Tiben and Orb sat alone in the jungle. Being not far from the fertility tree, Tiben had ushered Orb to one of his secret little hideaways -- a small clearing fitted with a lean-to and a couple of logs to sit on. Eager to improve the meager area, Orb quickly added a large flat stone they had found to the center to act as a table -- impressing Tiben with their (while not superhuman) unusual strength.

Birds cackled above the pair as they talked freely in their little clearing, Orb clearly enjoying themselves immensely. With a soft rock, Orb was scratching small diagrams into the flatstone, eagerly explaining each mark. With his hands propping his chin up, Tiben listened intently, his eyes following each movement.

“And then you see, well, leading a civilization is just like any other problem -- there is no one solution and not every solution works with different contexts.” Orb explained as they finished the diagram hierarchical autocracy that Polyastera seemed to be proposing.

“What do you mean, exactly?” Tiben looked up from the diagram and at Orb. The mask went silent for a moment, a tiny twinkle behind the peepholes.

“I mean,” Orb rasped happily, “Look at your species and culture, you have different needs and requirements to flourish than say, my species!” They paused, “Well if they existed.”

Tiben hesitated, “Does that bother you at all?”

“Hm?” Orb looked up from their next diagram, one that looked rather less authoritarian than Polyastera’s.

“That you’re the only one, of you,” Tiben explained.

“No,” Orb answered with a reassuring nod, “I think one fills this world’s requirements”

Tiben let out a laugh, “You’re a strange one aren’t you?”

Orb’s fingers tightened around their drawing stone and Tiben shifted, “I didn’t -- I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

“Oh?” Orb rasped, their shoulders falling.

“You’re unique, it is good, this world needs more out of the box thinkers,” Tiben encouraged.

“Is that why you want to become a leader?” Orb suggested, a small dance on their shoulders as they continued their drawing.

Tiben stared for a while before his face turned serious, “To be honest, no. I don’t even want to be a leader.” Orb looked up at him, their shoulder dance stopping. Tiben ran a hand through his hair, “I was in the heat of it and I just snapped.I just don’t want someone like Polyastera to be the leader of these people. I’m not the only one who thinks that way, I mean look at her, she is very openly selfish and clearly only in this for self gain -- it is just no one has the courage to really speak up because of her fanatics. If she leads, there might be- no... there will be a lot of suffering down the line.”

“So you are doing this for selfless reasons?” Orb’s eyes twinkled as they stared at Tiben. Tiben slanted a smile into his cheek and slowly shook his head.

“I wish I was that honest, Orb.” He sighed, “But really, I do have some things to gain. I- Well I really do want to be known for something, to actually do something that leaves a mark. I don’t want to be a screw up, anymore.”

“Screw up?” Orb placed their rock down neatly and sat up, “What is wrong?”

Tiben let in a long inhale, “Orb, I have a son-- I have had a son.” He looked away from the mask, but Orb shifted slightly to stay in his sight. “It was with a woman I ended up hating and sure enough she ended up hating me as well. I just wasn’t for her, but the seed was already planted. I’m sure she feeds him plenty of reasons to hate me, as well.”

“But you said-”

“Yeah I know, during my little rant, I know. I was in the heat of it... I don’t know, Orb. I guess some piece of me thinks that if I did this, and set everything right, that it would magically fix my relationship with my boy as well -- or at least do something,” Tiben tossed a pebble at a tree, “Rather than continuing to just waste away.”

Orb fell silent for a while and stared at their cloaked lap. After a small bout of fidgeting Orb looked back up at Tiben, “I know a story.”

“Oh?” Tiben turned to look at orb.

“From my visions,” Orb nodded, voice full of care, “It’s about two brothers. They found themselves in a terrible place of violence and hate... and so they dared to change it. Everyone hated them for it, of course... except... well.” Orb tapped two index fingers together, “Do you know who didn’t hate them for it?”

Tiben shook his head and Orb gave a hidden grin, “Their children.”

With a slanted smile, Tiben let out a soft chuckle to himself, “Thank you, I think I needed to hear that.”

“You should talk to your offspring,” Orb insisted with a hidden smile. Tiben nodded.

“I will, after this.” He smiled.

“Good!” Orb said enthusiastically before picking up their drawing rock again. The sound of scratching rocks filled the tiny clearing as the two sat in silence. Tiben watching intently, with something clearly on his mind.

“Hey, Orb?”

“Hello.” Orb said without looking up from their drawing.

“Since you were born...” Tiben started, “How many people actually talked with you?”

“Plenty, we are doing it right now, even,” Orb insisted.

“No, I mean... talked with you, as in not at you, not to you, but with you. Like-- yeah, like this.”

Orb looked up, their enthusiasm draining from their voice, a tired rasp replacing it, “Not too many.”

“A shame,” Tiben shook his head, “Because I’ve only known you for so long and I can already tell that you have a lot going on behind that mask.”

“Too much, sometimes!” Orb’s eyes twinkled at Tiben and he could feel their smile, “I’m really glad that you haven’t tried to condescend to me, yet.”

“I don’t think I could,” Tiben looked down at Orb’s drawing, “Not while knowing you have all of this tucked away. I mean, you even learned our language in a matter of days!”

“It was like putting together a puzzle,” Orb happily chuckled, “I enjoyed the process.”

“Well, I’m just glad that we’re friends, then, especially at a time like this,” Tiben said idly.

“Friends?” Orb stared at him for a second too long, a curling smile hidden under their mask.

“Yeah,” Tiben nodded, “Why not.”

Orb goofily laughed to themselves a few times, not really saying anything. After a second more, they cleared their throat, “Maybe when this is all over and the next sequence has begun, everyone can be friends... even Polyastera.”

“I don’t think that will happen,” Tiben conceded, “No, I have a feeling this might get violent if dragged on too long. I’m hoping Lord Shengshi might hear my reasons before Polyastera tries anything stupid.”

“Stupid, like what?” Orb asked with a tinge of worry in their rasp.

“Well, there is a reason I called Polyastera’s group a bunch of fanatics. Sometimes I wonder how much danger I just put myself into,” Tiben shook his hands, noticing Orb’s growing silence, “But we don’t have to talk about this -- no let’s change it to something a little more light.”

“What’s your son’s designation?” Orb asked suddenly.

Tiben flinched, “Not exactly light... truth is I don’t know.” He quickly defended himself, “I didn’t get to see him born and well my ex-lover kept him away from me for so long after, that by time I had the courage to confront her, I didn’t have the courage to confront my child whose name I didn’t even know. How am I supposed to just-- walk right in after that?”

Orb shrugged, “I apologize.”

“No, it’s fine... I’ll.” Tiben gulped, “After this, I swear to Orvus, I will see him.”

Orb nodded, “That’s good.”

Tiben sucked in a breath, “So tell me about the mysterious Orb, then?”

“I like to make things,” Orb said simply, “I find nebulites increasingly complicated, and I enjoy fruit (for my body).”

“That’s a start,” Tiben laughed, before suddenly asking, “So what exactly is behind your mask?

“Oh! Uh!” Orb stuttered, caught off guard by the question, “It’s just a face- just my face.”

Tiben held up his hands, “I’m sorry for asking, it’s just that not every day do I talk to a masked stranger.”

Orb’s voice seemed to drop, “I thought we were friends?”

“We are,” Tiben slapped his forehead, “I’m sorry, forget I mentioned it.”

“I can’t,” Orb said after some straining. Tiben shook his head.

“Want to continue with the diagrams?”

“Yes!” Orb broke into their happy shoulder dance, “This one is modeled after a smaller civilization...”

---

Now that she’d gotten far enough from the centre of the Hunter’s eye, Li’Kalla felt comfortable enough to do what she had to. She raised her hand toward the sky and the sparse clouds in the sky all congealed and mixed into a humongous, deep gray mass. It crackled threateningly, dim flashes of light making their way out of the thundercloud.

As if on cue, a single blonde-haired Vallamir walked out from the thick bushes surrounding the clearing Li’Kalla had found herself in. She smiled warmly at him, hand still lifted straight upward at the cloud above her head. Truly, these mortals would do just fine. She noted with some disappointment however, when the Valla smiled back, that he had pronounced canines.

”Child, come closer.” She commanded, and the Valla obeyed. Once he was in front of her, bowing his head down slightly in sudden shame, Li’Kalla looked him up and down in appreciation and placed her free hand on top of his head. ”Fate is cruel, child. For if you had been blessed with even one Streak of Divinity, I wouldn’t have done this to you.”

The Valla remained silent for a moment, and then hesitantly looked up at his Goddess, his brown eyes twinkling with an innocent curiosity and admiration that quickly turned to fear once he saw his Goddess’s dark expression. “W-What do you mea-”

BOOM

The very earth exploded as mighty lighting came down from the gray skies. A bird passing overhead was burnt to a crisp, leaves were disintegrated and trees were blown back. A wave of electricity spread throughout the Hunter’s eye, washing over every single Vallamir and calling forth those worthy enough to receive the message. And, in the center of the ruined land that had once been a lush clearing, the only things left were a Goddess with a hand stretched toward the gray skies, and the charred remains of what could have easily been sentient or beast.

Li’Kalla looked down at such remains, unfazed by the tremendous force she had just withstood.

”’Follow the rain, heed the call of thunder.’” Li’Kalla relaxed and nodded somberly, and the burnt earth beneath her feet twisted and moved to cover and bury the remains of the First Sacrifice. ”You had a resillient enough brain to withstand emitting such a large-scale message. Unfortunately, your frail body wasn’t built to survive such enormous amounts of energy. Your Sacrifice has served me well, Child.”

And so, Li’Kalla took in a deep whiff of the electrified air, smiled and started walking. Her destination? The ugly, disgusting island she’d stumbled upon earlier. She would conquer those lands and shape them into something worth living in, as an eternal symbol of her power and foresight.

---

It had been a difficult journey. One thousands of kilometers long, with heavy rain falling on everyone like metal pellets, and while being hunted by predators of all shapes and sizes.

