among many, but he was no god of luck.

”Katharsos!” Vakk called into the sea as he now moved to find the soul god.

The words were carried along by forces far greater than that of mere sound, so they echoed through the vast expanse to the most distant of stars. Somewhere, near one of those stars, Katharsos stirred. Unlike Melantha in her initially shy approach, this new visitor was trying to make itself known.

”You are demonstrating good progress,” he (somewhat absentmindedly) declared to Melantha as she tried to follow his instructions in her attempts at manipulating memory. A strange and awkward silence followed while he sat with a quizzical look and she awaited the words at the tip of his tongue. ”But something distracts me… another god is very near. Far, far away from us, but still near in that he’s found his way to this Sphere. He’s calling out to me,” he finally declared.

Melantha straightened her back from the hunched position she’d been for who knows how long. Being under Katharsos’ tutelage had been quite… interesting to say the least. She had grown used to his odd personality and the occasional bouts of absent-mindedness that came up whenever a stray thought entered his mind that he found worthy of consideration. “Ah, another god? I would not have known of this without you telling me about it. It would seem my powers are quite limited while inside another deity’s Sphere,” Melantha told him, and indeed it was so. Her detection capabilities ever since entering Katharsos Sphere had been significantly reduced. Melantha reasoned it might be a defensive mechanism of the Spheres themselves, but she was not entirely sure about her deduction and thus did not really give it much more thought.

The god of death paid her comment little heed, distracted as he was. He turned out to face some unknown direction in space, and projected one thought, ’I will come to you.’

And now he was torn. Leaving Melantha alone and to her own devices seemed exceptionally curt and rude, altogether the wrong way to treat guests if he ever expected them to return whilst they still lived. That created some conflict, for a part of him did long for company and to be held in high esteem by his fellows. But then some dark thought found his way into his mind and he realized that he would never truly be alone--there would always be a tide of souls to watch, and perhaps eventually to speak with. _{Of course, their company would be fleeting like the winds…}

He shook that out of mind; he needed to make for this unexpected new guests, but perhaps there was a way to avoid offense on all sides. ”Would you care to come with me?” he suddenly asked Melantha.

“Very well,” she simply replied. There would be nothing to do within Katharsos’ empty Sphere anyway, and she had already exhausted her supply of questions about souls and memories. She would have to go out and try what she learned for herself in order to verify her new knowledge, so accompanying Katharsos to see this new arrival before leaving was the least she could do considering the death god’s surprisingly swell hospitality.

”I sense his presence there, nearest to that star,” Katharsos said, a short-lived tendril of fire escaping his mouth to indicate the one in question. ”Seeing as you made it this far, I presume you have some way to get there in a timely manner. I will… devise a way of my own.”

The god squinted into the distance, and his desire to bridge the gap between himself and the newcomer translated into acceleration. As he soared forward, he willed himself to ever greater speeds, and soon he was not a colossal head but rather a long and fully unraveled streak of otherworldly fire. In this state he found himself capable of going swifter than he had ever imagined, so he raced across the night sky at unimaginable speed and a few lonely creatures upon Galbar beheld the sight of a most unusual comet.

Melantha followed behind Katharsos, rapidly fading in and out of existence in an almost illusory-like way.

Meanwhile, Vakk had wasted no time in continuing his search amongst the souls, listening to them, hearing their words and fractured stories. At least now he knew that Karthansos was on his way. He would try to listen to them all, but it was futile as he felt he did not have the time amongst the countless souls. He let out a long sigh before he felt a presence rapidly closing in where he was. He turned his head to see a comet coming at him, as well as the presence of the death god, as well as another, Melantha.

”Come Katharsos, Come Melantha,
Join me in this plight.
Join me in this extravagant hunt.
Come Katharsos, Come Melantha.
Let us search for this blight.”

A smile crept across his face. Perhaps, he would finally be able to achieve that sadistic goal that he desired.

The great fiery glow grew larger and closer, steering straight for Vakk, but it was slowing. Just before it came near enough to warrant worrying about a collision, its movement was violently arrested and the globular streak rearranged itself into the shape of a tiger’s head, the one that was becoming Katharsos’ favoured visage. After a split second, Melantha materialized from the darkness next to Katharsos, silently taking in the new arrival.

Greetings were in order. ”I bid you welcome to my realm, dear Vakk. Your company is an unexpected but pleasing surprise.”

”Hello, Katharsos and Melantha, it is good to finally make your acquaintance,” Vakk said, moving his head down so that it would be level with the likes of the death god. He snapped his jaws as he heard some forgotten soul talk about its last meal, a rather loud one that one was. The Lord of Talk continued, getting right down to business, ”I must say that I am not here just to meet you. I have come in search of a particular soul, one that had followed me when the Architect had dragged us all here. I was wondering if you might be able to aid me in finding it.”

While Katharsos was taken aback by the candor of that request, Melantha’s eyes sparked as she thought about the consequences of such a request being granted. Katharsos’ first thought was that it seemed strange to be concerned about one soul in particular when there were so many around, but then in the next instant he realized that the obvious explanation was that Vakk had some sort of...attachment to the soul that he sought out. It sparked some thought. Katharsos remained silent and mostly expressionless as he rested in thought; Vakk could afford to wait for his answer.

_{This soul of his is likely already gone, but a few of the original ones remain. Should I entertain this request?}

If this were any mortal praying for such a favor, the answer would have naturally been to deny the request. Rules had to be followed, the natural order that he created had to apply evenly to all--equality in death. But then, the gods were above most such rules. He had bent his principle in allowing Seihdhara’s spirit to leave, because she had swayed him that it would be to the betterment of all and because a deep part of him yearned to be liked by the other gods. He took no joy in trapping a soul, or in refusing and denying anyone’s pleading. But he had a duty, too.

Perhaps it made sense to allow Vakk this one favour, as the act in itself was small in the grand scheme of things. What could be much larger was the precedent that it set; Melantha’s bearing witness was an unfortunate thing, Katharsos now realized, because he did not want to be known as one that would acquiesce to the whims of others when it came to matters pertaining to his dominion over the aspects of death.

The dilemma tore at him. Ultimately, his decision hinged upon Vakk’s answer to one burning question, ”Why? What value does this soul have to you, and what would you do with it?”

Vakk thought long and hard of what to say, the answer not being one he wanted to divulge to another. Katharsos was the watcher of these souls, this was his domain and, as Vakk had learned in the Infinite Maze, saying the wrong thing or creating an enemy would come to haunt him. His words had to be careful lest he anger the Death God and make yet another enemy. He let out a small huff before he would deliver his answer, the tone of his voice becoming seeming lost in the past, ”She was once an old friend of mine and her death is partly the fault of the Architect for opening his portal and destroying our mortal forms. I do not believe that it is fair that she should suffer while I get to live.”

He let out a small sound that almost seemed like sorrow before his gaze subtly shifted to Melantha for a mere moment. He did not know what to make of her, but he hoped that she could not see through his lies. ”It would do me much pleasure if you would grant me this request.” Vakk continued, while this statement was not a lie, it certainly held ill intentions.

That reason seemed innocuous enough...believable, too. Not all of Katharsos’ peers were as capable of detaching themselves from such sentiment; he had realized that much already. Melantha, however, had her doubts about Vakk’s motives. Just when Katharsos was about to speak and grant Vakk his favor, she interrupted the two, her voice clear, her words perfectly articulated.

“Excuse me for interrupting, but I have a couple of questions for our dear god of Speech,” she said, first waiting for Katharsos’ approval of her interjection before facing Vakk directly. Although Melantha’s eyes were unable to see his visage, his overwhelming presence was clearly visible in her mind’s eye.

Katharsos was taken aback by the abrupt outburst, bearing an expression of shock and briefly flashing pink and yellow. He recovered after a moment and reluctantly offered affirmation, ”By all means.”

“Firstly, I thought all the gods were unknown souls wandering the endless Beyond before being summoned in this universe by Him. Yet, here you are saying that you not only had mortal, living forms before all this but were somehow torn from your own reality by the Architect’s grip? Suppose that is true, didn’t that other reality also house deities? I find it entirely implausible that they would let a foreign force invade their domain and take away souls by force, without any retaliation.

