They had done it. At long last, the raid of the syk pyres was completed and the Alma were free to collect the souls of the dead. Now there were but two matters remaining before it became time to address the consequences of this.

The first was unloading the vast haul of Soul Crystals they had liberated from the sky pyres. A rather arduous process, as the secluded entrance to the vault of souls did not have the most convenient loading bay for such a massive influx of souls. The great armor of Luis drifted empty above the entrance, to and from which a stream of alma and gusts flew. Up on its back the armor’s own curators began the long process of extracting the souls from the many armored tombs and then carried them outside to be collected and carried down to the vault’s own curators, who then took them down into the vault.

Acseal had also descended into the vault to see for herself the place where souls would be stored, while Luis had flown off to engage in some well earned R&R, which involved a bit of swimming and some exploration of the ecosystem Kalmar had created on and around the north of Kalgrun. The great whale was not entirely free from his responsibility however, as he ended up having to explain the broadcast to a bunch of orcas and narwhals he ended up hanging out with.

“What is fire and burning” was a pretty common one that took an awful long time to explain to the ocean dwellers.

This left Azura by herself as she planned how to protect the north. Defence wise she had already erected the walls of her fortress. A circular ring of mountains surrounded the massive vertical peak that sata above the vault, and atop this peak was the sky bastion, which acted both as a fortified keep and, hopefully, as a decoy for the vault. However, the walls sat unmanned and the gates of the castle unguarded. In that state they did not serve their purpose at all, as Ashala had so perfectly demonstrated all those years ago.

The Alma, empowered now with laser weaponry, where a good first step but they had a task that required them to go out into the world and would not make for an effective permanent garrison. She also had the Titan of Winds, but it alone could not guard the entire length of the wall.
She decided to start simply. The titan was an awesome beast, and it atmospheric control was a perfect tool for protecting a set location, so why not make more? Three shards of luft stone she plucked from the titan’s great form, and from these shards she grew three copies of the massive construct, capable of working in unison with their progenitor to command all the air in and around the tiny island.

“I together dub you the four winds,” She told them “may you stand firm against the forces of death and may your power sweep away all who dare come to the place with evil in their hearts!”

”It shall be so.” replied the 4 titans in perfect unison.

“Now sentinels, to your posts!” Azura commanded. As she instructed the titans moved apart, each drifting towards a tall mountain peak situated 90 degrees apart on the circular mountain. They touched down upon the mountain tops, crossed the massive cressend staff across their chests, and begin their watch. Their singular bright glowing eyes gazed out across the icy expanse that separated the twilight isle from the rest of the world, searching for intruders. To aid them Azura created a retinue of gusts to support each titan. These swarms of wind elementals would lay dormant, their solid stone parts piled atop their gemstone cores, until their Titan awoke their winds once more and called them to muster.

With watchers set atop the walls Azura ascended to the sky bastion. Like the sky pyres her own sphere was wrapped its way around galbar and had many entrances that lay open and unguarded. Should her emaines, whoever they might end up being, find their way inside the Blue they would have the ability to simply bypass the titan guarded walls. Taking some inspiration from the dragons found on the Foot she created sky serpents, massive beasts that where something of a cross between a snake and a mosasaurus, who drifted through the blue in the same way that Sky slugs and Luis did, borne aloft by on bones of luft-stone. With their jaws filed with serrated teeth they would tear apart those who invaded her skies. She also wanted to make it so they could also be summoned down from the blue to aid her wherever she or her companions might need aid. In-order to facilitate this she taught them a simplified form of the verse, the music she used to create, so that they could be commanded by it, either by her, Luis or the Alma. Perhaps, she thought, she could also teach this technique to others, like Asceal, or her children or even mortals?

She nodded to herself, and decided that that was a good plan. The Alma needed to be carefully controlled so that they stayed on mission, but the weapons and tools she made now? They could serve a wider purpose, to be shared with others to let them make her strength their own. Letting her delegate while also avoid hoarding all the divine power to herself.

The walls where manned, the skies patrolled. Azura felt a certain amount of relief over take her, that at long last there was no more that urgently needed to be done. Certainly there where tasks hse need to attend to, Karthos’s system needed a replacement and there were no doubt many other problems she could aid in solving if she went looking for them. But she decided she could afford to take a break after all she had been through, if only for a moment. As she watched the great sky serpents and the fluttering sky slugs an itch that she had been suppressing since she found out about the sky pyres forced itself to be noticed and demanded scratching. She wanted to create again, to craft and mold things into being to fulfil a purpose not directly related to solving the soul problem.

Energised, she tried making something for fun, spinning and weaving her power as she pulled pull inspiration from her muse, to create the perfect representation of her newly found creative freedom.

Power, magic, and music flowed together, creating a perfect symphony so beautiful it could make the most jaded listener cry until finally it made. It made!

A floating Tuna. no feather wings or frills or decorations of any kind. Just a tuna that gave zero shits about gravity.

“Glub” said the tuna, before swimming off into the Blue to go hunt sky slugs.

“Well then... That was silly. Let’s try again!”

And try again she did, to greater success. She made long necked fish-hunters, tusked manta rays that grazed upon the Blue’s now flourishing rain soaked greenery, a vicious little carrion eating trilobite and horse sized shark dragons that lurked in temples and around mountains. Then she stopped, not wanting to get quite so carried away with this. It had been an enjoyable creative outburst, but perhaps it would be best to use her power more productively. The last thing she did was dubb the Class of flying creatures ‘Tonnikala’, before descending back down to the twilight isle.

There Azura returned to the vault, checking that unleading was still going smoothly. They where, but it made her realise that there was one place left unguarded and that was the vault itself, along with the surrounding landscape. Aerial dominance might be incredibly useful, but she could perhaps do with some foot soldiers as well.

Taking into account what she had set into motion with the Tonnikala she decided that maybe she could make something that anyone could use if properly taught. And so she sang into being songs, and bound to the songs ideas, ideas of how to form Luftstone from air, to craft it into constructs and fill them with music. She knew that these creatures might be used against mortals who fought for her foes or simply wandered too close to the vault, and so she gave them the power to be able to affect their foe’s emotions to cause sadness, fear and terror with their touch or songs in order to drive away mortals without causing them harm.

To balance these negative emotions she taught them to invigorate their allies in order to lift their spirits and bring them hope and instill courage, determination and focus.

The first she made was a small one, a humanoid that was about half the height of a Selke. Most of its form was made of a blue light, the verse made into a semi solid mass that was given vague form by a heavier, semi metallic, black luft stone that, while its mass did not feel gravity as much as it should, was still pulling the creation down to the ground. Tendrils of blue verse formed its hand and legs, which were tipped with long claws. It’s face was a solid helmet/mask with holes that formed the impression of an eye hole. A long wispy tail of the verse flowed out from behind the helmet, fluttering in a non-existent breeze.

It stood before her in animated idleness, moving its body to the beat of an unheard song. She formed a small target dummy for it to practice on. The creature leapt at it, slashing at it and leaving deep gorge marks with its claws. Then it backed off, pointed its spread out fingers at the target and made them extend, wrapping the now tentacle like digits around the dummy and sending a pulse of emotional energy into it. Then it backed off and became idle again.

“Hmmm.” a gust of wind pushed the construct, causing it to stumble and its light to flicker erratically for a few moments “hmmm. Not very sturdy are you?”

She tried again, and this time formed an equally small one with a green body. It’s limbs were made of stone rather than light, and it held a small flute it its hands. This one danced around the dummy, playing an invigorating tune, before using the flute like a Blowgun to shoot a compressed wind shot at it that struck with the force of a punch. This one was also not particularly sturdy, though it was better than the last.

Purple next. It formed a body shaped like a suit of armor with only a few gaps visible where it’s verse was visible. It marched up to the dummy and struck it with sword it had inplace of a hand. It had a great deal of difficulty attempting to disable it nonlethal, eventually using its shield to pin it against a wall. It was much sturdier, but the cracks proved to be a vulnerability and it was slow to respond and less creative than the others.

Each construct was harder to form, and required a more complex song to form, to the point where Azura now had to use several of the green ones to assist in producing the finale. It was almost human in body structure, though it still had a mask in place of a face. Red Verse flowed out from behind it’s head and nowhere else. Unfortunately it seemed to be almost deaf and had difficulty performing complex actions until azura laid them out in detail. It performed exquisitely then, acting with the grace of a ballerina and speed of a martial artist as it used CQC to take down the dummy, but Azura had to sing loudly at it the whole time while spelling every action out in detail.

“ok. I think that is enough. A fully enclosed one would take far too much effort and be useless anyway.” Azura said finally. The first three all had their merits, the fourth she’d need to think about. Regardless, had what she needed

She then proceeded to make 5 armies of the blue, green and purple constructs. Some were ordered into the vault as guardians, where they would stay to subdue those who entered without permission and to raise the alarm and shoot to kill if this did not work. Others were sent to the walls, where the Titans could command them with their music playing bodies.

This left azura alone again, save for the red one.

“hmmm. I think I have an idea of what to do with you.” she told it, before plucking it from the earth and soaring back up to the sky bastion.

---

Ohannakeloi had arrived, most in an open pretty useless plain, but arrive he had. The Buajaoi had scrapped the topsoil out of its ways a good way while slowing down, he now stood on top of his craft as he prepared. Five would be good for the core group, they would each have a specific purpose that could be quite useful in the propagation of the mortal races and the proper Divine worship.

There would need to be one to protect the mortals, couldn’t have something eliminating all of them after all. It would need to be fairly selfless, but strong, ready to fight, but also able to reason. It would need to be capable of interacting with those it would protect, warning them of dangers or of threats beyond its capacity to handle. In fact, this would be very important, but it would be necessary to ensure that despite whatever linguistic difficulties they may encounter the message could still get through. Perhaps something akin to the mind-contact that gods are capable of would work, even if it could not be perfectly replicated. It would need to be made of good flexible Earth, strong and capable of stopping a danger but also capable of taking a hit itself.

In contrast, while one focused on protection, another was needed to ensure those threats were ended and that they did not overwhelm the protector. A slayer of the monsters, with the strength and fortitude of proper stone and a form built for combat. Intelligence and some communicative ability would be needed but they would be secondary characteristics at best. Perhaps a form like his own would work, but better suited for combating the threats found across Galbar on a mortal level. And it would need to be fully capable of combating these threats, it would not always be the strongest, the toughest, or the largest. But if it had a good set of base attributes and was smart, as well as whatever help Ohannakeloi could set up, it should be able to take down less focused creatures. It is always possible, especially with this, that it may draw the ire of another deity, but it was a risk he was willing to take.

And then another to be more personable than the other two would be, one to find out the stories and legends of mortal-kind without the awe of a deity crashing upon them. Not only to gain their stories, no to give them good trust and assistance, but worship also had to be demanded in compromise for assistance for such frail creatures, they were not as strong as deities and mortal-kind would need all the help it could get. So this one could give it to them, their protection was mostly covered by the earlier two, he would not be a fighter but tough and capable was indeed needed. A form that was perhaps malleable, changeable to the conditions presented, a shifter of forms. He could ensure that the stories of mortal-kind would not just be known and remember but that they would continue ever onwards in new legends and tales. A helper from the gods, from Ohannakeloi, paid in knowledge that could again help another or assist in the future by way of example.

A fourth, more physical helper. SImple, a very strong and tough form with enough versatility to be useful. Large as well to give the appropriate weight a consideration that this help should have. After all, Divine assistance to the wishes of mortal-kind should be properly considered and returned in the proper kind, worship. Tall, stable with some strong limbs and more for more delicate tasks, a creature of great size and ability that would be most productive.

At the fifth Ohannakeloi was unsure exactly if one was needed, the others seemed to fill very precise purposes well and he could not think of anything else. But that was it wasn’t it, he could not think of anything else. The fifth could be more independent, to find purposes for itself, to find a reason that it could be happy with and make a good imprint upon the world. A traveler to be sure, one that may have to cross great distances to find such a thing as a purpose. But the world was dangerous so to make them fully capable of defending themselves, but apart from the others. He had good form in mind, one that could live more organically than his other creations perhaps. But not entirely giving up the strength of the earth, metals perhaps, generally lighter and easier to work with than many stones in organic things, at least he would think.

Ohannakeloi ceased merely thinking and brought forth his thoughts to the reality before him.

The first a vast serpent, the protector, with scales of ceramic hardness and flesh as tough to destroy as good and proper clay, to not be rent asunder easily.

“Hiuocca, the Protector. I name you and give your purpose.”

The second a form similar to that of his own, a massive crab, with larger and more developed claws and a capable form to protect itself.

“Ohannamauoi, the Slayer. I name you and give your purpose.”

The third came indistinctly in shape, a mixing cloud of color but with a slowly forming purpose and form approaching that of something like the two that came before.

“Uhaccala, the Wisdom-Seeker. I name you and give your purpose.”

The fourth came as he had imagined, four massive legs suspended a grand body above, many tendrils waved at its sides for delicate works while near its head two powerful trunks swayed, ready for any labors it might commit itself to.

“Ihenonoi, the Worker. I name you and give your purpose.”

The fifth came as well, four legs supporting an armored, scaled body, flesh protected by metal scaling. Two wings stuck out on its back as its long tail and neck sprung from opposing ends. The head well scaled and protected, eyes focused forwards.

“Azukuao, the Wanderer. I name you a-”

That same fifth spoke out, “I really hate to interrupt here but are they supposed to be leaving already?”

“No, they’re not.”

It had seemed that the other four of his creations had decided to start off, in disparate directions already. He had to stop them here, they needed to listen to what he had to tell them.

Ohannakeloi raised him and the Buajaoi on a pillar of stone till he was near their eye level and spent his energies on his own form, they needed to hold him in proper respect. Ohannakeloi suddenly shown in a brilliant display of light, his shell seemingly gone from a muted yellow to a glimmering gold, the attention and awe of the five was not so subtly brought to Ohannakeloi.

“I am Ohannakeloi, your god but much more importantly your creator who has a few things to tell you, so get back here and pay attention!”

The four soon returned to their positions, an issue with giving your creations immediate purpose and knowledge is that they might be ready to act on it before you were ready for them to leave it would seem.

“Now, that is better. Each one of you has a purpose and task before you, all mortals and their worship of the gods is to be protected and nurtured. You have each other in these tasks ahead of you of course, but also you have the command of further creations.” Said creations began to take form on the grounds and skies around Ohannakeloi. On the ground large crabs almost identical to the god if not for their size and red coloration, in the skies furred winged creatures, massive bats, screeched and soared where none had been before.

“They have been made with your command in mind, they will obey such commands from you or any other with the appropriate levels of influence over them. They are not that intelligent but their numbers and dispersal shall make useful allies in your tasks. Those below are the Ahomauoi, they will grow as large as they are able, strong allies for work or against numerous threats and dangers. They may be territorial when not under appropriate control but they should be well adapted for natural environs. In the skies are the Iuoloai, consumers of fruits mostly, they grow large but not much bigger than you see here. Most notably they are masters of sound, capable in its hearing and projection. They have a most capable sonic weapon in addition to their strength and flying ability. Now you may leave.”

The Iuoloai and the Ahomauoi began to disperse, the later alone across the plains heading for greater areas of food while the former moved in small groups to the distant mountains and forests. Soon after the four began to leave, the fifth, Azukuao, spoke. “I am to wander? Is that all I am meant for?”

“Come with me, north to the coast, we will talk there.”

With a nod of her assent Azukuao and Ohannakeloi went north, he burrowed back into the Buajaoi while Azukuao flew with her wings. They passed the plains mountains of the center north to reach the coast, some groups of Iuoloai had begun to take up residence there.

As they landed she spoke, “What are you to tell me, dad?”

“Dad, hmm? Regardless, you are more independent than… your brothers. They are very happy and set in their purposes, at least I hope they will be. You, however, are special. I have said you have more independence, what I mean is I hope for you to find something worthy as one of my creations, for life on Galbar, and for yourself. You will find many things in traveling, wonderous and otherwise, but most important you should find something that you can be happy with doing, something that matters.”

“Why? Why me? Why am I different from the others?”

“The others while great are limited I fear, I needed others, I also couldn’t consciously make them unhappy in what they do but I fear they may not have much flexibility beyond that. I know that you are capable of great things. Here, I’ll give you something to keep you safe on your travels, I do not plan to force you but there is not much to do beyond see what is out there Azu.”

Azukuao thought as Ohannakeloi made a bracelet, drawing from metals in the ground a silver piece imbued with some energies to assist in the protection of the wearer, forming around her fore left leg. “Will I be able to come back?”

“Of course, anytime. I doubt you want to once you see the world more, the other gods have made quite a number of great works. And do stay in touch, pray often. I do have to go and attend to other projects but I can stay here till you’re ready to leave.”

Azukuao spoke softly, “Thank you.”

There they waited along the coast, watching the waves.

The first thing Split noticed was that there was light all around.

The second was that the ground she was lying on was not cold stone.

The third was that her axe was still firmly gripped in two of her hands. Thanks for that.

The kostral propped herself up on her forelimbs and looked around. The sky shone over a flat yellow expanse speckled with green, stretching as far as she could see. Sand, she thought. She moved a hand to lift herself better, and felt something scrape against her skin in a way sand did not. A handful of it came off the ground with less ease than she expected, clinging to it like an uprooted bush. It was much like a bush, she realised, or moss, with much longer, thinner straight strands. Smelled much like moss or a bush, too. Tasted- she bit off half a strand, gave it a brief chewing, swallowed. It was the faintest bit similar to the lichens she had once grown so sick of, though not different in a way that made it an appetising alternative. She tossed away the clump of plants and looked around again.

Yellow and green, up to where the ground touched the sky. Nothing broke the flatness of the land, except the mild sloping of some low hills not too far away. Split rose to her hind limbs, towering above the rustling grass, and looked further. Just a small dark spot off in the distance. No sign of Arya - she remembered to look directly above herself, but that did not help - or the ‘lope, nor of the way she could have come here from the tunnels. In her sleep, it struck her. How could that have gone again? She had kept going towards that light for what must have been days without getting any closer, sometimes being led down bends that should have made spotting it in the first place impossible. Nothing to eat except for the occasional patch of mould on the walls and the worms around it, though even the worms were a lucky find, and short naps where she found a side passage or opening in the rock. That was as it had gone last time; she had laid down after another day or two of walking, and then here she was.

The open sky and cool breeze made it hard to smell as she was used to, but by now she was sure Arya was not anywhere nearby. From how those tunnels worked, it was likely she was not anywhere not too far either. Maybe the other end of the world, for all she knew. Troubling as that thought was, Split did not think that staying underground would have made finding her any easier. All there was to do was hope that the girl had picked up enough to handle herself wherever she might have ended up, unless it was in- No, no use thinking that. Lurker or no lurker, it wasn’t likely anyway.

A pang in the stomach threw her sniffing off-course. How long had it been since she had even found mould? No one had kept track, but she was sure enough the answer was “way too long” anyway. She picked at the grass and snorted. That wouldn’t work. Having the jackalope around would have helped, but she was nowhere to be seen either. Hopefully she would not run into something else large and hungry.

Her head twitched as a vaguely familiar smell drifted by her. Earthy, warm scales. Her jaws tightened at the thought. It had to be just there, some way towards the dark blot in the distance. If she was quiet enough in getting closer… Yes, there. A short, slender body, like a large worm, edged its way through the stalks. Its brown-ringed yellow scales made it almost invisible among the grass and its smell was faint at best even close up, but she saw it perfectly, and her axe had no trouble finding it either.

Only after the creature’s bones had been picked clean did Split realise that a small meal would only dig the hole in her stomach deeper rather than filling it. An only slightly dulled pang was quick to confirm it. With a grunt, she lifted herself up and smelled the air again. No more moving things nearby, except some insects. There was, however, a new smell coming from where the spot of blackness winked over a gentle slope. The smell of a bush, though somehow warmer and richer. She was not sure what to make of that, but bushes usually meant things like rats and other small animals, and that would have been welcome. Dropping to four again, she was about to toss away the scaly thing’s emptied skin, but stopped mid-motion, running her eyes over it up close. Flexible, robust. Who knew, it could come in handy sometime. She wrapped and tied it around a wrist.

The black spot was a bit further than it seemed, but five legs went quickly. At a closer look, it was indeed made up of shrubs, or something very much like them. The resemblance would have been even closer if shrubs had been almost nothing but trunk, with branches unfolding high up like mushrooms, but that was close enough. There were actual shrubs, too, short and dry, though their yellow was more widely stained with the upper canopies’ almost bluish green. All of this was, however, forgotten as soon as a furry shape darted between one branch and another, and a black cloud rose from deep in Split’s belly to cover her eyes from the flurry of chopping, snatching and gnawing that followed.

It was not until her axe met something large, dense and snarling that she blinked her predatory instincts away and took a glance at what she was running into. Staring at her from the other end of the haft was an imposing bulk of dark fur, claws and teeth. Judging by its lean though towering body, the beast must have had gone hungry for some time as well, and her crashing through the undergrowth had been as clear a track for it as its smell had been for her. The kostral’s front eyes locked gazes with its animalistic leer. Whatever it might have been, it was clear that only one of them would eat their fill that day.

With surprising speed, the beast was first to act. Split narrowly dodged its swimping arms, diving under their crushing embrace, and jolted out of the way as it dropped its weight onto her. Balancing on three limbs, she grasped at its thick, matted fur for leverage and drove her axe into its flank as it turned about to face her, drawing out a pained roar. The claws came for her again, as the blade was still lodged into the shaggy hide, and she let go her grip of it to strike back against the paw with two hands. She did not expect the resistance to be so easily yielding, and almost fell forward into the slavering jaws, righting herself with a kick to its exposed nose. The creature’s maw still reeling backwards from the blow, Split fell back onto her rear limbs, only to gather up and vault over her opponent’s broad back, tearing her axe out with a tug and landing into a ready pose on its far side. When the beast’s jaws came for her in a frenzy of pain and fury, they were met with a blow that cleaved the skull behind them from side to side. The animal let out a final groan, briefly spasmed in the legs and collapsed.

Split sat for a moment catching her breath before leaning over the massive carcass. The beast might not have eaten well in a while, but it was still a good deal larger than her. Hungry though she was, it would take her a long time to eat it all, longer than it would stay fresh. Besides, she was not going to sit around here until she finished it, not while people back home kept eating lichen and falling down wells in search of metal, and she did not even know where she was. Maybe she could take out the best bits on the spot, then carry some more along somehow- Take out, that sounded right.

A push with three arms was enough to turn the hefty body over. Cutting it from the back would not work, she knew well enough. The belly was the way in. Her axe was not ideal for the job, long and unwieldy as it was, but it would do. She pulled the cut wider open, baring her teeth in what might have been a smirk at the familiar experience of clawing through something’s entrails. What were her last hatchlings up to now? It had been some years already, so they must have been… Her jaws snapped closed and her gaze darkened. At work, digging up stones with little better than other stones or hunting obsidian stalkers in the wastes. Maybe she gnashed her teeth and tightened her hands already dead. With a grim look, she hunched back over the gutted corpse.

Not long afterwards, her stomach was much better, glutted as it was on the most appetizing bits she had dug up in her summary dismemberment of her prey, and, though the mood was not as easily mended, slicing up the beast had been an oddly calming exercise, far from the euphoria of mating that she remembered. Split finished wrapping a bundle of strips of meat in a piece of hide and fastened it with a sharpened snapped bone. She sniffed and craned her head satisfiedly. To say that her trove was perfectly clean was too much, but she had done a good job in separating those morsels from the innards. Before, she had never stopped to consider if one piece would taste better than another, and she had taken Chops’ cutting up the rabbits as an oddity. But, as it turned out, sorting things helped a lot.

She would have to try this more often.

The kostral glanced up with an eye. The sky still shone brightly through the foliage overhead. No point in sitting around. Lost as she and almost everyone else she knew might have been, the only way to fix that was to go look around harder. She would figure out where she was, maybe find Arya somewhere sooner or later. And, someday, come back home with a way out.

Split slung the axe over her shoulder, gripped the meat bundle with her free forearm, and crept off into the shrubs. The world would not wait for her.

Hase stood among the monuments to the Divines, it was notable in a way how crude they were compared to the real thing yet at the same time so evocative of each. Near the mountains, which still raised so high, it was beautiful really. Not only was there plenty of stone for Ihokhetlani to build themselves of, but life flourished, even if they found themselves set a degree a part.

There was still a good number of Ihokhetlani here, probably more so than any single other group, and yet the race had dispersed so much. It was strange really when this used to be so occupied and now was so empty. The others that stayed with Hase, those who stayed by the monuments, were mostly priests. They helped Hase continue the Ihokhetlani here, some left with the new groups made here, others were trained into the priesthood and left the same. It was all for the best, to spread the Ihokhetlani far and wide across Atokhekwoi, and maybe Galbar itself. One day Hase may even go to see other parts unknown to him. For now there rest, and the beauty.

A presence walked among the monuments. The Ihokketlani could sense there was a soul nearby, but he could not know where. Hase could feel that something was there but what it was eluded sight, it was quite the conundrum, it could be a Divine sure or any other number of creations meant to be hidden from races such as the Ihokheltani. A clear solution was present, “I mean no disrespect, but I can tell you are here, but not who or what you are. Would you be so kind as to tell me?”

The presence remained obscured, but answered. Its silent voice emanating from one of the monuments, “I am the sovereign of insects, the god known as Parvus. I am here admiring your craft.”

“Thank you Great and Holy Parvus, it means a great deal that you admire such humble craft as ours. As always the priesthood remains devoted to serving the Divines, perhaps if there is something else that we could craft for you?” Hase spoke, turning to the monument in question.

There was momentary silence, but there was a response from the monument, ”Your devotion is admirable, but that is not what I desire.”

Hase immediately dropped to kneel, greatly facilitated by the flexibility of having both your legs composed of moving parts. Then replied, “I apologize for my presumption O Mighty One, and I do ask for your forgiveness. May I ask what it is that you desire from us lowly Ihokhetlani?”

”What I wish for the Ihokhetlani is what I wish from all mortals of Galbar. I wish for their prosperity, and for them to remain ever pious. In this moment, I would wish to give your people a gift. Would you accept it on your people's behalf?” the monument answered.

Hase bowed his head and spoke, “Yes O gracious and powerful Parvus, I would honored to accept a gift for my people from one of the Divines.”

The monument grew silent, but the voice replied echoing from behind the priest, “Look into the crevice of my monument. You will find tiny eggs. Have one of your own raise them. They will know how. Once they are mature, they will serve you well.”

“Thank you, O generous and puissant One. We will raise them and find them greatly beneficial in our service.” Hase faced towards the monument still, mulling over his next words. “I ask only out of ignorance Great Divinity, but I should know. How may we best worship you, and how may we act best to please in our daily actions?”

“If you are to pray to me, it should be done privately. You should remember my gifts, and always be thankful. You should respect my name, and should extend that respect to those who serve it. Finally, I ask that those who tend to these eggs be faithful to me, and me first, though they should pay the proper respect to the other gods. So long as my congregation thrives, my blessing will be with the Ihokhetlani people.”, the voice replied.

“I will spread your words as far as I can be heard, if you will it, it shall be done. Wise Parvus, we will serve as best as we are able.” Hase faced once more towards the last place he had heard the voice and prostrated himself, hopefully before the divinity to which he spoke.

“It shall be done.” the voice replied, in the direction he was facing, before the presence faded away.

As he felt the presence leave, Hase rose and spoke out to the priests who had stayed so silent at a respectful distance during the encounter. “Any of you who have the knowledge or to take it upon you are to care for these eggs in this monument here, you are now of the Cult of Parvus, to put him first but not forget the other Divinities. Pray to him alone, and for individual concerns, as the Divine wills it.”

Only time would tell what exactly those eggs would be, some of the priests were moving to the monument and they would be the first of the Parvus Cult here. That too would begin to spread, either with new Ihokhetlani or speaking with others as they came and went.