Quite a few of Li’Kalla’s herd were lost to the wilderness, but those that remained had proven their superior strength and will. Even if those survivors had no Streaks of Divinity, they had earned their place in the new world Li’Kalla would create for them.

Eventually the herd reached the eastern coast of Kalgrun, and Li’Kalla materialized a Bridge for them to cross the channel separating Kalgrun and their new home. The Million Steps, a stretch of solid mist and rainwater, was translucent and yielded slightly to the weight of the mortals, feet sinking into the pliable surface. Still, it was completely safe to tread on, and the vast herd of Vallamir walked on.

For many days and nights, weeks on end, they travelled. Their sustenance consisted of no more than rain-water and birds and fish that Li’Kalla offered to them, and so they survived. And at long last, the first Vallamir to step onto the Island was a white-haired gray-eyed male. His eyes lit up brightly upon touching the earth of his new home, and he turned with a grin on his face to his Goddess, who responded in kind with a warm, motherly smile. She walked past the male and turned around to face her herd, her heart racing.

”My Faithful, let it be known that henceforth all of you with Streaks of Divinity shall be known as Valthumir,” Li’Kalla explained, furrowing her brow and projecting her voice through the air all the way to the Valthumir and Vallamir at the back of the herd, ”Guardians of Purity, my Chosen Faithful whose duty it is to ensure the beauty, efficiency and superiority of this new civilization.”

All the Valthumir responded positively. They cried, laughed, cheered, screamed in excitement and some merely smiled and nodded. Li’Kalla extended her free hand toward the herd and motioned for them to settle down, and so they all, Valthumir and Vallamir, quieted down and sat down on the ground and The Million Steps.

”And those of you with no Divinity in your bodies, the Vallamir,” Li’Kalla turned her gaze onto those inferior specimens, with colored hair and eyes and wilder traits to their bodies, ”Know that Faith and Diligence will never lead you astray. You will be productive members of this civilization and no matter your position, your support will allow the Valthumir to carry out their tasks of Purification and Beautification. Hold your heads high as you Faithfully serve the Valthumir.”

Li’Kalla watched the mixed reactions. It was to be expected, no one wanted to hear the truth, especially being a new arrival into the world. But still, some seemed content.

”In time, you shall see the blessing of having a clear path to follow, Children. It is a blessing your Valthumir brothers and sisters are not fortunate enough to have.”

At those words, the tension in the air dissolved and the Vallamir seemed to sigh in relief.

The Goddess of Rain smiled at her herd one last time, ”Before we begin builing the greatest Civilization this world will ever see, there is a law you must know and follow, no matter what happens. Procreate only with those within your own group, and all Valthumir and Vallamir must procreate.” Li’Kalla’s expression hardened for a moment, and the herd grew quiet. Soon, however, she exhaled a deep breath she’d never taken and smiled gracefully, ”It is time, go forth into your new lands. Explore, settle, procreate within your groups, and advance into the future. Never for one moment stagnate, and always protect your family, neighbours and servants.”

There was a silence. It only lasted for a split moment, and then everyone jumped up and the herd erupted into cheering and joyful laughter and they ran off in groups into the wilderness. Some north, some south, but most east.

Li’Kalla looked up at the raincloud she’d dragged all the way from the Hunter’s Eye and chuckled, willing it to disperse slowly and safely and then letting her arm fall back down to her side. It really was a drag, having to keep her arm stretched above her head for weeks at a time.

Hours later, When she turned her gaze back to the surface, a few of her herd remained. No more than a hundred, and mostly comprised of Vallamir with a handful of valthumir mixed in. One of them was the one male who was the first to walk on the Island.

Li’Kalla stared at him intently, and he returned the gaze. “Goddess Li’Kalla, thank you.”

Li’Kalla tilted her head to the side slightly, looking at him with a glint in her eye, ”What for, Child?”

“For creating us, and giving us purpose. We will not let you down. I, Van’Kalla, shall make sure of it.”

The other mortals nearby stopped talking and stared at the male as if he was mad. The air seemed to stay still. A tension so heavy that the self-proclaimed Van’Kalla and his brethren were forced to take a knee, sweating and gasping for air, materialized in the area.

The Goddess kept staring at the mortal, examining his perfectly white hair, efficiently shaped body, shining silver eyes… Slowly, a grin broke out on her face, and soon she laughed and the tension in the air disappeared, ”Hahah! You are brave, Child. Adopting part of my name without my permission would normally be a grave offense to me.” In the blink of an eye, all mirth left her face and she nodded at Van’Kalla, ”You shall become the first of many leaders, Van’Kalla. Carry yourself with honor and pride, and do not besmirch my name. Your first task is to take all that remains of the Herd and follow me.”

“Yes, Rain-Mother, at once.” Van’Kalla nodded and immediately turned to his new subjects, shouting at them and getting them ready to follow.

”We will have to work on that title.” Muttered Li’Kalla.

Soon they were walking once more, with Li’Kalla up front followed closely by Van’Kalla, who in turn had 6 Valthumir close behind him. And of course, the 93 remaining Vallamir walked further back, as they felt they hadn’t earned the right to walk so close to the glow and warmth of their Goddess.

Where they arrived a few days later was a large, boiling lake, with a prominent mansion standing proud on top of a hill. Li'Kalla winced upon seeing everything in such a pristine state.

“Rain-Mother?”

Li’Kalla tensed up and sighed, ”Let’s see… Immaculate One, Cardinal Purity, True Queen-Mother… Any of those is acceptable, Child.”

“As you wish, Queen-Mother. So, what do you wish for us to do?”

”We will settle here, next to this boiling Lake. In time, you will build a great Temple for me to reside in. For now, however, you shall build your dwellings and live, and I shall turn this Manor into my palace.”

Van’Kalla bowed in respect and turned to leave.

”Face me.” Li’Kalla snapped, and Van’Kalla froze and turned around with some hesitation, ”We shall work on your etiquette, if you are to call yourself a leader. Bow, verbally confirm you’ve understood and then wait for my dismissal. Do it now.”

Van’Kalla opened his mouth as if to protest, but the way Li’Kalla tilted her head back and the manner in which her expression darkened must have made him think twice. He took a knee, lowering his head and closing his eyes. “Understood, Queen-Mother.” He nodded slightly in his submissive position, and Li’Kalla let out a small huff.

“You may go, begin your work at once.”

In a flurry of movement, the Valthumir stood straight and went straight to his group, most of whom were now exploring and entranced by the boiling lake.

Once no one was watching her anymore, Li’Kalla rubbed her temples and sighed, ’I definitely need help teaching proper etiquette to these mortals.’

---

In his cave, Ya-Shuur was putting the finishing touches to his latest addition to his great biographical cave drawing. Along with recording things he had witnessed or done, like the rebuilding of Li'Kalla's home or the amazing changes and new things that had been brought to the island by the birds, he also put drawings that conveyed his ideas about life and justice.

The biggest of these was a large drawing of a horned humanoid sat down with eyes closed. Around him there was mist and nothingness, but inside him there were trees and animals and stars and mountains and many glorious things. It was a reminder to himself to focus on his inner self, which was the only thing in the world anyone could truly control. The outside world was beyond one's power, only over one's self did a person have any true control. So one had to strive to be the best version of themselves that they could possibly be.
He was a shepherd, so he strove to be the best shepherd he could possibly be. He was a protector of this island, so he sought to be the best protector he could possibly be. This was not only about doing things, it was about being things as well. A good shepherd had to be calm and patient. A good protector had to be perceptive and quick to act, but also wise. He had to have empathy and courage, and also control over base emotions like anger and greed. All these things and more Ya-Shuur sought to cultivate and perfect in himself.

Ya-Shuur was satisfied and he threw the bloodied charcoal away and was about to leave the cave, but then he paused and looked behind him into the darkness. Over the years his drawings had taken him deeper and deeper into the cave and now he was wondering how deep it went. With his walking stick in his hand and Behr-Aak, a descendant of Behr-Aat, at his side, he walked into the darkness. Behr-Aak mewled in fear as they went further and further in, and now even Ya-Shuur was struggling to see in the terrible darkness. He felt ahead of himself with his walking stick. There was something... soft.

And then suddenly Ya-Shuur saw the dead goat. It was rotting, its mouth agape, red worms and other creatures devouring it. It bleated at him and Ya-Shuur recoiled in horror and confusion. The goat bleated again and moved. It was coming towards him. Behr-Aak growled and barked so loudly that the cave shook. The horror goat paused for a few moments, but then it continued kicking and frantically going towards Ya-Shuur.

Ya-Shuur was not sure what this creature was. It did not feel like a normal animal. He gripped his staff and stepped forward, and at his command a tremendous light erupted from his staff. The darkness screeched and fled, and suddenly the goat was no longer there. There was only a throbbing orb that seemed to be wrapped in translucent skin. It moved around and Ya-Shuur could see that it was attached to something in the ground. Just as he thought this the ground shifted and began to fall beneath him, and a huge mouth suddenly appeared and attempted to envelop him.

The creature's face seemed to be entirely mouth, and Ya-Shuur thought it to be a great worm of some kind. However as it emerged from the ground and and into the light, it gave off a screech and quickly retreated, and the orb also retreated below the earth. They seemed to have been connected in some way. Perhaps, Ya-Shuur thought, that was its tail and it hunted by scaring creatures with an illusion emitted by its tail until they were right above its mouth, which was when it consumed them. Still, Ya-Shuur found it strange that the illusion had been of a dead goat. It was almost like it was made specifically for him.

Ya-Shuur felt that there were likely many more things like that creature in the cave. But light seemed to be a good way to combat them, and he certainly did not want any such creatures coming through onto the island. So he lined up small rocks and made them shine with a great light all along the cave to its entrance. And when he emerged he exuded a deep breath and was glad for the cooling rain. But even as he did this he sensed that something had changed. There was a... heavy shadow over the land. A presence that was not entirely good. He took a drink from his gim-sa goatskin and, with Behr-Aak at his side, began walking once more.