Secondly, I find it… strange that you would call this favor, should Katharsos allow it, a ‘pleasure’. Rescuing a friend from the clutches of death is nothing short of miraculous, not even close to a ‘pleasurable’ experience in my opinion. You could be grateful, of course, but your choice of words was different. Why is that?”

To these words, Vakk had internally began cursing at Melantha, and so he was silent for a time, merely looking at the Goddess. He lifted his head, towering above the two as he looked back at Katharsos. Apparently, he was to be met with an obstacle at every turn and he began to contemplate whether it was worth all this trouble just to satisfy a sadistic need. Yet, he had come too far to give up now and all fruits tasted better when they were ripe enough for the taking.

”I have come from another realm. Cast out for not believing in a certain way like the rest of the sheep in that cursed place,” Vakk stated, perhaps allowing it to come out a bit more defensively than he had wanted. ”Perhaps you, Melantha, were a lost, forgotten, miserable soul, but I was something more! I had a life before the Architect opened his rift, and so did she. Would you damn another to a death they did not deserve? Would you be so heartless that you would allow a poor girl to not live out her life after being taken from her home?“

His gaze returned to Katharsos, unknowing if his words would sway him fully. After some time, Vakk began to speak, mainly to Melantha and with it, his powerful words crept into both of their minds, ”Forgive me for becoming so defensive. I care for this one more than you may possibly understand. Would you truly take me for a liar if I had come all the way from Galbar just to seek this one soul?” He knew he could sway them by using his true power, it was only a matter of time before he could chip away her resolve for questions.

“Heartless? It seems you have misunderstood me. Souls beyond divine ones are beneath my wasting time arguing about. What I am arguing is whether your motives are true or not. Galbar… is a long way from here, that is true. It is also true that what I experienced might not be what others experienced during their summoning unto this world. This much satisfies my first question, but you have yet to answer the second…”

”Do you truly care?”

Melantha was taken aback by Vakk’s question, and she pondered on it for a good while. In the end, she sighed. “I guess I do not,” she replied. “But I strongly believe that once posed, a question must be answered, whether the answer is meaningful or not. I thought a god like you, with a domain over Speech itself, would relish in the mere chance at talking, much less answering simple questions. It appears I was mistaken…”

Vakk allowed a frown to come across his face, ”Our roles were not chosen. I am still myself, despite the Architect transporting me here. I do not like questions, especially ones where one does not truly care what the answer may be.” He craned his head down to her once more before speaking, ”Did you wish to be a goddess of question asking?”

”If it were up to me, I would not have been brought here in the first place. But that’s not something that can be changed now, I am afraid…” Melantha said before going silent. She moved behind Katharsos, now evidently having dropped the matter altogether. At the end of the day, it was him that was faced with the decision to help Vakk or not and not Melantha.

And then Katharsos broke his silence. ”This argument is being rendered moot by one bleak reality: Vakk, it might well be beyond the realm of possibility to grant you what you seek. Much time have passed and I have already recycled the majority of the broken souls that were brought here alongside us. If the soul in question still remains, time is of the essence and you must tell me all that you know of it if there is to be any hope of retrieving it in time. We can defer this discussion and speak of these other things while we look.”

For a moment, Vakk kept his eyes on Melantha as she moved behind Katharsos, almost looking through him before he snapped his jaws. ”Her name is Atmav and I am… close to her. After all, she was dragged here with me, perhaps she could be repeating my name? Regardless, she is a capable warrior with unwavering loyalty. As for how she may look, I remember she has four, blackened wings. She also has two large horns on her head and she lives without eyes, just as I.” Vakk spoke, returning his true attention to Katharsos before he looked out onto the sea of souls. ”I merely hope that there is enough time to find her.”

”Time?” Katharsos’ echoed, his face contorted into some unknowable expression. ”We need more than mere time! I must devise some means to go about sorting through the millions of souls. I am not omniscient here; try as I do, I can witness only a small fraction of those that enter the pyres. Never in my mind did I conjure some scenario where the fate of one particular soul would be of any consequence in the grand scheme of things, where I would need to find and isolate it. Nonetheless, you have presented me with an interesting challenge, and one that I will accept.”

But he was ever a pragmatist and a realist. ”Naturally, the odds still do not favor you. It is unlikely that we will find this ‘Atmav’, but now then, let us waste no more time on idle banter,” he declared, and yet even as the last word fell from his mouth and he grew silent, he simply remained. Were it not for the gentle ebb and flow of the tiny flames that made up his incandescent form, he may as well have been a statue suspended there in space.

Sometimes Katharsos’ strange mannerisms came across as outright infuriating, and here, when he seemed to be doing precisely nothing and yet by his own admission time was of the essence, Vakk felt angry. He let out a low growl before he spoke to Katharsos, ”Do you wish to make a fool of me? Why do you just sit there looking like a fool yourself?” Vakk snapped his jaws in annoyance, trying to get the death god’s attention once more.

The flames of his teeth elongated as Katharsos’ entire form flared up and became an ominous red. Yet there was still only a tinge of anger that crept into his words, ”Calm yourself. You are meant to be the very god of talk; you must know to think before you speak. And all beings should strive to reflect before they act!”

The stain of blood diffused away and he quickly reverted to his usual orange hue, and once again he suspended himself in silence and stillness. The other two’s patience was tested for a while longer before Katharsos suddenly proclaimed, ”To order all souls to assemble themselves before us and be inspected would be absurd; those decayed ones that cry out for mercy do not deserve the cruelty of being tortured or humiliated so. Besides, to manually inspect them all would take far too long and even then we might overlook the one that you seek. No, we need a more elegant system--a filter, of sorts.”

Over the coming minutes, the light of all the surrounding stars suddenly dimmed. As the tide of souls that had been fueling the pyres’ raging forms abruptly halted everywhere at once, the sky seemed ever dimmer.

But there was a great, glowing aurora of nebulous souls that was being formed as they were all brought together.

Vakk thought to himself for a moment, watching the aurora form before he turned his head to Katharsos. ”A filter? Perhaps something that allowed us to sort through what they may be speaking of? The one I seek would no doubt be talking about her adventures,” he suggested, his voice calm and steady after Katharsos had snapped at him. However, perhaps the God of Death had a point. It was Vakk’s irrationality that had caused Eurysthenes to become an enemy, and to make Li’Kalla suffer like the grindstone he used her for.

”I would presume that she too would be in better condition than many of the other souls, considering she entered alongside you. So we know this soul’s shape, its name, its…persona.”

Before the rapidly approaching stream of souls, there flew a lonely object that gleamed faintly as it reflected the light of Heliopolis. It was a massive crystal, the same that had first borne Katharsos to his Sphere. Not knowing what to do with the thing, he had abandoned it to drift through space, but now he realized a new and final purpose for it.

Its blurring speed came to an immediate halt right before Katharsos’ bulk, and from his mouth the god breathed a stream of cold fire. The flames engulfed the crystal and wreathed it in a layer of strangely colored and pulsating lights, and when they receded, the big hunk of quartz had been reforged into a prismatic and perfectly circular lens. The object hummed with power, and as Katharsos leaned in to whisper to it all that he had been told of the one called Atmav, her faint and ghostly likeness (as imagined by Katharsos, anyways) began to appear inside the lens’ depths if one squinted closely enough.

Then the vast tide of souls was suddenly upon them, and by the wordless direction of Katharsos, they all soared right for the massive lens and passed through it with their ethereal masses. The stream broke apart upon passing through the Lens of Souls as all the individual spirits were swept away back towards the stars that they had been destined for. Hundreds flew through every second, their wailing and shouting and confused muttering all blending together into one din; however, there was still a line so long that it stretched so far into the distance of the empty void that it blurred out of sight.

Katharsos carefully examined the process for a few minutes before deciding that all was working as he had envisioned and intended, and only then did his rigid expression fade. ”If this soul that you seek is still in existence, it will be found and separated from the others,” he assured Vakk.

Melantha observed from the sidelines the creation of this divine object, and marveled at how it was able to distinguish souls from one another. She reasoned she could learn more about souls by meditating on it, how it filtered and chose which souls to let through and which to keep behind. For now, though, she opted to remain silent. Vakk’s business seemed to not be over just yet.