Chopstick Eyes lazed in her underwear on an enormous frond of kelp, black glasses resting ever so gently on the tips of her chopsticks, about five inches away from her face. She snapped her fingers and a waterproof glove arrived, bearing yet another coconut shell with little bamboo straw. She took a long sip ('Ahh...') stretched out on the frond, and said, "So."

The various gloves awaited. One of them took out a notepad.

"You may ask yourself, 'how did this exactly happen?' You may be wondering why your life sucks, and mine is god damn peachy. And you should keep wondering that. 'Cos I'm not gonna tell ya. And that makes me feel grand."

The gloves shuffled awkwardly. Chopstick took another long, lavish sip, then threw the husk into the ocean. The sun glittered hotly on the surface of the waters.

"Psyche. Here we go."

---

Chopstick bounded over the Saluran Mendidih with divine alacrity, the great lava lamps dipping ever so slightly down on their stalks as she landed upon them, one by one. She'd taken care to pick one of the narrower points of the strait this time, and the journey was exceptionally fast by her standards. One could see each continent from the opposite shore, perhaps, if one had eyes that functioned as biconvex lenses and not omniscient antennae.

Unfortunately, the narrower parts of the strait were not directly adjacent to the Feasting Forest, and she had some walking to do. Pāṟa was still as densely vegetated as it had been when she'd left- perhaps more so, as the trees and ferns better-adapted to its rainy heat had begun to force their cousins into the mountains. But it wasn't lively. But for some neighbourly worms, there was not a living soul, not even a Gemstone Gardener. All the parrots, it seemed, had finished their work.

You don't know who you miss 'til they're gone, thought Chopstick, hugging herself in the eerie silence. The place needed new life.

Fortunately, she had just the thing.

Plucking a desert-horse from her pocket (it was a deep pocket), Chopstick Eyes clonked it on the head with a rock and set to work changing it somewhat. It wasn't particularly difficult labour. For all its special properties, the desert-horse was a rather simple construct, with plenty of room for change still written into the contract it had signed to exist. As the sole issuer of that contract, Chopstick had every right to request some subtle changes.

First she made it smaller, much smaller, in order to fit between the tight trees and shrubs of a tropical forest. Then she altered its coat, leaving it darker, shorter, sleek and somewhat spotty, with a tendency to green up with some of the local algae. Some tweaks to its muscles made it substantially more agile. When she let it go, the tropical camel darted happily into the ferns, looking like it had always belonged.

Chopstick dusted off her hands and continued on her merry way until she came across the mountainous regions of Pāṟa. Despite the latitude, this region was rather dry, and less alpine than it was scattered with great plateaus. Chopstick reached into her pocket for another desert-horse, and realised that she'd forgotten to bring spares.

God damn it.

She reverse-engineered a desert-horse from a forest-horse and called it a day.

---

There was competition among the gardener's trees as to which species would best tolerate the soil and climate of the Kick, but these plants were playing a fool's game. The woods of the Feasting Forest were thriving. Chopstick reached the edge of the forest much earlier than she had expected to do so, in a place she had never planted. The fog had spread along with the shrines, all on their own.

But the trees had had some help. Not all the gardeners had left.

Chopstick mistook it for an Emerald Kea at first. It was a good guess. But there was something more to it, some deformity, some mixture. Perhaps a hybrid. It leaned in, oh so slowly, and leered at her, and she looked at it.

"And who are you, little bird?"

In a wavering voice, one little practised in the sound-eating mist, the gardener replied:

Olivine, and a Kakapo
I dig and plant, and prune and hoe
In this place where no winds blow
But I will stay, if others go.

Chopstick ran her hand over the Olivine Kakapo's feathers and saw that it was wingless, or nearly so. Perhaps flight had done it little good over the years, or perhaps it had been born that way, and so forced to remain here.

"Do you have sisters? And who taught you not to eat from the shrines?"

A lantern ancient, from its tomb
Did speak, and save us from our doom.
Now we are many, green of plume-
Walking quiet through the gloom.

Chopstick blinked for a moment. None of the stone and clay lanterns she had left here would ever be so helpful. It took her a second to recall the single, ancient paper-lantern that she had left here years ago. She wondered where it was.

"Well, I like your style," she said. "Come with me."

The kakapo hesitated, then said,

I dream of something, now and then
Don't ask me why, or how or when-
But if you bear me from this fen
Then I would like to fly again.

"Done," said Chopstick Eyes.

---

"So we had a bit of a fly-around and eventually went back home. First I wrote my clone and asked her for her kite, though, but she said nah, get your own, I need it to get off this island, and also sorry for spending all your money. Pretty rude, right? It's not like it's hard to get off an island, I've crossed a boiling sea like twice so far.

"And then I was like, hey, fuck you, have you at least sorted out that problem with the superb slippery soul serpent yet? And she said no, but kinda, it'll be okay for a while, and I said, okay, whatever, I'll check in on it, also at least send me the Michael's Wand of Loudspaken, you're not exactly using it for shit. So she did. And I made a big announcement inviting anyone to come have a tea party with me in the Feasting Forest... Actually, I might've forgotten that bit. Ahem.

"Yo, anyone want to have a big tea party with me in my forest full of food? It's really fun! Great company, great times, all on me. One-time special offer, don't miss out!"

"...Anyway, so then I came back here to feed the serpent, and eh, I guess it's doing okay for something that looks like the grime on a radiator fan. But I figure it was cutting it a little thin, so I made this!"

Chopstick Eyes gestured out.

All around her was kelp and sargassum, golden in the sunlight. Sitting in the gyre that centered on the Alpha Serpent, no current disturbed them, and a dense mat had formed, stretching out in every direction for miles. There was animal life, too, all made to fit in. Mostly they were adapted from pelagic fish, or their larvae, seeking shelter. No megalodons or whales, but plenty of leopard sharks and porpoises; no colossal squid, but quite a lot of little tiny adorable squid. Most abundant were formerly planktonic crustaceans, which had not shrunk but grown. Amphipods and tiny crabs skittered and darted everywhere, even on the surface of the water, clustering together on the airy blisters of seaweed.

Her divine ears could still hear the song of the Serpent far below. Sooner or later, when its time came, everything in this forest would, too.

"Pretty nice, hey, Liv?"

The olivine kakapo creaked its warbly song from on top of the parasol floating beside her.

The gloves looked at each other and motioned quizzically.

"...What?"

One of the gloves pointed directly upwards.

"We don't fucking talk about that," Chopstick snapped, and turned over to tan her back.

---

Earlier.

"Enjoying the view?"

The pyres were bright as lit candles in the distance, and their smoke formed elegant nebulae in the dark. The kakapo, now Liv, gazed about them in worshipful terror.

Too long, my lady, have I been blind
The world is not so grim, I find.
But something prickles in my mind
Now that we've left the air behind.

"Don't be silly, I'm a god," said Chopstick, nodding awake. This darkness was soothing. It was hard not to sleep. "I have air for both of us. And this kite doesn't even need wind! It's sun-powered, don't you see?"

And that is what bothers me, answered Liv with perfect timing.

"Don't be like that. It's an empty plane, there's nothing and no one that could bother us here. And I'm sure we can trust..." Chopstick remembered that the deal by which she had acquired the strange kite had not included any kind of receipt. "...Whoever made this thing. Hang on." She pulled herself up by the curious cord that attached them to the kite. It wriggled slightly in her hands.

The kite was alive, no doubt. It flew in the shadow of Galbar, riding the dawn and dusk at the edge of the planet's shadow to gain energy and elevation, before falling gently and slowly into the night-side zone where the beam from Heliopolis was blocked. Then it would repeat the cycle.

In the dark periods, where they were now, the kite had some ability to move itself, ejecting the light it had previously absorbed. It was a colourful process, but it only illuminated parts of the creature. Most of it was invisible in such blackness. Chopstick fumbled around the base of the tail, looking for a label, and found none.

It had to be hidden somewhere, though. The kite was vast, at least a hundred meters in radius, and fractally assembled in three... ish dimensions. If it had organs, they were minimal. But it did have some kind of circulatory and sensory system, spread out like the tributaries of a river with its mouth in the center. Somewhere in those myriad folds and fins, there would have to be something.

Chopstick Eyes prodded a luminous node and Liv shrieked. She was torn out of her doze, and noticed the invisible net folding around her only after it had begun to spring.

Narzhak's cleaver emerged from somewhere and cut in a wide circle, cut at the nothing, and perhaps the nothing recoiled- she couldn't tell. All the lights had gone dark, and the inside of her head was meshed in exhaustion. She heaved her chopstick eyes into focus and saw the fractal unfolding, bringing arms upon arms of dark flesh into the night.

"Liv!"

The bird clutched her arm tightly, and she leapt from the center of the kite, tearing past its arms, down towards Galbar- and into more arms.

Fear pulsed through Chopstick Eyes faster than her mind could follow. It was her body that responded. Great spikes shot from her, wooden stakes that ripped from her arms and her back and spun end over end into whatever had caught her. The ends of knives jutted from her face, and the ring on her finger burned with grim power.

Torn and stung, the Dusk Kite receded into the void. Its propulsive lights flashed, and a single pulse illuminated its veins, starting from the center. Then it was gone, invisible once more.

Liv trembled like a leaf and Chopstick trembled with her as they fell back down towards Galbar. Chopstick Eyes raised her hands to feel the cuts where razors had grown from her skull. Something ugly had burst, some wall she had been weakening had finally broken, and could not be repaired. There were more dangerous things inside her, it seemed, than dreams.

She slept.

Iridescent bodies swarmed about the island with the Gateway to Sanvadam in an unprecedented feeding frenzy. The Zhengwu had been atomised in the explosion, and the divine remains of Vakk had been dispersed across the sea for many kilometers. Iron Carrionfish converged on the island from as far as the scent had carried, ravenously feasting upon the shreds of godflesh and droplets of ichor. Never before had the entire body of a god been presented to these beasts to consume, and there was a good chance it would never happen again. The Carrionfish grew with every morsel consumed, and already their numbers were multiplying. This was in spite of occasional predation by Incorporeal Echoes.

There was one with smell even more keen than the Iron Carrionfish. Squalls rippled across the surface of the ocean, dragging clouds with them which cast shadows over the island and heralding her approach. Then near the island rose a mass of water, the manifestation of Ashalla. Her dreadful gaze scanned the ocean and the island. She could taste Vakk's remains throughout the water surrounding this island, and it would have made her gag had she possessed such a reflex. "So that was K'nell's 'holy cargo'," Ashalla muttered to herself with a voice like the churning sea. Her gaze inspected the crater which had once been the Zhengwu and another squall manifested to fly around the island. "How careless."

At least the Iron Carrionfish were able to clean up the mess, otherwise such a major spill of divine waste could have been catastrophic. But their progress was hindered slightly by the Incorporeal Echoes which still lurked about the island. Even now, a swarm of shadowy forms had sensed Ashalla's vast soul and was coming towards her. Ashalla was not in the mood to tolerate their presence.

"Insolent spirits!" Ashalla cried in a voice of thunder, and her eyes burned white. The clouds above broiled, and with a flash lightning arced down and pierced through the shadows. The first bolt had hardly faded when a second struck, and a third. Lightning fell like rain upon the Incorporeal Echoes, until all that was left was the smell of ozone.

Ashalla rolled up the beach and inspected the crater more closely. One taste was enough to identify orvium oxide, indicating that this explosion had been caused by orvium. She wasn't sure where the Zhengwu had obtained that metallic orvium, although Para was one possibility as that had some native orvium. That didn't really matter.

Inspecting the land around the island was more enlightening. The sandy remains and empty clothes of sixteen servants littered the island, clearly having been slain by the Echoes in a one-sided battle. She also saw marks on the stone which appeared to have been wrought by some destructive form of magic she was unfamiliar with, but which caused similar damage to the centre of the orvium explosion. Likely caused by that Orvus-kin, Arya, who had been on the ship with them, and would have attempted to defend herself and possibly the others in this battle. The absence of her body or even the slightest drop of anything which tasted of her suggested that Arya had survived.

There was still the question as to why someone had detonated the orvium on board the Zhengwu. She could only guess why. Maybe they did not want the cargo falling into the hands of the Echoes, not knowing the nature of the cargo and the environmental damage blowing it up would have caused. Maybe it was a desperate attempt to kill some of the Echoes. Regardless, the folly and futility of such a move demonstrated to Ashalla the unreliability of mortals. She would have to be cautious about trusting them to undertake important tasks for her.

Ashalla flowed inland towards the gateway to check that the Box of Orchestration was still where she had left it. Finding it undisturbed, Ashalla propped it open with a little pseudopod and listened to its melancholy melodies for a little time. The tune seemed fitting for such a sombre occasion.

"It's a shame. Qiang Yi was a good poet," Ashalla said in a voice like a distant wave. Indeed, all of the crew of the Zhengwu had been worshippers of her. It would not do to grow attached to individual mortals, though, as their life was as brief as a raindrop. She would need to make larger groups of worshippers who would not be so easily destroyed by a misplaced tragedy.

Eventually, she closed the lid of the Box and flowed back out to sea. The Iron Carrionfish were continuing the task of consuming every last piece of Vakk's body and cleansing the sea of this mistake. Before she departed, though, she turned her head northwards towards Tendlepog. "K'nell, if you plan to ship hazardous waste across my oceans, let me know beforehand." Then she slipped beneath the waves and was gone.

Sobering up after a bout of drinking, however monumental, had never been much trouble. Narzhak’s immense girth alone made getting noticeably drunken a gargantuan task in its own right; adding to this the fact that no sort of impurity, no matter whether it had been anywhere else before, seemed able to remain inside his body for long without seeping out in some way or another, one could have sworn that his constitution had been designed especially for that sort of pastime. Thus, it was after no more than a brief walk to the nameless river of murk and blood that ran through the Steppes that his head was back to being as impervious to loud noises, apelike or otherwise, as it had ever been, hundreds (if not more) of drained wine barrels notwithstanding.

The god shook off the last of the needling fumes from his iron skull and tore his gaze away from the soothing if macabre patterns of the ichor-tainted flow. Flaming eyes swept over the plains, between the cliffs walling them off at either side and over wide flatlands, empty beyond the occasional rooting beast. Shengshi did have a point - even setting aside a space like dozens of mountain ridges, there would be room for more than one good harvest here. Worth keeping in mind. Amusing as it was when inferior beings ate each other, leaving them nothing else to subsist on was not going to help anyone given a couple of centuries.

A more pressing thought for now, however, was seeing whether he remembered the distilling part right, despite the wine and unexpected birth that had followed the explanation. The journey from the river to the Scar was spent trying to reconstruct the steps into something at least distantly resembling their proper sequence. Boil, seal, ferment... no, that could not be right; it went seal, ferment, then boil? He was sure he was missing something again, a suspicion which did not leave him even as he climbed into the fissure and let go of its edge, stepping onto the warm rock below. What he saw there, however, made him immediately forget the succession he had just so carefully assembled.

The kostral were not at work as he had left them. This alone was enough for his four eyes to dart each in a different direction, prying into every visible opening for signs of disorder. The situation was really not as dire as it looked at first glance, with only a comparatively small part lobbing stones out of their cavern mouths, but it was bad enough that something had disrupted the order of things at all. Even worse was that this something was brazen enough not to stop when he had walked in. Why were there birds in the Pit? They usually knew well enough to avoid the Scar altogether. Yet here they were, offensively glimmering, somehow weaving between the fiery clouds and grasping tentacles of the sky-dwellers and eluding the improvised projectiles that rained on them from the walls. And- speaking?

Narzhak rumbled and clapped his hands together with the force of thousands of enormous gongs struck all at once. In a blink, stones stopped flying as the kostral scrambled back to their usual haunts. The birds, wise enough not to follow them into narrow, cramped spaces, remained hovering about the openings. Some converged around the god, and their speech, now evidently repeated time and again, keenly reminded him of what it was like to have a still-hazy head. Did Azura really sound like that? For the little he knew of her, he had never considered her much of an annoyance, but she seemed determined to make him rethink that view.

The irate squint of his eyes only grew thinner as the opening words of the address played out. Souls, death, what did any of this have to do with him? What happened to things once they had served their purpose in the world had never been any of his business, and why she would say these things to mortals was simply beyond him.

The further the speech went, however, the wider he stared, until at the end he could no longer hold back a thunderous, ground-shaking laugh. ”Consent? Autonomy? She’s begging?! Damn to the void, she’s serious about this!” He slapped himself over his ironclad stomach, the rock under him buckling and cracking under the quakes of his mirth. The cackles did not stop even when a colossal hand shot out and closed around a few alma, reducing them to a smear of invisible dust, nor when great metallic spikes shot out like darts to crush and splinter the rest. His finger still quivered as he brought the last, most elusive one before the barren waste that was his visage, locked in place with hooked and pincered chains.

”Listen up,” he growled, suppressing the last traces of laughter. His eyes blazed up for a moment, and the creature’s crystalline parts were enkindled with a lurid glow to mirror them, ”I don’t know what score you’ve got with Katharsos, and I don’t care how you settle it -” his speech had by then firmly become a menacing snarl, ”- as long as you don’t stick your beak into my work. Come into my home uncalled to distract my servants, and crying over some burning soul’s going to be the least of your worries. Keep your squabbles over death out of here. You won’t find any will to freedom, only-”

The metal of his visor became a hungry mire, and the minuscule construct was dragged beneath it as the dark pearl had been before. Faint praise though it might have been, the taste was nowhere near as atrocious this time. ”I hope I’ve made myself clear.” It was uncertain that what remained of the alma could still relay his words, but Narzhak hated leaving something unfinished.

Clawed fingers pensively rubbed together with a strident creak. There could be no assurance that Azura would listen, or even, now that he thought of it, that she would be the only one to try and bring some useless inanity to his domain. If she had made an attempt of that sort at all, it meant she was expecting to find at least some sympathetic ears, and if they all flew like her and these odd glowing birds, the air over the Pit as it was now, perilous as it might have been to any other intruder, would not do. Nor would the kostral simply throwing whatever was at hand. Even without this, they would have to deal with foes outside their reach sooner or later, and weapons that would supply for that were still a long way beyond their grasp. At best, he could provide to both at once…

A loud rattle from his gauntlet drew thousands of quartets of eyes, with the occasional blind stain of metal, staring out of their tunnels. They died quickly, but more of them sprang up quicker yet, just as designed. Never a moment without a safe surplus for cases like these.

The Iron God snatched a nearby wandering ash-storm into his hand, tightened it into a bundle and spat some of the unrecognisable remains of the swallowed alma into it. As the roiling cloud in his palm began to pulsate and shimmer, he breathed rapacity into it, then snapped his fingers closed with a crack, sending uncountable specks flying in all directions. Each was certain to find its mark.

The watching thousands began to shudder and swell as the ash reached them, piercing their hide and warping their forms. Bones lengthened into serpentine spines and wide, sturdy ribcages, limbs stretching beyond their natural shape and snapping into angles they could never have supported. Skin was torn and rewoven into smooth membranes, even as it was dislodged by the sudden burst of sickly bulbous growths along the entire body. Arms were pushed close together like the legs of insects, and heads grew new sharp, smooth predatory countenances.

”Skestral,” the god spoke, and as one a legion of raucous hissing breaths sounded around him. One after another, the things that had been kostral spread their leathery wings and took flight, borne on tumorous protrusions filled with foul-smelling air. They sped from corner to corner, unhindered by their apparent bulk, as their grounded kin began to peer out in awe. Many did little but pass between cavern and cavern, stretching their new-formed muscles. Some vanished in the perpetual smoke overhead, probing the way for patrols and hunts. A few more yet dove towards the stretch of high ground where lay the path to the world above, and just so they were gone.

Narzhak had an eye for every path, following the flight of each for a few moments with an appreciative look, all while the fourth stayed over his open hand. Some ashen dregs were still restlessly crawling around the palm, the light, but not the motion entirely squeezed from them. This was not enough for another batch, but throwing it away would have been senseless. There must have been something it would be good for. It moved, stirred… What did that speech say about sleep?

It was strange, it occurred to him, that Azura, whose very creatures were so restless even when pulverised, would want to put things to sleep for who knew how long. A somewhat less amusing thought following in that one’s trail was that, if she did have her way, half the world would have been slumbering sooner or later. Absurd, but if it really happened? Things would get much harder for everyone for no good reason. The least he could do now was ensure that, if Galbar became too quiet, he would not be caught unprepared.

A sliver of molten rock from a nearby floating sphere, and the ash began to churn and harden into something solid. He breathed wrath into it, then more, and more still. The quivering mass of orange-veined grey bloated into something that was neither quite worm, nor quite boar, nor quite squid. Its many limbs thrashed and grasped along its elongated body, unable to release the fury that filled them in any meaningful way other than to tear into themselves. It gouged uneven gaps into itself, and teeth grew to make them mouths. As soon as it could, it howled, and Narzhak was barely fast enough to cut it off after its first tones; it was still enough for some kostral to leap upon each other in a murderous frenzy, and a few skestral to tangle with the drifters among the clouds. And still it grew in size and anger, until even the hand underneath it began to feel its weight. The chains around its limbs and edges became thicker, the muzzles around its mouths wider, until both maker and creation were out of breath.

The two contemplated each other as they recouped. The Iron God found himself forced to admit he had gone a little beyond the pale this once. Left unchecked, the thing would not only wake up a world of sleepers, but wreak havoc on anything it came across, the Pit included. At the same time, he doubted that keeping it bound would have been much of a solution. Chains would stop its excesses until needed, but without motion to stoke it, the anger that made it so useful would eventually die out, maybe before even there was a chance to see it at work even once. Besides, with how it still struggled, those chains might not hold long enough, either. Not on the body, at least.

He tapped his fingers together. If not chains on the body, whatever the thing had for a mind could not be much harder to tie together. Chains of the mind, clouds of the mind…

His eye fell on the cauldron still fastened to the edge of a thumb. Of course. If the head took the worst of the drinking, something that did not have one at all would get the blow all over. And a strong one as long as the liquor kept flowing, without need for a single link.

How did it go again? Ferment, boil, seal?

---

”Urhu,” a voice spoke from behind.

Turning around, Urhu would see a blond-haired man with a thick moustache and a serious expression, clad in animal pelts. There was a wary look in his eye, and his arms were crossed. ”What brings you here?”

”Ah, this is truly the first time we have met, brother.” she smiled. ”I don’t go to places for reasons, I just go, much like the wind.”

Kalmar uncrossed his arms, but the wary look did not leave his gaze. ”And what do you do when you go to these places?”

”I see what happens there, what I can find in it, if there is anything novel or curious… Until I eventually get bored of it all and move to the next one.”

Kalmar nodded, but did not truly seem satisfied by her answer. ”So what did you do to my griffins?” he asked.

”I liked them, so I gave them a few gifts, nothing out of this world, it's just that these are hostile times and I would be saddened if such noble creatures were wiped out due to some godly whim, so I made sure they can spread far into the world and are resistance to the influence of others.”

Kalmar nodded, and looked at a griffin soaring away in the distant sky. ”I see. Sorry for my hostility. The last god who gave my creations ‘gifts’ turned them into cannibals and kinslayers.”

Urhu rose an eyebrow, and then nodded slowly. ”And that is why I made them resistant to this sort of stuff, I guess? Didn’t knew that happened, but, ah, I guess I noticed the pattern.” she laughed softly.

”So what you do… you just wander around and give gifts to things that interest you?” Kalmar questioned.

”Sometimes I don’t give gifts. Though yeah, I would say you are awfully correct.” she fixed her posture, standing in a more serious manner. ”There is a lot you can miss if you just look up from the position of an almighty god. I know there is a lot I don’t know, I can’t help but to wonder what some of our siblings with awful cases of tunnel vision even perceive, no wonder to them it's easy to cause widespread destruction.”

Kalmar nodded and looked back to her. The griffin had disappeared over the horizon. ”I’ve been meaning to do more travelling myself, but there are always more pressing issues to distract me,” he confided.

”Hmm… Eventually you just learn to deal with you issues on the go, though it helps to have some travel method that allows you to bring most of your things with you. I have a ship and it makes everything quite simple for me.” she then remembered something important. ”Your realm is just by the side of mine, isn’t that correct?”

”The Hunting Grounds?” Kalmar asked. ”I noticed there was another realm next to it when I built it, but at the time it was empty. Was that yours?”

”Oh, you did it quite early huh? Yes, The Purlieu, it makes sense why they are so close, very similar locations.” she then looked around, trying to look casual as she tried to get the information which she wanted. ”Say, as the goddess of passages, I am quite good at find ways to go certain places, which makes me wonder if you just did an incredible job at hiding the path to your realm or if there just isn’t any outside of the Purlieu’s connection. Not to pry on your personal matters anyway, I just want to know if I should be impressed… or worried.”

”There isn’t a path,” Kalmar confirmed with some reluctance. ”I’ve been meaning to build one, but after I built my sphere all my effort has been spent on Galbar.”

”Oh that is dangerous. Lots of mean things down in the chthonic realms. And if your realm gets taken over by some other god while you are away, well, not only its trouble at mine’s door, but it could seriously mess up the natural world.” she shook her head. ”That just won’t do.”

”It won’t,” Kalmar agreed. ”Which is why I intend to resolve it soon. I have already planned out what form this gateway will take and how it will function.”

Urhu grunted, a brooding look on her face. ”You know, I don’t have anything to do right now, want some help with this stuff?

Kalmar nodded again. ”I could use some help,” he agreed. ”What do you want in return?”

”Stability, I guess?” she said, pondering about what could be a reward. ”My main worry is my neighbour realm being easy target for takeovers, now, for extra rewards, well, I don’t know, typically I just let people gift me what they feel like gifting me. I don’t like asking for things unless I truly want them.”

”If you do this for me, I won’t mind doing something in return. Within reason, of course. But we can work that out in the future.” Kalmar told her. ”As for my gateway, I intend for it to be mobile. It will attach itself to a random animal on the continent. When that creature is killed, the gateway will appear near its body for a short amount of time, and then move on to another animal elsewhere. I should always be able to know where this gateway is, and the creatures it attaches itself to should have some noticeable change to indicate that - glowing eyes, or unusually coloured fur.” The Hunter shrugged. ”Is that possible?”

”Hmm. My gateway takes the form of mist, it also travels, though it doesn’t quite warp. I guess, I could do the same as I did before, but condense the mist into a thick ink or… something of the sort, that gets attached to the animal, when the animal dies, it turns into a portal then disperses, traveling again to find a new host.” she rubbed her chin, that was the most effortless way she could see to approach the issue while still providing what Kalmar had asked.

”That could work,” Kalmar said, thinking. ”Another thing - it should function differently for gods. Many of them don’t have the stomach for hunting, which will be an obstacle if I need them to come to my sphere. And there’s already no doubt that they would be capable of killing a common animal anyway. So if a god touches the animal, that should be enough to transport them, and them alone, but it won’t open a portal.”

Urhu looked up for a moment, scratching the side of her head. ”Uh, hmm. I guess that can be done. Don’t you want to make it exclusive to your command though, as in, its less of touching to open the portal and more off… touching to knock on the door?”

Kalmar nodded. ”You know more about gateways than I. If it can be done, that would be best.”

”Yeah, its not an issue, if anything, its easier to make it react to you than to make it react to any god.” which was in truth her main worry when it came to this, not so much the security issues, but that she knew better how to perform the task.

”So when do we start?”

The goddess smirked and rose her hand, with ease, she brought forward mist from the water held in the soil and plants, before condensing it on a gooey watery orb and casually throwing it to Kalmar. ”Start? I am already finished. Just need you to finish the link by allowing it to reach for your realm.”

Kalmar caught it with one hand and then studied it, focusing. He felt some sort of connection form, and then it dissipated into the wind. Even as it vanished from sight, he knew where the energy was and where it was going - into its first host.

It seemed somewhat unfair, that an animal arbitrarily be marked for death by any who wished to enter his sphere. But hunting itself was arbitrary in a sense. No animal chose to be pursued by predators; that happened through misfortune. And a hunter will kill and eat whatever they can; whether or not they find anything can sometimes be based on luck as much as skill. Besides, it would only be fitting if, in order to enter his sphere, a creature must demonstrate some aptitude for hunting.