He had not been walking for more than a week when he heard something strange in the forest. Quietly, the Horned One made for the noise and as he approached he realized that it was speech. Hidden in the darkness of the trees, Ya-Shuur found himself looking at a group of huddled humanoids. They had erected a barrier against the rain and were all sat around a strange red, hot creature, which they fed with branches and other things.

Each of them wore animal skin clothing, though it was distinctly different from the simple goatskin poncho Ya-Shuur wore. Their clothing seemed to be more skillfully made and parts of it seemed designed for hardness. Each had a long staff either at hand or lying nearby, though their staffs were far straighter than his own herding stick and had viciously sharpened tips of stone or wood or bone. They were eating meat as they spoke, though it was different because they had left it near the hot, red thing. Two of them had red hair, one had brown hair, and three had blue hair. As Ya-Shuur watched and listened, he heard them speaking about someone called the True Queen-Mother. One of the ones with red hair was saying how he rejected something called the Valthumir.

"You fool Daethyrd! Don't say things like that or she might hear you. You've already irritated everyone at the camp with your words." Said one of the blue-haired individuals. But the one called Daethyrd only scoffed.
"I am not afraid." He said simply, and then he suddenly stood up and his bright green eyes homed in on Ya-Shuur, and before Ya-Shuur could work out what was happening there was a spear in his chest. The demigod wheezed in shock and stumbled backwards. But Dithard, and Ya-Shuur suddenly noticed that these people had pointy ears, was already striding towards him. Behr-Aak barked a great bark that sent fear into the hearts of all the creatures, and even caused Daethyrd pause. This gave Ya-Shuur enough time to stumble onto Behr-Aak's back and the molf was gone.

Moments after Ya-Shuur was gone, Daethyrd was sniffing the air where the demigod had been. He got to his knees and touched the warm blood and sniffed it. It smelled like no blood he knew of, and tasting it confirmed that it was indeed different. What kind of creature could take a full thrown spear from him and be gone without trace within seconds? As he inspected the tracks he was quickly able to identify not one, but two footprints. One was humanoid (but certainly not of the Vallamir), the other a foreign canine of some kind. The elf looked into the wet darkness and his eyes narrowed. "Let's move." Daethyrd growled to the others. They would have to move quickly if they wanted to keep to their prey's trail before the incessant rain removed it.

They moved swiftly and after some days had tracked their quarry to a great cave. They were all surprised to find that a strange light that was certainly not firelight was being emitted from the cave. Just as Daethyrd was about to lead the group into the cave, a giant monstrosity unlike anything they had seen crashed suddenly before them and released a tremendous roar that echoed across the land. Then from the darkness of the forest before them and behind them other creatures emerged. They were very wolf-like in appearance but far bigger and with longer tails that ended in a sharp club, and there were other smaller differences. Daethyrd immediately knew that it was the footprint of one of these creatures that he had seen with the humanoid ones when this chase began.

Daethyrd and his group backed away, and he could taste the fear of his companions. Then there appeared a great shadowy figure on the cliff above the cave, with great horns on its head. Daethyrd's eyes widened when he realized that his spear was rooted in the shadow's chest. Before Daethyrd could do anything, one of his companions had dropped his spear and fallen to his knees. "F-forgive us!" Seeing this, the others also fell to their knees one by one and said the same. But Daethyrd refused to fall and continued standing with his new spear gripped tightly.

"Who are you!?" The proud elf shouted. The dark shadow on the cliff was silent for what seemed to be a long time. But finally it spoke.

"I am Be'r-Jaz. I am the land." There was a pregnant pause. "Who are you, what are you doing here, and why do you seek to hurt me?"

The group explained that they were Vallamir and that they had been brought to this land by the one known as the True Queen-Mother, a mighty and powerful goddess and one of the four gods who had created them. They explained that the True Queen-Mother had dubbed vallamir like them to be inferior, and that the superior ones, the Valthumir, were ones who had white hair or a white streak in their hair. The vallamir were to be the servants of the valthumir. (Daethyrd scoffed when his companions explained this to the demigod, clearly not approving of this state of affairs). They explained that she had commanded them to mind the boundary between vallamir and valthumir and only to breed within their own group. She had also decreed that every single one of them had to procreate, after which she commanded them to go and spread across all of the island, always being mindful to protect their family, neighbors and servants. They had done this and established a camp along with maybe sixty others not a week's journey from where the cave was. Last of all, they explained that they were a hunting pack and had been out hunting for food, and that Daethyrd, being the rebellious type, had decided instead to lead them on this wild chase.

Ya-Shuur took this information in with silence. It seemed that there was now a new god, this True Queen-Mother, who intended to call Be'r-Jaz home too, and she had brought these strange people here. Not only that, these people had been created by four gods - this True Queen-Mother, one Kalmar, someone called Arae, and finally one called Roog. Ya-Shuur questioned them about each of these gods, and they told him what they knew.

"I shall walk south in a year, and I shall speak to this True Queen-Mother. Tell your people that Be'r-Jaz, the very land they now call home, demands justice. Honor the land, honor its creatures, cultivate balance and harmony. Do not hurt or mistreat others without just reason, and in all things do not transgress beyond necessity. Do kindness to who do kindness, and withhold it from those who do not. Fulfill your duties and shun those who do not fulfill it and have no just reason for failing to fulfill it. Do not take what is due to another, and allot to each person their due. Ask after the blood of your kin, the price of blood is blood and the price of a hurt is a like hurt, and forgiveness is good. This I teach you, and I shall before long walk among you and I will teach you much else. But for now return to your people and take my words with you."

And the pack praised Be'r-Jaz and retreated from the cave. And they spread news of the god called Be'r-Jaz, who was the embodiment of the land and of justice, to their people. Word soon spread among the vallamir of this god, and many ventured to the Cave of Light and they saw the great drawings. And a shrine was set up in there and they praised the Land much.

The world was a flat grey. On either side of Vrog, the rocky crag they found themselves on seemed to suddenly drop into an unknown abyss. Behind him, the finger of rock stretched beyond sight, not that he had as much, and in front of him -- the very same. He was not alone, however, and stacked impatiently close was a single file line of strange and various monstrosities. The queue was so dense that each sweaty back and achy shoulder pressed against each other, digging into Vrog as he stood in the same line.

He rubbed his head, trying to puzzle together how he had gotten there. Something in his hand clinked against his helmet, and a darting tongue verified that he was still holding the bong. Which was, as all evidence suggested, not quite loaded with tobacco. What the spit has he put in it at all? Not even drinking himself blinder than usual had ever ended with him waking up in a line. As if he would ever wait in one, and for an occasion like this!

Vrog's fingers fumbled around the cracks of his armour and produced his new pocket watch. Good thing it had not been picked yet in this mash. He snapped it open, listened to the mouth's clattering, closed it again. Scumgut, he was going to be late at this pace, and those idiots ahead did not seem to be moving at all.

With a growl of “Get outta the way, spitface” he shoved back an unnaturally contorted limb that was protruding into his armpit and began a ruthless work of claw and elbow, trying to push himself ahead among the tightly packed miscreations. 

Pushing and clawing, Vrog managed to force himself further in the line, only to find the end stil out of sight. There was a resounding ‘ding’ and all the members of the queue suddenly took a single synchronized step forward. The motion all around him pushed him forward in the middle of a precariously long step. Spitting and swearing, he stumbled forward, hooked fingers digging into someone's back as he reached for the nearest point of support. Bits of flesh seemed to easily fall from the victim’s back, letting loose a sickly smell.

His prop coming apart under his hands, Vrog found himself tumbling to the ground. A few inches from the ground, the concerted action of a dozen tongues stopped the fall of his head, though not before his much broader body hit the rock with a clang. He picked himself up with foam at a few mouths, hissing ghastly blasphemies under his breath, and gave the watch another listen. This just could not be right! It was this late, and now was the first time he remembered someone being called up ahead. There had to be somebody managing things, or else, and he did not like the thought, he really would be arriving that much over time.

Vrog spat a seed into someone's supernumerary ear, aimed a spiteful kick at the unfortunate back before him and began to shove his way forward again. No way a bunch of slaggers like this was going to keep him from making it in time, or almost. 

There was a tug on the muscles responsible for Vrog’s hearing, and just as his mind suggested a ding was coming, a terrible droning melody followed instead. It had no real ups or downs, nor real hook or impact -- it was just a repetitive pattern of bland notes. As if to compliment the grey sounds, a snotty sniffle sounded somewhere in the line followed by a single wet cough.

His fingers went to his temples, or what passed for them, and his teeth grit against each other. To his horror, they quickly turned out to settle along with the tune, if it could even be called that. He tried to make another push, but found that he was a hair away from letting loose and starting to tear his neighbours up, which, he knew almost for sure, it was better not to do right here. But if that music went on much longer-

No, cut that. He had to take his mind off it, anything would do. Not finding any better stimuli, Vrog's tongue stretched out and slipped through the crowd like an oversized earthworm, snaking its way towards the source of the sickly sounds. It went, and it went, and it went.

DING!

The line shuffled forward an abrupt step, the mossy armpit of some creature with at least eight somehow clipping the tongue into a loose grip. Another of Vrog's mouths spewed a “Gutted scrapass” as he tugged to pull his limb free. No use - the hold was not strong, but the armpit seemed to go an absurdly long way in both directions. That had to be flat arms, ridiculous. Without a warning, pointed teeth sprang out over the tongue's length, cutting into its captor. Fibrous and stringy flesh with the hue of rot shredded from the being as it dumbly shuffled away from the tongue.

There was another ‘ding’ and suddenly the line moved one massive step that seemed to disorient reality. As the greyscale world shifted and fuzzed away from Vrog’s senses, an entertained cackle filled his head -- and slowly as the world came back, he knew he was elsewhere.