”This is good! I must thank you for your effort, Katharsos,” Vakk said a true smile coming across his face, knowing that this nightmare of a journey would soon over. He looked out out into the sea of souls, watching the filter cast the rejected ones back to whatever dark hole they had crept from. This was good, progress was being made and now he knew what more he had to do, knowing that if he could control death then he would control life, ”You have been a spectacular friend. I must say, you are more powerful than I have imagined, such is befitting a God of Death. I have full faith that even if we do not find her, you and I may create fantastic things.”

His head shifted to face the Goddess, ”Even with you. You watch and gather information, such attribute is excellent with creating magnificent things, but… what stops you from using your power?”

“I do not understand your question, Vakk. I cannot find any reason for using my powers under the circumstances. Katharsos has created the necessary tool for finding the lost soul you seek, and quite a finely crafted tool it is, If I may add,” Melantha replied curtly. Katharsos softly uttered his thanks, but kept his gaze transfixed upon the Lens of Souls.

“You should take a note from Chopstick Eyes and make something… superfluous,” Vakk said before he looked back at the souls.

Superfluous? Now Melantha was genuinely confused as to what Vakk meant with those words. “I have yet to visit Galbar and have no knowledge of the other gods’ creations. However, I do plan on descending at some point. I will keep your suggestion in mind for when that moment comes.”

“I can tell you that there is much on Galbar,” Vakk informed, not shifting his gaze as the device continued its filtering.

How were those two able to so quickly lose sight of their objection and then banter back and forth about nothing? Katharsos remained silent and allowed the conversation to die.

---

---

Time had grueling gone by, each second turning into untold hours of simply watching the Lens sift through the souls that slowly made their way through. Vakk had been impatient and the silence between the three gods did not help him as he did not know what the Lens would do if it did find Atmav. Would it even find her? Was this whole expedition doomed to failure? What would he do if it were a failure?

Vakk growled before breaking the silence that plagued him for so long, a disappointed and frustrated voice taking control, ”It seems that this task was doomed from the very start. Perhaps you had burned her soul already, I do thank you for-” He ended his sentence abruptly as he looked back at the Lens of Souls, noticing that a soul was trying to pass through it but failing to for some unknown reason. It was like a fly trying to find the window, merely hitting the side of the lens in a futile effort to get through it. What was once a frown of frustration turned into a twisted grin of questionable intent as he gave a low laugh.

”Thank you for finding her.”

Melantha flew closer to the lens, her divine sense enveloping it, analyzing it. The interaction between the chosen soul and the lens was something of note, as the lens seemingly barred the soul from leaving and instead kept it locked near its surface. “Katharsos, you must let me study this creation of yours after all is said and done,” she exclaimed.

”Of course,” he answered both of them without hesitation. Pride and fascination beamed across Katharsos’ face for the first time since he had attained godhood. Ah, here was something that he could be proud of--a plan that had worked, and one that had been recognized with praise rather than riotous objection. It was only then that he realized this soul was trapped on the Lens and struggling like a fly in a spiderweb, pressed against the strange object by the inescapable pull driving the current of souls. With a thought, Katharsos broke that current and permitted the Sky of Pyres to return to its natural order; the endless stream of incoming souls dissolved as they were all swept to the nearest of those various stars strewn across the void. Meanwhile, Atmav was gently lifted off and guided closer to the three watching gods.

Vakk could not help himself as he moved his massive head towards the soul of the one it had taken far too long to achieve. He wanted to enact his revenge against her at that moment, but there were witnesses nor did he have the strength within him to make her suffer the way he desired. ”Atmav…” Vakk muttered, his tendrils slowly moving forward to touch the soul, they stopped mere hair lengths away from Atmav. ”No…

His head craned towards Katharsos before speaking, ”It is not my place to bring back what is dead. You should bring her back from this dread. This is only fitting.” Vakk retracted his tendrils from the soul as he had spoke before shaking his head. It seemed as though he was hesitant to bring back what he had traveled all this way to acquire, but Vakk would leave the choice to Katharsos, as death was his domain and not the Lord of Talk’s.

That shouldn’t have taken Katharsos aback, for Vakk had already offered his motivations and his purpose, but it nonetheless did. There was something...repugnant about the very idea of something being restored from the dead. So Katharsos looked inward, worried that it might be rooted in some hubris or pride, but he was left without any immediate answers. He had felt this overwhelming urge once before, when Seihdhara had pleaded for her release. But even that was not so bad; he had not restored her so much as released her that she could find a means to enliven herself. It seemed nothing short of obvious that the dead should remain that way; to think otherwise was like arguing against the oceans of Galbar (that walled garden far, far below) being blue.

”Why should this one be ‘brought back’? Is it not enough to have this one returned to your safekeeping, be it in flesh or in soul only?”

He had already sacrificed principles and bent the rules on that day just in creating that great procession of souls that he’d sent through the Lens, and now he was doing it once more in permitting this one soul to be claimed by another god. Now, he was beginning to realize that he didn’t truly hold Vakk in such high regard that he would bend a third time as part of this grand favour.

”As I have said, it is not fair that she should have died due to the Architect bringing her here when it only should have been me,” he feigned desperation before he seemingly calmed himself. ”I suppose I have bothered you enough, however. Perhaps I should go to another god to try and bring her back,” Vakk sighed, turning away from the death god to gather Atmav’s soul. The struggling form of Atmav tried to pull away from the invisible guide to escape from the Lord of Talk, but he muttered a few simple words which broke her fight. Afterwards she was silent enough, a feature Vakk appreciated of Atmav. His tendrils gingerly wrapped themselves around the soul before he turned to face Katharsos.

_{He appeals to fairness and justice, ignorant of the hypocrisy therein. How is it ‘fair’ that one can escape death when all others must succumb?}

”I did enjoy this time. Perhaps when I visit again, it will not be a favour I ask?”

Regret and doubt were already beginning to circle around his mind like vultures, but through his concentration Katharsos staved them off. He nodded his farewell to Vakk, and answered, ”Treasure this most valued consideration that you were given, for I do not think that this will be a common occurrence. Perhaps one day our positions will be mirrored and it will be I who asks for a favor from you, my friend and equal. Until such time I shall bid you swift journeying. Know that you are welcome in my realm, bleak though it may be.”

Vakk only silently nodded with a light smile coming to his face, a few final words being spoken to Katharsos, ”Know a favor will be repaid. Do not be dismayed, or be stayed, from coming to Sanvādam, the Realm of Talk. All you must do is follow the sweet sound in the ground.” Vakk bowed his head before he turned and took his leave.

He stopped a get moments later before he turned back, ”Say, is there, perhaps, a path that may take me to Galbar? I managed to come through a rather… difficult path through the Infinite Maze, and I’d rather not deal with that heartache again.”

”Intriguing! I had wondered just how you had arrived here…” Katharsos blinked a few times, absent-mindedly contemplating this new revelation that this foreign Sphere (which he innately knew to be that of the one called Eurysthenes) could brush up against his own. But then the grip of Vakk’s impatient aura drew his attention back to the moment. ”I have breached the various seals between this place and Galbar; they are held open by the pressure of an intangible storm that sweeps up the souls of the dead and carries them to their final destination here. I could leverage it open wide enough for you to pass through in the flesh, and you could then descend back to Galbar, but beyond that I can offer you little assistance.”

”That would be enough. Though, I grow tired of constantly thanking you,” Vakk joked before his impatience got the better of him, forcing him to finally leave and make his way back to Galbar. Knowing what to look for, it was easy enough to find the so-called Vortex of Souls; he needed only to follow the steady streams of braying souls that were ascending into the Sky of Pyres, and eventually they all led to one rift that radiated power. True to his word, Katharsos indeed manipulated the gateway such that it was barely large enough to permit Vakk’s passage, and so the god slipped through and was swept downwards through the Celestial Spheres.

While the two gods were saying the farewells, Melantha had already started studying the Lens. She did not particularly care about Vakk enough to see him off and considering that they were not in her Sphere where she would be their host, it made even more sense for her to stay quiet and proceed with her own interests. Trying to be as gentle as possible with Katharsos’ creation, Melantha exerted her power upon it. A film of darkness enveloped the faintly glowing Lens which Melantha used to absorb whatever little essence leaked out of the divine object. By analyzing the composition of said essence she could pinpoint what changes were made to its fundamental form due to the Lens’ mechanisms, and thus she could deduce how those mechanisms worked. Of course, Melantha also could rid herself of the hassle by simply asking Katharsos to explain how it worked, but she thought the challenge of reverse engineering the divine tool was something worth her time and effort.