”Thank you.” Kalmar said, and then after a moment he added: “The gateway already found its host. I’ll need to make sure it works. It isn’t far. Do you want to come?”

She gave the god a sincere smile, unlike the typical smirk. ”Sounds interesting, who would miss a chance to see the god of the hunt go out hunting, after all?”

Kalmar offered a thin smile of his own. ”It might not be as interesting as you think; there’s not much that can challenge me.” He removed the bow from his shoulder and cast his gaze eastward. ”It’s that way,” he announced, before setting off.

Urhu silently followed him, hunting was not her innate affinity, though being a goddess of frontiers and travel the act itself came naturally to her, even though today she was not hunting but just following Kalmar in his path.

They continued on for some time, Kalmar remaining equally quiet. Occasionally he would stop and kneel to glance down at some tracks or disturbed foliage, only to shake his head and declare that it led in the wrong direction. Then, finally, they came across a large set of pawprints. ”It’s nearby, and these head in the right direction. Looks like a direwolf.”

Without awaiting a response he advanced forward, until he saw what was quite possibly the largest direwolf he had ever seen. It was as tall as he was, feasting on a freshly killed deer. It glanced up from its meal and glared at him, revealing glowing blue eyes, and bared its teeth. Kalmar glared back, and the beast began to growl.

Suddenly, the Hunter dropped his bow and began running forward. The wolf abandoned its meal and began a counter-charge. In the last few feet it leapt, intending to land on him and pin him down beneath its weight, but with the reflexes and speed of a god Kalmar was able to simply step aside. The beast landed, thundering past him, only for Kalmar to grab it by the tail and force it to a stop. It yelped, and Kalmar leapt onto its back, edging toward the head. It flipped onto its side and began to roll, pressing Kalmar through the grass, leaves, and mud, as it attempted to dislodge the hunter from its back.

Then it suddenly tensed, and stopped. Kalmar’s hand was gripped around a hilt of some sort, which had appeared as if from nowhere, and was now embedded in the creature’s eye. Kalmar pulled the bloodstained knife free and pushed the beast off of him. As Kalmar rose to his feet to brush himself off, a shimmering blue portal appeared in the air above the wolf’s corpse. The Hunter extended his arm, and his bow flew through the air, returning to his hand.

”Its noble that you gave it some chance to fight, instead of just abusing your godly powers, though the result was obvious from the start. I do that sometimes as well, otherwise life as a god becomes insufferable.” she said, approaching the animal before turning towards the god. ”Well, it works. I can tell it does and that the portal leads to your home.”

”There used to be more of a thrill to it,” Kalmar admitted as he knelt beside the wolf. He stuck the knife under the animal’s fur, and with quick precision began the process of skinning it. ”Before I was a god, I mean. There was a challenge. Now… if I want to fight a creature whose power equals my own, the result could shatter continents, and that...”

He didn’t finish the sentence. Instead, he peeled away a rectangular section of fur and focused on it. The blood vanished and the skin dried. Then he shaped it into a new cloak and draped it over his back. Kalmar looked back at the portal. ”Do you want to go in?” he suddenly asked, as if he hadn’t just butchered a wolf before her very eyes.

”Oh, I would love to. I have never visited your realm despite it being so close to mine.” she said, not minding the butchering of a wolf at all, talking as if Kalmar had just picked up some flowers on the side of a road.

Kalmar nodded. He looked at his hands and the knife, both of which were stained with blood, and frowned. At once the blood seemed to vanish. ”I haven’t set foot inside it since I built it,” he confessed. ”It’s been too long.” And with those words he stepped through.

---

---

Soft-soled boots and discalced feet were nearly silent as they strode through dense underbrush, the air filled with the fragrances of a living forest. Fir, willow, bamboo and camphor were the dominant trees in this southern branch of the great western forest of the Nanhe. The musky scent of smoke and decay were also there, intermingling with the more delicate scents of recent rains to add to the full aroma of the forest floor.

All combined to give the very air life and movement as Anu and his party carefully maneuvered through the trees. Here and there birds called from their high and hidden perches in the branches of willows and camphor to add music to the glades and small animals rustled in counterpoint through the underbrush.

The servants’ dressings were varying levels of convenient for the journey. Qiang Quan ended up carrying the old Zhu Rongyuan who spent his time cataloguing the journey on a large palm frond using ink made from berry juice. Fu Lai’an seemed more used to impractical movements in heavy dresses, and Yong Cai’s linen pants were ideal for the climate and terrain. The elder looked up from his frond and bowed his head at Anu.

“Blessed lord, if this one may be so impolite as to ask, where does His Glorious Anu wish to travel?”

The ape paused. Time had begun to dissolve into itself, as shapeless as rain within these jungles. Hours became days and days seemed to fold into one another. All the while the veil of unconsciousness only seemed to dissolve completely from his mind, sending it into a tumult ushered by this new reality.

Shrubbery shifted as Anu ascended to his full height, now standing three heads above the tallest of the servants.

”Cherished Zhu, this one wishes to know, how great is this galbar?”

“According to His Lordship’s records, the galbar as measured from the Dragon’s Foot in the east to Istais in the west spans the unfathomable distance of thirty thousand kilometres, the distance from the north to the south being similar. It may even be larger than so, the empty space elsewhere being filled with swathes of deserted waters. According to the records, the galbar is composed of six large continents: The sister continents Swahitteh-Tendlepog to the north, Kalgrun to the west, Atokhekwoi to the south, the Kick to the north, and here - the Dragon’s Foot.” He bowed his head as deeply as he could from his position in Qiang Quan’s arms.

”Fascinating.” Anu sighed. ”Zhu, I desire to travel to the ends of the world and back. To drink in the marvels of godly creation. To conquer every mountain, to sail every ocean, to enlighten all people.” a pause. Golden eyes lifted to drink in the light of Heliopolis. ”But not as a simple adventurer, this soul yearns for something greater.”

The old servant nodded with closed eyes. Yong Cai and Fu Lai’an both kowtowed before the ape - Qiang Quan knelt as to not drop Zhu Rongyuan. “Your Lordship will indeed be worthy of all these feats in time - yet a crucial detail remains unsolved: A king is no king without a kingdom. To conquer, to sail, to rule - all of these actions require a people, and lands for that people to inhabit. Therefore, it is this one’s recommendation that Your Lordship acquires those first.” He bowed his head again.

”Land and a people..” the ape murmured quietly, the words hung the air. His mind returned to the hallowed words of his fathers.

”Zhu, earlier you made mention six continents, great swathes of land created by the gods. What peoples live upon them?”

“According to His Lordship’s records, there are no peoples of note on this good galbar yet. Individuals, yes, but no groups of mortals - well, apart from the children of Saint Hermes and Her Ladyship Xiaoli, your aunts,” said the old servant. “Therefore, this one regrets to say that there are currently a distinct lack of peoples to lead. However, Your Divinity’s blood is holy and pure - perhaps You needn’t adhere to restraints like ‘a lack of people’,” he suggested.

Anu responded with opaque silence, his bluff face brooding. The gods for all their time wrought upon galbar one fantastical work after another, from flying beast to wiley rodent. Yet left mortal life.

The ape pushed air through his nose and regarded the servants, works of his father Shengshi, molded into exemplary models of life by his doctrine and standards. His eyes raked across the surrounding forest, his divine sight blessing him with vision beyond that of any normal creature. It was undomesticated, feral, and so was the rest of Galbar. A virgin world yet to deflowered by man.

”Yes..” a look of resolute determination on his face. ”I needn’t adhere to any worldly restraint. If the gods allow Galbar to continue this way, untamed, savage, and unbroken, then I myself with a people worth calling my own shall domestic it.”

A heavily chained arm rose with a grace yet thought possible with its burden, pointing towards the great Nanhe in the distance. ”And where better to start, then with lands of my father.” he promulgated.

“A worthy proposal, Your sacred Majesty,” Zhu went. “The jungle is rich in fauna and fruit to sustain Your people, and the foliage provides shelter from the daily rains.” Zhu pointed further west. “Furthermore, if His Majesty continues through the jungle, He will find great plains of flax for His people to spin into clothing and grass for His people to weave to baskets. Then, to the north, His Lordship has planted rice along Beihe, the ideal food crop for a great civilisation to-be.”

”No doubt a land ripe for the pickings!” the ape followed, his chest swelling with pride. ”Tell me then, cherished servants, upon where shall my seat of power be established?”

This time, it was Qiang Quan who spoke. “While the Supreme Leader's access to the jungle is recommended, founding the capital of His empire to-be inside a maze of vines and fronds presents a considerable logistical challenge. While His Majesty no doubt can surmount any of these trials with ease, these puny mortals… Well, they cannot even be compared to Your might.” As if providing proof for his statement, he lifted Zhu Rongyuan up a little as to demonstrate that he, in fact, could not traverse the jungle landscape unaided. ”Therefore,” he continued, ”this servant humbly proposes that the capital be founded on the Xishan plains, or perhaps even by the foot of the great Xishan mountain.” The other servants bowed in agreement.

Yong Cai spoke next, “Jungle wood will be difficult to cut with any stone tools our mortal hands can fashion - a capital on the plains with access to straw and small, flexible saplings will provide more convenient resources without sacrificing too much distance from the jungle and river.”

“Yes, access to the rivers will be vital,” Zhu added. “With Nanhe's unpredictable, destructive floods, these servants also recommend keeping important infrastructure away from the southern jungle. Beihe is considerably more suited for a stationary settlement. The rivers provide clay, mud and - most vitally - water for your people and crops. It cannot be ignored.”

A nod of acknowledgement, Xishan would be the bed of his empire. ”Honored Servants, may your sacred service remain everlasting.” he said as he gestured gently forward. ”Lead the way.”

Once more, they kowtowed before their master - even Zhu was placed down on the ground so he could properly demonstrate his respect. Then, after Qiang Quan picked him up again, the elder once more pointed westwards. The group followed the tall warrior carrying the smaller magister accordingly. "Great Nanhe lies between us and the plains," Zhu mentioned as they walked. "We will have to cross it to reach the plains. Flood season is passed, though it is still a considerable distance. There is not a shred of doubt in this one's soul, however, that it will be no more than a leisurely swim for His Majesty," he reassured.

The albino scoffed. ”And how shall my hallowed advisors be crossing? Certainly Zhu shall not swim across, lest father’s blessings are far more numerous than this one can count?”

The servants stopped, bowed and continued walking. "His Majesty's concern is most appreciated," said Zhu, backed up by inclined heads from the other three. "However, these servants are of the river, and the river is in them. Swimming through Nanhe to them is as simple as walking to the Supreme Leader himself. These servants will be quite alright."

”Ah, I see, let us proceed then.” he chortled as he fell in step. What fascinating creature the gods created.

The group wandered ever further until they reached the bank of Nanhe. To most, the river resembled a lake with a current, its width so grand that the opposite bank nearly disappeared behind the clouds of mist that drifted lethargically above the waters. However, the shade of green at the edge of the horizon teased the existence of more life on the other side - more lands to be conquered. The servants almost ceremoniously removed their heavier garments, packed them in fronds and held the packages tightly against their bodies as they slipped into the water. As they did, the sand and mud on their skin dissipated, leaving four variously shaped, yet globe-like water heads looking patiently at Anu. The current was strong as always, but relatively weak today.

Anu too wasted no time. Within the green-algaed and brown-mudded waters he could feel the hand of his father Shengshi, heady and true. Without a word the colossal dived, cleaving the water with powerful strokes as soon as he surfaced. There was something about the motion that seemed to come naturally, an organic fluidity in every move.

"His Majesty masters the waters on His first swim. Truly, He is of our Lord's blood," Zhu praised.

"Truly, He is!" Fu Lai'an echoed gleefully.

"Does His Majesty feel at ease in the river?" said Yong Cai.

Spray flew outwards several feet, his powerful arms parting the river before him. ”This is the domain of my father. I feel nothing but ardor in these waters.” he breathed, not missing a beat.

"An encouraging sign, for certain," said Zhu with a transparent smile. "Now, if His Majesty would like to follow us." Effortlessly, as if they were their own currents in the river, the four advisors drifted towards the opposite bank with great speed.

The demigod couldn’t keep pace with the river spirits, their bodies one with the Nanhe itself, but he kept good time, cutting into waters with every motion. The powerful current offered a considerable challenge, even to the great ape, but in the end it was eventually outmatched by the sheer power of Anu’s strokes. The group reached the other side at last, its flora and fauna already a little different than that of the opposite bank simply due to the vast distance. The servants quickly absorbed the necessary sand and mud from the shore into their bodies to form a new skin, then dressed with all the deftness of actors putting on their costumes. They kowtowed before Anu and Zhu spoke:

“Did His Majesty enjoy the swim?”

Chains rattled as Anu sloughed off the algae that clung to his hair. ”Refreshing, I suppose. We proceed on foot from here?”

“His Majesty guess is worthy. From here, we will trek westwards on foot until we reach the Xishan plains. There, a plan for His Majesty’s future empire shall be laid.” When he finished, Qiang Quan picked Zhu up in his arms and proceeded to move through the foliage, followed by the two others. With a silent acknowledgement Anu padded after the escort, moving confidently through the dense undergrowth.

This part of the jungle was at once much denser than the east, and at once much more open. Walls of vines and fronds gave way to large clearings surrounded with bamboo and farmer apes, some of which snarled at the four servants, but cowered at the sight of Anu. Along the route, a family of tree monkeys climbed down from their home to offer their hands in respective gesture to Anu. Boars, frogs, birds - all bowed before the ape king. Anu regarded them all with a sense of what could best be described as pride, raising his hand in acknowledgment, and releasing them from their acts of obedience. The beasts and birds complied, but kept their heads bowed always as Anu passed by.

“Not even to the Lord himself do these animals bow like this,” assured Zhu Rongyuan. “Naturally, if he demanded it, they would, but nothing below a servant has ever gone out of its way to praise him. His Majesty’s presence is inherently dominating. How does His Majesty feel about that, if this one may be so rude as to ask?” The forest grew thinner with every step. They were approaching an endless, yellow light in the distance.

”I suppose one might call it a sense of pride…” thin lips fought back the curl of a smile. a moment of...self-actualization perhaps. To know of your mandate at birth and then to see it true, it’s a feeling in find hard to put into words, dear Zhu, other then...right.”

“A worthy conclusion, Your Majesty,” said Zhu noddingly. The group broke through the final wall of vines and wood to reveal the endless, flat stretches of yellow and green grass, backgrounded by two great, green twin peaks tipped with white and surrounded by clouds. Boars trundled across the plains in great packs, and birds sat pecking at the seeds in the ground. However, all in all, the plains were surprisingly empty.

“We have arrived,” proclaimed Zhu Rongyuan.

Anu’s expression was unreadable as he gazed upon the fantastic expanse. Golden-tawny grass and golden green turf checker-boarded in a pattern as wide as the world itself. ”The Xishan plains...” he whispered, for a moment allowing the full weight of his own satisfaction to flood his senses. Ceremoniously he raised his hands to encompass the expanse in its entirety. ”Yes, this one can see it now, a gilded city rising from these plains, one of newfound prosperity in this dark and wild age of beasts and battle. One of salvation from ignorance and enfeeblement, one that shall pave the way of balance and civility upon with untamed world. This prehistoric rawness of living led by least significant of sentience shall be wrought from existence, by any means.” he proclaimed, the power of his voice carrying across the plains. ”Such is my mandate as king.”

Chest swelling the ape’s arms returned to his sides. ”Dear Servants?” he intoned without shifting his gaze from the landscape.

All four kowtowed before their master. “Yes, Your Majesty?” they sounded in unison.

”We begin this work immediately. My seat of power. I require your wisdom on its construction.”

Yong Cai stood up, bowed again and surveyed the area. “It is this one’s opinion that Your Majesty’s capital should be settled either in the centre of the plains, for easy access to food and materials; to the north, for easy access to food and water; or at the foot of the Xishan mountains for a more defensible position. Any of these options are worthy, but it is up to His Majesty to choose.”

Qiang Quan nodded. “Transporting water to the first option opens for both Nanhe and Beihe to be suitable sources - however, the distance is still noticeable, and it may be inconvenient to travel such distances for one of the most basic requirements for life. This one therefore proposes His Majesty choose the second option.”

Fu Lai’an remained kowtowing and spoke, “This one has seen both the plains, Xishan and Beihe, and in terms of aesthetic pleasure, only the Beihese environment is worthy of His Majesty’s presence. This one therefore also humbly suggests that His Majesty select option two.”

Zhu Rongyuan stood up and looked to the north. “As His Majesty’s advisor on questions related to that of the state, Beihe provides a rich access to food and water, indeed - yet it lies on the border to Qiangshan, and the records speak of vicious creatures north of those mountains, and ghastly lands carved with blood - the lands of His Majesty’s other father, His Holiness Narzhak, King of Strife and Steel. Strikes from the northern beasts can prove a challenge to expansion, especially to mortals that cannot begin to measure up against His Majesty. This servant therefore suggests the first option.”

Anu pointed a finger to north. ”What is the current state of the waters to the north, they smell of fire, as if they boil?”

Zhu nodded solemnly. “A vile curse was cast upon the Dragon’s Strait a long time ago - they constantly and ceaselessly boil, killing anything and everything that enters it. It will, most regrettably, hinder any effort to sail into the open sea from His Majesty’s capital. Nanhe circumvents this issue, but, as mentioned before, the flood patterns simply make the risks of settling permanently much too great. The final option is to settle by the shores to the west, but these are unknown and uncharted - very little is explored there.”

”No, no need. We settle north. On the Beihe. We hold the greatest of advantages there upon the river. The northern beasts will prove to be no challenge.” Anu settled.

“As His Majesty commands,” the four advisors sounded. With that, once more, they began to trek northwards; this time, however, Zhu Rongyuan could walk on his own. They marched through grass and clay, past trees and jungle to the east and open plains to the west. As they approached Beihe, the atmosphere grew thick with delicious scents and vivid with the sound of life. They walked alongside the river northwards, the fish, amphibians, birds and reptiles all bowing to Anu as he passed. Even some of the plants bent slightly in his direction. They came upon the edge of the grasslands to the south, next interjection from the first of the great tributaries to Beihe from the Qiangshan mountains. Here, Yong Cai dug up a handful of moist clay and squeezed it between her fingers. She then stepped around in circles, plummeting her feet into the ground a few times. She stepped a few hundred metres further inland, did the same action a few more times, and then came back, kowtowed and spoke, “Your Majesty - settling right by the river will be difficult; however, about half a kilometre further inland, His Majesty will find good land to carry His palace and the houses of His people. It will not be too far from the river, either.”

The demigod momentarily glanced in the proposed direction. ”Excellent.” he said, then he mimicked Yong Cai’s previous action, digging up a handful of clay and squeezing it between his fingers. ”This substance is an adequate building material?” he inquired without looking up.

Yong Cai nodded. “While wood is the simplest material to work with, it is believed that clay also can make for proper housing. However, to extract workable amounts, there will be a need for the necessary infrastructure, such as toolmakers, storage huts and sledges - all of these will have to be built with simpler materials for now, like wood or boar furs.”

Zhu Rongyuan raised a cautionary hand. “Furthermore, to properly construct His Majesty’s capital, there will be a need for manpower - a city is built by the people for the people, and to the honour of their king. There is no doubt that His Majesty could easily found a city by His own divine hand, yet a city without a people to rule would be dull.”

Anu studied the grained earth, absent-mindedly folding it in his hands. ”Zhu you made mention of a threat in the Qiangshan.” he noted as his stance changed. Anu began taking huge clumps of clay from the earth, with both hands now, creating a pile.

The elder nodded. “The records suggest as much. Qiangshan is home to a cruel, gruesome kind of dragon, one which origins are tied to the great Flame Demon. Behind the mountain, the records speak of six-legged tigers and yellow-maned snakes which venom melts the skin and skeleton. No, no - in this servant’s arrogant opinion, there is little good to be said about those mountains save for their sacred purpose of walling these horrors off from our humble piece of Heaven.”

”Notably dangerous indeed, dear Zhu.” Anu approved as he began to mold the pile of clay. He spoke as he worked, creating separate but equal piles a clay each about the size of a servant’s hand. ”But while you see danger I only see opportunity. Tell me what lies further beyond this wall of stone.”

Zhu tugged at his long, whitened beard. “The records in that regard are far from complete, regrettably, yet a few details are of note: Firstly, Guoqiangdi, or the Land Beyond the Wall, is a grey, ashen wasteland according to His Lordship. There is little of note there except for the River Seihdhar, which existence is in itself a grave sin.” The elder shook his head. “Forgive this respectless servant for uttering such despicable words, but His Majesty must know of the horror that is that streak of soil and suffering.” He bowed deeply before he nodded back up. “Secondly, the Great Scar, or the World Scar, His Majesty’s second father’s home, lies beyond the mountains - or rather, next to them far to the east. Thirdly, there is the White Land, but His Lordship has never seen it up close - in fact, it is not known what it actually is.”

If Anu was at all impressed he showed little signs of it, instead enthralled in his growing project. Lumps of clay where fashioned into prehensile feet from which a thin yet powerful torso stood stable upon. Anu used river water to keep the clay moist. He gestured for Yong to join him, instructing her begin on the upper body. ”On this continent alone the creativity of the gods are wondrous. What of elsewhere?”

Yong Cai obeyed, seemingly giddy from the honour. She started sculpting the upper body to resemble Anu’s mighty build, yet reduced to the point where the legs still could properly support it. Meanwhile, Zhu tugged thoughtfully at his beard. “In addition to the three Great Rivers, Beihe, Nanhe and Taipang, the Dragon’s Foot is home to two other places of note: Siguo, the Land of Death, and Henshan, or the Mountain of Hate.” Zhu gestured eastward, where even from here - across the continent - black clouds could be seen in the far distance. “It is the home of the Flame Demon, and a death sentence for every Servant. They are cursed lands, indeed.”

”A god I presume?”

“A demon, Your Majesty,” Zhu Rongyuan insisted. “For fear of summoning Its wrath, these servants dare not speak Its name. Please, forgive their disobedience.” He kowtowed.

Anu let out a deep rumbling laughter as he fashioned lean arms from the shoulders that rested proudly on the waist. ”You are forgiven, call it what you like. Its barbarism has no place in this dream of mine. What of the other divines?”

“The Nanhese jungle’s origin likely date to the First Age, though the records from back then are old and unclear. His Lordship did not write as much back then as he does now - He was no doubt quite busy shaping the world. Naturally, there is also the Kick to the north, though that land has seen little to no development throughout time, if observations from the air are to be trusted.” The elder scratched his chin with furrowed brows. “There is also the Cauldron, in which His Majesty was born. This servant reckons that place will become a destination of pilgrimage for His Majesty’s loyal followers. It -is-, after all, a most sacred place.” Once more, he bowed. “Then finally, there is the gate to Your Majesty’s father’s home, the great and holiest of places: Hemen, the River Gate. It is a mighty archway of water opened with a sacred key - the head of a dragon - that leads into the Land of Heaven, Fengshui Fuyou.” As he uttered the name of the sphere, all the servants fell to their knees, kowtowed thrice and rose back up.

Yong put the final few touches to the sculpture, it’s visage akin to that of Anu himself, albeit much smaller. The look of satisfaction graced the ape’s face as the thing neared completion. ”And what of the other continents? I’m sure divinity has touched them as well.”

“Very much so, Your Majesty,” Zhu Rongyuan assured. “Among these, the most well known to His Lordship are Istais and Tendlepog. Istais, the Island of Light, is the home of Her Holiness Asceal, the Queen of Light. It is a spectacular little island, according to the records, with adorable small mountains, rolling hills and lakes. Furthermore, it is the home of His Lordship’s most prized accomplishment in terms of rivercraft - Lihe, the Beautiful River. While none of the servants have ever seen it, the poems describe it as simply marvellous. The snowy mountains are home to some of His Lordship’s creations, as well, like the Istaian mountain goat and the snow toad.” He eyed the sculpture for a moment. “His Majesty’s skill in the arts is astounding, truly.”

“Very much so,” Fu Lai’an said with a breathy, soft voice and reddened cheeks.

Anu regarded the rather crude statue, while it lacked great detail, it’s countenance was one of regality, a proud simian, standing at five feet and five inches, almost six heads his lesser. ”Earlier Zhu you proclaimed that I needn’t adhere to worldly constraints, for I was a divine and creation was my mandante.” he began, gesturing towards the statue. ”Here stands the manifestation of those words I too found only truth in. A people worth ruling. A Pygmy, the children of Anu and of these plains.”

A gesture towards Yong. ”I commission you to craft nine more of similar build and countenance, yet allow your imagination to freely embellish them is you wish.”

“At once, Your Majesty,” Yong Cai answered, bowed and immediately commenced. Qiang Quan shoveled the necessary clay out of the riverbank and Fu Lai’an’s deft, nimble fingers produced beautiful details like muscle lines, pores, strands of hair and more. Zhu Rongyuan regarded the shape with an approving nod.

“His Majesty’s creation is worthy,” he proclaimed. “They will certainly grow to be a mighty people of culture and wisdom.” The elder opened his arms and looked to the sky. “His Lordship can surely see Your progress - this servant is certain He feels nothing but pride.”

Anu had already returned to work on the first sculpture, embellishing its details. ”This one is sure he is. No room for failure.” he breathed, hiding an almost undetectable edge somewhere within.

“Indeed,” Zhu Rongyuan nodded. Yong Cai, meanwhile, patted clay around the hip section of one of her projects, using a flat stone to flatten and pronounce the curves. Its form was placed a head shorter than the height of the first one. The womanly form was given the similar simian features and presented to Anu.

“Blessed leader,” Yong Cai called softly and bowed. “This servant proposes this to be a standard mould for the female counterpart. The hips width will improve the chances of conflict-free births and thus grant Your Majesty’s population a much steadier population growth.”

’Outstanding.” Anu praised, studying the figure before adding another lump of clay to his masterpiece. ”Be sure to keep them equal in number this growth is key. Your work is splendid.”

With reignited vigour, the grinning Yong Cai poured her soul and skill into producing a beautiful second figure, this one lean, fit and handsome - a simian that would attract several mates for certain. Meanwhile, Fu Lai’an made her own sculpture, another female with a mighty build, almost similar to Anu, though still much shorter. Qiang Quan had scooped enough mud to complete the commission, so he modelled a statue similar to the first, but a little skinnier, even.

After several hours, the king of the apes was presented with ten similar, yet distinctly shaped pygmies, all of which were almost staring intently at him, as if awaiting his command.

Golden eyes as bright as Heliopolis themselves appraised each and every one. His people. A people worthy to tame this wretched world by his hand. His own children. A well of hubris bubbled as that idea came to pass, but he quickly stamped it down, he’d reveled in enough today.

”Your work today servants of mine has been superb, worthy of every accolade under Heliopolis.” he said bowing toward the servants, albeit not as low.

The servants all cast themselves to the ground and prostrated themselves. “These servants only wish to adequately serve their worthy king,” went Zhu Rongyuan. The elder stood back up, his head still inclined and his left hand covering his right fist. “Will His Majesty awaken His creations?”

’Yes indeed.” the ape said as he pressed his thumb against the tip of an incisor, breaking skin almost immediately. Divine ichor leaked from the wound, smelling of iron and alcohol.

With said thumb Anu padded over to the pygmy statues, one after another brushing a golden stroke of divine ichor across their foreheads. ”Flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone, I bid life into thee, by my blood. Breath!” he heaved.

Like a wave the divine ichor seemed to radiate a power across their bodies, transmuting clay before their very eyes into sinew, tissue, and hair. Organs such as lungs, the liver and brain were synthesized and began to function, toes and fingers curled as the nervous system went online, and blood rushed throughout the body as the first beats of the heart engaged.

The first of the pygmies began to blink, the vestiges of consciousness gracing them.