Sitting on her throne, Diana was cackling madly, one arm wrapped around her stomach and a single tear on her cheek. Vrog's tongue, or what remained of it - a sizeable part was lost somewhere in the transition - whipped back into his mouth, in time for an annoyed scowl.

“Sure, it's all a laugh until somebody gets-” he stopped, at a loss for what somebody was going to get, while his cut-off tongue emerged again at the familiar smell. “Hey, it's you. Explains why nobody got a spitting moving proper fast.”

“Oh you,” Diana stifled her cackle, “Still as ugly as ever. I have to say, I’m liking what you did with your tongue, very creative.”

“No point not doing my best,” claw-tips self-satisfiedly scraped the ghastly amalgam of grime and iron that passed for a belly as the mangled tongue snapped and drooled about, “Can't say the same for you. Still the rottenest bitter around. You blasted up anyone else lately?”

“Only if you count their minds,” Diana hummed, “But that’s just as well.” She held out a hand and a teacup appeared between her fingers. Taking a hot sip, a sulfuric smell livening the room, she gasped at the taste.

“Wouldn't be much different in here either way.” Vrog's musing was interrupted by the waft of sharp stench. His tongue tipped dangerously close to the cup, then coiled back in disgust. “That's what you wanted that lake for?! You're sure as scrap wasting it, and yourself drinking this scumbroth.”

He tossed up the bong he was somehow still carrying, and it landed back in his hand as a battered metallic flask, smelling unbearably foul despite the lid. “Think you were in a run last time, but we're not late for a thing now, so-” with a deft twirl of his wrist, he tossed the flask over to Diana, “-this one's on me.”

A dark tendril caught the flask and gingerly placed it into Diana’s waiting fingers. She unscrewed the cap (her teacup floating on its own) and took a whiff under a wiggling nose. She bounced her eyebrows once and took a sip. With an appraising hum she slowly poured the contents into her sulfuric tea and handed the flask back to the tendril. 

“Thank you,” She mentioned idly before taking a renewed sip, a gentle smirk on her face (with jagged teeth poking out through her lips). Gulping once she let her eyes flicker across Vrog once more, “So what, oh what, brings you here out of all places, hm?”

Several of his tongues clicked in a mix of surprise, disappointment and approval as he drank from a second identical flask that had appeared from some unclear corner. “This,” he held up the bong, whose steam was not of the colour it probably should have been, “And whatever scrap I put in there, can't have been tobacco. But I was coming by anyway, got something from my main piece to yours.” A spat seed buried itself in the floor. “He can put it where nothing don't shine for all I care, but you know how bosses get. Your stunt with the screaming at night made a cry all right.”

“How silly,” Diana squinted with a smile, “But go on, I want to hear this.”

“Wasn't there when it went down,” Vrog took another swig, “But picture yourself this. He's got himself these slaves - gutted packs of muscle and scab, all of them. Millions. All they know is obey, work, kill, bunch of spitting killer machines, that's what he wanted. And suddenly,” he snapped his fingers with a metallic screech to illustrate just how suddenly, “he gets the lot of them wailing like a bunch'a snivelly runts! Hah!” The gurgling guffaw was drowned in another sip. “Can you imagine his face at that if he got one?”

“Ha!” Diana nearly spat out her drink, “That is too funny. I don’t know if irony is really the correct word, but having a supposed army of might turned to grovel at their first nightmare really is a pinch on the cheek.”

“Spitting right.” A few of Vrog's mouths continued to chuckle even as the central one sobered down after the flask left it. “But, whatever you're calling it, the one who's got to shovel this slagheap now's yours truly. He wants to yell at the scrapper in charge here, and I'm the only mouth he's got.” The mouth in question went through a few pensive chewing motions. “Truth, though, that really your boss who did it? Thought the whole thing stank sorta like you.”

“Oh well, who can really say?” Diana curled a bashful smile, “As for your boss, I don’t know what he is expecting to accomplish, but I suppose you can just say you did ‘accomplish’ whatever that may be.” She wiggled her nose, “Would you care for a blistering steam?”

“Know what, let's go with that. Not like the gutface can peep in here.” The central mouth twisted back upwards in a filthy grin. “Bring it on.”

“Very good!” Diana smiled. With little else a rope uncoiled from an unseen ceiling and with a hearty tug, a pillar of screaming steam blasted over Vrog.

A sound like psscha followed the watery howl, and a damper, hotter Vrog hobbled out from the cloud. He poked disappointedly at the rivulets of dirt running down his person. “You didn't say this thing'd clean me,” he grumbled, “but I'm feeling a bit lighter now. What'd you think?”

He opened his mouth, and a burbling sound like a boiling swamp burst out of it, followed by a cloud of noxious vapours that roiled over Diana and her throne. Vrog scratched his jaw in wonderment.

Diana blinked through the cloud of gas, “Terribly sorry, I hadn’t a clue it would clean you.” Her smile indicated that she was clearly lying, “So what do you intend to do now that you’re here and have finished your hard wrought quest?”

“Now? Tell you what, I'm in no rush to get back out.” Vrog scraped his finger-hooks against each other as if cleaning fingernails, though the latter were a notion as foreign to him as cleanliness. “You going to tell me you've got nothing fun to do in here? Places to live up, stuff to drink, people to hurt?” His grin became visibly hungrier with the last words.

“Oh! I know just the thing,” Diana beamed, “We could have a nice long chat about our feelings.” Her sickly eyes washed over Vrog, a wobbly stool appearing next to him, “Doesn’t that sound grand?”

He tapped the beaten seat with a finger, a mouth over his shoulder humming an annoyingly uneven tune. “You want that, you got to give me something better than tea. I'vet no scrapped near drunk enough for it yet.”

Diana cackled, “I’m surprised you even considered it. I have half a mind to call your bluff now.”

“You haven't seen me when I've had enough. Can't say I have either.” Claws pensively clinked against each other. “Be nice to find out if there's enough breakables around to last me till I hit it.”

“Hm,” Diana tapped a finger to her chin, “Would you like to find out?”

“Damn right.” Wary as he might have been of being given the exact opposite again, Vrog could not but produce a large grimy keg in expectation.

“Why don’t you lie down,” Diana suggested, and pointed a finger to where a ceiling should be. In the endless expanse above, a single rusty nozzle poked down, a drip of alcohol forming on its edge. Diana arched a brow, “And let’s just hope we get most of it into one of your many maws.”

“Don’t worry about that,” the keg was tossed away as Vrog took position under the nozzle, laboriously angling his head upwards in spite of his lack of a neck, “I can accommodate.” His largest mouth stretched even wider, far beyond what should have been possible, while the body underneath flattened itself with rubbery ease. The toothy edges seemed to span from wall to unseen wall, or such was the oppressive feeling inspired by their incredible breadth.

“Now if only some more fleshpods were beyond that nozzle,” Diana mused to herself with a wink. She sat forward in her chair, eager to watch the show and with a snap of her slender fingers, a torrent of burning alcohol flooded out from the nozzle at rapid speeds. 

“Rather have it fla-” was all Vrog could manage before the stream drowned out his voice, the mouth it came from and the throat behind it in a go. For a moment, it seemed that the fiery-smelling flood would spill over the brink of his maw, no matter how wide, and something like a fountain appeared in the center where the jet rebounded. But, unaccountably, the tide of spirits inside him abruptly began to ebb, funneling down through unknown passages into a bottomless well. His body began to bloat horizontally, and iron plates drifted apart, letting pieces of the fluid abomination underneath drip to the floor. The rush of the updraft in the middle gave way to the satisfied gargle of a whirlpool.

It kept pouring down. The mouth and everything underneath were stretched so far as to disappear into the distant corners of the surrounding space, but still the flow gave no sign of thinning. The enormous pool that still retained some broad similarities with Vrog twitched faintly around its circle, then again, more determinedly. With a monstrous effort, the ring of the mouth lifted itself up and shrank, tapering up around the stream like a rotting cone of flesh. Something creaked, churned, snapped, and the enormity twisted and folded itself in a kaleidoscope of mutilation, rust and putrescence. A chaos of organic forms reigned for a moment, and then it was over, a noticeably swollen, but otherwise not greatly changed Vrog standing where he had been before. One of his mouths was stretched out in a broad-ended tube over his head, like some grotesque proboscidal umbrella, while the rest grinned stunnedly, but contentedly. Not a single drop had gone lost.

“Thhat’ss-” he tried a few mouths, checking if any were not drawing out sounds, then pulled and stretched something inside one with a hand before continuing, “-gutsdamned amazing, never once had this good a chug- you, really-” he jabbed a finger with some hesitation, but surprising accuracy in Diana’s direction, “'re the worst- best- whatever, the most,” he gave a meaningful pause, as if about to carry on, but slipped off from the line of reasoning and continued less fragmentedly, “Guts’ luck there’s someone in a spithole of a place as this-”

He sliced off the proboscis with a neat swipe, and the severed mouth remained hovering in the air, catching the downpour into a now invisible throat. His figure continued to bloat at a slight pace notwithstanding. 

Diana clapped her hands with glee, “I’m glad to be of service, now if only you were a mortal so I could make this mindset stick to you in the waking world.” She bit a jagged fingernail, “I can only imagine the fun little scenarios you would end up in.” A wide smile formed on her face, “Do you want to do it again?” 

A spell of thoughtfulness, such as it was, came over Vrog. “Mortal, no mortal, I'm sure as guts going to feel this up here when I wake up,” he tapped the side of his helm, “The best cure for that is to have some more, so,” he concluded, once again beatifically, “sure as the slagged pit I do!”

Diana smirked and waved a hand, the floor under Vrog suddenly dropping. Vrog dropped into a dark pit, the fall seemed to last forever, until finally there was a loud splash that he knew all too well. Diana called down from the top floor, her voice a hollow echo, “There you are!”