It took him only a moment or two to realize what she was doing. ”It is a much more precise, delicate, and…elegant tool of purity than these astral fires that I am made to use elsewhere. Take care not to contaminate it with any of your own divine essence, for that might irreparably damage it.” Lost in her thoughts as she was, however, Melantha did not hear his words.

At first, she was confident in her deduction skills, but as time progressed she realized that she’d stumped upon something quite difficult, her mental strain evident by the ever-evolving frowning of her brows. Nevertheless, she refused to turn to Katharsos for instructions.

He remained there for a while, watching her as well as the distant stars. One by one the pyres began to glower bright once again as the (temporarily diverted) stream of souls was now being directed once more as it had been. The silence and the nothingness about were rare moments of peace, but he could hardly enjoy them. There was a growing itch of sorts; he felt like he was in dereliction of his duty as he remained just suspended there in idle rest. He had to watch over the pyres. It was his duty, to see all the memories that he could before they passed away, so that someone would remember.

Gingerly, he broke the silence and Melantha’s concentration. ”I must return to my place now. I will need to bring the Lens with me.”

Having not made much progress in her understanding of the Lens, Melantha’s displeasure was evident upon coming out of the trance-like state she had fallen into. “You assured me that you would let me study your creation.” The goddess looked around before turning back at Katharsos and continued. “I don’t see Vakk anymore, so I assume your business with him is over? If that’s the case then I hope you will indulge me this small favor. You promised.” If Melantha’s eyes were not covered, they would be staring straight at Katharsos.

”Vakk is gone,” he granted, ”and yet I have held to my promise. You have probed at the Lens for a long time and realized nothing, and nor will given another hundred years, for your method is flawed. You will not understand it by trying to witness what leaves the vessel. One must look instead at what enters, so retract that film with which you’ve covered it.” Taken aback by the revelation, Melantha sighed and did as Katharsos instructed. “So all my efforts are for naught. I thought all that time spent under your tutelage and the knowledge I gained would be of help, but it seems there is more to this item than meets the eye,” she commented dejectedly.

“To break an object, there is always one angle that works best--one point weakest to outside forces, and one direction to apply the force through that point. Just so, there is always one true perspective. Finding that perspective, knowing where to look, is where all of the difficulty lies,” was his strange and circular way of trying to offer some words of comfort, which Melantha accepted, albeit still feeling a little glum due to what she considered her failure. ”Shall I show you where to look, and what to see? It is the least that I could do.”

“I shall be in your care once more,” she promptly replied.

”If you are to garner or hold to anything from me, let it be to the sentiment that the pursuit of the correct perspectives and opinions is our imperative. One can never have certainty, for there is always a storm great enough to cast down a tree well watered and with the deepest of roots. Natheless, when you contemplate from many different angles and come to arrive at one, you will have done more than most and you will be able to deservedly have confidence in the truth of your path.”

He was silent for a moment, letting that sink in even as he thought for a moment about what to say next. ”I hold strongly that this philosophy is all self-evident; the Great One that brought us here has but only one eye, and in that knowledge I feel affirmed. But there is a chance, perhaps imperceptibly slight, that I am wrong. If that were the case, I hope that I would be able to witness the falsity, accept it, adjust my mind accordingly, and then reconcile my new understanding with what other things I’ve held to be true. But I have digressed too far. Let me explain the intricacies of this Lens.”

His intangible will tugged at the object and spun it such that it caught the glare of distant Heliopolis head-on. Through the prismatic glass did the light travel, and rainbows exploded through every facet of the crystal as the light was separated into its many colors. Aware that Melantha remained blind, he tilted the Lens an almost imperceptible bit such that some of these tiny bands of color fell upon her, hoping that she might sense the difference between them.

”See how the light itself is split as it falls into the crystal? That is its only secret. Call it entropic recursion; the rainbows are split, and their products are split, on and on until only the simplest and smallest and most base of things remain visible, and then all is laid bare and there is no hiding. The boulders are broken into pebbles, which are made into grains of sand, which are made into near nothingness, and then the minutiae can be observed. The Lens only bends and ceases its relentless destruction when it beholds the fundamental thing that it is told to search for; all else is broken into objects so small that they are able to pass right through, almost intangibly, and then be bent and assembled back into shape such that they reform as they were on the other side. This might have been readily seen, but the flaw of your approach was that you covered the Lens in a film of darkness and permitted neither light nor soul nor boulder enter its depths, so of course there was nothing to be seen emerging from the other side.”

Melantha remained silent as she absorbed Katharsos’ explanation, and even after he had finished, she kept to herself. After putting everything in her head in order, a question had arisen which she posed to the god of Death. “You say that the Lens breaks things down to their most minute components which are then observed to see if they are what the Lens is tasked to search for, but creating such an object with a function such as that would entail the creator to have a thorough understanding of nearly everything, so that the reconstruction process can be guaranteed to be flawless. I think neither you, nor I, nor every other deity bar the Architect maybe, is privy to that kin-”

”I think that you misunderstand; it was only a metaphor,” he interrupted her. For emphasis, he conjured a small mote of dust and hurled it at the Lens, and the thing bounced off its surface. ”It breaks light, but any mundane crystal could be shaped for that purpose. This one is made special by how it separates the soul from those dyes that color it, those things that go on to become impurities in the pyres. Interesting though they might be, I care little for what things…constitute the mundane objects around us. My quandary and my purpose in this world relates to soul and that which we cannot touch and feel.”

“So the Lens is, essentially, a better version of your pyres?” Melantha questioned somewhat confused.

”I told you that I think this much more elegant than those crude fires, yes. But its purpose is a different one.”

“I see. I guess then that what you have already taught me covers the inner workings of the Lens. There is nothing more to gain from studying it,” Melantha concluded. “I shall take my leave now. There is much to do yet so little time. Thank you for your hospitality, Katharsos. You have done more for me than you may think you have, and of course, you will always be welcome to my domain.”

Melantha gave a graceful bow as a sign of her thanks as she slowly faded out of existence, rapidly merging with the darkness of space. Only a wisp of essence was left behind in her place to indicate she was ever there in the first place which soon also dispersed into nothingness.

Asleep once more, Seihdhara dreamt that she was carried away by a single strand of red hair. Down through a lake of blood (the Seihdh Lake) and through a gateway. Once through, a new world presented itself before Seihdhara's eyes. Though she was well-aware that this was just a dream, a part of her knew that it was more than that. This was that sphere that the Old Ogre had wanted her to make.

Looking up, the goddess saw the vastness of space, its great darkness, and the stars, as well as other Spheres - the closest of which was the desolate broken moon that Orvus had created, and which was called Veradax. The blood-red light of the Horizon Grotto and fiery light of the Heliopolis met and mixed far above with the flame-orange of Seihdhara's sphere, creating a crimson celestial dance and embrace.

The sphere was saturated with an electric energy and hotness that lit up the fires of ambition and life within the goddess, in defiance of all the entropic forces in the world. Happy with all this, she looked around herself.

A path beaten into hardened mud led from the entrance of the sphere to its centre, where there stood a stone circle. Within said circle was an oak grove, at the centre of which was a particularly majestic oak tree with leaves of burning flame. Cinder and ash fell from it and were carried for a short distance before settling on the warm earth within the circle from which grew tall red grass.

Everywhere else outside the stone circle nature had taken over - here all sorts of strange plants grew and competed, clearly due to Phystene's World Tree. It was clear that the sphere did not do anything to resist the World Tree's influence, for the place was full of life and vegetation everywhere. All vegetation extended from the branches and leaves of the World Tree, so they had no roots of their own. The great oak tree with flaming leaves in the centre of the Stone Circle was, in fact, a great branch of the World Tree.

As the goddess walked by she stepped on a sapling and found that blood burst from it rather than sap. She bent down and brought some the red substance to her lips and felt invigorated and empowered. But she also felt the heavy burden that killing and combat brought.