“Remarkable,” went Zhu and leaned in to inspect one of the wide-eyed faces. Qiang Quan went from pygmy to pygmy and squeezed their shoulders and shook them a bit to test their balance. Fu Lai’an began teaching the first pygmies the Shengshese tongue, holding up objects and saying the words for them. Yong Cai stood pondering the shapes of the simians, whether some more clay could have been used in different departments or not.

”There are your new students.” he gestured towards the pygmies, his voice snapping them at attention. ”Teach them well, just as you taught me.”

“Naturally, Your Majesty. In time, they shall have all the necessary knowledge to construct His Majesty’s holy capital,” Zhu Rongyuan proclaimed with a bow.

Anu nodded, his eyes still on the pygmies. ”Good, soon this world will know order.”

---

Orvus stood upon Veradax, wandering until he at last came upon what he had been hoping for. A soft glimmer in the endless expanse of his sphere. He crouched, his tattered cloak rippling in the wind. A storm was coming, one he could easily get rid of, but his mind was singular in its focus and he had at last found it. With careful fingers, he picked up the shard of light. It had once belonged to a whole, and that whole had a great purpose but then it shattered into a million little pieces, scattering throughout the fledgling universe. A piece of his sister’s sphere, the first Lustrous Garden. It sit sat in the palm of his hand, shaped like a long, drawn out tear. That could be fixed. As the storm began to swallow him in it’s dust, Orvus took off into the sky, towards the gateway to Galbar.

Back in the Eye, Orvus stood before a bench with several random objects scattered about its surface. The bench itself was in the barn, a large structure behind the old cabin. There was nothing really in it, besides the bench and items he had been collecting. Items that had value to those that new the price. Scraps of Orvium, a couple of sticks from the Mar Tree, designs, patterns, multitude of jewels, other ores, and a handful of Garden shards. Those had been tricky to find, but at long last, Orvus was ready.
He took with him a branch, orvium, a crystal of light, and jewels and with these items he went outside and traveled to the beach of orvium. Veradax hung dimly in the night sky, as the Lustrous Garden beamed down. When he set down upon the beach, he placed each item so that it touched one another in a line upon the black sand. Then the god shut his eyes, and held a hand out. With it, he poured his power, strength and the will for it to be. And so it was.

There was a blinding flash of light, enough to blind that of a god, temporarily. Orvus shielded his eyes, and slowly the glow subsided with a hiss. Before him, the ground was scarred white and broken, but in front of him a sword floated. The sword pulsed softly, as Orvus took it the sight in. White upon black, encrusted with diamonds and onyx upon the hilt of orvium, the grip was spiraled and shimmering as it faded into the pommel. Set in the end, the crystal of light had become a shining jewel about the size of a walnut. But the blade itself was even more impressive. As thin as a piece of parchment, but sharper then even the teeth of a Reaper, it was bleached white by the process. White orvium, that glowed the very same color, pulsing as if it breathed.

And then a voice spoke, as deep as the abyss and as cold as the moon, “I am Wreanun. You are Orvus, Creator and God. What would you do with me?”

Orvus was taken aback by the Wreanun’s voice and the fact that the sword could talk at all. But as Orvus thought more about it, he realized that such a thing could be possible and in fact, needed. The artifact was powerful, and it had drained him considerably, he would not be able to make another one so soon as he would have liked, but Wraenun had been worth it.

”I would do nothing with you, but others will. You are intended to be wielded by those who are worthy, that have the willpower to use you effectively. You are a deterrent, a weapon and a shield against all threats. You are to perform to your utmost capacity, Wraenun. You are the Sword of Ending.” Orvus said with clarity in his voice.

“So be it, but those who are not worthy, will only suffer.” Wraenun said coldly, “Who shall be first tested?”

”My daughter, Laurien.” Orvus responded.

“And if she is not worthy? Are you willing to live with the consequences, Creator?”

Orvus narrowed his eyes and said, ”She is worthy, I know it.”

“Only I can judge her worthiness.” Came the swords retort.

And the sword’s word was final, for Orvus knew it to be true. If Laurien was not worthy, then… He would simply have to fix her if it came to it. But it would not come to it, for she had fought many dangerous things, proving her worth each and every time. If Wraenun did not bond with her, then it was his loss.

”Very well, Wraenun. Now let us go. Let us go and see.” Orvus said, lifting off.

“Lead the way then.”

---

---

”...And that’s how I would describe the two of them.” Arya said as they walked underneath the trees of her home. There was excitement in her voice, something not even Laurien had heard before. The two walked side by side, at a very quick pace. They had decided to forgo flying, as to have a certain air of ‘surprise’ as Arya had put it. And now the two walked and talked after having spent a good bit of time traveling since their fateful encounter with the echos.

”Well, they sound lovely, Arya.” Laurien mused aloud. ”Oh! How tall are they?” she asked thoughtfully.

”Oh… Well I was taller than them before I left but now… Mother Xiaoli is really short, but don’t be fooled by that. She’s an avatar of his Holiness after all. And Mama Hermes is a little taller than her. The babies were really short though.” Arya said giving a light giggle.

At the mention of an avatar, Laurien frowned, her battle with Vrog coming to mind. ”Have you noticed Arya, that everyone is so… Short? Everyone I’ve met is just… Super small. I’m even taller then some gods. Can you believe such a thing?” Laurien asked her frown becoming a smile.

”I wouldn’t know, I’ve really only been around Servants and they are pretty short. I always felt like a giant around them.” she said laughing, before falling silent. Laurien then put a hand on her shoulder and Arya turned to look at her. ”It’s okay to be sad.” Laurien said to her softly.

Arya put a hand on her’s and after a moment she sighed, saying, ”I know… I just want to be happy… I’m here about to see my… Other family and I’m just so nervous. What if they forgot about me? What if they don’t recognize me? What if… What if they aren’t there?” her voice came, fringed with fear.

Laurien gently squeezed her sister’s shoulder and said, ”Nonsense. One could never forget you, and come on… You are one of the most unique looking people on Galbar, they will recognize you. And… And they will be there. I know it.” Arya quickly wiped away a tear and gave Laurien a smile.

”You’re right. Yeah… Everything will be okay. Now come on, I can hardly contain my excitement!” she said before beginning to speed walk in the direction of the house. They were close now, very close. Laurien waited a moment before shaking her head and chuckling. She then followed. As they neared the main house, Arya paid tribute to the shrines, and beckoned Laurien to do the same. Arya then stood silently, looking at her home for the first time in such a long time. It elicited such warm feelings, of happiness and joy that she did not move for a moment. Laurien stood silently behind her, taking it all in for the first time. Arya then looked back at Laurien and smiled before approaching the slider doors at the far end of the courtyard.

“Uhm… Excuse me,” came a tiny voice as Arya and Laurien neared the main house.

Both girls stopped dead in their tracks at the sound of another’s voice. Next to them in the grass sat two young girls, one considerably taller than the other, though still a speck compared to the two giantesses. The smaller one chewed on a biscuit and appeared to make great efforts to hide herself behind her older sister, who rose to her feet and bowed.

“W-we don’t often get guests around here. I’m- No, wait… This humble servant of Yours is named--”

“Laiaaaa, y-you’re messhing up your relationshipsh again,” mumbled the younger sister with her mouth full of biscuit and covered her face with her large sleeves.

“W-well, it’s not easy to remember it all, Bayarmaa! Ugh, you’re so--!” She turned back to the two and bowed again, frantically this time. “So, so sorry! She’s really young and, well… Hi, nice to meet you! I’m Laia! Wait, no, messed it up again! Snapfruit!”

There had been a moment in time Arya had wondered if more children would come. But if she could have ever been prepared, it was not now. At the sight of the two girls, Arya gasped and fell to her knees before them, with her eyes so wide. She looked over them both. They were beautiful, so, so beautiful. ”Oh!” she said through happy tears, ”Laia, Bayarmaa. It’s so nice to meet you, little ones. My name is Arya, and that, is Laurien. W-Where are y-your mother's?” Arya said, choked up. Laurien in the meantime, had a very large smile upon her face, but said nothing.

“Oh! Well, they’re--”

"Wow!" A blue-haired girl suddenly butted into the conversation, having snuck up behind Laurien, "You musta drank allllll you're milk growing up, huh?"

At the sound of the new voice, Arya and Laurien snapped their heads at the small child. Arya gasped again, and Laurien looked down with a confused look. ”Milk?” she turned to Arya, ”What’s that?”

"A good time!" Altansarnai giggled, "Momma says to drink it every dinner and then I can be big and strong. I'm already pretty strong too!"

”Why, of course you are!” Laurien said, turning back to the small girl. ”And what’s your name, little one?” she asked.

“Hey, Altan, don’t interrupt - it’s rude, you know!” Laia huffed.

"No, no!" Altansarnai waved her hands in front of Laia's face, "my name is--" she tapped her chin in a familiar way, "Tree-eater… Fiery Tree-eater… Of the flatlands… yes."

As Laurien chuckled out loud, Arya watched the new girl, and a smile crossed her eyes as she realized that she reminded her of Hermes. ”Fiery Tree-Eater, Of the flatlands. It is so nice to meet you. I’m sure you have many stories to tell.” Laurien giggled. Altansarnai nodded eagerly.

Laia put her hands on her hips and huffed a little more. She then looked down at her biscuit-munching little sister, who was busy hiding behind the older sister’s legs. “Bayarmaa, could you go get mother? I think she should be in the family house - well, the big one.”

Bayarmaa looked up and nodded timidly before rushing off past Arya and Laurien as if they were chasing her. Laia bowed again. “Sorry about her - she’s a little afraid of people.”

Arya gushed as the little one ran off, her heart beating a thousand times a minute. She turned to Laia and said, ”That’s okay, I’m sure you don’t see many people out here anyways. It’s only natural.” she said with a warm smile.

“.. Yeah, yeah, weird people in the yard, I get it, Bayarm--” Suddenly Xiaoli stood in the doorway of the family house behind Arya and Laurien, her arms nearly dropping the sleeping Temüjin. The river girl’s eyes went wide as saucers, but soon squinted together again as they filled with tears. “A-Arya?” she whispered.

At the sound of a familiar voice, Arya perked up and turned around. Slowly the girl stood up as a new flood of tears fell down her face. ”M-Mother!” she said, scrambling towards her. Careful not to crush the little one in her hands, Arya gently embraced Xiaoli, sobbing as she did. ”I-I-I’m back.”

Xiaoli wrapped her free arm around Arya’s neck and rubbed her face deeply into her shoulder affectionately. She sniffed and said, “Welcome home, dear."

Altansarnai let out a soft "ooo" as she oogled the reunion from Laurien's side. The blue-haired girl stepped forward, her hands eager fists, "Momma, are they staying for dinner?"

Arya pulled away from Xiaoli and said, ”So many little ones.” with a laugh.

Xiaoli giggled. “Yeah, you know, that’s what happens when one has a lot of time, a lot of room and a lot of--...” She looked around at her children and blushed a bit. “... Well, it happens.” She gave Altansarnai smile. “Why, yes, I was hoping they would.” She looked at the two expectantly, then noticed that there were indeed two. “Oh, pardon! I was a little overcome by the reunion.” She bowed to Laurien. “Forgive me. I’m Xiaoli, wife of Hermes and lady of the house. Who are you, may I ask?”

Laurien bowed to Xiaoli and said, ”There is nothing to forgive, Lady Xiaoli. I am Laurien, sister to Arya.” she said with respect. ”Your children and home, are very lovely.”

“Arya’s sister? My, Arya, you never told us you had a sister! She looks older than you, too.” Xiaoli ran her eyes up and down Laurien’s figure.

Both Laurien and Arya began to talk at once, speaking of who the older siblings was before they paused, and began laughing merrily.

Arya then said, ”Well the thing is, I never knew! Father created her, and sent her out to find me.” Arya said, misty eyed as she turned to Laurien. ”And found me she did. But, I am definitely the older sibling.” she said with a laugh.

”It is true. She has me in age, but… Well… I’m taller.” Laurien said, holding her tongue in front of the children, with a childish grin.

“Taller, indeed,” Xiaoli mumbled. “I do hope you two will fit inside the house. Otherwise, we can just eat outside. Would that be alright with you, hmm?”

”Of course!” Laurien said, ”Whatever is easiest, my Lady.” she beamed a smile at Xiaoli.

“Then it’s settled. Laia, dear, take Bayarmaa and Altansarnai with you and fetch Zhongcheng and Ai. Set out the tables and dishes - I’ll get back to making dinner in a minute. Oh! And tell Ansong to make some tea if you see her.”

Laia nodded. “Yes, mother.” She then turned to Arya and Laurien with a wide smile, bowed and began to shepherd her siblings to the dining house with a big of effort: Bayarmaa on one hand was seemingly quite happy to be anywhere else but here, whereas Altansarnai looked desperately eager to study the guests more. Xiaoli sighed a little and put her hand on her hip. “Just you wait until you one day get some of your own,” she snickered.

Arya laughed. ”Oh, maybe one day, isn’t that a thought?” Arya mused, before looking down at the sleeping child in Xiaoli’s arms. ”And who might this be?” she asked quietly.

“Oh!” Xiaoli went and smiled at the small boy on her arm. “This little troublemaker is Temüjin. Don’t be fooled by his sleepy demeanour - he laid waste to Wenbo’s city models yesterday. He will no doubt be as wild as his mother when he grows up.” Xiaoli offered him to Arya. “Want to hold him?”

”Oh… I…” Arya said while looking at him. ”It’s been so long since I… Okay.” she said taking him from Xiaoli delicately. In her arms now, she watched his peaceful face, and knew he was having a pleasant dream. ”Little Temüjin.” she gasped, ”How many? How many more?” she asked softly to Xiaoli.

“You mean how many we’re planning or how many there are?” Xiaoli snickered.

”Planning? Oh my goodness, I meant how many there are now. How many are you planning!” Arya said enthusiastically.

“His Lordship made his own recommendation, but I don’t think the two of us can go for ten thousand just yet… But I wouldn’t mind a few more. Currently, we have ten.”

”Ten!” she whispered loudly, as Laurien gave a whistle. ”This is wonderful, so, so wonderful. I could never have even imagined. Oh I’m so… So emotional right now.” she said as tears began to well up in her eyes as she handed Temüjin back to Xiaoli. Arya began to wipe more tears away from her eyes.

"Xiaoli, I-" The familiar bold and clear (if not a little raspy) voice of Hermes called out from one of the buildings as the Dreamer exited her cloak covering her save for her stressed looking face. Her black eyes widened and with a sudden boom and a blur she exploded into a streak of speed, suddenly slamming Arya into a massive hug. The impact cleanly took Arya from her feet as Hermes squeezed happily and twirled the girl.

"Arya!" She smiled wide and placed her back on the ground, "You're back!"

"Mama!" Arya squealed with joy as she embraced Hermes back and completely broke down as she did so. Her crying was silent but very apparent as her black tears stained her face in abstract streaks. After a long pleasant hug, Arya murmured, "I'm back. I'm home."

“You are,” Hermes squeezed Arya a bit more before plopping her back onto the ground. Her dark eyes flickered to Laurien, a cheshire grin still buzzing on her lips, “Hello!”

"Hello," Laurien said chipperly, "I've heard a great deal about you Hermes, about both of you. I'm glad to know that Arya had a place with such lovely people to call home. So, thank you. Both of you." the tall woman said bowing.

Arya then said, "Mama, that's Laurien. She's my sister and she found me when I was lost." Arya said softly.

“Well it’s a pleasure,” Hermes nodded before hooking an arm around Xiaoli’s waist, “Are you two hungry?”

They both said yes in unison, then began to giggle. Hermes nodded vigorously “Good! Because Xiaoli is making…” She contorted her face, “Sweetgrass, what’s for dinner?”

"Grilled duck, dear," Xiaoli said sweetly as she hoisted Temüjin up against her shoulder. "I reckon Laia took over the preparation now. I'm barely needed in a kitchen anymore," she giggled. "Oh, look, there they're coming with the tables…" The river girl let out a happy sigh as three children of various ages came carrying a round, medium-sized dining table. Laia was indeed missing, and little Bayarmaa carried the sitting pillows - well, as many as she could hold.

"Here on the courtyard, please," Xiaoli said and pointed down.

"Ugh, Altan, you're walking too fast," Zhongcheng complained as he appeared to almost trip forward with every step.

"You're walking too slow," Altansarnai stuck her tongue out and Hermes shook her head.

"After you put the table down, go fetch the others," Hermes looked over at Altansarnai, the girl giving her an eager look. Once the table was barely on the ground, the blue-haired girl broke into a sprint, leaving Zhongcheng groaning.

The boy sucked up his groan and pursed his lips. Hermes gave him a sorry smile and rustled his hair, inciting a quiet, "Mom."

In seconds the rest of the children arrived spearheaded by a bouncing Altansarnai. Chagatai and Wenbo hung behind the others, a dark look in their eyes as if awaiting an impending sentence, which they were. Li seemed perky, as if forgetting his traumatic experience earlier. His tiny smile faded when he saw Arya and Laurien, quickly hiding behind a closeby Ai, arms filled with utensils and cups.

Laurien now stood next to Arya as they watched the children with bright eyes. Ten was a big family but it felt like more, with all eyes on the pair of sisters and not even all of them were there! Arya turned to Xiaoli and Hermes saying, "Oh they're so beautiful and big!" she said turning to the twins. In her excitement she failed to realize the strange looks upon their faces but it did not go unnoticed by Laurien.

Xiaoli gave the boys a frown and said, "How about you sit down? Dinner should be ready any minute and- Oh! There's little Ansong!" A sweet little girl came out of the dining house with a tray. On the tray was a teapot, four teacups, another, taller cup and a plate of biscuits. She poured two of the cups half full and held the tray up to Laurien and Arya. "Are you thirsty?"

Both girls graciously took a cup saying thanks to the little Ansong. Arya took a sip and closed her eyes as the flavors washed around and then down. It had been a long time since she tead. Laurien also took a sip, then another and another until her cup was empty. "Delicious." she said cheerfully.

Ansong smiled from ear to ear and darted her eyes at Xiaoli, who winked proudly. "Right," the river girl said, "I'll check on how Laia is doing. How about you three catch up for a bit before food is served, hmm?" She nodded at Hermes, bowed almost instinctively, and headed for the kitchens.

“Alright, well,” Hermes put her hands on her hips, “Let’s all have a seat then, yeah?” As if punctuating her words, the kids clamored to their cushions. Hermes took a big plump one at the head of the table right next to a lone blue pillow that the kids avoided. Wenbo and Chagatai sat close together, as far away from Hermes as possible without ending up on the other end of the table. Little Li on the other hand, sat right next to her around the corner, a goofy smile on his tiny face.

After watching all of the children take a seat, Arya and Laurien both sat down at the far end of the table. Arya sat directly across from Hermes and Laurien sat on her right side. Since she was a bit too big, Laurien simply sat on the ground, pushing the pillow aside. After a moment, Arya fake coughed and said, "So, introductions?" she asked chipperly. Laurien gave a simple nod, as she fidgeted with the smaller silverware.

“Oh!” Hermes smiled, “Right! So this is little Li, that is Ansong, Ai, Zhongcheng, Wenbo, Chagatai, Bayarmaa, Altansarnai, and then Temüjin and Laia are with Xiaoli.” She clasped her hands together, “And everyone, this is your older sister Arya,” She gestured towards Arya, “And her sister Laurien. So in a way, Laurien is your sister too.” Hermes cocked her head, “If that’s alright with you Laurien.”

Laurien suddenly jolted up and looked at Hermes, then to Arya who gave her a wide smile and a nod. Laurien then turned back to Hermes and said, "Oh, I'd be honored!" her voice was full of silky happiness. Arya in the meantime seemed to take her time studying each and everyone of her siblings.

“You’re really tall. I don’t think you’ll fit inside the guest rooms...” Ai claimed with an uncertain frown. Bayarmaa poked her head out from next to Altansarnai to stare wordlessly at Laurien. Laia quickly came running from the kitchens with two steam baskets which she promptly put on the table before rushing back.

Laurien turned to look down at AI with a soft smile. "You are probably right, but that's okay. I'm perfectly happy to sleep outside. I've been doing that for… Awhile now." she said before turning to Bayarmaa and winking.

Bayarmaa once more dove for cover behind her sister. Zhongcheng raised an eyebrow and threw his hands in the air. “You sleep outside?! Why?!”

“Zhongcheng, don’t be rude!” Ai snapped. “Animals sleep outside, too.”

“Is she an animal?” Bayarmaa asked carefully.

Ai blushed with embarrassment. “Wuh-! No! Look at her!”

"I'm an animal!" Altansarnai growled and lunged for the steam basket, only for her hand to get slapped away by her mother.

"Children, please," Hermes commanded, "Laurien is not an animal, she's family."

"Poppler's family," Zhongcheng idly mentioned while inspecting his empty plate.

"Don't be smart," Hermes narrowed her eyes and the boy shrugged and went back to his quiet studying of the plate.

Laurien held a hand over her mouth, stifling her laughter as the children discussed her. In the courtyard gate came Laia once more, this time carrying bowls of carrots and radish chopped into long strips, as well as bowls of fermented cabbage and a jar of a thick, sticky sauce that smelled like cooked meat. She rushed back out to the kitchens promptly thereafter.

“Need some help out there?” Ansong called softly after her, but got no answer. The small girl sighed a bit and poured some more tea for Arya and Laurien. They graciously took more tea and began to sip.

"So tell me about… well everything," Hermes began looking at Laurien and Arya, "I feel like I've missed so much."

"Are you staying forever?" Altansarnai asked.

"I think so, little one." Arya said softly to Altansarnai. There was a smile on her face that quickly faded as she looked to Hermes. "There's much to tell but… Not right now, please. I'd much rather know about here and everything that's happened. I'm sure you have many stories."

“Of course,” Hermes smile turned to one of concern, “Well after, how about we go to my study, like we used to? As for now, life has hit a sort of rhythm.” She tapped her chin, “I admit it’s not my old adventures across Galbar, but it’s an adventure all the same. Every day looks like it’s the same as the rest… at least in name, but in actuality so many little things and experiences keep me saited, especially since it’s with my little ones.” She sighed contently, “Also my studies and various projects help keep my curiosity occupied at least.” She shook her head, “Poor Xiaoli.”

“Did somebody call?” Xiaoli asked warmly as she came into the courtyard carrying a large tray with brown-skinned, crispy duck slices. Next to her walked Laia with a jug of juice in each arm, diligently trying to mimic her mother’s proud, controlled posture with her nose almost pointing straight upwards and her back so straight it almost curved backwards. Temüjin sat tucked inside the folds of Xiaoli’s robe, making bubbles between his lips.

“Oh, we were just admiring your patience, love,” Hermes winked, “Looks good by the way.”

“It was my idea!” Li shouted suddenly, “Duck!”

Xiaoli pursed her lips and shrugged. “My patience, huh. Well, it does take a little extra to survive for so many years with ten tiny dreamers - and a couple more with one beautiful one.” She made a teasing raspberry at Hermes and put the duck on the table. Eager to copy his mother, Temüjin made a much messier raspberry all over the person Xiaoli had to lean over - one young Ai that was growing slightly vexed at all the children noise around her. She felt something wet drip through her alabaster hair and immediately touched it, looked up and huffed.

“Moooom! Temüjin spat in my haaaaiiir!”

Xiaoli sighed. “Ai, you know how we just talked about patience? He’s a toddler - show him some.”

Temüjin made an innocent face, but it hid the sliest of smirks. Ai glared back. “He’s smirking at me, mom. He knows what he did.” Xiaoli merely shook her head and unlidded the steam baskets.

“Alright, everyone! You know how it works - grab a pancake, take some duck and vegetables, add some sauce and wrap it together. Remember to share now, okay? And-- No, Altan, guests first!”

“BUT Momma,” Altansarnai did her best Zhongcheng impression, chin up and everything, “I heard that they are family and not guests.” Zhongcheng rolled his eyes.

"Oh please, let the children eat first! We are family after all and my appetite hasn't changed much. That okay Laurien?"

Laurien nodded. "I had a boar the other night, still hungry mind you, but I don't care if the children go first. They need to eat to get big and strong." she said smirking at Altansarnai.

“Oh come,” Hermes put some of the food on her and Xiaoli’s plate, “Take a bite, enjoy it-- these kids are well fed and can wait two seconds.”

A tiny finger prodded Laurien and Ansong looked up with her deep black eyes, “You have to.” She all but whispered.

At the small prod, Laurien shrugged and began to do as instructed. She very tentatively took a pancake and layered it with a small bit of vegetables and duck. It was apparently that the small thing would really only serve as an appetizer to the giantess but she said nothing as she plopped the thing in her mouth and began to chew. Arya yielded as well and began to eat. Laurien let out a little gasp as she sat back shutting her eyes.

"Delicious! I haven't had food like this since I met his Holiness. It's very good, well done ladies. Arya then gave two thumbs up as she chewed.

Xiaoli giggled. “Laia did almost all the work - it’s her you should thank.” The little girl beamed like the sun and bowed, “This servant is tha-” In her ecstacy, however, she forgot that the table was right in front of her face and dunked her forehead against it with an ‘ow!’ On the opposite side of the table, Zhongcheng, Altansarnai and Ansong all burst out into a loud cackle. Even Ai let a few snickers escape. Temüjin made a raspberry before joining in. The apple-skin red face of Laia looked up, except that it was hidden behind two palms of shame. Bayarmaa nodded understandingly. “M-mommy,” Laia sobbed.

“Alright, that’s enough laughing,” Xiaoli commanded with a hint of a smile on her face as she began to inspect Laia’s forehead.

Both Arya and Laurien flinched as Laia hit her head. They did not laugh or smile at the child, but shared an empathetic look. Arya knew she'd have to do something nice for her later, to make her feel better and as a reward for cooking such delicious food.

”Pop!” A plump cloudling suddenly whizzed out of the carafe of juice, it’s cloudy lobes stained red. It crackled mischievously before zipping into Hermes’ hair. The Dreamer made a face.

“Oh so that’s where you’ve been,” She huffed and a tiny Zzt! answered. Hermes couldn’t help but break into a tiny laugh, “And our eleventh child, everyone.”

”Zzt!”

Xiaoli shook her head with a roll of the eyes and a smile on the face before blowing one last time on the small bump forming on Laia’s still pink forehead. “No child of mine has a mouth like that, I can assure you.”

Laurien bent down and whispered to Arya, "What was that?" Arya turned and leaned into her sister's ear, "That's Poppler, he's a cloudling. Native to Tendlepog." Laurien then said, "Well what did it say?" Arya then shrugged and said, "Dunno, I don't speak cloudling. I kinda just nodded whenever he popped near me." she said with a sly smile. Laurien looked confused but said no more.

The plate of duck finally reached Wenbo and Chagatai and, with as small movements as he could manage, Wenbo stealthily began to snatch some slices of duck for his brother and himself. Chagatai swallowed a dry gulp of air and slowly ate, using his utensils lethargically, and shrinking under the gaze of Hermes.

Hermes chewed on her duck, Xiaoli sitting down next to her. As the woman swallowed she cleared her throat, “So… boys?” Her eyes were directly on the twins, backed up by the fiery glare of Xiaoli. Arya turned her attention to the twins, for the first time realizing that something looked awry.

Wenbo squeezed his eyes together and grit his teeth. He sucked in a quiet breath, put on the brightest smile he could and went, “Yes, dear mom? Would you like me to pass anything?”

“Have you two done any thinking on what happened?” Hermes’ usual cheery tone was serious.

Chagatai croaked a response, “Yes, mom.”

“Oh?”

“It was my fault and I feel terrible about Li. I lead them wrong.” He looked over at Zhongcheng, “But I think I did answer the problem like a leader.”

“Yes, protecting your brother was the right thing to do - and we are both really happy that you both survived…” Xiaoli agreed. “However, the root of the issue is the fact that this happened at all. You may have solved the problem like a leader, Chaggie, but a leader wouldn’t have gotten them into this kind of trouble in the first place.”

“Li wasn’t supposed to be there,” Chagatai prodded Wenbo with his elbow.