His tongues darted into the fluid, drinking it in hungrily with leech-like maws. Beatitude became toxic fervour. “Said it - the most!” he bellowed upwards from an unclear number of mouths, “You're a real-”

He launched into such an atrocious, innominable invective that the dank walls scrunched up into simulacra of horrified faces that wept bloody streams. The most hideous words of every language between Barrier and Core, and a few that could not quite be placed, mingled with blasphemies against every divinity that came to mind. Between the euphoric voices in which they were shouted, the various speaking organs growing steadily more discordant, and the rebounding echoes, the cacophony was such as to permanently deafen any ear of less than godly strength.

When he finally ran out of breath, Vrog spat out something stuck in one of his throats. A splash was followed by a squeal, and a porcine snout joined the gurgling chorus followed by a mad cackling from above.

“By the way,” he followed his apocalyptic tirade with a familiarly matter-of-fact tone, “I got these funny little people you dropped. Want me to put them anywhere particular?”

“Oh, I can think of a few places,” Diana mused out of sight.

“Tell you what,” he briefly went under as the piggut tried to clamber over him, then shoved the creature away and bobbed up again, a fair bit more swollen, “I'll think of some too, then you tell me how close I got.”

“Oh, this ought to be a delight,” Diana cackled, “Name your first!”

Some meditative gargling, then “How 'bout - a place where they got whelps to snatch? Can't name any now, but I'll sure find at least one.”

“See, I was thinking about something a bit more... disturbing,” Diana’s voice dipped, “But if you really are serious, then how about a little tip -- if you promise to spread the misery?”

“Hey, was just one idea,” the answer from the well came with joking offense, “I'll spread you that and worse!”

“Then listen close, you ugly hunk of delight,” Diana called down, “There is a festival of new and young minds on Galbar. So fresh, so naive...” She cleared her throat, “The best part is the variety, an entire cluster of continents and islands in the northwestern hemispheres. Maybe try your luck there.”

“You cann-” the voices intoned with the cadence of a bawdy song, “count on me to-” the following part was largely indistinct, drowned as it was by cruel enthusiasm, but the bits that floated up did not presage anything good for whoever inhabited those places, “-them! Aalways count on me!”

Some more sputtering mixed with chopped-up delighted excoriations in Diana's direction, abruptly interrupted by a grunt and the sound of a fist hitting the surface.

“'Fact, so you know to remember-”

A knife whistled up the pit, thrown up with phenomenal force. Its rusty, jagged blade was adorned with a crudely scratched All my loathing - V.

“Be rude not to leave nothing back for everything,” followed the eager, if not very cohesive explanation, “Should be good for nails.”

“I do like to look presentable.” Diana called back down, “I’m nothing if not a perfectionist.”

“Can't say for looks, but you got the right track with the rest,” the garble of voices was beginning to grow fainter, receding to greater depths. “Keep at it and they'll gag on their guts soon as you're near. Tell me how it works out next time.”

The churning spiked up into the roar of a cataract, and over it rose, like a chorus of wrathful damned souls, “Catch you later!”

Then silence, darkness and the all-pervading smell of alcohol.

---

Not a week later, the two Dragonborn, being carried like toddlers by Orvus and with only minimal keepsakes, flew over the last leg of the journey. It hadn’t been an easy decision, and much had to be left behind, but for Kellin’s sake the two of them went willingly. Orvus had assured them they would be safe in flight, and from the moment they left the ground the two could not stop thinking about flying. But the novelty wore off after the second day. It was not at all enjoyable to be carried as they flew. The god was strangely quiet during the flight, but told them about the Eye and its inhabitants, the Nebulites. And of his family. A certain sort of pang only a mother could know, went through Minerva’s heart at the mentioning of Ava, Arya, Laurien and Lily. His girls, but when Orvus himself opened up about the loss of his own baby, she shared only sympathy, and so too did Michallis.

The trip was mostly ocean, for Orvus preferred to fly over the vast blue waters. They did stop a couple times however, to stretch their legs, to sleep and to eat. If it all the God was annoyed by this, he did not say. Often times, he let them be until they continued on. As they neared closer, he became far more talkative, telling them about many different things and about the world and about the people who inhabited the Eye along with him. These Nebulites and Vallamir, who sounded exotic. What would they be like, she wondered?

Everything that the god spoke of, was refreshing to hear, having been isolated for so long and anticipation grew in her heart.

”...And that was how the Eye was born. Many, many ages before you two were alive, before most things were alive actually.” Orvus said mystically.

Minerva hardly knew what to think about that. The magnitude of such words was not lost upon her and in that moment she felt very small.

They then flew in silence for a time, small black dots appearing on the horizon. It was the Eye, she was sure of it.

The god then cleared his throat. ”I may not have been entirely honest with the both of you, but I am running out of options. You see, Laurien doesn’t actually know I’m bringing you. I apologize for my lie, but had I known you would have come easily, I would have told you the truth.”

Minerva looked to Michallis, both their brows furrowing at the confession. Laurien didn’t know?

”What are you talking about, Orvus? Why would you lie to us?” Michallis asked, his voice aggravated.

Orvus sighed, ”It’s too long a story to tell, and not even I know how deep it goes. Laurien is upset with me… So I thought I would bring her… Friends.”

”You brought us here as a gift!” Michallis shouted. ”You have to be kidding me, I’ve never even met this Laurien before. What am I supposed to do?”

”Why is she upset?” Minerva asked, frowning.

”There was a person she cared for deeply… She’s now felt the loss of losing that person twice, and blames me for it. Rightfully so. I am sorry I did not tell you sooner.”

”And he means to use us as a means to talk to her, Minerva. Come on! This isn’t right, and you know it.” Michallis huffed.

Minerva pursed her lips, ”Michallis, relax.” she sighed, turning to look at her partner. ”Laurien once helped me, and offered advice. So, we can return the favor but…” she looked forward. ”What do we get out of it?”

Michallis nodded his head, and looked at Orvus expectantly. ”I will provide shelter, food, clothing, and community. If you require anything else, simply ask.”

”I want to be able to hunt, whenever I want. Maybe a weapon or two.” Michallis said. Minerva gave him a smile at that.

”That can be done. Minerva?” Orvus asked. She thought for a moment and then said, ”I’ll let you know what I require when I can think of something.”

”Very well.” was all he said and before they knew it, they had arrived.

---

A crowd of tall, starry beings waited for them as they descended. They all came in a variety of different colors and the two dragonborn were mesmerized by the assortment. They landed before the crowd, and as soon as they did, two small children came running from the crowd, and ran right into Orvus’ waiting arms.

“Dad! You’re home! I missed you.” the starry one said.
“I missed you too!” the non-starry one said.

”Oh girls,” Orvus said, suddenly changing forms into a creature that vaguely resembled themselves, save for the lack of scales, feet, tails, ears, and… Well, the differences were noticeable. ”I’ve missed you too! Say hello to Michallis and Minerva, they are guests here.” and the two girls turned to them and waved.

“Wow! You guys have tails!” the more enthusiastic one said.

“H-Hello!” the one other one said, standing behind Orvus’ leg.

”Michallis, Minerva. This one is Lily,” he said pointing to the child that had gotten behind them to look at their tails. ”And this shy one, is Ava.”

Minerva couldn’t help but smile, both the feelings of joy and loss tugged at each other as she watched the two. ”Hello little starry ones!” she said, spinning her tail over Lily’s head.

Michallis nodded approvingly, with a soft smile.

Another figure, one that resembled the new Orvus, but female, pushed through the crowd. She was strikingly pretty and had a wide smile on her face as the two embraced each other, parting with a kiss. Minerva cocked her head as she looked at the woman’s pronounced belly. Another pang.

”And this is my wife, Rowan. And this my dear, is Michallis and Minerva, the Dragonborn.” Orvus said proudly.

”It’s a pleasure to meet the both of you.” she said, bending her knees and tipping her head forward. The two shared a look but nodded at the display.

Another figure then descended from the air. She wore something like scales, but pure white and had a very strange looking tool floating next to her. The dragonborn had to do a double take to realize that what they were seeing wasn’t a dream. The new woman’s face had a large smile upon her glowing face.

”So you found them.” she mused.

”Indeed I did. Michallis, Minerva, this is Arya.” he said, as Arya landed before the two Dragonborn. She inspected them and they inspected her before she laughed. ”Welcome to Nebulan, I hope you enjoy it.”

”Thank you, Arya.” Minerva said.
”It’s too bad I’m leaving, otherwise I would show you around. It was nice to meet you, brief as it was. When I get back, we can get to know each other some more.” Arya said, before turning to Orvus and the others. ”I was hoping I’d get to say goodbye before I left. So, girls, listen to your mother. Rowan, Father… I’ll be back. I don’t know how long I’ll be but… You have my word.”

“Bye Arya! Have fun in Pogland!” Lily smiled.

“Bye Arya, I’ll miss you.” Ava said quietly.

”Oh, I’ll miss you too, Ava.” Arya said, placing her hand over her heart as she hugged the two of them.

”Be safe, Arya. I want to see you returned with not a scratch.” Rowan mused, hugging the girl.

”Arya, know that if you need me… Well, you know the rest. Be safe, my daughter. I’m sorry about Laurien.” He said, hugging Arya briefly.

”Don’t worry about… I’ll be fine. I have two Gods watching over me, perhaps even more, after all. Do uh… Do work on that, yeah?” she said, giving Orvus a knowing look. The god said nothing, but the message was received. Arya then lifted off, turning to wave as everyone said goodbye.

The Dragonborn looked up and raised a hand in farewell. Both had no idea what was really going on, besides Arya leaving and furthermore, what was Pogland?

Orvus then turned to the two, and said, ”Come, let’s go fi-” but before he could finish, a fiery headed Nebulite landed before Orvus and his family, then bowed.

“My lord, my lady. I bring news. Laurien wishes to speak to Orvus.”

Orvus took a step forward. ”She wants to speak? Where? About what?” he asked.

“She would not say about what, only that it pertained to the Tree and Shengshi. As for where, she said you would know when I said, ‘Where death touched the land.’ And that was all.”