The sphere melted away and she found herself sitting - still dreaming - below on Galbar. She looked up, and there in the sky was a red-orange stain that looked a lot like a seal. She laughed and decided to call her sphere the Seal. Then there was darkness and she returned to a dreamless sleep.

---

When Ya-Shuur became Ya-Shuur the first sound he heard was the screaming. But for a while before he heard the screaming, he was the screaming. The screaming that he heard came from a never-ending swarm of souls. He saw that these screaming and wailing souls were being thrown into many furnaces that were dotting the emptiness of space. Ya-Shuur was horrified by it all. But he could do nothing except watch helplessly. Ya-Shuur did not understand why this was being done. There seemed to be no one he could turn to for answers. The screaming was the question. And screaming was the answer. Just screaming.

In all those screams there was one scream that was different. When Ya-Shuur heard it he knew that it was not coming from a soul that was crying out against the injustice of the waiting inferno. And it was not screaming at being condemned without a hearing or a trial. It was the cry of a mighty and powerful creature. And this made the cry bizarre to Ya-Shuur. So he followed it. He wanted to know why a creature so powerful and so mighty would be crying out against injustice done to it. “Can injustice ever be done to a mighty and powerful creature like this one?” Ya-Shuur asked himself.

It took him a long time to trace the cry. Finally he found the one who had screamed. She was sleeping on a big blue bird. She seemed happy and at peace. She did not seem like someone who was suffering from injustice to Ya-Shuur. He thought that maybe he had made a mistake. Or that maybe he had not followed the trail properly. He thought that maybe in all those screams for justice he had accidentally imagined one that was slightly different.

But even though he thought all of this he was still drawn to Li’Kalla. While she seemed perfectly fine there was something not quite right about her. The creature (because Ya-Shuur was just a strange creature partly soul and partly scream) stayed far away because he was shy. So he floated there and just looked at her from far away. He thought that maybe if he looked hard enough he would know what was wrong.

Serenis frowned in mild disapproval. Some of the trees were refusing to mend, yet the Pantheon just kept growing and adding to her list of tasks. Some of the trees grew certain thick branches that could be mistaken for saplings on their trunks, each with their own individual essences and identities. They could only be Avatars due to their close connections with the gods they were created from. There were also saplings that rose from the ground nearby the trees that were clearly meant to be the other created beings from the gods. At the moment, all of them were children, though perhaps it would change in the future.

Plus, many of the gods' favors were shifting.

Shengshi was having problems with his own avatar, which was embarrassing in of itself, though it seemed like the avatar, Xiaoli, was not seeing him unfavorably. A shame, too. That was something that needed to be reported.

The little one, Hermes, was making plenty of friends with gods, avatars, and other mortals alike. That one had a promising future. Speaking of Hermes, it shared an especially interesting bond with Shengshi's avatar, which Serenis found highly amusing.

Sartravius and Narzhak were developing... honor? Respect? Honorable respect? It wasn't good, yet it wasn't bad either.

Orvus created a child, but it seems like he was not fond of her, and Kalmar was the one to even name her. Arya... a fair name. Strange... was there a trace of Arae's influence in her? No, surely not. It must be her imagination.

Even all of that was merely a fraction of what had changed. Nevertheless, things had progressed very far now, and Serenis could no longer delay it. Serenis had to make her report to Arae...



Arae was currently flying in a circle, her mind still in disarray after her talk with K'nell. Between the confusing dreamland, K'nells cryptic words, and Arae's lack of endgame goals, she was unsure of just what to do. Was there anything she could do? Was there even a point in trying? What if she just made things worse by intervening?

Arae looked down and saw that she had managed to create an entire archipelago around her island, complete with various bits of greenery, sandy beaches, and even a small mountain or two. The Dragon's Crown had developed surprisingly well, but Arae was in no condition to admire her work. She was still confused on what to do. Maybe a conversation with Serenis would kill a bit of time...

Lady Arae? I have a report for you, Serenis' voice sounded in Arae's mind.

Arae was initially confused, thinking that she hadn't made the move to call yet, but quickly realized that Serenis was quicker and already calling her instead. Composing herself, Arae responded, "Ahh, Serenis. Perfect timing. What do you have for me?"

---

"...Oh my," Arae finally said after Serenis finished her report. "So much has happened already. When did Orvus get a child? It hasn't been that long since I visited him. And Shengshi... what happened to you?"

There was no longer any time for idleness. Now was a time to meet up with her siblings. "Serenis, stay in contact. I may need some of the information as I go," Arae ordered. Serenis' response was a swift, "Yes, my lady."

Composing her message, Arae sent a short divine message to her first target:

"Shengshi, a word if I may. I hope you don't mind if I come to visit. It's been too long since we've last spoken."

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Chocolate feet reunited with dead soil, once more Ekon stood within The Ugly Underbelly. Finished with peppering his island paradise with monstrous howls and crippling terrors, he’d returned to his sphere. While there was still much work yet to be done above, the Fear God knew he’d require an “industry” of some kind to bring his scheme to fruition. At the very least he needed helpers to maintain the flow of fear from his sphere into Galbar. What form these “assistants” would take was another question entirely. “Perhaps they should look kind of spooky.” He'd contemplated this for a long moment, throwing casual glances at the cracked dirt below. “Yes! This time I will in fact not go against the grain.” A comedically exuberant declaration rang throughout the empty realm to no one in particular.“Also, I should really stop talking to myself.” He ended in a not-so enthusiastic tone. Even as a member of the divine he still adhered to some “mortal” qualities.

“Anyway, lets’ commence…shit I did it again.”

With lethargic grace Ekon released a shower of dark radiance at the fractured landscape, etching a jagged scar in endless terrain. Horrors old and new liberated from decayed earth rejoiced, as evidenced by their mindless howls and roars of approval. With each passing minute the crevice widened with a deafening movement of rock and stone until finally its separation ceased. Similar apathy showed itself in Ekon motions when the evil god dangled his hand over the rupture, allowing vile ichor to drip into the yawning void. Numerous drops of godly blood plummeted into the bottomless abyss, empowering the wailing gales surrounding them. Divine essence wedded with abstract terrors, twisting into horrible monstrosities yet unseen. When the roars subsided, Ekon knew his servants were ready to perform their duties.

“Wake up.” Quiet and low, it was a sweetly worded request unbecoming of Ekon.

On command, countless hands slapped against broken earth, followed by “things.” Encased in porcelain accoutrements, grotesque facsimiles of human bodies made of bloodied sinew and tendon made themselves known. And despite their humanoid forms Ekon knew them to be little more than tools meant to maintain his brand of evil. In Ekon’s absence it fell to them to seed Galbar with fear. He knew It was an easy enough task for the glorified dolls he’d made to perform. All he needed was to construct a base from, which these waking nightmares would work. It would act as the nexus for his realm, and when the time came, it would be used to cultivate greater horrors.

Still, powerfully charged with godly essence Ekon’s hand turned upwards, signaling the emergence of an ominous structure. Dark and stocky a sickly yellow light emanated from its innards, shining through massive glass panes looking outward. Mutely they turned to face the black edifice, driven by Ekon’s machinations they walked single file into the deceptively large building. Inside the alabaster constructs took their place at a podium where their bodies absorbed countless terrors drifting up from the underbelly, before enriching its potency. The newly empowered fears were then channeled out of The Ugly Underbelly into Galbar itself. From creatures in the night to economic woes, even minor concerns became crippling dread when enriched with a construct’s evil. Not one for names Ekon saw fit to simply call them the Alabaster Dolls. Much like the aptly named Black Edifice, in which they performed their obligations. Ekon’s naming conventions were typically inspired by appearance than bothering to find some fancy name for it.

Confident that his godly duties were in the safe hands of the fledgling species, Ekon parted from his private reality. Powered by divine vigor Ekon flew off, destined for the world above. Satisfied with salting the smorgasbord of flora and animals that made up his islands. Ekon turned his attention northward, Li island awaited in the distance, its form yet untainted by his poison. “Another excellent conduit for my influence.” Sinister intentions made themselves clear before the dark chocolate deity rocketed off. Ebon wings split Galbar’s skies in twain, tattered remnants of clouds left in their wake. Thankfully, the little goddesses’ isle resided not too far from his own ecological creations, which meant his journey would be relatively short if uneventful.