“Y-yeah!” Wenbo supported. “He came on his own volition - that wasn’t our fault. If anything, maybe we could give him some praise for his tracking skills?” Wenbo proposed with a smirk.

“No, I don’t think we will,” Xiaoli snapped.

“I know I did wrong,” Chagatai flourished, “And I accept the blame for that-- what else is there?”

“That’s-” Hermes pursed her lips, “Not the point. I’m glad you can see that you did wrong, but the question is… will you two do it again?”

Wenbo shook his head. “No, of course not - once, uhm, twice was more than enough. There is nothing up in this mountains but devils and--”

“Wenbo!” Xiaoli boomed and the boy appeared at least ten years younger for a moment. “Will you do it again or not?”

Wenbo felt his nose burn a little. He sat up again and cleared his throat as tiny droplets formed in the corners of his eyes. “N-no, mother,” he said staring down. Chagatai sat pale next to him, the table in a resounding silence.

Hermes sighed, “But do you know what you shouldn’t do again, hm? Is it clear what exactly you did wrong? Is it?”

“We went to the mountains--”

“No!” Hermes loudly corrected, “You disobeyed us. Exploration, adventure, all these curiosities… I can support. I want you all to be as free as you desire, but you are still our children and you have to trust that we put up these restrictions for a reason. You have to respect us enough to follow our rules, and you didn’t do that and as a result the VERY REASON we say these things happened, how do you think that makes us feel?”

Chagatai was silent, doing his best to hold in tears. Hermes sighed hot air through her nose, “Is that clear?”

“Y-yes, mom,” Wenbo mumbled somberly as the tears finally began to roll. “... W-we won’t do it again.” He was silent for a moment. “S-sorry, I’m not feeling so hungry… Can I go to my room?”

“Oh no,” Hermes shook her head, “Not just yet.” She looked over at Xiaoli, who gave her a tiny nod. She sucked in a breath, “I know it is Ai’s week to babysit Temüjin and help in the kitchen, but I’m shifting that to you and Chagatai… for two weeks. Temüjin and cleanup is now your duty.”

“What!?” Chagatai went to throw his hands up but was knocked back into his seat by a glare from Xiaoli. Hermes closed her eyes and sighed.

“I’m not finished.” She pursed her lips for a while, as if figuring out her next words, “Once the two weeks are over… a few times a week I’ll be taking you two with me during my explorations. I hope maybe this way, I can sait that dreamer curiosity of yours.”

Chagatai gave Wenbo a look of both annoyance and glee, split between his punishment and his boon. Wenbo returned similar expressions, a contrasting grimace of a flat mouth and raised eyebrows. He shrugged a little and bowed his head. “Alright - that seems fair,” he said.

“Don’t rely too much on Laia. She will tell me if you don’t do your job in the kitchen, understood?” Xiaoli gave Laia a nod and she returned it with a loyal, determined look.

Hermes coughed, “Also no dessert tonight,” She brought a cut of duck to her lips and gave her twins a look, forcing a groan from Chagatai and Wenbo. Hermes nodded and plopped the duck into her mouth. After swallowing, and as chatter started at the table again, she leaned into Xiaoli’s ear.

“How was that?”

Xiaoli gave her a thumbs-up. “Personally, I would have gone for three weeks, but I feel their morale already has suffered a heavy hit. Nice plan, dear.” She pecked a small kiss on Hermes cheek and sighed. “... I really hope they’ll learn now…”

"Well that was exciting!" Arya said after a moment.

Laurien then cleared her throat and said, "What's for dessert?"

Xiaoli brushed the frown off her face and smiled. “We’re having leftovers from yesterday’s sweetgrass pudding.” Wenbo wrinkled his nose enviously and Chagatai slapped his own face.

“Oh delicious!” Hermes hummed, a crackle sounding form her hair. She patted Xiaoli’s hand, “She knows how to spoil a crowd.” Xiaoli smiled warmly. “Why, there is naturally only one way to welcome home our two daughters, right?”

"You're going to love this Laurien. It's soooo good." Arya said excitedly.

"Sweetgrass? Is that grass… Which is sweet?" Laurien questioned innocently.

“Named it myself,” Hermes smiled wide and pushed her plate away, before she could sit up, Ansong suddenly shot from her seat.

“I can get it!”

Altansarnai also stood up, except her wicked grin contrasted Ansong’s innocent suggestion, “Me too!”

“No, allow me,” Laia said and stood up, seemingly determined to win back her pride.

Xiaoli giggled. “Alright, why don’t you three go get it together, hmm?”

Laia put her hands on her hips. “But mother, the bowl’s small enough for one person to carry.”

Xiaoli shrugged. “All of you seem pretty eager - the energy expense of running to the kitchen should do you some good, anyway - especially Altan.”

Altansarnai looked as if she was about to say something, but then suddenly jolted, her blue hair exploding into a plume as she sprinted towards the kitchen.

“Last one there cleans the table!”

“You know that’s not how that works!” Ansong shouted after her, getting up from her place gingerly and puffing out her already round cheeks. Laia hastened after.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Hermes gave her a soft smile, “Take your time.”

Temüjin suddenly made a burping noise and began to reach for Hermes. Xiaoli snickered quietly and pulled him out of her robes. “Looks like a little someone misses mommy. Here, would you take him for a minute while I clean the tables?”

Hermes took Temujin and sat him on her lap. The toddler giggled happily and clapped his hands. The dreamer patted Xiaoli’s back, “Why don’t you wait until we are done with dessert, love?”

As if on cue, Altansarnai came running from the kitchen, a distraught Ansong and Laia at her heels as she giggled madly, a streak of red on the corner of her mouth. Hermes furrowed her brow but it was Xiaoli who rocketed to her feet, gripped Altansarnai by the arm and gave her a stern frown. “Altan, where’s the pudding?”

“In the bowl!” She chirped in surprise. Peeking into the ceramic bowl, the pudding was indeed there, as was a long finger mark.

Xiaoli sighed. “Next time use a spoon, at least. Put it on the table, please. Everyone! Dessert’s here!” As the children all cheered, Wenbo raised his hand.

“Uhm… Mother, since we’re not getting any, can we leave the table, please?”

Xiaoli frowned at him, looked down at the pudding and blew some hot air out her nose. “I’m tempted to say no, but making you watch your siblings eat pudding is a bit cruel - make sure to clean up after yourselves, okay?”

Wenbo smiled and nodded as he collected his plate, cup and chopsticks. “Chaggie, you wanna come?”

“Yeah,” The small warrior shoved the last of his food he was picking at into his mouth and swallowed hard. He bowed his head to Hermes and Xiaoli before running off with his dishes.

Arya watched as Laurien tried the sweetgrass pudding, her sister taking a spoonful much to small for her and placing it inside her mouth. For a moment there was nothing, and then a wolfish smile erupted across her face. She sighed again and said, ”This is divine, ladies. How did you ever come up with the recipe?”

"Oh you know," Hermes idled, "Xiaoli loves sweets and I love Xiaoli… also a certain book had a good pudding recipe." She chuckled at her own joke.

“And it made life here approach one step closer to Heaven,” Xiaoli mused with a smile of bliss as she put a spoonful of pudding in her mouth. “I’ll teach it to you someday, how about that?”

Laia raised her hand. “Mother, can I try teaching her?” Xiaoli gave her a proud smile and caressed her head.

“Laia, you’re an amazing little cook, but… How to say this, your puddings are still a bit too liquidy. With a bit more training, though, you should be fine.”

“Oh… Okay,” Laia said with a hung head.

"Liquidy or not, I would love to be taught by you, Laia." Laurien said smiling at the small girl.

Laia beamed and gave Xiaoli a pleading look. The river girl rolled her eyes playfully. “Alright, alright - if your sister’s so eager, then I guess there’s no helping it. Just don’t use up all the eggs, please. They’re a bit of a hassle to collect.”

“Yes, mother!” Laia voiced in all haste and sped over to Laurien. “Let’s go, let’s go!”

"Oh! Okay!" Laurien said, getting to her feet. "Lead the way Lady Laia."

“No, no, we just had some - you can make it later. Tomorrow, for example,” Xiaoli suggested. Laia huffed.

“But mother, I wanna show her!”

Xiaoli gave Laurien a look. “Is it alright with you? Sure you haven’t had your filling of pudding yet?”

Laurien winked at Xiaoli then said, "It's fine with me, I'm quite content." she mused.

“Alright,” she sighed, “Go on.”

Laia grabbed Laurien by the hand and began to eagerly pull her towards the kitchens. "My, what a strong grip!" Laurien laughed as Laia led her away. Arya watched as her sister left, a smile on her face.

"So Arya," Hermes finally said, a smile buzzing on her face as she finished off a spoon of her pudding, "Want to set up the plans for your new house with Xiaoli and I tomorrow?"

Arya turned to Hermes, her eyes lighting up. "Oh that'd be wonderful. I'm sure Laurien would appreciate a bed her size, instead of a tree." she giggled.

"She certainly is a tall one," Hermes chuckled, "And here I thought you were the tall one around here."

"Who knows? I've noticed you both are much shorter than I remember, so I must be growing still. But I don't think I'll reach her height." Arya mused.

"Hm," Hermes frowned slightly, "I did notice that. oh well, you'll have to help with the hunt is all-- she's a bit too big. Maybe she will have a better time with the tree-eaters, she just has to take Chaggie or WenWen with her."

Arya nodded. "Ah hunting, that's always fun. Unless you are the one being hunted." she said going silent. She then blinked and said, "They got in some trouble yeah? The twins?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry you had to sit through that," Hermes nodded and pushed an empty bowl away from herself.

"Don't even worry about it. I'm used to seeing discipline. It's good to see it here, your outnumbered after all." she said with a laugh.

"It isn't the first time," Hermes winked and slapped her pant leg, right above the deep scar on her calf. She sighed, "but no, they are all very well behaved considering their parentage." She blinked a few times.

"All right, kids, time to clean the table." She looked over at Xiaoli, "Thank you for dinner, love."

"Boys will be boys." Arya sighed. She turned to Xiaoli and said "That was very good Mom. It hit the spot."

Xiaoli smiled and waved dismissively. "A mother's duty, after all." She stacked a few bowls into a small tower. "So, Arya, what's the plan going forward? Any more adventures?"

"There is no plan, mother." she said happily. "I'm staying home for the time being, I don't have the heart to go anywhere else right now, I've been away long enough." she said standing up, looking at all the children and her mothers. Somewhere Laurien was learning to cook and the twins were being twins.

"Home." she said aloud to no one and then began to help clean up.

---

A blood curdling scream broke the evening bird song. There was a flash of soft blue and the flourish of an elegant dress as a woman fell from the balcony, her body slamming into the garden walkway below with a loud crack. Screams clouded the gardens as guards came clunking over, dropping their polearms. An elderly servant came sprinting out from inside the palace, a ghastly horror in his eyes as he skidded over to the empress. Her scanned her still eyes, the look of betrayal frozen in her dead face, until finally his eyes snapped to her pregnant belly.

“Knife!” He yelled, his voice shaking with adrenaline, “kniiiiiiiiiiife!”

The guards seemed dumbstruck as the servant screamed, eventually wrenching a dagger from one of their belts. With an uncharacteristically steady hand he plunged the dagger into the side of the dead lady’s abdomen, summoning a gush of blood. Her pulled the blade down, creating a c-section before plunging his hands into the fresh gore. His eyes were blazed with determination as onlookers squealed and shouted and cried and vomited. He gingerly pulled his hands out of her ripped open stomach, a baby in his fingers.

The small child gurgled angrily, coated in blood but otherwise unharmed. A grim smile, more of one of stress than relief cracked the old man’s face. He mouthed the prince’s name and the world seemed to freeze. Colours of bile and gore all over, he gingerly placed the screaming baby into Hermes’ hands.

She was kneeling, her body stiff and frozen, her hands out and waiting as the weight was added to her shaking hands, her eyes wide with horror. She wanted to scream but her mouth was a straight line. Ahead the baby wriggled in her hands, but the scene was gone. She knelt in nothingness. It was just her, the baby, and the masked figure in the distance.

It stood there silently, just a speck on the empty horizon, and yet she could feel its terrible gaze through its blank mask. The baby screamed and her ears throbbed, her heart matching. Slowly the baby melted in her hands, leaving her in a pool of fear. She blinked.

The masked stranger was right in front of her. She could not move her head, but her eyes were stuck on its blank mask, a cold chill shocking her system. It felt as if a bottomless pit had replaced her stomach as it stared in supreme silence.

A lump formed in Hermes throat and she choked on a tear. Slowly the warm flow of blood began to dribble from her eyes, sobs echoing in the emptiness. Runes began to dance behind the masked figure, but she couldn’t make them out. She cried, and she cried, red rivulets contrasting her pale skin as it drained from her sobbing eyes.

---

Chagatai yelled, “Mom!?” His voice was a deep baritone as he came charging across the courtyard. His mother was kneeling in the center of the courtyard in complete silence, a gentle blue sky above. The man shook Hermes’ shoulder but she didn’t respond, her eyes wide with terror as she knelt, frozen. He could see the tears trapped behind her eyes and he bit his lip, “I’ll go get help.” He whispered to her before jumping to his feet and sprinting into one of the other buildings. In seconds he came bursting back out, his thick muscled arms pushing Xiaoli towards Hermes.

“I just got here and she was like-” Chagatai began to explain hastily, “This.”

“HERMES!” Xiaoli exclaimed and slid down next to her, quickly patting around on her body and face to inspect her for ailments with a desperate sheen in her eyes. “Hey, Hermes! Hermes, it’s me! It’s Xiaoli! Can you hear me? Hello?!” Like Chagatai had, Xiaoli began to shake her wife in an anxious attempt to stir life back into her, but she stayed frozen, her body bouncing back to its sitting position, eyes ever wide.

---

Bubbles formed around Hermes as she stared at the figure. Muffled sounds panged against them, as if she were underwater. She knelt in a pool of her crimson tears, the flow of blood unending as she stared at the figure. It held out a hand and a blast of wind dried her eyes. Her baby twins appeared behind the figure, then the rest of her children, and their children, and then so many faces she didn’t recognize. Pyramiding into the distant horizon the army of Dreamers stood staring at her lifelessly, mouthing an ancient word. Her heart began to seize.

---

“Mom!” Chagatai forced one of Hermes’ hands out of her lap, but it sprung back. He grabbed it again and held it close to his spun shirt, gripping it tight. He looked over at Xiaoli with worry and then suddenly Hermes sucked in a massive breath. Her fingers wrapped around his arm and she squeezed. She shut her eyes and blunk a few times, loose tears being pushed out from the blink. She looked over at Xiaoli, still in shock.

Her wife's face blurred into view, as did the colorful buildings behind her, the crooked trees, and the azure blue sky. And yet, there was still a hole in her stomach and a chill in her veins. She went to speak but only croaked a dry breath.

"Are you okay?" Chagatai slowly helped Hermes to her feet, "What happened?"

"Y-yeah," She wrapped her cloak around herself, shivering.

Xiaoli placed herself in front of her and grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her into a tight embrace. “Oh, Hermes, my love, what happened?!” She squeezed nearly to the point of suffocation.

Hermes furrowed her brow, sinking into Xiaoli’s body in search of warmth, “I don’t know… is everyone okay?” A deep pang resounded in her chest and she shivered. Chagatai stared at his parents for a moment.

“Everyone is fine, mom,” He cocked his head, “Altan is home with the boys, all healthy and plump, just as Mother Xiaoli ordered.” He pushed a smile and Hermes forced one in return. Her hand found Xiaoli’s and she squeezed it.

“It’s probably just stress, I can feel it in my chest,” She rubbed her chest as if to punctuate her meaning, “I saw the masked man again.”

Xiaoli pulled away with a mouth like a line and a pair of worried eyebrows. “The one from before?”

“Yeah,” Hermes’ eyes turned serious.

“Masked man?” Chagatai asked.

“A figure I see in my dreams… well not usually. But off and on for decades now.” Hermes explained, “First when you and Wen-Wen were babies, again when you were little kids… and now. But these…” She looked at Chagatai’s worried expression and pushed his shoulder, “These you shouldn’t worry about, baby. It’s a dream, we are dreamers… it’s what we do.”

Chagatai gave her an unsure smile, and Hermes forced a wide grin, “What did you need?”

“Oh? Oh!” He looked over at the basket he had dropped when he ran over, “I was just getting some spices, Mother had already packed them and I was on my way out when I saw you-”

“It’s okay,” Hermes smiled, “I think I’ll just have some water and relax for the rest of the day-- get home with those spices before Altan takes it as permission to do the cooking herself.” Chagatai grimaced and looked over at Xiaoli, who gave him an approving nod. Sucking in a breath he nodded.

“Okay, but send Poppler the moment you need me.” He eyed both of them and Hermes shook her head.

“Don’t worry, Chaggie, please,” Hermes went on tiptoes and kissed his blue-streaked cheek, “Go get home now.” She paused, “Safely!”
“Now who’s worrying,” Chagatai smirked and backed away to his discarded basket of spices. He hooped it around his arm and pointed at his parents, “I’ll stop by tomorrow after the hunt, no more weird dreams!”

As he exited the mansion, Xiaoli shook her head. “He’s our son, you know. He’ll be worried sick for the whole night.” Xiaoli wrapped her arms around Hermes’ waist from behind and rested her head against her back. “You sure it’s not something you’re eating? We could get Wenbo - he might know.”

Hermes put her hands over Xiaoli’s and sighed, “For nearly forty years?” She shook her head, “They are getting worse, more vivid… I can still feel it. Almost like it-” She froze, a glimpse of white flickering outside the gate.

“Like it followed me home.”

Xiaoli sighed melancholically. “Is there no cause that you can think of? No mushrooms or anything?” She pulled away. “Is it a message from the Exalted Creators, you think?”

“I don’t know,” Hermes scrunched her nose, “But I don’t feel very good, I can tell you that much.”

Xiaoli leaned her face on a fist and huffed. “I’d tell you to go to sleep, but that probably wouldn’t do much… Have you tried to speak to Father K’nell?”

“I-- no,” She admitted and squirmed, “I could try, maybe tomorrow? I’m already exhausted plenty over this.” She snuck forward a bit, creeping towards the gate.

Xiaoli grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “H-hey, where are you going?”

“I thought I saw something,” Hermes whispered and tugged Xiaoli against the wall. She peeked out. “I wish I had my club,” She muttered as she poked her head through the portal.

Xiaoli furrowed her brow and sniffed. “Sweetgrass, your club is in your study - where you always put it.”

“I know,” Hermes affirmed and slipped through the gate. She stopped, her body dropped in a sort of offensive stance, but nothing was there. Her brow furrowed and she looked back and forth, eyes scanning the trees.

“Nothing.”

“Hermes.”

“What-” Hermes turned to face Xiaoli and yelped, a large masked face an inch from hers. She flung herself backwards to the ground, her heart pounding. She blinked, and Xiaoli was standing in front of her.

“You- you spooked me,” Hermes stammered.

Xiaoli recoiled a bit, too, then made a determined frown. “Alright, that’s it. You are -not- well. I don’t care what Father K’nell is doing. We are seeing him this instant.” She stormed towards Hermes and reached out to grab her hand.

Hermes snapped her hand back, “I’m fine, really. I’m just a little shaken up is all; If you saw something stalking outside the walls after a bad dream, you’d check too.”

“Hermes, you’re not fine - you just ran away from me as if I was a wild devil - me, your wife, a woman who loves you with all her heart and life.” She sniffed and cleared her throat. “No, no, we are going to see Him and I am -not- taking no for an answer.”

Hermes seemed stalwart, “We are going to see him? How?”

“W-well, prayer’s worked before, right? Let’s ask him to come over!” Xiaoli strolled in the direction of the northern side of the mansion, where they long ago had built a small shrine to K’nell. Hermes crossed her arms and followed Xiaoli reluctantly.

“I’m telling you,” She said, “He will say I’m just stressed too, really should we bother a god over something like this?” They stopped in front of the shrine and Xiaoli came to an abrupt halt. She took an agitated breath of air through the nose and crossed her arms over her bosom.

“What will do you if we don’t get help, hmm? Go back to sleep and experience the exact same thing? Hermes, this is like when Temüjin refused to get his foot checked because he could ‘just walk it off’. Thank the Gods we had wine to disinfect the wound…” She shook her head. “This is nothing to be stubborn about!”

“But I am stubborn,” Hermes gave Xiaoli a pleading face with big black eyes that suddenly grew sparkles of gold.

“I know you are and that’s not a good thing!” Another breath. Xiaoli leaned her head on her hand and closed her eyes. “Just… Can we at least ask Him? You know how much it pains me to see you like this.”

Hermes’ eyes switched back to their normal black and she sighed, “Fine… if it’ll help, then sure.”

Xiaoli’s smile slowly grew back and she squeezed one of Hermes’ hands. “Okay, then.” The two knelt down before the shrine and Xiaoli went down on her hands as well. “O Holiest of Being, great Sovereign of Sleep, K’nell, dear Father - if it does not inconvenience You, we are in need of Your counsel.”

A dark miasma seeped from the shrine and with a crack of thunder, a cloud formed over the pair. It’s rolling sheets of darkness turned white and plush, showering a certain favor down. A crow cawed in the distance and glided over to the shrine, landing on it with shadowy feathers. It cawed twice and as it went for a third, a grainy voice swirled instead.

“Your words will not go unheard, my dears. Please… speak your mind.”

Xiaoli let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank the Gods, You came. H-Hermes isn’t feeling well at all - she keeps talking about this masked man, and--... Well, it’s impacting her even when awake. Would you like to explain some more, dear?” Xiaoli squeezed Hermes’ shoulder affectionately.

“I’m having terrible dreams, of a masked man who wears feathers and beads. I see runes, and scenes I could never imagine… I wake up feeling terrible, and the emotions I feel in my dreams stay with me when I’m awake… even now I feel a hole in my belly filled with gushing anxiety and curling-- I’m not even sure, sadness?”

There was pause and the cloud dissipated into the sky, revealing nothing but the blue azure above. The crow cocked its head and pecked at the shrine, and just as they began to worry K’nell had left, his voice swirled around them.

“You have had these dreams for many years, I know this. I did not exactly make these dreams for you, and I cannot exactly tell you who has -- I know how and who, do not mistake my hesitation for ignorance. My dear Hermes, I am sorry this ailment has befallen you, but know that it is… simply because there is more to you than most realize, more to all the dreamers.”

The voice stopped for a moment, “With your permission, dears, I’d like to conduct a test-- to see if Hermes is ready to confront what has been growing alongside her all these years.”

Hermes’ brow furrowed and she looked at Xiaoli, “O-of course!”

Xiaoli frowned. “If-if I may ask, what does the test entail?”

“I am simply going to show Hermes and you an image of the sky… but feel free to comfort each other as you see fit.”

Hermes made a face, “Sounds easy enough.” But her hand betrayed her anxiety as it latched onto Xiaoli’s tightly. Xiaoli smiled reassuringly, but her hand was too sweaty to denote calmness.

The crow cawed four times and suddenly flew away, leaving the pair all alone by the shrine. The wind blew over the walls and dragged its crisp cloak over the two as they waited. The sky above remained a plain blue, but the familiar yet distant smell of an autumn’s night shook from the trees that surrounded the estate. The leaves rustled a song that had no words, yet was more than nostalgic. A strange feeling grappled Xiaoli, similar to the first time she had entered the forest, and a glance over to Hermes showed that she wasn’t alone. The dreamer clutched her chest, a cracking cold filling her heart and causing her legs to shiver.

The song of the leaves increased in volume, the wind adding its chorus, and then all at once the orchestra of the past clamored a great boom and the sky broke in half -- the dark black of a moonless midnight pushing the blue away. A nebula of stars winked down, covered only by the see-through winds and the chill of night. Hermes fingers crushed Xiaoli’s as her chest tightened and eyes widened. She stared upwards as if her very soul was threatening to spill from her eyes and be swallowed by the night sky above. Tears began to stain her cheek as she stared, mouth opened and muttering wordlessly. Slowly a strange accent broke from her throat.

“Kuranell.”

Her voice was shaky, threatening to scream.

“Kuranell.”

The fear radiating from her was palpable. Her voice pitched, about to crack.

“Kuranell.”

“H-hey, Hermes?” Xiaoli whispered and attempted to get closer to her and wrap her arms around her shoulders.

A push of wind exited Hermes’ mouth and she turned to Xiaoli, eyes scanning the sky behind her, “They’re all gone.” Her words were cryptic and accented, “The trees took them away.” She began to cry, “They have to bite their tongues.”

“Your Holiness, w-what is she saying?” Xiaoli demanded anxiously as she waved her hands in front of Hermes’ eyes.

The sky cracked and the blue took it back from the night. Groaning erupted over the forest as the trees halted their swaying and the wind quickly hid away. All that was left was the timid chirp of confused birds, the two lovers, and one swirling voice.

“I’m afraid she hasn’t said much of anything,” K’nells voice answered, “Much is happening inside of her as we speak, and if she is to do away with it all… she must venture to Limbo, enter it, and confront what is causing her ailment. I cannot reveal too much to her nor you but I will say: her mortal mind has crossed thresholds it was not meant to in the dreamscape, a trait inherent to all dreamers and thus her sickness is not exclusive to her. To ensure--”

“My children,” Hermes suddenly said, worry in her eyes as she seemed to snap from a trance. A sleeve came up to wipe her already drying tears, “They are in danger.”

There was a pregnant pause and then K’nell continued.

“Travel well into Limbo, and you will find all your answers and all your solutions… but it will not be easy, nor safe; however this is something that you must do. You have my favor, and I will be at the end of every one of your prayers, doing all I can without intervening too heavily in this delicate situation.”

Hermes held her head as she pondered the words. She pinched the bridge of her nose and looked over at Xiaoli, she went to say something but sucked in a stressed breath instead.” She looked back to where the voice had hung, “Will my children be safe while I do this?”

“They will be.” The voice answered.

Hermes let out a long breath, “Then I only have one thing to lose.”

“You won’t lose me, dear,” Xiaoli said with a wink. “I’m much more durable than you, after all. But… Limbo...”

Hermes put her hand on Xiaoli’s shoulder, “I meant… me.” She gave her a sad smile.

”POP!” A cloudling came rushing out of Hermes’ study’s window and crackled between the two.

“Oh, Hermes, I know you did. Don’t worry - death will not claim you while I still exist. I’ll keep you safe.” She leaned her head on Hermes’ chest and let out a soft sigh that pushed Poppler away. “Always.”

Hermes smiled and kissed the top of Xiaoli’s head, “I know, love.”

”Zzt!”

“I-- uh.. Know Poppler,” Hermes made a face and looked back at the shrine, “Thank you. For everything.”

“Do not thank me yet, dear.” The voice swirled, “A journey lays ahead of you, and while it may seem daunting, or even impossible at some turns, know that the goal is yours. Good luck, and do not despair at the mysteries of the gods, all will be made apparent.” With that, a certain weight seemed to leave the area, as if hinting at the absence of the god.

“So… Limbo again, then?” Xiaoli said carefully.

"There isn't much choice," Hermes tucked in her lower lip and chewed on it anxiously, staring into the distance, "I'll need my sandals, and my club. It's been a long time since I've been on such an adventure." She made a face, and Xiaoli could read the eagerness between her anxiety, "Very long time."

“Well,” Xiaoli began with a smile. “Do you feel like you could reawaken that wanderlust of old?”

"In the words of an old adventuring friend of mine," Hermes looked at Xiaoli sternly, optimism hidden in her eyes.

"Pop."

The mortals would have to wait. That wicked goddess… He knew she was insane, but this… To do this - to -HIS- people, no less! Such utter disrespect for siblings could not be forgiven. As he had told his servants, war would come, indeed.

Yet now, the snake cursed himself - Azura’s attack on the mortal races could not have come at a less convenient time. An alliance, torn in half, with himself to blame. Well, not entirely, but he owed it to himself to criticise his own recklessness in the ordeal. The snake dug his face into his right palm. The flight back to the Foot had been quick and motivated by a rage-fueled haste - the Atokhekwoian mortals would have to bear with his absence for a little longer. Naturally, the threat of attack from Satravius and Ekon were already gnawing at his mind, but what they killed would at least return to the world in the form of fuel for new life.