Without hesitating Orvus said, ”Of course, tell her I shall be there soon.”

“It shall be done, my lord.” the fiery headed one said, before taking off without much of a glance towards the two.

”You’ll have to forgive me for this, my friends. Rowan will take good care of you, I promise that, and when I return we shall talk some more.” Orvus said, changing his form mid sentence. He shared a brief goodbye with Rowan and the girls, then took off.

Rowan watched him leave, then looked at the Dragonborn. ”Well that was exciting. Uh, I’m sure the two of you could use a warm meal and a soft bed. Come on, I’ll show you home.”

Michallis and Minvera looked at each other and then to Rowan. Minerva then said, ”That sounds really nice.”

---

_{Moments after Li’Kalla came. Weeks before she prays to Shengshi}

---

She ran through the jungle, tears blurring her vision as she scowled. Orvus called after her, but she did not look back, she didn’t want to. She had been a fool, a lovestricken fool. To believe that Silver would somehow live on in Li’Kalla… Then to meet that… Thing.

She had been an idiot. A hopeless romantic. She should have known better.For Silver was truly dead and gone, and the pain of her loss had been renewed tenfold. She growled, running faster, the foliage becoming a blur.

She had grown to love Silver, short as her time had been with her, and she simply couldn’t get the little redhead out of her heart. She had thought about it for so many years, and had felt so much confusion, anger, and guilt.

Guilt.

She had promised she would return to her, and Orvus had said she would be waiting for her when she returned home. He had sounded so sure of himself, but the only thing that awaited her when she arrived, was a grave. And home became just a word. She thought she could handle it, but every little thing in that house, was a constant reminder of what was and would be no more.

But perhaps what hurt most of all, was the complete and utter rejection she received from Li’Kalla. Laurien had seen the goddess waver, there was recognition there of the name Chickadee, and yet… She had been turned down. She was no stranger to rejection, yet Li’s words stung worse than any other time. It wasn’t right to be with a woman? There was no point? That was not what she had expected to hear, and it only drove her crazy. She wanted her so badly, for love, to apologize for failing her, and to be together again. But Li’Kalla was not Silver, and that message had been conveyed perfectly. She had left her mark.

Then there was her father. The one who had willingly been the architect of her pain. She who had willingly left to find Arya, to protect her, to bring her home, who watched her for years- what did she get in return? Nothing but broken promises and false dreams.

No. That wasn’t right, was it? She had gotten to be a sister to Arya. She had a family. She had a people. Then why did she want more? Were those not good enough? Was it fair to blame Arya?

She slowed down her pace.
Her little- Well older sister. She loved Arya, she did, perhaps more than anyone else in the world. But she was so jealous of Arya. Her sister was loved by so many others. She was always first for everything, and on many occasion, Laurien was second best and nothing that she wanted ever seemed to matter. It always had something to do with Arya first. She who had been given Wreanon, she who Orvus cared more for-

So lost in thought was she, that Laurien exploded out of the forest, almost colliding with a group of Nebulites. Quickly she shifted her momentum, and rolled to the side before crashing into them. She laid there in a daze for a moment, looking up at the canopy before a red head looked down on her. Her eyes widened and her heart skipped a beat as she looked upon the familiar figure. ”S-Silver?” she said longingly, but she only saw what she wanted to see. Her eyes focused with a blink, and staring down at her was a Nebulite of flaming hair, and bright white eyes. She was joined by two more females, one of black hair and slim features and one of green hair that sparkled. They all looked concerned.

“L-Laurien are you alright?” asked the flaming head.

She opened her mouth to say no, but was betrayed by her own voice. ”Fine dears, just got carried away running is all.” she said with a fake smile. They all smiled back unaware.

Good.

Groggily she got up, and gazed down at them. ”And who might you three be?” she asked them as she fixed her hair, moving it away from her eyes.

The flame head spoke first, her voice oozing confidence. “You can call me Cassieopoeia.”

“My name is Vera.” The black haired one said, calm and collected.

“And I am Amphitrite!” the green haired one said enthusiastically.

Laurien nodded to each of them, her smile, infectious. ”It’s a pleasure my dears. So, what are you three doing out here all by yourselves?” Laurien asked, looking around. They were off the beaten path, in a small clearing. Through the trees she could see the Marble Star in the distance.

“We were out exploring, is that okay? It was Cassieopoeia’s idea.” Amphitrite said, while Vera nodded. Cassieopoeia in the meantime gritted her teeth as she looked daggers into the other two. Laurien found that amusing. Then Cassieopoeia turned to look at her and said, “Yes, it was my idea, but they came along willingly. We weren’t going to go far.” Laurien took a closer look at this Flameheaded girl and found that she liked what she saw.

She forced herself to giggle, and said, ”Girls, girls. No one cares if you explore, certainly not me. But a word of advice. If you ever do get into trouble for something, don’t throw another to the wolf so easily.” she winked.

Vera and Amphitrite looked at each other and then to the ground. Cassieopoeia held her head high, and that was when Laurien caressed her cheek. It was hard to tell if she blushed or not, but the slight quivering of her lips was enough for Laurien.

”You’ll come with me, Cassie.” she stated warmly, with her best smile.

Cassie blinked rapidly, and said, “And what if I don’t want to go with you?”

For once, Laurien hesitated. She had been denied before, and had graciously admitted defeat. But now something told her to press her advantage. It was easy to read that Cassie knew not what she wanted, but Laurien could show her. She would not be denied, not this time. She needed a distraction and badly.

She cocked her head to the side. ”You can leave of course, but I’ll be very sad. Perhaps Vera or Amphitrite would cheer me up in your absence?” she said, looking to the two of them. There was an eagerness in their eyes, but Laurien turned back to Cassie, and she found the same eager eyes waiting.

“Well, in that case, I’ll go with you.” Cassie said quickly.

Laurien took her hand gently. ”I’m glad.” she said in a sweet voice. She liked getting what she wanted and after all, she needed the distraction.

---

Much later in the night, Laurien held Cassie a top her, stroking the girl’s thick head of hair while they laid on her bed. The girl slept with a smile on her face, but Laurien did not pay attention. Instead, she stared up at the ceiling, feeling satisfied with herself, but it was quickly dispersing. She wanted to live this way endlessly, to stave off the empty feeling. To forget in excess. A life of luxury and desire, anytime she wanted, free of worry and doubt. Love, love all the time.

Her thoughts suddenly turned back to what Li’Kalla had expressed earlier in the day. That she could not love another of the same sex. She found herself disagreeing with that statement, for the proof was in front of her. There was no sense in shackling oneself to such limitations, when the world had so much more to offer. Anything could be loved. Well, perhaps not everything, but the vast majority that stood on two legs.

Even gods.

She had done that with Silver, merely a fragment of a god, but still held divinity. That had to count for something, right? She let out a soft sigh. She missed that little red head, more than anything. If only her father hadn’t murdered her, for apparently, no reason whatsoever. She had thought about forgiving him once, but after this, how could she?

He hadn’t meant for any of it to happen, she had to tell herself, but… it still didn’t hurt any less. He should have made sure that Li'Kalla had gotten fixed properly, maybe then Silver would have endured within her. He should have done a lot of things during those years...

She felt betrayed, and wronged, and so, so angry the more she thought about it. She wanted to lash out, to let loose and to cause Orvus pain, just like she had gone through. She no longer felt so ashamed about thinking such ways and it dawned upon her. The only person you could really count on in life, was yourself. If you wanted something then why not just take it?

No, she couldn't think like that entirely, for actions had consequences and she was merely a mortal… Unless...

The thought was dark and twisted, but it found a spot within her mind and settled right in. To get what she wanted, what she really wanted, meant she needed power. She sat up, cradling Cassie's sleeping form like a doll. The girl slept through the shift, but it wasn’t like Laurien was paying any attention to her anymore. Instead, Laurien’s eyes went wide with realization. To live deliciously, meant one had to sacrifice. To live without longing, one needed to indulge in pleasure. It was the only way to make wrongs, right. Silver would have wanted her to live on with passion.

And as a wolfish grin etched itself onto her face, Laurien knew what she needed to do.

---

The loop of transience it had found itself in was a curse to add insult to the injury of the memory loss. There was no home to be found in the places. The only common thread from where it started to now was itself, movement, and a lack of familiarity.

The spikes offered only pain. The hut offered a place of lonely respite that felt all wrong. The beach offered someone with an explanation. The continent on the way to this one offered amusement. The journey offered purpose.
But none of this offered what this “Kick” offered: familiarity. The protective rocky cliffs, the embracing stone trees, the watchful mountains. This place held an arms-reach familiarity in it.

This One was pulled up the beach by some part within it, and this is ever cold, yet Heliopolis is shrieking like a bird. The sky is eternal, and something creeps up from the core of This One. Something encumbering and slowing, slowing its mind to a crawl.

This One heard footsteps approaching, but had not the strength to see who or what it was. “An unusual sight, this is.” The person said. “Not only have you left your domain, but you also made it this far from its entrance.”

The person lowered himself next to This One, putting himself within the field of vision, but it didn’t see them. How could it, when all that mattered were the trees?

It continued to slowly crawl up the beach, paying no mind. The footsteps followed and the person kept pace with This One. Perhaps they realized they weren’t noticed given the silence, but they followed still. Or, he followed until This One collapsed, pieces rolling over the ground in a puddle, spreading further with each second, running down the beach.

Just before it reached the water it stopped, as if it had hit a wall. It slowly coalesced back into its regular form. The sand around it formed little pinpricks, rising up from the ground, pointing towards a curled up Eurysthenes.

The person lowered themselves next to This One again. “Eurysthenes. Can you hear me, brother.” The person called out. There was no response from the thing that was curled up, but the sand spiked taller. The person then laid their hand on This One and shook him lightly.

This One jerked around. The gaze it put forth, considering a lack of eyes, was like glass. Piercing and empty. The sand fell back to the ground in little piles. “Can you hear me, Eurysthenes?” The person called out, louder than before.