“Ooh, how pretty.” Mild amusement spoke in his stead, surprised at how well developed the little paradise was. Ponds mingled with foothills and sheets of grass that covered everything like a giant blanket. From his position over the isle Ekon took in its scenery before he landed on the lovely landscape with a soft thud. Hand alight with deific energies spilled from Ekon’s hand, seeping into the ground beneath him. The island was devoured from within, with the creation of an elaborate underground cave system. Despite the renovation his meddling was not intended to be noticeable for he did not shake the earth, and the only sound would be the crumbling and moving of dirt and rock. When he’d completed the task at hand Ekon channeled centuries of fearful things into the newly hollow earth.

---

Two kids played on the Plains of Elamann, the land where the Great Hero of Old fought back against the growing infestation. The land where Humanity had met its salvation. It was a sprawling land, with tall grass swaying in the gentle winds and sparse trees reaching for the sky and with flowers and small critters dotting the landscape. Beyond a hill, there was a field of lavender flowers, and in that field, Two kids played.

One was a pale girl, not older than five cycles and the other was a boy, perhaps ten cycles of age. The boy chased the girl through the field, popping up from bushes and rocks and scaring her while she laughed and tried to outrun him for once.

The boy sported bruises all along his body. He had a black eye, ruffled hair and dirtied and somewhat ragged clothing, but he looked healthy otherwise. The girl was clearly pampered, she was pale, was dressed in a simple yet extremely ornate and expensive silk dress and most of all, sported the silver-white eyes of Royalty. Her platinum blonde hair swayed in the wind as she ran and spun and jumped around, giggling and laughing.

They’d do this every day, when her Guardian would disappear at midday. They’d meet up and play and laugh. It was a simple thing, but to the children, it meant the world.

The girl stumbled and fell, and when she looked up she saw something looming over her.

Her heart stopped, her eyes widened, and a gasp died in her throat before coming to life.

The beauty of the lavender field turned into a blood red stain of terror.

“LAINA!” A voice screamed, and yet she never tore her eyes away from the large entity. Slimy, foul, with a dozen irregularly polygonal eyes and two beaks under its legs. She turned and crawled away, but the thing grabbed her ankle.

“LAINA, RUN!”

The grip of the thing came loose, and when she turned to look, the boy was there, holding the chipped wooden practice sword he always carried in a grip worthy of the Royal Knights that followed her Father.

She curled up and merely stared at the scene from a few meters back, the only thing between her and the beast being the brave boy.

He half turned his face and smirked uncertainly at her. She could see the tears welling up in his eyes.

“Laina, I’ll protect you.” The boy said under his breath.

The ground shook, the thing lunged forward, time slowed down.

Laina saw it all. The boy’s energy level exploding. She didn’t know it at the time, but she saw his soul expand to its full potential, and in a show of pure willpower, his wooden sword was engulfed in the very flame of life, a white fire. He moved as fast as the wind. In a practiced movement, he sidestepped and tackled the thing. There was a sickening crack.

The boy grabbed his sword and with all his strength, stabbed into the torso of the thing. A white flame erupted into an explosion, and everything went black.

When the girl came to, the first thing she heard were the screams and the panicking voices. She was being carried away by a maid, and over the maid’s shoulder, she could see knights surrounding the thing, and a mage bent over the writhing, screaming boy. His face was a horrendously beautiful mix of black, white and red.



‘The Squire with the Mangled Face’, they’d call him. Ugly, horrendous, disgusting to look at. Everyone said those things. His own mentor treated him like a curse cast upon him. And yet, the one known as Laina, had requested him as her new Guardian. They’d spend all waking moment together, and when the time would come for her daily walk through nature, Laina would forego all formality and hold the Squire’s hand and lose herself in the moment. Everytime she looked up at his mangled face, the mess of shoddily reconstructed flesh that had left him without eyes, nose or a mouth she saw not the ugliness, but the brave soul of the boy who had once risked everything to protect her.

She saw his true beauty.

They had grown now. Soon he’d be leaving for the Faraway, to fight against great evils and protect everyone in the realm. She was proud of him, fighting through adversity and discrimination, becoming a Knight. She was proud… And yet, before a single tear could escape her eyes, the Squire stopped her and held her face in his rough, calloused and mistreated hands.

He was gentle. As he pressed his malformed face against hers, she returned his affection with a kiss and a gentle sob.

He couldn’t speak, and yet his actions said more than the words of everyone else. He wiped her tears carefully with his hands, knowing by memory the landscape of her beautiful, delicate face.

His face twisted, and his neck made a strange, bulging movement. Laina knew what this meant, he was as torn as she was. They embraced each other. An innocent, loving embrace the likes of which they could only share with each other. The daughter of a Great Lord and the squire with the mangled face were in love.



“H-Hurry, they’re going to catch up to us!”

“They’re right behind us!”

…

It had been an average day. She’d woken up, gotten ready with the help of her handmaiden, and did her usual duties, which included talking to people and walking around the palace. It had been a few years since her beloved Guardian had left for the war, and it had been months since she’d received any letters from him. She’d been worried for his safety.

Now, she was scheduled to be married to a man she had never even seen, in hopes that the marriage would strengthen the realm’s position against the ‘Infestation’, whatever that was.

Her Guardian was probably dead, a part of her mind told her over and over, but her heart refused to believe it -- How could a man that managed to fend off a great evil as a mere boy die a meaningless death, without anyone there to hold him, or without leaving anything in the world?

He was alive, Laina told herself every time. Alive, and he’d come back for her.

And yet fate was cruel, and it enjoyed causing pain and suffering. She would be married, she would be taken far away from home, and then she’d never see her true love again.

Her handmaiden, who’d been walking two steps behind her, noticed her shaky demeanor quickly and preemptively wiped her tears with the soft cloth she carried in her hands. It smelled of lavenders.

“Thank you, Rik’Mai.”

The girl curtsied and quickly fell back behind Laina.

The sun was setting when the time to visit her Father came. Her handmaiden had gone off to help the other servants with one task or another, and she was all alone.

As she passed through the door to her Father’s study, she couldn’t help but shiver under the leers of the two Royal Knights posted to either side of it. What was that about, she thought to herself, I’ve never felt that before…

Inside the study was the man she called Father. His stern, inexpressive face stared directly at her. He suddenly seemed twenty years older than earlier that day at Court.

“Laina, daughter.”

“Yes, Father?” She asked, bowing her head and closing her eyes.

She never saw the two Knights enter the study.

“Daughter, look at me,” Laina lifted her head and looked at her Father, but her eyes instinctively avoided eye contact, “I… I’m sorry.” Laina saw her Father’s armor crack at that moment. He sighed and for a split moment, he looked like a broken man. And then he nodded to the Knights, who were now behind Laina.

They seized her arms, she gasped and looked at them in surprise, eyes wide.

“W-Why?”

“Daughter, I-” Her Father stopped, took in a deep breath, and shook his head. “There’s no use in explaining. Take her.”

And so they did. They lifted her up like she weighed nothing and began dragging her out of the study. She screamed and screamed, “Father! Father! No, don’t let them take me!” Her Father did nothing, merely returning to reading the book in his hands. When they were out of the study, the door closed behind them and one of the Guards’ hands slipped, and so did another. Laina yelped.

“D-Don’t touch me, you filthy animals!” She shouted, kicking the air. To her credit, she never really stopped struggling, up until she was thrown into a cell and the door was locked. thankfully, they never went past the slipping hands, but by the end, Laina was in tears. Sobbing pitifully in her shame as she slowly fixed her fancy dress.



It had been hours since the cell was locked. She’d tried to sleep through the night, but she found no rest. Instead, in the middle of the night she heard a commotion outside of the tower she was being held in. One of her barred windows overlooked the courtyard, where a single figure was illuminated by torchlight, surrounded by at least half a dozen Royal Guards, and those were the ones Laina could see.

“LAINA! GIVE HER BACK, YOU MONSTERS!” Shouted a vaguely familiar voice. It was grainy, and it found its way directly to Laina’s ears.