No, no… Azura was a much greater threat.

He had as such hastened back to the Foot to assure himself that the Alma had not infested it. He knew there were no mortals there yet, but perhaps they had attempted to poison the minds of lesser life. His plans for prosperity could not allow for such an interruption. No, he would have to strike back somehow… Usher in an age of growth and birth that could lead to more lives - longer lives.

Perhaps enough to overwhelm her.

The snake stopped his vicious train of thought. No - he would not bring himself so low as to force the life of this universe into this disgusting conflict, all in the name of prosperity.

No - an age of growth and birth would come, indeed, but it would not be a weapon against his maddened sister. No, it would not be a weapon at all - it would be his gift to all life. The greatest seasons of all, he would claim as his own - a time when life would bloom in swathes of colours, forms and scents. Throughout the year, in many floral forms, food for all of Galbar and existence would sprout from the ground and--

Or… Perhaps a concentrated effort would be better?

Yes… Yes, the snake could see it now. Naturally, some growths would bloom several times throughout the year, but no season would be as great and magnificent as the autumn. It would be a brotherhood of two times:

The Great Spring, when the crops would be sown by wind and limb and allowed to grow throughout the warm summers;

The Grand Harvest, when the crops would be grown after months of work and labour and finally consumed by its predators. They would sprout like a cereal sea, a plain of grains, covering the horizon with green and yellow, exclaiming to all life upon Galbar that they would not go hungry this winter. Yes… YES! The snake felt his heart thunder with excitement.

Naturally, the plants would benefit as well; after all, theirs would be a blissful and plentiful existence - one would be a fool not to participate in the great spreading of these food plants. Animal life, mortal life, nature itself - all would contribute to their growth for the betterment of all creation. A thought occurred: Would it not be grand to fashion for this world a tool to aid in this supremest of seasons? Something that would shine an even brighter light upon this top of times? This pinnacle of periods?

Indeed, it would be grand.

The snake summoned a servant with the snap of his fingers. He Bo entered into his chambres a figurative second later and kowtowed.

“His Lordship called?”

The snake raised his hand. “Loyal He Bo…” He gestured out his doorways to the landscape surrounding Nanhe. “Tell me, is this jungle not the greatest feat of godhood?”

“Without a doubt in the world, it is,” the servant replied.

“Then tell me, should its guardian not see to it that its inhabitants were fed and cared for in bountiful bliss?”

“As the Flow dictates, he should,” the servant replied.

“And does not this principle translate to all of creation, as the guardian is not a mere river spirit, but a god tasked with bringing prosperity to the world?”

“As His Lordship reaches out, prosperity follows,” the servant replied.

The snake nodded. “As the world fills with life, this life must be fed and protected. I have a plan, worthy one - a plan that will add an additional rock on the great pyramid of fortune: I will take the mantle of responsibility over the blooms and sprouts that make up the diet of mortals and beasts, and I will see to it that all upon this world that see it fit to rely on these plants be given wealth in food and safety for when the icy winters strike.”

The servant pressed its head even lower. “A suggestion to be celebrated, Your Lordship. However, will this declaration not anger His Lordship’s sister, the sacred guardian of the forest, Phystene?”

The snake pressed his lips together, but his gaze remained stalwart and proud. “My dearest sister Phystene has no heart for wealth. She understands the need for growth and consumption, but not for the value of this system to a society. She may see the value of a season of plenty, but little would she care for that season’s intent to further mortalkind.” He shook his head. “No, I am confident that this is a niche that, at best, will not bother her and, at worst, may only mildly upset her.”

“Understood, Your Lordship,” He Bo said faithfully.

“Now, as for why I summoned you, worthy one - I require a stick of wood and a handful of clay.”

“At once, Your Lordship,” He Bo said and disappeared out the door.

He would need to spend some time learning the language and ways of plantlife, naturally, but he would also need another edge in the upcoming war.

… Maybe he could try to make a warrior like Anu?

The room pulsed. White light glimmered over the opaque shadows, dispelling them and revealing grey-blue stonework. Once again in five points K’nell had placed dream orbs, each hovering over a pedestal, whirring and pulsing their glow. In the center of the star, there was a great ripple of light, just as before, with K’nell standing in front of it. His fingers deftly slipped through the light, hooking ethereal threads and incorporeal strings. He pushed and pulled them, weaving them into a pattern hidden by the mind numbing light. The birth of Diana had pushed his project closer than he had expected, and he could feel things starting to fall into place.

A tiny smile cracked his lips and he began to hum a melody, the grain of his voice giving it a veneer of experience and mystery all in one. He tugged a particularly stubborn strand, and reality seemed to shimmer around him for a moment. He paused and the sparkle of light fell back into the rhythmic pulse of the orbs. As his fingers worked his mind idled on different things, his vast army of crows feeding him endless streams of information. He made a curious face at some of the images and sounds the crows relayed, smiled at a few others, and threw in a few frowns for good measure.

Snaking one hand out of the ripple of light, he waved it at nothing in particular and the images stopped flowing, leaving his mind alone with his own ponderings. There was so much to think about, and unlike eons ago, things happen much quicker than before, forcing him to prioritize his thoughts. He let his hands fall from the ripple of light and tapped his clean shaven chin, “Prioritization.” He gave a single humorless ‘ha’ and returned his hands to the ripple, the room suddenly blooming with spots of every bit of color imaginable, plus a few new ones.

“Such a word is hardly known on Galbar” He mused as he tinkered, “Then again, I’m hardly on Galbar.”

“Orvus,” He thought to himself, the images of his last encounter flashing by his mind. He nodded to himself, hoping that the god managed to figure out the true purpose of his gift, and not just the obvious one. His raised his brows and the image of Orvus shifted to that of Azura and her birds, images he knew very well despite never personally meeting her. His crows have heard many stories and opinions on the god… K’nell let his brow fall as he worked on a particularly hesitant thread of light.

“Oh, Azura,” he shook his head, “A heart of gold, but then again, find me a god who doesn’t think their soul is silver and ideas as solid as diamond.” He looked at a mirror that leaned against the wall and smirked.

“There’s a hypocrites’ smile,” He charmed before turning back to his work. He scrunched his brow as he worked; perhaps it was intrinsic to his sphere, a boon acquired from his specialty, but to him, there always seemed to be so many roads and so many strings --almost too many strings-- to only pull one and assume --He yanked a strand of wispy gold-- that it was the only or even the best string. He watched a cloud of glowing light pulse on the other side of the ripple, “Or that the effects of a choice be so simple and clear.”

“Or perhaps,” He thought on, “There is no other choice, or perhaps too few choices.” He thoughts turned to Ashalla, and then to Narzhak,“[i]That there is a certain complexity in the simplicity, or perhaps it really is all that simple.” He smiled, knowing very well that there buzzed a law that even a man of dreams knew to be true, that it is usually the simplest of answers that holds the answer. He cocked a brow, “But at what point do you fall from humility in your choice, and are just plain proud.”

“Then I suppose you could be too prudent as well, too invested in finding every option that you forget what you were talking about to begin with,” He said out loud to nothing at all. He pulled back from the ripple of light, the glowing sun a melody of color. He tucked a hand under his elbow and pinched his chin.

“So I suppose, the answer to this equation is simple,” He watched the ripple, “You cannot have one without the other, and I suppose you’d have to find a certain balance to make sure that you know exactly what is what. But that is the beauty of the dream,” He smiled, “You can have one without the other…”

“Unless…” His eyes flickered with the light.

“You want something else entirely…” A cheshire grin overtook his face.

WHOOM!

The ripple suddenly exploded with a rush, engulfing K’nell in all its splendor. As the flood of color overtook the palace, it grew dark and dim. Runes floated in its miasma as it curled into lines of wicked poetry. The great wonder of the dark tsunami shook the dreamscape…

---

Limbo began to shake and the weavers that floated around it suddenly turned a scarlet red. With an explosive blast, a dark pillar of miasma erupted from the stone platform, rocketing to the sky. It slammed into the heavens with a tremendous force, blasting the night sky with a unsettling shiver. All around Galbar, the sleeping suddenly began to jerk, and began to scream, and began to cry. The realm of the sleeping broke into a chorus of horror, fit with an orchestra of shrieks and a symphony of anxious whimpers.

… True nightmares have been born.

---

...The initial great wave of terror never seemed to touch those who bore the spiral…

---

Diana suddenly stood up. Her umbrella slid off of her and thunked into the wet grass below. Her boots scuffed and she turned every which way, surrounded by a grove of trees -- a gentle river babbling nearby. Her sickly eyes seemed enticed and a smile stretched over her jagged teeth. Slowly her gaze fell to Karamir, the sleeping mortal jerking in his sleep, sweat beading at his temples. A giddy grin and a single clap erupted from Diana, the avatar nearly hopping in place.

“Karamir!” She kicked the man out of his sleep, his eyes popping as they escaped horror.

Karamir shot up into a sitting position, his hand lunging for a branch that lay nearby, only to pause when he realized there was no actual danger. “Agh… wh-what!?” he demanded.

“What, what,” Diana mocked with a wave of her hand, “Can’t break you from that, can I?” She shook her head and waved her arms, “But no, don’t you feel it?” She smiled wide, eyes shifting over his face, looking for signs of his nightmare.

“Whatever do you mean?” Karamir asked, recalling the lessons he had been repeatedly nagged and pestered about.

“Oh dear, oh dear,” Diana scooted around Karamir, “Do mortals really not feel that? A new wing of the palace has been awakened. I can taste it in the air, I could feel it ‘oozing’ from you as you slept.” She closed her eyes as if picturing something, “The symphony was masterful, and you’re telling me you couldn’t even hear it?”

Karamir scratched his head in confusion. “That dream was the worst one yet, but you’ve been giving me nightmares ever since we met. There was something special about this one?”

Diana’s jaw hung in astonishment, “Karamir, that’s probably the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.” She hugged herself and smiled smugly, “To think you couldn’t even tell the difference.”

“So what does this mean, then?” he questioned.
“It means I can go home, dear” Diana smiled wide, “And that-- well.” She thought for a moment, “It’s hard to explain, but since you’ve known me… I’ve had a small piece of myself that seemed to be missing, but I think I found it again, oh yes.”

Well, that was concerning, for more reasons than one. “Wait… go home? You’re leaving?” he asked her. Karamir did not relish the idea of her gaining what sounded like more power, but for some strange reason he also did not want her to leave.

“Well leaving is a relative term,” Diana flicked her wrist about, “Leaving this boring slab of stone? Yes.” She closed her lips and hummed in thought, “Oh my, you’ll just love it. No more sunny days, or fluffy critters -- at least not the petting kind.” She shivered.

“Love what?”

Diana blinked, “Home, Karamir, home. My, you’re a dense one.”

Karamir raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying you’re taking me somewhere?”

“Of course,” Diana rolled her eyes, “We are friends, aren’t we? It would be strange to just… leave… you stranded.” She curled a finger and bit it in thought, as if tempted.

Karamir looked around. He had already seen his fair share of dangers on this continent. From giant winged lizards to abominations of filth and metal. If left alone, his odds of survival were not great. “This ‘home’ of yours… what is it?”

"I always forget that you're a simpleton," Diana mused, "Somehow." She shook her head, "I come from the land of dreams, of course." She did a slight twirl, “Couldn’t you tell?”

“I know that, but what is it?” Karamir pressed. “Is it just endless horrors and nightmares? Is being there any different from being asleep?”

“It’s whatever I want it to be, of course,” Diana stuck her chin up, “It’s really quite easy to understand when you think about it and yes, I’d say it’s much better actually being there rather than sleeping. Not from experience of course, but my own personal…” she mulled over her words and rotated her wrist, “I’m not sure, bias? Perhaps.”

“So what happens to me when I sleep - it would just be more of that?”

“Oh my dear Karamir,” Diana pinched her brow but betrayed a toothy grin, “Your lack of eloquence is somehow as sharp as it is dull, or rather it must be because that stung. It’s not just merely pictures floating around in your head, or some sleeping side show, or maybe that’s all it is to you?” Her statement inflected a question and her eyes dug into him with an awaiting glare.

“I’m just trying to learn more about it, that’s all.” he answered, shrugging to offset his defensive tone.

“Haven’t you learned anything from your dreams?” She asked with an almost sickening innocence that Karamir had grown to be cautious around.

Karamir sighed. Getting a straight answer from her had always been difficult - so why should he expect it to be easier now? “I’m trying to find out how it’s different from my dreams. If it’s just more nightmares, but far worse, or all the time, then that isn’t a life I want to live.”

“Oh no, it’s much much better,” Daina clapped once, “Besides, what sort of life are you trying to live anyways? You squat by trees and grunt half the time, I could only imagine what life would have been like if you hadn’t met the likes of me, you know. Look at you, dashing clothes, nearly intelligible diction, and a worn weary eye to boot. I’d say it can only get better for you.” She crossed her arms.

Karamir frowned. “I think your definition of ‘better’ is different from most creatures.”

“Oh foo, there you go with your nonsense again,” Diana folded her hands, “You can’t deny how great it has been having me around, and I’m just saying we can have much more fun, but in a much more civilized land.”

Karamir squinted. “More civilized? In what way?” After all, many of the things he witnessed in his dreams could hardly count as ‘civilized.’

“For one I can introduce you to the wonders of cleaning yourself regularly,” She kept her arms crossed, “Dances, orchestras, cooked food, all of that fun and fluff.”

Karamir ruminated on the offer. He distrusted it, of course, yet he knew that staying here alone was a death sentence. And at least going with Diana would offer some change of pace from the seemingly endless wandering they had been going through previously. He removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair. How long had they been wandering? Countless winters had come and gone. He had been told he would live long, but long was not forever, and he needed to feel like he was making some sort of progress.

He sighed. “I will go… on the condition that I am allowed to safely leave whenever I want.”

"Oh you silly man," Diana cackled, "Have I ever once said you can't leave?"

“I’ve never been in a position where I could safely leave,” Karamir pointed out. “When we first met it was at sea - there was nowhere else to go. And here… this land is dangerous, and you never gave me a weapon to defend myself.”

"I gave you the best weapon of all: style and good friends," She nodded, "Now hup to! We have a home to return to." She put her hands on her hips, "Now just to remember which way it was."

Karamir rose to his feet, and then his eyes widened in fear. “Are we going to have to take another umbrella ride across the sea?”

Diana tapped her chin, "Maybe! Oh I know how much you love those." She spun and spun as if looking for something, "But we do have a schedule to keep, somewhat." She knelt down and scooped up her umbrella. She stared at it for a while and tossed it idly in her hand.

"I suppose we could fly."

”Wait…” Karamir began, before breaking off into silence. For a few seconds, he could only stare at her with his mouth agape. He clenched a fist, then unclenched it, before clenching it again. His face reddened, and it looked as though he might explode, but then he took a deep breath and appeared to calm down - though his hand remained closed. ”That was an option?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Diana blinked, "Oh my, yes." Her lips cracked into a toothy grin, "Although as you can imagine, space is a little limited."

Karamir opened his palm, and then slowly brought his hand up to meet his face. “Why didn’t you do that in the first place?” he asked, his voice still quiet.

"Oh I think you know me well enough by now," She said idly as she unfurled her umbrella with a whoosh! The brim of the umbrella seemed a lot wider than Karamir remembered and Diana flexed her fingers over the grip a few times, "Shall I be honest with you?"

Karamir dropped his hand. “Do you mean to imply that you have not been honest with me before?” he asked in an unusually dry tone. “I am shocked. But please go on.”

"Oh hush, I've never uttered a lie to you. I simply have a confession," She looked over at him and held out a hand.

Karamir stared at her outstretched hand for a moment, and then reached out to take it. Gripping her palm was cold and somehow, sweaty? Or was it so dry that it felt that way, either way the discomfort spread up his arm like a creeping spider as her fingers creaked over his. But Karamir had grown used to such sensations, and he was unphased.

"I've never flown before," She cackled as the two suddenly shot off of the ground, smashing through the canopy of the forest. Karamir’s grip tightened and his surprised yell was drowned out by the rushing wind, but this was not his first time flying, and after the initial surprise passed he was able to calm himself. As they jerked to a horizontal flight pattern, he saw a shimmer exit a hidden pocket of Diana's dress. The tiny orb slipped out, smacked him in the nose, and quickly disappeared as it plummeted to the ground.

”Agh!” he cried out, his voice suddenly nasally as drops of blood streamed from his fresh injury, landing in the forest below. Diana didn't seem to notice, or at least pretended not to as she started her little hum up again. This was going to be quite the journey.



[/hider]

Luis bathed in the freezing cold ocean waters separating the ice sheet around the north pole from north Kalgrun. It was a refreshing change after the seemingly endless trip though the sky pyres and the silent bleakness of the north pole.

On the shore icy insects and white furred mammals frolicked in the snow in between the trunks of blue leaved trees. Down in the waters of the northern ocean teemed with life. It was a joyous feeling to be surrounded by the living again, rather than the soon to be doomed souls of the dead.

While the seals, walruses and penguins where nice, who Luis was really here for where the whales. New species of them had appeared since the last time he had been at the north pole, along with the entire ecosystem they lived in, and Luis was more than happy to get to know them. Some had heard tales of him from other, older,species who still sung of the day when the great sky whale blessed the southern sea with his presence and so it has been easy to engage with them without his vast size scaring them all off.

He’d got to hear about their lives down here in the ocean while he had spoken of his journeys with Azura and all the things that had happened to him with someone who wasn't, well, Azura. It was enjoyable, but soon enough he felt the urge to return to her side. He could never quite shake the feeling that if he stayed away for too long she’d run off somewhere while he wasn't looking.

After biding his farewells Luis rose up and out of the sea, water cascading off his back, and then headed north, flying just above the frozen sea. Over the ice he flew till it grew so think that nothing could break through and surface from the ocean below. The life from Kalkun faded from view. He passed over the sculpture fields, where Winter-Spirits frolicked and competed in their yearly contest, erecting new statues in the images of distant places, people and things. Then even they were gone and only the craggy ice sheet remained. As he traveled further the world bellow dimmed and Heliopolis sank towards the southern horizon. Only once it was setting did the isle of Twilight came into view.

A ring of mountains, that Azura had once called the broken crown, stabbed up out of the ice below. They, along with the spire like north peak they surrounded, where the only notable change in elevation for kms around. Luis had seen them before but there had been additions since he left. Atop the closest tall peak to his approach a faint light suddenly intensified, as if a distant spotlight had locked onto him. The echo of trumpets echoed from the peak, a low ominous almost alien tone, as the Titan of Winds raised the alarm. Down below on the slopes of the peak thousands of smaller lights lit up as Gusts and Armonia began to also awaken or emerge from hiding.

Luis reached out with his mind and, using his god given power over soul crystal constructs, turned off this new alarm system. As quickly as they had awoken the forces of the titan slept once more, while the roaming eye of the massive construct itself turned back to watching the ice beyond. Then he flew across the mountain range and pass over the valley below. In the valley itself was his armor, still being unloaded, a process now guarded by a number of awake Armonia who patrolled the crevasse and entrance to the vault and no doubt also stood watch within the vault itself.

The Whale then turned his nose skyward, soaring up alongside the heaven piercing mountain the vault was built under. As he climbed light slowly returned, his accent bringing both Heliopolis and the Luminous Garden into view. At the top of the mountain sat the sky bastion, a fortress made of two wheels, one inside the other, that rotated around the mountain peak. It was functionally still on Galbar, as the two celestial lights in the sky where both still visible from here. The world below till cured away from them at its distant horizon rather than being rendered as an infinitely repeating map, but travel any higher, or even move out horizontally from the north peak, and he would enter the Blue proper.

Out there Luis spotted new creatures that had not been there when he left either. Here too Azura had been busy. Off in the distance a massive serpent like leviathan slithered through the sky, chasing after a herd of tusked manta rays, while nearby a long necked creature stabbed its head in and out of a shoal of sky slugs, snapping one or two up each time it struck.

Luis took a few moments to watch this rather limited ecosystem at work before the familiar voice of Azura asked “So. What do you think?”

The whale's gaze slowly rolled back to the sky bastion, where one of the doors had opened to reveal the avian goddess. She had been distracted from her experimentation on the red Armonia by Luis’s triggering of the alarm system and after checking the cause and seeing that it was him and not an army of death she had decided to take a break.

”They’re very different. What prompted this?” Luis asked. She’d never made an ecosystem before.

“I felt inspiration calling me and with the tyrant's slaughter thwarted I felt like I could indulge it a little. Plus they’ll be useful if anyone tries to come in though the Blue.” she explained

”and you were inspired to make... flying fish?” Luis asked doubtfully

“Muses work in mysterious ways Luis. Besides, you are basically a flying fish. Or fish shaped mammal anyway. Don’t judge.” Azura responded, her tone playful rather than offended.

“Is that one straight up just a tuna? Did you go down to the ocean and steal some while I was away?” he began upon spotting the quite literal flying fish, before realizing something “Can you do that with other species?”

“I didn’t, but I suppose I could? A healthy ecosystem needs variety after all and that would be a simple way to add it. Did you have something specific in mind with that question?” Azura asked

“Whales.” Luis responded with unprecedented speed.

“Whales? Oh. ohhh. Yes I can do that, it’s the least I can do in fact!” Azura responded before taking wing “I’ll be right back!” she called before blasting off down to the world below before Luis could get another word in.

---

Luis had some time to poke around while she was gone and he found her latest project, the red Armonia, with its back peeled open with various half finished magical contraptions built inside it that looks like the framework for holding soul crystals that Bruna and the Alma had. His best guess was that it was something like the Curators or Bruna, though why she was working on it when he had already seen them function down on the island below he could not say.

When Azura returned it was at the head of a huge shoal of Tonnikala. There were whales of all kinds, from Blue whales to Orcas, Beluga whales and Narwhals. Along with them where numinous pray species: Dozens of kinds of fish, small and large, where herded through the sky, as was where a number of kinds of squids, octopuses, turtles, seals, shrimp and krill. Along with all these, and almost invisible to the naked eye, where clouds of algae and plankton, the basis for most aquatic food chains, that had been modified to absorb water and nutrients from clouds and the Blue’s ubiquitous light.

The mass of Tonnikala soared up into the Blue and then burst out in every direction, flooding the sky with life far exceeding the limited specimens that Azura had originally introduced.

“So. What do you think?” Azura asked once more after landing atop the bastion next to Luis.

“It’s wonderful.” Luis responded. The land below was still desolate and cold, but, at last for Luis, up here didn't seem so lonely anymore.

A stirring upon the deep.

Vast burning eyes flickered open, sending the tiny shapes crawling around their sockets scurrying away from the sudden blaze of heat. Iron claws quietly rasped into motion, crushing rock outcroppings the size of ancient trees to dust. The earth rumbled as the colossal weight within it shifted forward, slowly straightening up.

With a smooth though audible rasping, Narzhak turned his head to one side, then to the other, careful not to dislodge the thick, pulsating tubes that snaked past his armour and into his throat. The continuous flow of bitter fungal spirits through them might not have helped clear his mind, but he suspected that, if he stopped too suddenly, he would get a headache. His fingers gently pressed together over one of the gargantuan root-like growths, pinching it closed before lightly tearing it away. He left the leech-like suction mouth at the tip leaning against the edge of a plate, detached three more tubes to join it and finally looked around.

The once crude chamber he had carved for himself at the end of the Pit was, in truth, still crude, but had sprouted new furnishings, like strange cave-swamp growths, over the last decades. Rather than a near-shapeless, worn mountainous outcropping, his bulk now rested over a rough simulacrum of a gigantic seat, hewn out hastily, though not entirely carelessly. Nested in the corners above and below, immense metallic vats, steaming intoxicating vapours and tended to by hundreds of kostral, gathered the other ends of the living tubes in webs of titanic vines around their bases, with others yet extending out from them towards hidden sources. All across the vault, handholds had been cut into the rock to ease the hurrying of hordes of attendants. They swarmed across the god and his surroundings alike, scraping rust from his armour and sharpening its edges, pouting the contents of rudimentary iron vases into the vats and periodically refilling the monumental trough the quiescent monstrosity at his foot sipped from. Upon his stirring, they hastily streamed down from the throne’s sides, putting as wide a space as they could between themselves and his sweeping motions.

Narzhak leaned forward, eyes narrowing as he tried to find the source of the disturbance. It was not anything in the drinks, nor in the air. A quake, perhaps? No, he would have felt whatever had caused it.

Then it struck him. It was the sounds. Groaning, bellowing, howling rose from all sides, surrounded by confused snarls and snapping of teeth. Sounds the Pit had never heard. Sounds of fear.

A furious roar rose to drown all other voices from one end of the measureless cavern to another. Boulders fell from the unseen ceiling and new fissures split the ground open as the earth quaked under the sheer wrath pouring from the Iron God. Struck by his voice as by a maul, myriads of kostral dropped from wall and sky and collapsed in prostration. The sleepers jolted awake from their unquiet dreams, only to fall to the ground again.



The command was unneeded, as all sounds, even the rasping of beasts and crackling of flames, had fallen still for a few moments after being smothered in the tide of rage, but Narzhak felt that, without even a word of release his anger, he would have torn down the entire chamber around himself. The kostral, his kostral, had been forged with naught but blood-hunger and subservience to fill their minds, perfect instruments for the shaping of such vast designs as could direct a world down the path of growth. They had known no fear, could know no fear. And now someone had jarred that flawless mechanism, maybe out of nothing but carelessness. Who was the insolent heap of scum that dared? Azura again? If it was her, he would tear out every feather on her body, then the skin under them, then-

He scraped his fingers together in the likeness of a snap. In the time of a few blinks, two skestral descended from above, holding one of their wingless kin between themselves. As soon as it was released onto the iron desert of the god’s expectant palm, the kostral crawled into a grovel, only to shiver and curl its middle arms under itself as the searing gaze of the four eyes burned past its flesh and bone to stab into its thoughts like an incandescent blade. Mercifully, a divine eye was fast to spot what it needed, and before it knew it the hapless servitor had been deposited, shaken but unharmed, onto the ground amid the bowed ranks of its fellows.

”K’nell,” the god clenched his claw into a fist. Though his voice was more subdued than they had ever heard it, the kostral shrank under the menace even their dim minds could discern in it. ”Think you’re clever? That you’re safe to throw out whatever filth you like while you hide in your castle of air?” His fingers dug gouges into the ageless stone of his seat.

”Now you will learn to fear the shadows you cower in.”

---

Bloody paste squelched under the worn makeshift pestle, spraying deep-red drops on Vrog’s hand, the rocks around it and the ground. The crouching brute reflexively licked the spatters from his fingers, grimacing as he blew off the dust they withered to dust as his tongue withdrew, and tossed the crudely sectioned remains of a farmer ape’s limb into his imposing if rudimentary mortar. The pestle went up and down, again and again, as he threw in new pieces of assorted wildlife, interspersing them with splashes from one of the flasks that always happened to find themselves in his hand just at the right moment. Now and then he paused to spit a burst of acrid sludge into the concoction, prompting bursts of caustic hissing and puffs of smoke to rise from its midst.

He still could not get a mouthful of any kind, no. As much as he had tried to find a measure that worked, from large enough to need some chewing for once to finely shredded, he had only succeeded in thinning the numbers of marauding dragons and desolating swathes of woodland after emptying them of animal life. So long as it was getting eaten in some way, it went no further than the first row of teeth. Orvus might have been a terrible vrog-talker, but this was by all accounts a job well done. Picking every last crumb of that absurd sword - who brought swords to a battle, anyway? - from his body would have taken much longer than he had patience for, and even then he was not sure it would work at all.

So, he had looked for other ways.

Drinking worked, to a degree. It still dried up fast enough, but it he knotted together his tongues outside his mouth and held it there, he could feel the taste for a few moments. If the stuff was strong enough, he could even pretend he was sending down the actual thing. With a bit of dulling of his insides, dust did not feel entirely different from a regular sip, except for the part of coughing it up later. But, for someone who had really drunk, pretending was not good enough.