It crawled up the beach like a puppet, towards the other. ”Who are you?” it asked.

“Abanoc, one of your brothers.” The person replied succinctly.

It stood. Not in a way that looked natural, not even remotely. More how an atrophied person who was just learning how to walk again might. ”I was meant to find you for something.”

“Then it is fortunate I came for you.” Abanoc stood back up. “What brought you here?”

”I don’t…”
It looked at Abanoc, brows creased in a moment of painful clarity.
”I brought me here. What else?”

“Have you forgotten what you came here for?” Abanoc showed a look of surprised. So far Melantha had been the only god Abanoc had witnessed to forget. Perhaps this had been of her doing.

”I didn’t come here for anything, I just did!” This One shouted. It aggressively reached out towards Abanoc, and fell over in the sand. It looked up at its alleged brother. ”Help me,” it said, thick white fog spewing from its mouth.

“Calm yourself, brother. What happened to you? How can I help you?” He said while holding Eurysthenes’ arms to help him up.

The sand melted, thickening into a shiny black sludge which sucked This One down as Abanoc helped it up. It held on for dear life, pulling the other god down with it. ”How can I be calm whe- when the whole… is?

Noticing that the sand was pulling them down, Abanoc held Eurysthenes and lifted off from the ground, but the sludge pulled down with twice the force. It dragged and dragged, then leapt up, encasing the two gods.

And there was nothing but blackness and the two of them. The sky, the beach, the water. All distinctively separate places, but pitch. This One only whimpered.

Abanoc took in his surroundings, but didn’t notice anything that could threaten him, aside from the fact he was trapped alongside his brother. However he couldn’t discard the possibility of it getting worse. “You are losing control of your powers... If do not calm yourself I will not be able to help you.” He said maintaining his calm demeanor.

”Calm myself? Help me? How… how cou- could that happen, when…” it shouted, throwing its arms up in a vague gesture of ”everything”. ”You don’t. You just haven’t been here before or seen what I’ve-”

A thick white fog rolled in from the sea. The blackness folded back to reveal stars. They were falling, the wind was rushing around them, and the ground reached up for them. It was the Observatory, and it was ablaze.

For a moment Abanoc’s eyes widened, but he soon saw the vision for the illusion it was. His brows furrowed. “I am beginning to lose my patience. You lost your memories somehow and I have some power over that aspect of the mind. If you allow me to I can help you.”

The flames stopped flickering, the stars stopped twinkling, everything on Galbar below stopped moving. The world was at a halt, excepting the two gods.
”My memories? How’d I lose them?” This One asked. It was standing stock still, not moving a single piece of itself.

“Melantha has shown to be able to erase memories, even her own. Have you met her as of late?”

This one made a face. ”Who?

Abanoc frowned. Eurysthenes not remember Melantha was a very faulty proof of her involvement. He would likely not get an answer regarding how his sibling lost its memories. “I suppose that response is fitting… I have no records of you being present in Galbar as of late and I cannot see much within your Maze, so I cannot recall your memories for you… There is one thing that may work. If you’ll excuse me.” Abanoc raised his hands to the height of Eurysthenes’ face.

He saw the past few days of travel. To the beach, to the So’E, to what could barely be recognised as the “Maze”. And then he hit a wall of… sound? It stood there like a wall of black static. It was dark as night, but close as a closet. In front of him stood this colossal presence, and behind him were the memories.

He stepped forward, trying to delve deeper to find the secrets.

And sank into the wall. The static seeped into every pore, gushed into every orifice. It was like being drowned from the mind outwards. He felt the border of what separated him from this space fuzz about the edges, softening. His eyes, or the region where his eyes should have been, widened, and he flailed, pulling himself up. Outwards, towards where he came in, back to the memories he had just witnessed.

And fell out of the mind of This One, back into his own head, where everything felt glassy by contrast. Crisp edges, vivid colours. The sand of the beach was warm, and the sky was a clear blue. Eurysthenes was standing with its face ajar, looking up to the heavens.

Abanoc’s hands trembled, having been dazed by the sights. With a shake of his head he recovered and looked back at Eurysthenes. He had seen some of his brother’s memories, but there was a significant gap between his return to the Maze and his arrival on the shores of The Kick. “A gap… Parts of your memory just disappeared. No, more like a page stained in ink. I… I cannot recover your memories.”

This One looked down at Abanoc and made a confused face. ”Are you Abanoc? Orvus told me to find you.”

The question surprised Abanoc. He had already spoken his name to Eurysthenes earlier on the conversation. ”Their memory’s deteriorating…” He thought. He could already tell he couldn’t recover the damage done to his brother and it was spreading. The only questions Abanoc had now were how fast it would progress and whether or not it would bring the rest of their mind with its collapse.

“I know not that name…” His heart sank with his own words even though he knew nothing could be done about it.

”Oh, he’s another god. Either way, that matters less than the fact that I needed to find you. He said my memory was gone, but I remember everything just fine.” it said to Abanoc. Its tone was casual, nearly offhanded, which was odd considering the recent past.

“Indeed, you seem to be fine. There is no need to request aid, mine or otherwise.” He faked a small smile.

”Well that settles it, then. Goodbye.” the other said. It walked away, realised that it didn’t want to cross the ocean just yet, and sat down.

“In all my years I have never seen something so...cruel.” Abanoc thought as he turned to leave with a depressed look on his face.

---

Ohannakeloi found that managing over two thousand mortals in a very confined space with little to do was not particularly pleasant. Especially when split into two halves that could not speak to each other, that particular problem had created quite a bit of tension in his keep. And a great number of issues for Ohannakeloi personally, as each conflict or disagreement between one of the Vallamir and one of the Nebulites quickly required another that could understand both sides, most of the time when they had no real issue and instead simply could not understand that they agreed.

Ohannakeloi had summoned two of the number of mortals, one from each of the two races, to an upper chamber so that he may talk to them and stop this issue.

“Solun and Aefsige, there has been a bit of a problem, that being the constant disputes of little substance here in my keep. I know both of you have been very good in keeping your respective peoples calm until I can sort out whatever happened but I will let you know that it is less than idea this issue.”

Aefsige spoke, “Divine Ohannakeloi, I understand what you mean but it is difficult when there is so little space and with nothing much to do, I hope you can understand that we are simply stressed by this conditions and it does not reflect on your stature.”

Solun spoke next, “Divine Ohannakeloi, perhaps if you could create separate quarters for the Nebulites and these Vallamir we may be able to reduce the conflict at least until there is more to do, as there is little to do or act upon, except each other and without understanding that is more often for ill than good.”

Ohannakeloi snapped his claws, “I think I have a solution that would be of benefit.”

Ohannakeloi held out a claw and stone began to form, a divine stone most common to the divinely infused creations of Ohannakeloi. It was fairly long, if put at the base of the floor it would have been a third the height of Solun. It was decorated with several symbolic representations of Ohannakeloi and his creations. Ohannakeloi handed the scepter to Solun. “Take this and tap it to the forehead of Aefsige, carefully it is rather heavy.”

Solun did as directed, taking the scepter and tapping the forehead of Aefsige. At first nothing then Solun and Aefsige both felt a jolt as each suddenly learned the other’s language. The words came into their heads bidden from the other, connecting the meaning to the words and concepts they knew already in their speech.

Aefsige was the first to speak, in the Nebulite tongue, “This, this is amazing I-, it is as easy as though I were speaking in the tongue of my people.” He turned to the God Crab. “Thank you, Divine Ohannakeloi. This gift is very important, even if I still feel odd but this, is it permanent?”

“Yes, you now fully know each other's language. It may perhaps be wise to use the Scepter of Understanding on more of your peoples before I have to again assist in stopping their conflicts.” Ohannakeloi spoke letting some of his annoyance that had been building up get through.

Solun spoke, “At once Divine Ohannakeloi, come with me Aefsige, this will go easier if you are with me.”

The two went below into the quarters of the Nebulites and the Vallamir, initially just the quarters of the Nebulites as the Vallamir had taken to the lower levels of the keep. However the scepter allowed for the transmission of language, and that fact quickly spread, especially as it was of divine origin, quickly Solun and Aefsige only had to wait for others to come to them. Ohannakeloi hoped the spread of the two languages among the entire population would reduce the needless minor conflicts, soon they would be on Atokhekwoi, and Ohannakeloi knew just the place to settle them.

---

Xiaoli sat on a rotten, moss covered stool. Hermes sat beside her on her own, balanced on uneven legs. Both held their heads low, eyes staring down at a paled wooden table. Their breathing was steady, eyes scanning without leaving their spots. The sound of the forest echoed all around them, from birds to bugs -- buzzing and chirping. Tangled roots burst in and out of the soil around them, almost actively even in their stationary positions. Gnarled trees complimented the entire scene and blocked the ominous night sky above.

A great shadow was covering the pair, a beast of bones and marrow rising behind them. Teeth clattered and old joints creaked. The shadow shifted, as if the great monster was holding something aloft. Two arms raised over Xiaoli, and tension filled the air, and then all at once, the great arms fell--

SLAM!

A metal saucer hit the table, a cute little teacup chattering atop it. A gentle steam escaped the reddish looking brew and the Skeleton quickly placed one in front of Hermes as well.

“S-s-so,” The being contemplated, “You’re telling us-s-s that you are from Tendlepog and are here to s-s-solve a great s-s-sleeping mys-s-stery?” Bones creaked as the being sat upright in its own stool, the orb of light fluttering on one side of it, and the ghostly version standing blanky to the other.

“Y-yes,” Xiaoli mumbled in a quivering voice and took her teacup.

“Yes that’s right,” Hermes sipped her tea, it was tangy. She pursed her lips, and a little tart. The liquid swished in her mouth a little before she swallowed.

“And you jus-s-st experienced a land of great emotion?” The ghastly figure questioned, faceless.