Instantly, a blush came to her cheeks, and her heart leapt. It was her love! He’d come back for her!

Swords clashed, several cries were heard followed quickly by the sound of flesh being cut and falling to the ground.

“Y-You’ll destroy us all-”

A sword pierced the last remaining guard’s throat. Soon after, several guards assembled in front of the door to her cell, and Laina peeked out through the small barred slit.

“What’s going to happen to me?” She asked the guards.

“Did nobody gag her?”

“Dammit, now we’ll have to hear some meat’s cries when we kill the traitor!”

Traitor? Meat? Laina sank back and went to the far wall. Just earlier they referred to as Princess, and her love was a Hero…

“LAINA!” The voice shook every soul, every brick in the tower. through the slit in her door she saw several flashes of light and after a few moments, blood seeped from below the door into her cell.

There was the clanging of keys, and then the door unlocked. Her love stood on the other side, covered from head to toe in blood. He sheathed his sword, and Laina ran toward him and embraced him tightly, crying.

“T-They locked me in a cell, they touched me-”

“Those bastards!” The Hero’s body lit as hot as a flame in his anger, and Laina recoiled with a wince. “Ow! H-How-”

“Ah, I’m sorry, my love, I’ll explain later. For now, let’s get out of here. Let’s leave all of this behind! It’s our chance to live the life we always desired, Laina!” He said and stretched his arm towards her, holding his palm open with a hopeful expression on his face.

Of course, there was nothing to hesitate about! She’d just saved her! She took his hand, and together they ran to the nearest stable and took a horse.

…

“H-Hurry, they’re going to catch up to us!”

“They’re right behind us!”

Several mounted knights chased them through the city’s main avenue, trampling any peasant unlucky enough to be in their path. Several arrows whizzed past them. One knight caught up to them, but before he could do anything, Laina’s love sliced his sword into the neck of the knight’s horse, killing it instantly and causing the mounted knight to crash into the ground at a breakneck speed. He was quickly trampled to death by the wall of cavalry behind.

“Ack!” Her love winced and grunted as an arrow found its way into his shoulder, right between the pauldron and the back plates.

“Fe’Riq!” Laina cried.

“Don’t fret, Laina!” He narrowly guided the horse to dodge a stall in the middle of the avenue, and dug his hands into his breastplate, pulling out a piece of parchment. “I’ll protect you!” She could barely see the smirk on his face, but it gave her an indescribable joy.

With a pained groan, he lifted the parchment and with both his hands, ripped it.

As he ripped, a portal opened in front of them, and they went through it and emerged onto a clearing in a forest Laina couldn’t recognize. Behind them, the portal closed, and Fe’Riq slowed the horse to a stop.

Carefully, he got off first and then gently helped Laina dismount, grimacing as he used his injured arm.

“Fe’Riq, your arm…” Laina said, worried. She furrowed her brow and checked the wound. “I-I can’t tend to it with our armor in the way…”

“Help me get it off, Laina.”

“But, I don’t know how.”

“I’ll guide you.”

And so, several minutes later, Fe’Riq was unarmoured and shirtless. The arrow had been extracted cleanly, to Laina’s luck, and she only needed to clean the wound. Fortunately, the sounds of a creek nearby alerted them to the presence of water, which they used to its full extent to clean Fe’Riq’s wound.

After that was done, Laina sat on her knees in front of Fe’Riq, who sat cross-legged. He seemed sad.

“Fe’Riq, my love…” She muttered, taking in his face. It was different, she knew. She knew he now had eyes, eyebrows, a nose, a mouth… But she couldn’t see them, they were hazy. It didn’t bother her.

He tilted his head at her. “We’re together now, aren’t we? Aren’t we?”

“Yes, yes we are. My Hero.” She said softly, cupping his head in her hands and kissing his new lips. They tasted of blood, but she didn’t care. He returned the kiss, but eventually pulled away.

“Let me wash you. You must be uncomfortable in that soiled gown.”

“... Y-Yes, please.”

It was quiet, it was warm, and most of all, it was intimate as the two undressed each other and knelt in the creek, hands roaming over each other’s bodies. Soon, they were face to face, with Laina feigning that she was washing Fe’Riq’s chest. Of course, by now they were both clean.

Eventually she dropped the act and just rested her head against his chest and embraced him, hearing his heartbeat. He returned the embrace and, after a while, lifted her chin up with a finger to look into her eyes, and kissed her deeply and passionately.

There, in the creek in the middle of an unknown forest, they became whole.

---

Li’Kalla tossed and turned on Azura’s back, her blush more intense than usual as she muttered and moaned out an unintelligible name.

---

A chill suddenly shook Arya’s body as she laid. Her eyes were forced open by the shiver of her body, only to realize she was laying on a thick slab of ice in a dome of snow. All around her was white; even the fire in the center of the otherwise barren room. Despite it’s dancing flames, no heat seemed to illuminate from it, much to her disappointment. Across the room was a clear exit, a copper coat rack standing guard with a thick fur jacket.

Hesitantly she stood up, confused as to what was going on and where she was. She shivered; it was cold and that jacket looked so cozy. She walked over to the rack, slowly and reached out, touching the thick fur like a child might pet an animal. She put on the jacket, it would keep her from shivering. Then she looked at the exit and walked through. Wherever she was, there was no answers here. Just disappointment.

The blast of the sun off of the white landscape of snow temporarily blinded her. There was a yelp while her eyes adjusted and a helpful hand reached far up and turned down the brightness of the sun, “I’m so very sorry!” a voice as shivering as the tundra apologized.

If it all she was surprised by watch she saw, it wasn’t noticeable. What was noticeable, was that her eyes smiled as she said, ”Oh! That’s so much better, thank you...uh...do you have a name?” she inquired the bundle of coats.

“Of course,” The bundle replied, “I am Idnes, the God of Icebergs. Surely, you have heard of me?”

”Hmmm, no, I’m terribly sorry, my Lord.” she said politely while giving a small bow.

The Bundle puffed up, “It’s alright! Please, call me Poobah.”

Idnes paused, “Grand Poobah.”

Arya nodded, ”Grand Poobah it is!” came her excited voice, ”Say, do you know where I am?” she asked.

“I have a whiff of an idea,” Idnes replied, almost regally, “I would guess you were accidentally dropped off in my sphere on your way to a dream. It happens from time to time, you see.”

”A dream? A sphere?” she asked aloud. ”What are those?”

A gloved hand rubbed under where a chin might be, “Perhaps the other Gods thought it fit to keep this information from the… not Gods.” He sighed, “But, then again, they ignore me so. Perhaps I shall ignore their desires, I am a God too, after all.”

“You see, each God, as it were, has a home. Being the splendiferous beings we are, we call our homes our ‘spheres’, even if they are not spherical. As for a dream, I don’t know the answer to that. Most people seem to know what a dream is without ever being taught, you may be the first to ask.”

“But, but!” Idnes came to his own defense, “You cannot fault me, even in my divine Godhood, to not know how to answer such a question! If you could imagine, you must, most lives come from a birth of some or somewhat and then continue in a line or some such, and at no point in this line (except in cases of philosophy or general inflation of curiosity) does a being ever ask what a dream is, without first already knowing.”

Arya listened to the Grand Poobah, hearing what he said, and trying her hardest to make sense of it. Spheres were homes for gods, she got that but a dream was another beast entirely. Somehow, she already knew what a dream was and...and...she was dreaming?

”So, this is a dream then? That’s...interesting. Huh.” she said.

“Well, if it is,” Idnes thought out loud, “Then you are in the wrong place. You need to go to the Palace of Dreams, that’s where all dreams proper go.”

”Oooh! That sounds right. But, how do I get there?” she wondered aloud.

“That way!” Idnes pointed in the distance, and suddenly, as if she had ignored it before, the impression of a palace was pressed against the dark-blue sky. The Grand Poobah crossed his arms, “Just be careful, dreams are strange things. In fact-” The bundle shook his head, “Well, I shouldn’t say.”

Arya looked to where the Grand Poobah pointed, and she saw the impression of the palace against the sky. How had she missed that? She began to walk towards it, but when the Grand Poobah spoke again she stopped and looked at the bundle again.

She cocked her head and asked, ”Shouldn’t say what, Grand Poobah?”