And he had come up with something better.

He wiped the pestle from the dense bloody mixture, set it aside and blew into the contents of the mortar. What life remained in the gruesome slime shrivelled up and fled on the wind, leaving behind a heavy, cloying mass that reeked of slaughter. Vrog gathered a wad on a hooked finger, slapped it in the middle of a long, wide dry leaf and wrapped the whole tightly. His tongue curled around the manufact in a spiral, holding it well outside his mouth. A snap of his fingers sent a spark into the tip of the macabre construct, lighting it into a sharp crackling burst of noxious black smoke. On his exposed tongue, it tasted vaguely like nearly every being that had gone into the making of the core, mangled, mashed and roasted into a near-indistinguishable, but all the more delectable mess of carnage. The thought alone made him slaver, and he had to snap down with a few hastily grown lateral mouths to avoid biting his tongue off.

But, of course, it would have been many times better if he could actually gnaw and gorge something like that. The mouths gritted in frustration. This thought never failed to show up when he lit a stack, and sucked out the best part of the enjoyment from it.

Vrog took an angry pull, stopping the smoke just short of his jaws. Another couple decades like this with nothing but animals to slice up, and he would turn into a raving beast himself. Since that Laurien, he had not found a single thing that could properly appreciate the pain and fear he would deal - and without that, where was the fun?

Speaking of pain, this one wrap must have come out bad somewhere along the way. None of the others had made him feel a burning deep in the now unneeded stomach, certainly not one that spread like an actual fire through his limbs, into his head-

His mouth gaped open, tongue darting in with its load of what was now dust, and he clutched the center of his thorax. The metal skin twisted under his grip, a force that was certainly not his own violently pushing out from beneath it. The hand was forced aside as the metal rose up like a wave of molten fluid, rapidly cooling into the shape of a ribbed spine writhing and bending as a skeletal worm. It coiled upwards, its still flat-plated extremity hovering before his mockery of a face. In the last throes of its fluid transformation, the plate’s edges became even more ragged and irregular, much like something he had nearly forgotten.

Four points of flame lit up amid the simulacrum of Narzhak’s visor.

Rivulets of dust streaming to the ground between his teeth, Vrog spluttered out the remains of his wrap. “D’you really have to do it this way?”

The answer sounded halfway out loud, halfway inside his mind. ”You know a faster one?”

He had to admit he did not. “What’s the deal now?”

”I’d ask about what you’ve done about our first one,” even as a shrunken talking head, the Iron God managed to sound threatening enough to someone who could catch the allusions behind his tones, ”but you’re lucky there’s worse things to think of. New orders. Find K’nell and bring me to him.”

“K’nell? That the dream one?” He parted the skin curtain at one corner of his mouth, exposing pensively clenched teeth. “How the gut am I supposed to do that?”

”You’re asking me?” The mask oscillated on its spine like a snake poised to strike. ”You’re the one out there. You talked to one of his puppets earlier? That’s your start.”

Vrog raised a finger in protest. “More like I talked at someone who said she was dreams. Wasn’t very convincing about it, either. What’s that do to spitting help, anyway?”

”You do the thinking on that one.” The fiery eyes flared up in a blaze that consumed the daylight around them, and Vrog grated all six sets of teeth and then some as a fist of molten iron clenched around his thoughts. ”I won’t take excuses for failure.”

The spine with Narzhak at its tip uncoiled and began to sink back into his chest with a feeling unpleasantly similar to being impaled on Orvus’ sword, if much worse. Before its last vertebrae had fully retracted, the visor turned upwards one last time. ”Stop us at that place of Chopstick’s on the way. I haven’t seen her in a while.” With those final words, the mask merged back into the breastplate, as though it had never been there.

Curling his skin-lips and straightening his various mouths, Vrog massaged his still painfully thrumming head and spat a seed from his throatless pair of chewing jaws. Things just kept getting better, didn’t they.

---

The woods around the easternmost mountains were much as he had left them. Same nondescript smells of sap and leaves, same roots that snapped underfoot with almost every step. The only difference was that those wretched morsel-things he had been fed that one time had spread - and quite a difference it was. With nothing much to eat them, the filthy things were everywhere, from the braches to the soil, and every lick in between. Squashing them like overripe fruit as he walked was satisfying in more ways than he cared to count. He chuckled when a few leapt into his mouth and crumbled before he could feel their hatefully bland taste. At a distance of years, he had to admit that had not been a bad joke, though of course it would have been much better if it had been done to anyone else.

Even now, however, the parasites had a way of making themselves a nuisance. The trace he was searching for, if it was to be found at all, was easily drowned out by their similar irksome smell. There was no telling if his quarry was still anywhere near there, and, even if so, if he would feel it at all without a lucky gust of wind, no matter how many of the vermin he stomped on. And, if not, even wind might not have been enough.

Similar, not the same. There it was. Not new by any stretch, but unmistakable amid the background noise. Vrog clicked his tongue. He did not need to make excuses; he simply did not fail.

From there, following the track was as easy as it had been the first time. He grimaced at the thought of how the bitter foretaste had given him pangs of hunger then. Now, after having had enough to burst, it did anything but that, casting a mildly disgusted apathy over his innards. All things considered, that was probably for the best given his ability to put anything into them. Two wrongs did add up to a right after all.

And, just when he thought he had it, it vanished. Not by breaking off, but abruptly going skyward. That complicated things. Whatever had happened there, he doubted he could jump up as easily. His tongue darted up, then around, seeking any kind of grip on the disappearing path. It found something. Not far.

Disappointingly, it was just a bauble of some kind. He picked it up between two fingers, trying it to the tongue, then to the tooth. Close as the taste was now, and though it made his teeth itch with anticipation, his stomach was still perfectly indifferent. Vrog rolled the small sphere in his hand, considering. It was unlikely to help the search in any way, but, if it was anything of value, better times were to be had by keeping it. At the same time, he did not have room to spare for any litter he found. What if, though…

For all he was likely to get out of it, he might as well just have the last laugh in the eating matter. With a flick, he tossed the orb into his mouth.

It did not become dust. In fact, it did not become anything - it simply was not there. No, there was something after all. Not something he could feel, but he could see it. See it?

Chomping, gnashing, grunting, squealing, cutting, snapping, chopping, scrapping, skinning, ripping, smashing, slamming, swiping, crawling, loping, growing, fattening, gorging, gutting, mauling, bashing, biting, stomping, snorting, scrouging, plundering, pummeling, beating, brawling, tearing, bleeding, smelling, stabbing, snatching, little arms in the mouth, little bones in the pouch, bloating, swelling, spreading, scourging…

Funny little things that those were.

So engrossed was he with watching the scenes of tangling pests rolling inside himself, one followed by a still better other, that he caught himself with a foot almost off a cliff, an alarming heat rising from below. Shaking himself from the curious sights - was that what dreams were like? - Vrog probed the air around himself. The trail was still a line above his head, and just a step forward was the boiling sea someone had had the brilliant idea of putting along one of the coasts.

He lit a wrap, contemplating the way ahead with a few side-tongues. On the better hand, the party was actually close enough on the way, which meant no more annoying detours than strictly needed. On the other, he still had to get across that oversized pot, and who knew where the Omen had gone off to.

It seemed, however, that someone had conveniently enough dropped something into the water. Not just one something, but another, equally big one, and another further left, and... Though the spectacle of the great marine lamps was lost on Vrog’s lack of anything to see them with, their usefulness to someone in his situation was fairly clear.

Were there enough to get to the other side? Maybe. Worth a try, either way.

He took a pull from the wrap, spat a seed and jumped.

A full half century had passed since the arrival of the first later-named Spirit Bird, and by now they had taken many of the original discoverers of their home island with them. Tokuanhe had passed a seal’s age ago, and his son Jokuanhe had been ruling for the following twelve years alongside his wife, Julempe. Donwah and Dondo’e had both competed eagerly for the title of tribe champion in the beginning years, but as time had gone on, it had seemed that neither was able to utterly best the other in any activity the selka could think of, whether this be running, hunting, rock throwing, lifting or even wrestling. In perhaps a bit of desperation to get them to stop, Jokuanhe had thus named them both champions, though this had sown some seeds of rivalry between them. Likewise, Tokuhe had also risen to the challenge and requested to compete for the title, but Jokuanhe had denied him the right, reasoning that his own son had not been of age at the time, and that Tokuhe would have needed to rule in his stead should anything happen. This had been an adequate trade, Tokuhe had thought, and life continued in peace for the Wuhdige.

However, as the years passed and Jokuanhe’s son, Jotokan, as well as Tokuanhe’s youngest Yukuanhe both grew into adults, the battle for succession slowly began to split the clans. First, Tokuhe, being the oldest, claimed the title of successor for his own, arguing that Jotokan was still young and inexperienced - much too immature for the title of chieftain. Jokuanhe had defended his son, but his very need to do that had already proven to the rest of the tribe that the chieftain’s son still was illeligible to rule. However, quickly Tokuhe was challenged by his younger brother Yukuanhe, who reasoned that Tokuhe was old and frail - much too weak to lead the great Wuhdige tribe. Tokuhe rose to the challenge, and was as such given the right to select the game they would compete with; however, he was much too certain of himself and chose a mastered art from his youth, though one he had not practiced for many years since - rock lifting.

Yukuanhe had been reluctant to accept - while Jokuanhe had always been the fastest and deftest in their siblings flock, Tokuhe had a secret technique that allowed him to lift nearly any rock. While both Jokuanhe and Yukuanhe had always thrown his stones and sticks further and harder than Tokuhe, neither had ever bested him in rock lifting. However, the youngest brother knew his advantages: Tokuhe was indeed old and frail - not in seven years had he shown his skill, excusing himself with an ageing back and aching legs. No one had seen him lift much heavier things than pebbles. It was rude to pick on your elders, so no one had ever pestered him about whether he could still claim his title as the greatest rock lifter, but Yukuanhe had been certain that the old seal’s muscles and bones were much too weak to best him.

He thus had accepted and the tribe had gathered before the Home Cave to witness the duel of strength. Jokuanhe, an old and aged seal whose spirit had began to call for the Spirit Birds, had barely managed his way out of the cave to see the spectacle. Even from the far reaches of the island, the split-off families like the Julu, Woiwoi and the newly formed Yugweh made their way over to see. The perfection of cliff-tears, now-dubbed stone-spit, had allowed for more spread out and larger camps, no longer solely reliant on body heat to survive the icy nights. It also allowed for big “fire fish feasts”, which were rampant in the background of the event. The rules had been laid out: There would be ten rounds with increasingly heavier rocks. The one who could lift the most would win. The event brought in more selka than had gathered outside the Home Cave since the burial of Tokuanhe and Odende. In the background the fires were raging as selka threw some fish on their barbed spears and held them over the fires.

The competition began. For the first five rounds, both parties showed both strength and skill - Yukuanhe’s raw power radiated around him and oozed outwards through sweat, groans and the pumps of veins. However, the gray Tokuhe proved to be a most able opponent, his flawless technique allowing him to lift many kilos worth of stone with seemingly no effort at all. Yukuanhe’s curiosity gnawed at his mind - how did he do it, the old blubberball?! However, as both parties were required to lift simultaneously to avoid any cheating, the younger brother never got the opportunity to study Tokuhe’s technique. As the match reached its halfway point, they both shook hands lovelessly and went their separate ways to mingle with their closest. Yukuanhe sat racking his mind over how the old seal did it while he ate his halfway lunch, his great stature surrounded by his own kin - all who praised him, hugged him and marveled at his strength. However, the youngest brother heard none of it - all he thought about was how his elder could put up such a challenge in his vastly frailer form. Despite the blubber, he knew a good gust could blow away the old clump. So why, why and why could he not win?!

The next set of rounds began. Reinvigorated by both food and fury, the giant Yukuanhe took his place next to the small boulder. Opposite of him stood Tokuhe, his visage as determined as Yukuanhe’s own. The following two rounds went by, the seventh round characterised by growls and grunts from Yukuanhe’s exhausted form. How, by his own pa, how?! How did his brother manage to lift these weights without so much as a single sound beyond a quiet hup! - he could not figure it out.

The eighth stone was rolled over. The size had grown to the point where one normally needed two selka to carry it. Yukuanhe coughed and felt a metallic taste in his mouth. He took a moment to study his adversary: Tokuhe had an almost intimidating ability to hide his weakness despite his age, yet even dulled eyes could see that the old selka was tired. The crowds held their breaths as the competitors took their stances. Yukuanhe exhaled two vents of hot air through his nose and bent his torso forward, curving his back and flexing his shoulders. He wrapped his arms around the stone and awaited the signal. He dared not look up for fear of being disqualified, but he knew the geezer’s stance already was radically different from his own. Naturally, no others would share the competitors’ secrets for fear of the game losing its fun and flair, but right now, Yukuanhe cursed that culture.

“Go!” went the judge and Yukuanhe flexed his back muscles. They ached after all the lifting - a deep-rooted pain that he had felt many times before when lifting rocks, and a common ailment among the greatest in the sport. Strangely, he thought as he lifted, all others but Tokuhe had felt it… Now that he thought about it, didn’t Tokuhe actually straighten his back when he--

“ARGH!” came a roar from the opposite side. Yukuanhe had lifted his boulder to his chest at that point and the judge called for the competition to stop. As Yukuanhe dropped his rock into the sand, he saw Tokuhe kneeling a few metres before him, one hand clutching his lower back and his other resting on top of the boulder. Surrounding him were his wife, children and friends, all patting him all over to in an anxious effort to help.

“What happened?” Yukuanhe called. “We wasn’t finished, y’hear!”

The judge whispered something to Tokuhe, who shook his head. The judge nodded somberly and went over to Yukuanhe, grabbed his hand and raised it into the air.

“Tokuhe gives up! Yukuanhe’s gonna be the new chief after Jokuanhe!”

The crowds exploded into a cacophony of celebration and complaints. Yukuanhe took a moment to let it sink in, then raised his other hand in victorious celebration. As he laughed joyously, however, more and more of the other selka noticed Jokuanhe had fallen over. As more and more were notified, all the present selka rushed to his side.

The chieftain was dead, and in the distance, the great Spirit Bird approached to take his spirit to the Cave of the Family Jewels, the new, sensibly named afterlife now that the great Ocean of Fish was deemed to be fake. Yukuanhe was promptly named chief. During his rule, Tokuhe passed away, having been left crippled and broken from the competition, and Yukuanhe did not rule for long anyway, for a fever took him a mere three years after his ascension to chieftain, leaving Jokuanhe’s son, Jotokan, to rule the Wuhdige. It had been fifty years since the first arrival of the Spirit Birds, and the last of Tokuanhe’s sons had been claimed by it.

Jotokan, already far over middle-aged, had been aged by a determination to prove Tokuhe’s accusations of immaturity and inexperience to be gravely wrong. As such, he had spent the years since the very start of the succession dispute striving to become a true Wuhdige, leading hunts and fishing trips, digging and building burrows, being a loving husband and father and participating daily in sports and games. In terms of popularity in the tribe, he vastly outranked every other runner-up for the chief spot in the Home Cave, and while he initially brought the tribes tightly together, he created a dependency on his own personality - a glue sustained by his own character that held together increasingly ambitious and competitive clans, and so it was a beautiful day in the autumn when the apples and pears grew thick and juicy and the mushrooms were plump and nutritious that Jotokan received the news:

“Chief! Chief!” Duhwah, son of the deceased Donwah and Yui, shouted as he came running into the Home Cave. The chieftain gave his champion a concerned frown and stood up - as did his wife, Selenu, and his children, Aloo, Kulee and Tokkan.

“What’s got you pantin’, Duh?” Jotokan asked with a scratch of the head. Duhwah spent a few minutes catching his breath, holding up a finger to signal a pause. Selenu gave Jotokan a uncertain look. “Look, Duh,” she started, “This is why you can’t always be the rock-thrower. You gotta be the catcher, too, sometimes.”

“Oh, shu’h… Uhp!” the warrior groaned and finally straightened himself up. “Oh’kay, I think I’m gooh’d,” he mumbled with a shake of the head.

“Alright, then, what you got to tell me so much you sprintin’ harder than ol’ Eliul when he hears ‘fired fish’?” Jotokan asked as he plopped his hands on his well-toned, yet slightly blubbery hips.

“It’s, uh, pretty related to the Elus, actually, chief,” the champion said sheepishly. “Or, uh, more specifically, the Julus. The boy Julo has been pretty loud about his wantin’ some room in the Home Cave, as you know…”

Jotokan snorted and shook his head with a roll of the eyes. “Julo’s still just a boy, Duh. He’s loud, yeah, but it’s his gramma and grampa’s fault that they moved away to begin with. If he wants a spot in our cave, by ol’ Yop in the clouds, he gotta come take it himself.”

Duhwah made a sheepish grimace. “Now, uh, chief, y’see… He’s here already.”

Jotokan recoiled in surprise and on cue, a young, smirking selka came into the cave with a frivolous gait, followed by ten others. He put his hands on his hips and looked around, admiring the inside and the paintings the selka had made on the walls. “Now -THIS- is a home!” Julo exclaimed and turned to his followers, who seemed to be the rest of his immediate family. “Got a nice, warm feel; keeps the snow out; no wind… ‘S perfect!”

“Julo, what’re you doin’ here?” Jotokan asked impatiently. Julo ignored him.

“I think we’ll sit ourselves down oveeer… There!” He pointed at the spot of the cave right next to Jotokan and the other Tokuan descendants, the part of the cave specifically carved out for the Elus, complete with neat drawings and symbols on the wall and ceiling above it. Jotokan grunted and clapped his hands together to catch his attention. Julo gave him a roll of the eyes. “Hey, chief,” he mumbled.

“Oi, Julo! What you think you’re doin’, huh, comin’ in here and claimin’ what ain’t yours? That’s the Elu spot! Last time I checked, you ain’t Elu, nor have you been since your gramps Eliap and Joo left ‘em to make your Julu name. If you want back in, go to your cousin Eel and see if you can get him to let you. Just know that he ain’t too fond of ya.” Jotokan gave the smaller selka a stern scowl, but received only a snicker in return.

“Now, chief, chief, don’chu think I’ve done that? Kelp, I’ve pretty much begged the blubberball to let us stay here, but he ain’t lettin’ up. We ain’t got’ny space, he keeps sayin’, but we know them Elus ain’t as many as they used to be now. Too many girls, our grand-uncles and grand-aunts had, lots of them got with other clans - your woman’s also Elu, if I recall.”

Selenu gave him a glare. “Yeah, but we two ain’t related, you fish-head.”

“We are, and you better like it,” Julo snapped and stuck a finger up in Selenu’s face. The girl hissed and slapped him and Jotokan struggled to break up the following short brawl.

“Alright! Calm down, you two! Julo, you ain’t welcome here with that ‘tude of yours, but you know how we can settle this right. You know the rules - if you wanna get a spot in the cave, you either gotta be born in it or compete to live in it. Thems are the rules!”

Julo snickered. “Yeah, sure, I know ‘em. Been prepping real good for them, too. I wanna challenge my cousin for his spot in the cave!”

Jotokan and Selenu stood staring at one another for an awkward moment. Julo crossed his arms over his chest proudly and his followers sounded a cheer in his name. Jotokan sucked in a breath and nodded at Duhwah, who set off in a running gait out the cave. While they waited, Jotokan sat down and motioned for Julo to do the same, which he did.

“Julo, son, what happened to ya? Your pa and ma were pretty happy folks out there in the wilderness, as their mas and pas had been. What changed?”

Julo snickered and shook his head. “Yeah, they was happy, alright… All that freezin’ and starvin’... Was supposed to be part of the experience, y’know - ‘no strong boy ever got their fish from ma’s hand’, gramma used to say, but she grew up in this here cave. She ain’t known nothin’ about actually growing up out there. Ma and pa heard that line all their lives - they’s quickly started thinkin’ it was the truth, y’know. But we, nah… We’re done with that. We been freezin’ and starvin’ enough.”

Jotokan sighed and waved over Selenu. “Hey, Selly, fetch these goodfellas some fish, will ya? And some apples while you’re at it.” Selenu nodded with a frown. Their daughter Kulee came along, too, while their sons Aloo and Tokkan sat down on each flank of their father. Jotokan continued, “Sorry to hear that, son… We always knew y’all had it bad, but… Yeah, never knew y’all had it this hard. Can’t help but ask, though - why didn’t y’all just… Ask to move back? Could’a made y’all some fine burrows out on the beach. There’s still room and--”

Julo snickered interruptingly. “Now y’see that? Back home, I could’a never asked my woman to fetch fish and apples like that, ‘cuz we ain’t got none. Yeah, we could’a moved back, but you’re smart, chief - you know Eel and the Elus wouldn’t have let us live near the cave. We would’a gotten that spot right by the tide line, y’know, where the burrows fill with sea water at night and nothin’s really changed.” He shook his head. “Nah, chief… We throwin’ our rock high and hard. We either goin’ for the big home or we…” He sighed. “... We gotta leave, chief.”

“Then leave,” came a hostile snap from the cave mouth. The selka inside turned to see Eel, a fat, sneering male with a greasy whisker-stache, backed up by six mightier-looking relatives. Julo got to his feet as his family parted the path between them and clapped his hands happily.

“Cousiiiiiiin,” he exclaimed with fake enthusiasm.

“Shut up, you krill,” Eel snapped back. “You know you ain’t welcome on Elu turf!”

Julo gestured around him. “This ain’t Elu turf, couz’, this is the chieftain’s turf - like all Wuhdige land is.” Eel shot some hot air out his nose and Julo frowned. “Like it or not, the Julu are Wuhdige, and we can freely roam around like the rules say.”

Eel thundered over to Jotokan, smacking his shoulder into Julo’s on the way, and shook hands with the chieftain. “Hey, chief, nice to see ya.”

“Nice to see ya, too, Eel. Hope the seas got a lot of fish for ya today,” the chieftain answered. Eel shrugged.

“Eh, Eole got some cod and Elueh caught a few herring. A good catch, I’d say,” went Eel with a warm smile. Jotokan raised a brow.

“You, uhm, you didn’t check the waters yourself?”

Eel patted his large belly and let out a chuckle. “My, chieftain, chieftain, you know I ain’t no fast swimmer. I’d never catch up to ‘em. No, no, good to have brothers and sisters around who can take care of lil’, ol’ me, I say.”

Jotokan made a short-lived frown and nodded. “Yeah, sure. If it works for ya, then I suppose it’ll be alright.” He pointed to Julo. “Julo here’s challenged you for your family’s spot in the Home Cave.”

Eel snapped around and stared Julo down. “Oh, he’s still here? My, chieftain, you ain’t gonna let him do that, are ya? The Elu’s been in this cave since the first days - why, ol’ Elop’s jewel would darn straight crack if we ever left it, I bets!”

“He still has challenged you, Eel,” Jotokan repeated. “Wha’chu say?”

Eel looked back at Julo who was still smirking at him, and then back at Jotokan. “W-why… N-nah, ‘course not! I ain’t recognise this challenge from a darn Julu! Nah, he can go straight home to his there hole.”

Jotokan sighed and shook his head. Julo grinned and made a wide, extravagant shrug. “Welp! Looks like this is it, folks! We ain’t gettin’ it here thanks to this big, wimpy sardine over here.” He thumbed over his shoulder at Eel and the fat selka turned an embarrassing shade of pink.

“W-what did you call me?” he asked with an outraged tone.

“Called you what you is, you wimpy, fat sardine!” Julo taunted and cackled. The rest of the Julus joined in on the laughter, and it was evident that even the Elu Eel had brought along seemed to disapprove of their leader’s answer to the challenge. Selenu came in the cave mouth with two fish, offering one to Julo - however, it was snatched by Eel who bit off its head and pointed the headless, limp cod at Julo’s face. Selenu recoiled and Jotokan rushed to her side, scowling at Eel.

“You take that back, you darn krill! Or else I’m gunna slap you silly with this here cod!”

Julo just stood there smiling. “Yeah, ain’t weird you got so fat if you keep eatin’ every time you’s actin’ like a lil’ scared sardine! Hah!”

Eel’s eyes went wide and he turned to his siblings, all of whom were either burying their faces in their palms or about to do it. The fat selka grit his teeth over the mouthful of fish and swallowed. “You’re just a lil’ strip of kelp, Julo! Fine! I’mma take that challenge, which means I get to pick the game!”

“As is the rule,” Julo agreed. Jotokan let out a sigh of relief, just as his daughter came in with an armfull of apples, one of which Eel snatched as she walked by him.

“Well, a’ight!” Eel said as he took a bit of the apple, chewed and swallowed. “I choose fish-eating!”

The present selka all recoiled a bit in surprise - all except Julo. Jotokan shook his head and patted Eel on the shoulder. “Look, Eel, it’s a fun suggestion, but we don’t wanna waste food like that. We got lotsa fish, but not enough to watch two selka stuff themselves and--”

“It’s fine, chief,” Julo assured him. “I like this challenge. Maybe I can finally eat my fill of food for once.”

Jotokan remained skeptical, but Duhwah patted him on the shoulder to show his support for the idea. Selenu, looking rather torn now about her allegiances to her original family, also patted the chieftain in agreement. The chieftain’s two sons Aloo and Tokkan also nodded their opinion. Finally, the chieftain gave in and said, “A’ight, fine, fine. Duhwah, take a couple of boys to the sea and fish us another week’s worth. Selenu, fetch some girls and pick some fruit and berries and browncaps. We gunna need as much food as we can get for the winter, so I hope one of yous get full real fast.”

Eel smirked and patted his belly again. “Nothin’ to worry ‘bout, chief. That scrawny krill won’t last long.”

Jotokan sighed. “I hope not, by ol’ Yop. A’ight… You both happy with the challenge?”

Julo snickered. “Sure am, chief. When do we start?” Eel nodded with determination.

“A’ight, we startin’ in three days. We gonna need to stack up the food piles first. What’re the stakes?”

Julo raised a fist into the air. “If I win, the Julu will take the Elu’s place in the Home Cave! The Elu’s gunna be living on the beach!” Jotokan nodded and looked to Eel who raised his own fist.

“If I win, the Julu won’t just go home to their holes - they gunna leave the Wuhdige for good!” There came several gasps, even from the Julu themselves, but Julo nodded.

Jotokan furrowed his brow. “These terms agreeable?” he asked both parties.

The contestants nodded. Eel glared at Julo and punched his fist into his palm and then left the cave. Soon, the chieftain’s family, Duhwah and the Julu were all that remained. Jotokan sighed and rubbed his temples, Selenu hugging him for comfort. The chieftain looked up at Julo who still stood smiling at the waddling figure making its way away from the cave. He pursed his lips and let out a pensive hum. “So… Really that set on gettin’ in, huh?”

Julo nodded. “You have no idea, chief… A’ight, we’ll be back in three days.”

“Three days,” the chieftain agreed. With that, the Julu went out the cave entrance and away from the main camp. Selenu rubbed her chin against Jotokan’s shoulder and sighed.

“Really got big changes ahead, don’t we?” she remarked.

Jotokan nodded. “Yeah… Real big ones.”

“The Grottu tribe under Hoshaf grew strong and their immense battle prowess swallowed smaller tribes, and further still, their great zeal attracted others. In short time their size rivaled that of the Hyummin, but with each bloody victory, the evil Hoshaf grew more and more restless.”

Firelight crackled off the old and wrinkled face of Yupilgo, a decorated sharkskin bandage wrapped around his eyes. Time dug troughs into his flesh and wrinkled his body. He spoke with the breathy air of an elder, and many young warriors sat around him to listen to his words. He cleared his throat and powered on, the cold night wind adding spice to his story.

“He screamed in his sleep, and lashed out at his subordinates. Punishments grew more common, and then executions!” One child among the group of warriors turned to whisper what that meant, while others held stone faces, remembering their ancestors and those who had perished. Yupilgo hacked a breath and continued, unphased.