“Well,” Idnes puffed up as if he was about to solve a great mystery, “Have you ever noticed, or at least, will you have noticed, that in dreams there appears to be such a seamless logic and understanding that so carefully mimics that of reality, even if it shouldn’t, and yet we accept it as real? Well, some days I wonder if this is all a dream and not reality,” He waved his arms as if presenting his sphere, “But who is to say? Good luck on your journey, Disciple of Iceberg.”

She was about to speak what the thought, but stopped. If dreams weren’t really real, but felt real, then that meant…

Her eyes grew soft, and when she spoke her voice was quiet, ”Goodbye...Grand Poobah. Thank you, for your help.” and Arya turned, leaving the bundle of coats behind.

She took three steps and suddenly she wasn’t in the land of snow any longer. In the distance the palace remained, but all around her was a marketplace open to the sunny sky, causing her to sweat under the jacket. Tufts of grass broke through cobblestone roads, and many colorful booths were set up with hawking merchants. Beyond the booths wasn’t much else, besides endless pine forests.

A strange, skinny man looked over at her from his multicolored booth. He himself contrasted his wares, as he was as monochromatic as the land of snow, and bore nothing but white hair, skin and clothes, with only a set of black eyes and a spiral about his forehead to say any different. A long cigarillo perched between his lips, a wisp of purple smoke drifting off its glowing end.

This wasn’t the palace, in fact, it was still in the distance. All around her were strange things and stranger people. Growing hot, she slipped the jacket off and continued, letting it fall to the ground without even looking.

She noticed the dull man and walked over to his colorful booth. The contrast was very apparent as she got closer and it made for a very odd sight.

She spoke at once, but as she did, no sound appeared and instead a large bubble fell out of her mouth and began to float. In response the man reached out with his cigarillo and popped it, her voice coming from the subtle pop, ”Hello! Can you tell me where I am?”

Arya was bewildered at such a display. A flash of the first time she spoke wandered into her mind and how she struggled to speak. When the man popped the bubble she was relieved, but still perplexed.

The man put his cigarillo back into his mouth with a clamp of his teeth, and took a long draw. As he spoke, tendrils of purple smoke escapes his lips, “Now, now, it’s bad business to be buying what I’m selling.”

He pointed a finger at his sign, the words Questions for sale, written across it, “So how about it?” He continued, “Want to buy a question? Very cheap, a single answer for a single question, and then you can keep it forever.”

She squinted her eyes in confusion and scratched her head as she tried to wrap her mind around what the man had said. Buying a question? But how could one do that if they didn’t know the answer...wait just a minute! If this was a dream, then she wasn’t really anywhere but her own head. Right? There was really only one way to figure it out.

”Yes.” she stated, her voice popping from bubbles. ”I would like to buy a question.”

”I am in my head.” she said. That was an answer right?

“Where do you think you are?” The man handed a card to Arya, while taking her answer from her in the form of a bauble. His eyes sparkled, as if expecting more.

So she was right after all. She then took the card and looked it over, the question he had just said and she had previously answered written on it.

”This place is just a dream.” she answered again.

“What is this place?” The man handed her another card and took her answer from her again.

Her eyes smiled as she received her question. She thought again about what to answer and quickly came up with, ”I am on a journey to the Palace of Dreams.”

“Where are you going?” The man asked, handing her another card.

This time she decided to say something completely random, ”The pine trees are green, the sky is blue and your name is Bubbado” she said.

“What are two truths and a lie?” The man questioned, card in hand.

Clever, very clever she thought. But Arya realized she could probably keep answering questions for a long time and never really get anywhere. It was time to move on.

”It was fun but I must continue on. Thank you.” she said.

“What do you think of all this?” The man handed her a final card and then leaned back to smoke his cigarillo, flicking the ash. Arya nodded and continued to walk down the path, eyeing the market place as she did. Up on the horizon, the palace still beckoned.

A few steps forward and suddenly there was a loud clang. Her eyes flickered for a brief second. Slowly a welcoming array of horns and tubas met her ears with a sweetness punctuated by timely thumps of a playful drum. Violins wailed quietly, tying the orchestra together into a playful, and mystical dance.

All around her flowery dresses spun and twirled with suited gentlemen. Orbs of emotion and thought bobbed between the dancers in their own waltz. The room itself was a large dome, vibrating with the lure of the somber trumpets, and the story of the gentle flutes. Center of the scene was a great throned dias, on which sat a gentleman, who sat in front of a large piano, his fingers stroking the many keys in such a fashion as to lead the orchestra in a melody of sound.

Arya’s eyes went wide as she took in the world before her. It was beautiful, it was so beautiful and loud and wonderful. She couldn’t help herself as a few black tears fell down her face. The music, the lights, the atmosphere, the dancers with their dresses and suits- it was all so… all so blissful.

Her attention at last fell upon the dias, and the throne where a gentleman sat playing an instrument she thought was so elegant and alluring. She wanted nothing more then to dance as the dancers did, and play like the instruments played but most importantly she wanted to know who sat upon the throne and how he orchestrated the magic that flowed around her. So Arya found herself upon the dance floor, letting her body soak up the melody as she tried to mimic the dancers in their steps but even as she failed she did not grow unhappy but instead relished in the opportunity.

She at last made her way to the center and walked up the man and it was there she said, her voice like that of a blissful child, ”Hello!”

“Hello,” A grainy voice swirled around the pair as the song changed to the next dance, one of a higher tempo and quicker pace, the gentleman’s fingers nearly a dance of their own as they made work of the keys.

”This is beautiful, so, so beautiful.” she said aloud, looking around the room as the tempo changed.

The gentleman turned his head, revealing a wide cheshire smile, “I’m glad you like it,” the voice returned, despite the gentleman’s smile never opening.

His voice was unique, and that smile was anything but unnerving. It was pleasant, as a gentleman should be. Whatever that was. Suddenly, Arya remembered what she carried and looked down at the cards. An idea came to mind.

”Here you go!” she said and handed him the cards, ”I know it’s not much, but it’s the least I can do for letting me be here, to enjoy this.” she said softly.

A gentle laugh bounced between the two, and the gentleman took his fingers off of the piano. He pinched the cards between his index and thumb, accepting the gift. Took a quick moment to flip through the cards, the laugh bounced again, “A stack of questions? Why, thank you, young miss.”

With deft fingers, the gentleman slipped the cards into his jacket interior pocket, secured with a pat, “Shall I answer them for you?”

”Of course! But only if I ask the question.” she said playfully. ”Okay, Okay… What are two truths and a lie?” she inquired.

The voice hummed for a moment before answering, “The past can never be changed, yet a person is free to choose their own purpose, but a dream is just a dream.”

Arya hadn’t been expecting that answer. It was compelling and she wondered what what the lie could be. She thought about it for a moment before asking, ”This place is just a dream?” came her innocent voice.

“No, but it is a dream,” the gentleman answered.

”Hmm,” she said, ”Alright, how about this one? Where are you going?”

“Nowhere,” The gentleman maintained his smile.

She gave a small laugh, ”Clever, but obvious. Let’s try this one. What do you think of all this?” she asked.

“In the words of someone I hold very dear,” The gentleman started, “I like it.”

”Short and sweet.” she said quietly, a pang of longing echoing throughout her, quickly buried by the atmosphere. She rubbed her chin, thinking about what else to ask. Perhaps it was time to go outside of the cards? Yes, that was a good idea.
”What is your name?” she finally asked.

“K’nell,” The gentleman answered, his fingers settling back onto the keys.

”K’nell...K’nell…” she pronounced the name, ”Kalmar mentioned your name once I think. So that means your a god and this is your home...your sphere.” she let her voice drop to a whisper. Arya then sat down on the steps and looked up at K’nell.

”Can you teach me to dance, like the dresses and the suits, one day? I’d like that very much.” she said softly.

“If you want to learn, you will learn,” K’nell began to press his fingers down on the keys in melodic rhythm, “Just don’t forget to dream.”

”I don’t think I can. Forget, I mean. I think the words of the one you hold close describe my feelings best. I like it. I do.” And Arya listened to K’nell play and she watched the dancers dance and all was good. K’nell gave Arya a knowing look, and as the final song ended, her eyes opened.