“Eventually his underlings grew tired of his ways and threatened to dispose of him. Fearing the worst, Hoshaf decided to act… and act quick. In a last ditch attempt to reaffirm his divine order of Kirron himself, Hoshaf declared war against the Hyummin…” Yupilgo made a fist and shook it, inciting gasps from the youngest of his crowd and head shakes from the oldest.

“Oh woe to the Hyummin,” Yupilgo shook his wrapped head, “Since their conception they bickered and fought among themselves. They were large, yes, but very weak and conflicted --that is-- until a new face appeared, flanked by a giant and by a poet.”

“Panganeem and his K’nights!” A warrior bellowed and at the sound of the name, the most grizzled of the group pounded their chests with wide fists, glory in their eyes. The younger members of the crowd stood inspired, a certain eagerness in their legs as they flipped back in forth, awaiting the rest of the story… and perhaps their own future.

“Yes!” Yupilgo pointed towards the voice, his old voice cracking with excitement, “Panganeem! The greatest of Selka hunters approached the tribe, Juttyu the Faithful Giant on his right and Ippino the favored poet of Delphina on his left. Almost immediately Panganeem was assaulted by the words of Gorpingu the Blasphemer, the Selka of the west.”

A warrior whispered the name Gorpingu to his lady friend, explaining to her to wait and listen to what happens. She scrunched her face and motioned for him to listen. Yupilgo held his hands above the crowd.

“They entered a debate, one of a snake’s tongue and a loyal man’s whisper. Gorpingu pulled the robes of the gods themselves down and exposed their flesh to the Selka before him, but Panganeem brought their gaze back to their face. His words were simple, but of truth, he pushed past the argument of the gods and into the heart of life itself. He called upon his deceased daughter’s name, Tyuppa, and convinced Gorpingu that in their own way, the gods have given Panganeem the tools to build the selka up, and that through these tools they can become reliant on themselves, and create a new future. Gorpingu was intrigued, as was his followers. He leapt from his mighty pillar and knelt before Panganeem, swearing his fealty to Panganeem and the K’nights of Tyuppa, should they serve the selka first.”

One of the members of the crowd eagerly tapped the ivory club he held in his hand, tittering about his own membership into the sacred order. A curl formed on Yupilgo’s dry lips and his voice lifted.

“Onward the K’nights went and only after slaying dangerous beasts, reuniting lost families, and safely bringing food to the hungry, were they able to approach all the leaders of the Hyummin tribes. Gorpingu, Ippino, Juttyu, and their leader, Panganeem, stood center before the mass of Hyummin and their five family tribes.” Yupilgo held out five fingers as he spoke.

“They looked at Panganeem and said ‘you are well known, your K’nights dot the land and perform great acts, but what would you have us do? You are no chieftain, you have no tribe, what would you have us do?’ At these words Panganeem bit his finger and thought in the simple yet honest way he did. He was not without his wits, and with steely eyes he turned to Ippino and called the wise man to the center. Together the two explained how they formed the K’nights and by what way they lead them. They explained how Juttyu, Gorpingu, Ippino and Panganeem all held council and voted on decisions. Ippino pushed forward, his voice blessed by the charm of Delphina and in an awe inspiring speech he convinced the tribes of Hyummin to each pick a patriarch or matriarch and to give each tribe one vote through them, and when trouble arises to convene in council and vote as one on what to do. The tribes were swayed and the council of the Hyummin formed.”

The crowd gave a slight cheer, some leaning to whisper what their own ancestors did on the occasion, and a few even explained that they were related to a patriarch or matriarch. Prayers to Delphina leaked across the crowd, only falling suddenly silent as Yupilgo held up a hand.

“But what of the threat of the Grottu?”

“Yupilgo the Blind warned them!” Someone shouted, forcing a smile on Yupilgo’s face. Someone smacked the shouter and called out:

“Yupilgo the Blessed!” There was a small cheer, one that warmed Yupilgo’s face. The sensitive old man grunted past a tear and he continued, his old voice pushing with new vigor.

“I did! In my arms was the baby scion of Viroh the first, on my head was blood -- brought forth from the sin of Hoshaf and the murder of Antorophu. I was struck blind by the divines, the gods taking my sight to save me from seeing any more atrocities. I had seen enough, but I had not done enough!” He was nearly crying as he shouted his story.

“I forced my way to the Hyummin, lead by visions not of my eyes and words not of my ears, and I held the baby Dradinku high on my shoulders. I was greeted by whispers, and harsh words, but I kept walking on knowing my final mark was before me. I started as a hunter in sight, and as a blind man I finished, laying the baby Dradinku at the feet of none other than Panganeem. He welcomed me as a brother, reciting our old hunts together and put me before the council so I may speak. I spoke of the Grottu, I spoke of war, and finally I spoke of Hoshaf the accursed.”

The crowd was on their feet, energy passing through them as the story thickened. They all held their breaths, watching the old man spasm as he forced the story out with incredible emotion. He reached down to the sand below, his back shaking as he bent over. Slowly he stood back up, a rusted iron spear in his hand. He slammed the butt into the sand, and the crowd stared in awe at the metal.

“I proved to the council the sort of weapons the Grottu were blessed with, and how they conducted their wars. I was at a loss of what to do about it, but I told the story all the same. In fear, the council quickly voted that Panganeem be the one to solve this problem, as defender of the Hyummin.”

The old selka smiled and laughed, “Kirron is a god of humor, it seems, because while Juttyu, Panganeem, and I --the great hunters-- thought of what to do, it was old Ippino who suddenly came up with an idea -- the perfect trap. It is no secret that Ippino was the wily youth of yore who once stole the beast known as fire from the wild and tamed it -- and this fact was not lost on him when he suggested we unleash this beast back into the wild against the Grottu.”

He sucked in a breath, “And so the evil Hoshaf came, waves of spears before us. Panganeem stood with Juttyu the Giant, nearly alone with only the bravest of the Hyummin. This small group was mocked and laughed at by Hoshaf and his mighty army. Ever of wit, Panganeem spat insults back, damaging Hoshaf’s pride and forcing his hand. The Grottu horde charged… and the ground shook. The sky itself even darkened, as if Kirron attempted to hide the innocent Bobbu from the carnage about to happen.”

The crowd was silent, eyes fixated everywhere. Some stared at the sky, realm of Bobbu, while others stared at the giant bone shrine of Kirron that stood behind Yupilgo, some still even looked to the ocean, the promise of Delphina. Yupilgo looked down.

“Many brave K’nights died that day, giving Hoshaf a fight he wouldn’t soon forget -- but just as it seemed as if the K’nights would never give in, Panganeem ordered a retreat. Hoshaf was shocked! He was grinning wickedly! He had them now, oh yes he did, and so he followed them into a golden colored hay field cut in half by a stream. His army sifted through the tall dry grass, while Panganeem and his men sneakily hopped the stream, and as soon as their heels hit the ground, Ippino struck!” The crowd’s eyes grew.

“Off to the side, Ippino (with prayers on his lips) and a handful of Hyummin people tossed some of the sacred beast onto the fields. A great wind blew in favor of the Hyummin and the entire field burned into a fiery sea never seen before, not even by the great fire birds. Those who made it across the stream in a panic were met by Gorpingu and his men, while others fell into the hammer of Juttyu. This continued until Hoshaf, by the grace of Kirron’s humor, escaped the flames -- only to be beaten to death by his own surviving men.”

“But this is not the end, oh no, as Gorpingu and the Hyummin circled around and captured these murderers and all the remaining Grottu forces. They were stripped of their divine spears and cast down before the council. The council asked ‘what shall we do with the Grottu?’ but their eyes fell on Panganeem and the K’nights. I felt it in my chest, I did. As they stared, and as Panganeem thought, a cold whisper entered my chest and I pushed to stand before the Grottu. What could only be the wind of Bobbu, or perhaps the charm of Delphina, I found words I didn’t know I felt. I asked and I convinced the council to hand the tribe over to Dradinku and to release the K’nights from the Hyummin so that they may be the protectors of all Selka, Grottu included. The council thought on my words, and Panganeem stepped forward, pushing my speech with one of his own. He explained that he was a hunter first, a K’night second. He spoke of his greatest hunt, one of peace. He said that in all his doings, and all his deeds he did not find Tyuppa nor did he find peace, not yet. He bent a knee to show his humility as he spoke, and he said that while he could not find this final mark, he saw ours. He said it stood right before us, a naked deer in the grass: the Grottu should be welcomed by the Hyummin and a friendship should form… there were too many selka on either side to keep in conflict, too many sons and too many daughters to neglect for the sake of revenge.”

Yupilgo stopped speaking, mulling over his words. A sadness entered the lower half of his face and he sat down slowly, “Revenge. Panganeem cut his heart open to us that night, he said that in all his travels he never found peace as long as he held onto revenge. He proposed, perhaps the only way to really find peace was to end that cycle right then and there. It was as if we were consoled by Kirron himself, the greatest hunter breaking into tears as he explained the nature of this final mark. By Tyuppa and by Kirron he swore, that should we accept the Grottu as friends, and build them up -- peace would find us first.”

There was a long pause as Yupilgo looked over the many faces now staring at him.

“And so we did.”

The tribesmen and women of the Grottu --who made more than half of his crowd-- began to cheer alongside the Hyummin tribesmen and women. Yupilgo smiled warmly.

“And so we did.” He whispered to himself.

“What happened to Panganeem?” Someone suddenly called out, “And the others?”

“Oh… many say different things, but here is how I know it,” Yupilgo rubbed his whiskers, “Juttyu came with me back to the Grottu to help raise Dradinku as chieftain. Gorpingu traveled west with the K’nights and spread the order across this whole region. Ippino stayed here with other K’nights and ensured that their help never faltered… he did this until the day he was swept up by the ocean itself. He now rests with Delphina. As for Panganeem, the greatest of selka…” Yupilgo’s face turned to a certain melancholy, “Well I’d say he went out among the creatures of Kirron, and in time he finally found what he was hunting for.”

The crowd grew quiet, a gentle thoughtfulness leaking through each individual. This silence held strong, even as Dradinku, now a grown man dressed in swathes of sharkskin approached the crowd. The chieftain blended in without much notice, eyes on the ground out of respect for Yupilgo’s story until finally, a tiny voice piped up.

“Can you tell us about Kirron and Delphina and her promise to him?”

The crowd began to laugh and Yupilgo looked up with a smile on his lips, “Long ago!” He voice boomed with renewed power, “After Kirron carefully crafted what we now know as land…”

---

---

---

Ippino sat at the edge of the coast, his eyes weary and his arms dug into the sand. He sat with his legs splayed, so that the gentle lapping of the ocean rhythmically washed over him, creating one of the few sounds that intruded on the rather quiet night. His fingers clenched around the sand and he sighed, a smile forming at each shimmering wave. With a thud, he let his back fall to the sand, only for him to quickly pick himself back up -- already missing the beauty of the ocean.

The night wind rushed over him and sent a chill over his bare back, but he didn’t pay it much mind. His eyes and musing thoughts were transfixed on the marriage of the moon and the waves. He cocked a head, “How lucky even the light of the moon is, or the comets above, to always embrace such beauty.”

The waves lapped beside him and the water burbled as it flowed around Ippino. And in that burbling, there was what almost sounded like words. “And how lucky the ocean is, to have one who admires her beauty.”

The old selka seemed startled, his body tensing. He wiggled his nose and blunk his eyes, "Have I finally slipped or--" With all the energy of youth, the selka flopped onto his knees and splashed his ear to the shallow waves.

"Am I blessed with the words of the ocean?" His eyes twitched as he searched for further sounds, "Like a chiming bird song that only knows eloquence." He etched the words in the air, attempting to define what he had heard.

There was a trickle behind Ippino which seemed to say, “Like the melodious call of a whale in the sea. Like the caress of waves running over sand.”

"Yes exac-!" Ippino turned. Despite his elderly body, his face held the chipper beam of a child. His eyes fell on a large watery form which had risen out of the sea, the moonlight reflecting off her graceful flowing curves. A selka-like face smiled down on Ippino.

The old selka nearly seized if not for his shaking frame. There wasn't a shred of fright in his shiver, but pure ecstasy. His eyes widened to saucers and his age-sunken chest pounded against his heartbeat. He sucked in his breath and with every bit of emotion he managed to speak, "It is like I have opened my eyes for the first of times, my entire life I was in a cave stuck in dark and grimes, I had no idea but now I see, my very soul and heart shaken with glee."

The watery figure burbled at Ippino’s words, and a voice like a trickling brook answered in kind. “The wind and the waves have carried your praise, you have admired my beauty all of your days. My charms you have spoken in wondrous rhyme, so I bless you with a meeting this time.”

Ippino's face brightened even further and he scooted closer, the water rushing around him as he did, "Then how lucky am I, for years I looked out to the sky, looking for a way to see your face, never did I expect here in this place." He sighed, dropping his poetic prose, "And let it be known, though I suspect you already know: that my love for you has bred children on its own, and now the sons and daughters of Grottu and Hyummin united roar with your praise."

An aqueous pseudopod rose up and brushed Ippino’s face. “You have done well, Ippino. My name has been uplifted through you, and now many more selka appreciate my beauty, although none compare to you. My favour has always been upon you. The sea has always provided you with food. In your time of greatest need, I heard your prayers and sent the storm to fight beside you. A person who loves a god like you do is rare and precious indeed.”

Ippino's eyes watered, "I knew it. I knew I felt you through my days." A tear fell, "Even now in my old age, I will say to you what I've always said. My love for you and my admiration for your beauty will be as strong in my heart as it's always been, and should I have a say in it: even as my body disappears to time."

“Your adoration will forever be remembered. My worshippers shall always tell the stories of Ippino, the man who loved the sea,” she said in a voice like flowing waves.

The selka flicked a tear off of one of his whiskers, "May I… may I ask you one favor? It is all I have left to desire in this world."

The tear fell into the sea with a light ripple. “You may ask.”

"I am not much longer on the land of Kirron," Ippino started, "I can feel it in my bones that my final day is soon. I pray to you, in my final whispers, that as my friends lay my body by your beauty, you take me home -- to where I have felt my heart pull all these years. I wish to sink, in a final rest so I may never have to leave your embrace again."

A thoughtful rumble gently echoed through the water. “As you wish, it shall be done.”

Ippino threaded crooked webbed fingers through the seawater, "Then I have lived the best life, and have already died the best death." He looked up at the beauty of Ashalla, "Thank you -- thank you for always being with me during every moment of both."

A watery pseudopod wrapped around Ippino’s hand. “Continue to live this best life in the time you have left, Ippino.” The pseudopod released its grip and Ashalla began to sink back into the waves. “We will meet again.” Then she was gone.

---

---

The village of the Ubbo Tribe was quiet. Dozens of Selka stood outside the Chieftain's hut, shifting and whispering nervously. Some were weeping. No hunting or fishing parties had been sent out today; all were present, save for a few who were piling up wood on the beach. It was no day for work, or celebration.

Inside the hut was little better. Half a dozen Selka and one bird stood in solemn silence. In the corner, an old Selka lay on a bed of grass, leaves, and feathers. His whiskers were as white as his snow; his skin wrinkled and aged.

Time passed. His breath grew increasingly faint, and then, it stopped. The Selka looked to the brown-and-red bird who rested on a log, and the bird nodded.

Two of the Selka shuddered with grief. The chieftain's sons; Kalaf, a young man, and Arryno, still a boy. Arryno began to cry, and Kalaf put a hand on his shoulder while fighting back tears of his own.

"He led us well," spoke a tall Selka named Milos, one of the village's finest hunters, who along with Kalaf had begun to take up some of the chiefly duties as their leader's health decline.

"May he have a swift journey to the Pyres," whispered Alaina, the village healer, who had done everything she could but to no avail. Not even the miraculous healing water, which the tribe discovered long ago, had been able to stop the inevitable.

You should inform the rest of your tribe, a grim voice spoke in their minds.

Kalaf's tearstained eyes narrowed, and it looked as though he was about to spit out an angry retort, but Milos intervened. "Yes, we should," he answered in an equally grave voice. He looked to Kalaf. "Compose yourself. They need to know, and they need to see you strong."

Kalaf opened his mouth to protest, but instead he wiped the tears from his eyes and grudgingly nodded. And with that, he, along with Milos and Alaina, stepped outside to address the village, the bird fluttering after them.

---

"Chieftain Anhaf is dead," Alaina declared. "Peacefully, in his sleep; his time had come."

Several of the Selka began to cry openly at that. Others cast their gaze downward, or whispered prayers. A few seemed to take it in stride. Milos looked to Kalaf, silently urging him to speak. But Kalaf either failed to notice his gaze, or pretended not to, and instead stared ahead with a blank look on his face.

With an imperceptible shake of his head, Milos stepped forward. "Today, we grieve," he declared. "Anhaf was a good leader, who put his people first and led us from hardship to prosperity. He brought us from division, to unity. Now we say goodbye."

Those in the Ubbo Tribe exchanged solemn nods of agreement.

"And tomorrow," Milos continued, "we continue life as Anhaf would have wanted us to. We must elect a new chief. We must see to our tribe's survival. We must continue to find our fun and prosper. What would Kirron or Kalmar think if they saw us succumb to inaction and depression?"

Once again there were nods, though for some the solemnity had turned to determination.

"But those are problems for tomorrow. As I said, today we grieve. We put his body and soul to rest, and we hold a feast in his honour."

And with those words, a red-eyed Arryno stepped out of the hut. Two Selka followed, carrying Anhaf's body on a stretcher - two sticks tied together by vines. They carried him through the village, and all save Milos followed. They brought him to the beach, where a pile of fresh, dry wood had been assembled, and placed the stretcher atop. Arryn watched from a nearby rock.

There the villagers stood in silence, with nothing but the lap of the waves, until Milos came from the village with a burning torch in hand. The crowd parted, and he stepped up to the funeral bed, standing next to Kalaf.

"Does anyone have anything to say?" Milos asked.

A few stepped forward, and some quick stories or words of remembrance were given. One Selka, almost as old as Anhaf, recalled the day when Anhaf himself was elected. Another shared a story about how she and Anhaf had saved each other's lives on a hunt. Others were less specific, and instead praised Anhaf's leadership or his good character. Arrino attempted to get something out, but he became too overwhelmed by sobbing to continue.

And then, when it seemed nobody had anything left to say, Milos took another step forward. "Then it is time for us to bid Anhaf farewell. We give his body to the pyre on earth, and wish his soul a speedy journey to the pyre in the sky." And with those words, he handed the torch to Kalaf.

Kalaf stared at the torch for a full second, before reluctantly he took it, and then lowered it to the smaller kindling at the base of the pyre. The fire took a moment to catch, but when it did, it soon began to spread. Soon, the entire stack was ablaze, and the village watched their chieftain burn.

---

They feasted that night. Food was cooked over a fire, and then passed around. Despite the grave occasion, grief had begun to fall by the wayside with so many people together and free food being readily available. One Selka was singing while another banged on drums. Arrino and Kalaf sat alone, though many did approach to offer their sympathies and condolences. Arrino accepted them as graciously as he could, while Kalaf more or less shrugged them off, occasionally sending glares toward the divine bird who watched the festivities from a log.

Arryn's attention, meanwhile, was set on Milos, who sat with his regular hunting party, exchanging the odd joke or story. When the hunter rose to his feet to step away briefly, Arryn followed, landing on the ground a few feet away from him.

"What is it?" Milos asked.

"Your chieftain will be chosen tomorrow," Arryn said. Not as a question, but as a statement.

Milos nodded. "It is. Here is hoping Kalaf will be a good chief."

If Arryn could frown, he would have. "It doesn't have to be Kalaf."

Milos nodded again. "It doesn't, but it will. Anhaf was a good chieftain. Everyone else will expect the same from his son. Others will put their names forward, but they won't win. I can't think of a single Selka who has enough support."

"I see one right now."

Milos shook his head. "Anhaf hoped Kalaf would take his place, and he was my friend. I won't betray his dying wish." Then the hunter arched his eyebrow in suspicion. "And why would you? He was your friend too, wasn't he?"

"Friendship has nothing to do with it. Anhaf is dead, the living remain, and they need a good leader. Kalaf has some strengths, but many more weaknesses, and there are some who do doubt his abilities. They didn't voice it while Anhaf was alive, but now that he is gone, you will see these doubts emerge," Arryn lectured. "Besides, when Anhaf told you that, he thought he would have more time to teach the boy. He was wrong."

"And you think I'd be better?" Milos asked, though his voice betrayed no doubt or skepticism.

"I know it. And you know it too. You are decisive, your judgement is sound, and the people trust you. I will not tell them to choose you, and I will not force you to do anything. But if you care more for the many than you do for the few, you will put your name forward." And with those words, Arryn fluttered off, leaving Milos alone with his thoughts.

---

"Brother?" Arrino whispered. "I see you scowling at Arryn. Why?"

Kalaf gave Arrino a flat look. "Because he killed our father."

"What!?" Arrino was shocked. "What makes you say that!?"

Kalaf sighed bitterly. "Arryn did not kill our father directly, but that bird is responsible for his death nonetheless. His last visit was years ago, but he returns just as our chieftain's health is failing. He knew father was dying, but did he do anything to help? No. He let him die. Father's death is on Arryn's head."

"No, it isn't."

Both Kalaf and Arrino jumped in their seats, but the bird went on. "You fool. Everything dies eventually."

"But you have the power of a god. You could have prevented it!" Kalaf retorted through clenched teeth.

"Even a god's power is not limitless. If I saved every dead or dying creature I came across, I would have ran out of power long before your father's demise. We'd still end up here, only instead you would be complaining about how I saved too many lives."

"But why not just focus on those that matter!? Father considered you his friend. He was a chieftain. He was the first welcome worship of you and your g-"

"Those that matter?" Arryn asked. "Why should Anhaf be resurrected while others are allowed to die? He is more important, yes, but that's not a reason - there will always be another who can take up his role, and if there isn't then that is the tribe's failing for becoming too dependent."

Kalaf gave the bird a hard stare. "Tomorrow a new chieftan will be chosen. It will be me. And when that happens, I want you gone."

"Hmph, if you try to command me you won't like what happens. As for the chieftain... we'll see." And on that note the bird flew off, leaving the two brothers alone.

"Brother... I... I think he might have been right..." Arrino ventured.

Kalaf rose to his feet, drawing the attention of several others, but he did not seem to notice. "Do you?" he demanded. "Go on then, pray to Kalmar," he challenged, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Pray to him, and thank him for telling his pet bird to nobly allow our father to die." And with those words he stalked off.

---

The next day came, and at midday the villagers had gathered. Alaina stood before the crowd. Some had gone to her in private, and asked her to put her own name forward, but she had refused. She could not be both a healer and a chieftain, she claimed. Instead, she volunteered to host the election.

"Our tribe needs a new chieftain. Who will step forward?" She challenged.

Kalaf was about to step forward, but a young woman of a similar age beat him to it. Alaina looked at her with disapproval, for the woman was Kurunu; her apprentice. "My name is Kurunu. I claim the chiefdom!" She looked back to the sea of surprised faces. "Healers are meant to be wise, smart, and compassionate. So are chieftains! I ask you: why can't one be the other?"

A few nodded, but most were unmoved. After all, she was no true healer yet, and the real healer had already claimed the positions should be kept separate. Alaina shook her head. "Who else?" she asked.

Now Kalaf stepped forward. He took a deep breath, and then turned to face them. "I am Kalaf, son of Anhaf. I claim the chiefdom!" he declared to the assembled tribe. "My father was the greatest chieftain this tribe had ever seen. I swear by Kirron: everything you got from him, you will get from me."

Several Selka nodded now, and a few even cheered, but many appeared uncertain. Word of his outburst at the feast had spread, and how he carried himself at the funeral left many concerned at the state of his mind. Would Kalaf's grief hurt his ability to be an effective leader? Would Kalmar, who had answered their prayers and given much guidance over the years, desert them if they followed someone who openly quarrelled with Arryn? These doubts weighed on their minds. Kalaf seemed to notice this, and shifted nervously.

Alaina simply nodded. "Who is next?"

"I am Pallamino the Third!" another Selka declared, walking out of the crowd to join Kurunu and Kalaf. "I claim the chiefdom. Why? I'm the best fisherman this village has ever seen. I've helped build shelters. I've been faithful to both Kirron and Kalmar. I helped Alaina tend to the sick when she needed an extra pair of hands. I've even been on a couple hunts. What more could you want?"

"Someone who won't shoot me in the back!" Someone shouted out.

"An honest mistake, and with my help you survived!" Pallamino countered. "Hunting might not be what I'm best at, but the point is, I know a bit of everything, and that's why you should choose me."

Alaina sighed. "Next."

The next Selka to step forward was middle-aged, but carried himself with a certain confidence. The youngest of the audience did their best to suppress groans. "I am Hoshu. I claim the chiefdom!" he announced, before embarking on a lengthy speech about his history, beginning with the day of his birth...

"...and that's why I'm the best choice!"

Several Selka blinked, apparently having zoned out at some point, but they quickly cheered to hide that fact. And the cheers were genuine, too - it was a relief for the speech to finally be over.

"Who-" Alaina began, but was quickly cut off as another candidate put herself forward.

"I'm Leilani!" she declared confidently. "I claim the chiefdom. Now let's look at the facts. Kurunu is too naive, Kalaf is a shadow of his father, Pallamino knows a bit of everything except how to lead, and Hoshu is too long-winded. Then there's me. I never hesitated to volunteer for something, and I always called out nonsense when I saw it. So really, through process of elimination, I'm the only choice."

The other candidates were clearly outraged, and each looked as though they were about to offer a fiery rebuttal of their own making, when Alaina intervened. "Alright, that's enough! Anyone else?"

There was silence. It seemed as though everyone who had something to say had already said it. These candidates, however lacking they might be, appeared to be the only options. Arryn watched from the roof of a nearby hut, and shook his head.

Then Milos stepped forward. "I am Milos!" he declared, as the eyes of both Kalaf and Alaina widened. He hesitated, but then pressed on. "I claim the chiefdom!" He turned to address the crowd. "You all know me, and I'd say my actions speak for themselves. I've led dozens of successful hunts, I've always put in more than my fair share, and I was one of Anhaf's closest friends and advisors. It's no secret that in the past week, I've been acting as chieftain in all but name. So choose me, and I will lead you well."

And with that he fell into line with the others. Kalaf had a hurt expression on his face, before hardening into a glare which alternated between Milos and Arryn, as he put two and two together.

"Well, I... I think that's everyone," Alaina said. "Six choices. All six of you, turn around." The six candidates immediately complied, turning their backs to the audience, and Alaine continued. "The rest of you... stand behind whoever you wish to follow."

And so they did. The crowd split up into individuals, who dodged and evaded their way toward their chosen candidates, forming into lines behind them. The lines continued to grow, and once everyone was in place, Alaina to inspect the length of the lines.

Kurunu, six heads.

Kalaf, eighteen heads.

Pallamino, six heads.

Hoshu, two heads.

Leilani, four heads.

Milos... twenty-one heads. "Milos has won," Alaina declared after a moment's reluctance.

Those in Milos's line began to cheer, and patted the hunter on the back. In the other lines, Kalaf clenched his fists, Kurunu looked disappointed, Pallamino shrugged, Hoshu gave the hunter a friendly nod, while Leilani wore a devious smile.

Alaina herself kept her expression neutral. "That settles it, then. The tribe has spoken," she said in a guarded voice. "Milos will be our chieftain. Step forward."

The hunter was caught off guard by her passive aggressive tone, but he stepped forward nonetheless, and Alaina put Anhaf's sharktooth necklace around his neck. "What were you thinking?" she whispered, so that only Milos would hear.

"I thought I would be a good leader, so I put myself forward."

"Is unity not more important?" she hissed. "You should have stood behind Kalaf. You could have been his advisor. We would have unified. Now? We're divided. He and his followers will not forget this."

And with those words Milos began to regret his decision, but he could not let that weakness show. Instead he turned to face the crowd, and forced a smile, but realized Kalaf and a few others were already gone.

---