“Well, it got quite emotional, I suppose,” Xiaoli conceded and had a reluctant sip of her tea.

“You s-s-suppose?” The glowing orb pulsed.

“Erm,” Hermes knitted her brows, “Off topic... but.”

“Go ahead,” The skeleton beckoned.

“Who were you three again? I almost don’t even remember how we got to-- well sitting here.” Hermes looked at Xiaoli, as if confirming this to be true.

“They never did introduce themselves, I think. We hugged and then suddenly, well, they were there. Truly, pardon us if you already did introduce yourselves.” To lighten the mood again, or perhaps just to feel a tad less sheepish, Xiaoli took another reluctant sip of tea.

“It was-s-s a nice hug,” The spirit complimented.

“Oh,” The Skeleton didn’t wear any emotion on its boney face, “I am Sk-Sk-Skeleton. This is S-S-Soul,” He gestured at the ghastly mimic of the skeleton, “And this is Sp-Sp-Spirit.” He nudged at the ball of light.

Hermes narrowed her eyes, a bemused smirk hiding behind the lip of her cup, “I coulda swore that spirits were just another word for souls.”

“It has a slight connotation of motivation and purpose, I believe,” Xiaoli added helpfully.

“Either way it’s-- what’s that saying you use from time to time, love?” Hermes made a thoughtful face, “On the nose?”

“Yeah, just a bit.”

The Skeleton held up a boney finger, “Is-s-sn’t your name ‘Xiaoli’?”

Xiaoli blinked. “And may I ask how you know that, master Skeleton?”

“You live long enough, you pick up a few things-s-s,” The Skeleton answered.

“I don’t think that saying can be used here,” Hermes scrunched her nose, taking a bubbling sip.

“What is a long life here in Limbo like, anyway? I reckon it must be quite eventful.” Xiaoli took in the surroundings. “I like the, uhm, natural setting. Quite harmonious.”

“I s-s-suppose it is-s-s quite s-s-similar to the land you’re from,” The soul answered, “A little different for each pers-s-son.”

Hermes blinked, “That was very thoughtful,” She complimented. The Spirit seemed to flutter at the words. Hermes smiled and looked at Xiaoli, clearly amused now. She pressed on, Poppler having taken over her cup,“Where did you come from?”

“Hmm,” The spirit hummed.

“The s-s-same place you and Xiaoli did,” The Spirit answered, “In a way.”

“So you are Tendlepoggan, then?” Xiaoli suggested. “Did Father K’nell make you?”

“Maybe!” The Skeleton offered, “But what I meant was-s-s that we both come from s-s-similar if not the s-s-same circums-s-stance.”

“What do you mean,” Hermes looked down at the brew-stained cloudling and then back at her hosts.

“Cons-s-sider a web,” The soul answered.

“Everyone has-s-s an epicenter, a s-s-start,” The Spirit continued.

“You come from one of thes-s-se branches-s-s, and it would make s-s-sense I came from a branch as-s-s well,” The Skeleton finished the thought, “Let’s-s-s see, the pos-s-sabilities-s-s are endless when you cons-s-sider that this web is no mere two dimens-s-sional craft, with the creator of Galbar funneling in so many cons-s-scious-s-ses-s-s from s-s-so many different-”

“Places-s-s,” The soul finished.

Xiaoli pursed her lips pensively. “So, if I am understanding this correctly, you came to be in this world as the result of some creation in a different universe from before the First Day and the closing of the portal? Or that you came as a result of it?”

The three looked at each other for a moment (or their best imitation of such a thing) before unifying with a, “Yes-s-s, before.”

“How is that pos-s-sible?” Hermes bit her tongue, realizing she accidentally mimicked their speech pattern. Poppler crackled into the tea, as if laughing.

“You’re a dreamer, you s-s-should know the lack of limitations-s-s when it comes to what is-s-s and what is-s-sn’t pos-s-sible -- es-s-specialy in regards-s-s to lands-s-s like thes-s-se.”

“It certain -is- possible,” Xiaoli agreed. “Many different spirits made their way into this world on the First Day. My question is, how on Galbar did you end up in here and not in the Pyres along with everybody else?” She put her empty tea cup on the pale, matte wooden table with a look of relief.

The Skeleton pointed a finger and Xiaoli could of have sworn she saw a smile -- somehow. The skeleton chattered on, “Is-s-sn’t that the ques-s-stion. Now, what if I added that I never have left the land you call Limbo, not before nor after your firs-s-st day.”

Xiaoli recoiled a little much in the same way she would’ve if someone told her a poor joke and she felt a need to scoff. “I would not believe you. Limbo only came to be after Father K’nell created it, so you must’ve snuck in somehow.”

“Cons-s-sider this-s-s,” The soul reasoned, “The creator of Galbar had invited many different kindreds-s-s from many different lands-s-s: do all thes-s-se lands-s-s follow the same laws-s-s as Galbar? Are the requirements-s-s for creation and life the s-s-same in all the lands-s-s tapped?”

“And cons-s-sider this-s-s,” The Spirit added with a pulse, “What if Limbo was-s-s never created by K’nell, but s-s-simply made available to Galbar.”

“And then cons-s-sider this-s-s,” The Skeleton also added, “How could s-s-such a creation live in a land where it is-s-s very s-s-seemingly breaking its-s-s natural laws-s-s?”

Hermes bit the edge of her empty cup, the cloudling tickling her nose as she thought hard. It took her a hard pause before she stopped gnawing on her cup and cleared her throat, “What if it isn’t?”

Xiaoli looked a little stunned at the possibilities of what the three forms suggested, so when she turned to Hermes, she looked a tad more anxious than usual. “Huh? What if what isn’t what?”

“What if it isn’t breaking the rules,” Hermes nodded slowly, “You all came in with K’nell - but like ‘IN’ K’nell... his consciousness powers you all... he is...”

The skeleton craned its head forward, “Go on.”

“He is... it.” Hermes finalized, “He did tell me, once, a very long time ago how his palace came to be -- and I never understood it.” She looked at Xiaoli, “The palace is K’nell’s dream.”

“In a way,” The Spirit added.

“Then why am I here?” Hermes asked, “What is the purpose of the Sleepers, and of you, and of all this?”

“If you are K’nell’s consciousness and the Palace is His dream… Have we been sent here to wake him up?” Xiaoli suggested.

“No,” The Skeleton suggested, “But we are waiting, jus-s-st it’s-s-s for you.”

“What?” Hermes squinted, “Explain, please.” Xiaoli could hear agitation in Hermes confusion, as mellow as it was.

“You need to let go, then you need to wake up,” Spirit answered, “S-s-so when you are all ready, you can ans-s-swer your final ques-s-stion.”

“Always with the snapping riddles,” Xiaoli muttered just loud enough for Hermes to hear. “So what, exactly, is my wife holding on to that she needs to let go of?”

“You s-s-saw,” The Soul answered, “Anger, s-s-sadness.”

“As-s-s a dreamer, she extends-s-s past were the normal mortal dreams-s-s and thinks-s-s.” The Spirit continued.

“S-s-she as a res-s-sult leaves-s-s thes-s-se powerful emotions-s-s behind, where they build and build until s-s-she can no longer escape them in the waking world. S-s-she must confront what s-s-she had unknowingly created here, to prevent this s-s-same event from happening in all dreamers-s-s.” The Skeleton finished, “It is-s-s the first s-s-step to paradis-s-se.”

“Abs-s-solution.”

Hermes frowned and leaned back in her chair, growing increasingly silent. Not even Poppler stirred as the Dreamer thought, “How can I confront these things?”

“Walk into the woods-s-s... find the night s-s-sky,” The Soul answered, “Confront it.”

“Ooooh no - she is not looking at any night sky anytime soon,” Xiaoli protested. “She froze up completely the last time she did, I mean… She didn’t--… How is this supposed to solve her issue?” Xiaoli seemed as though she knew the answer to her own question from the number of sighs and stops in her sentences.

“Xiaoli,” Hermes put a hand on her wife’s arm, “I think it is about time we confront these things, like they said. I’m not--” She put on a resolved face, “I’m not afraid.”

“B-but…” Xiaoli whimpered. “I am…” She took Hermes’ hand in her own and squeezed. “Can you promise me you’ll be alright?”

“Of course,” Hermes pressed a kiss to Xiaoli’s forehead, “I’ll have you.”

Xiaoli blushed a little like she used to and nodded slowly. “... Remember that you promised, then.” She turned to the three forms. “What do I do in the meanwhile? Can I go with her?”

“You can... but firs-s-st,” The soul started.

“A s-s-story,” The Spirit continued.

“Let this-s-s fable aid you in your coming days-s-s, in your confus-s-sions-s-s and may it aid all who hear its-s-s eas-s-sy words-s-s.” The Skeleton started again.

Hermes cocked her head, “Let’s hear it then.”

“There were three,” The Skeleton held up three fingers, “Blind men.”

“They had s-s-stumbled through the fields-s-s of Tendlepog,” The Spirit continued, “Until all at once, they had found a tree-eating beas-s-st.”

“The firs-s-st grabbed its-s-s tail and declared. ‘I have found rope.’” The Soul said, “The s-s-second pricked his-s-s finger on the tooth of the beas-s-st and declared, ‘fool! We have found a knife.’”

“The final man crawled on his-s-s knees-s-s and gripped the beas-s-st’s-s-s leg and yelled out, ‘Morons-s-s! This-s-s is but a tree!’”

“Know it is-s-s easy,” The Skeleton concluded, “To declare the incons-s-stancies-s-s of another, and harder to admit your own ignorance of the larger picture. Pers-s-spective is key, do not find frus-s-stration -- find contemplation.”

Hermes pinched her chin, her cloudling friend wisking into her hair as she thought to herself. “I can see the wisdom of your story,” She smiled, “Will it be as useful as you say?”

The Skeleton nodded and Hermes turned to Xiaoli, “Then, are you ready?”

“I should be asking you that,” Xiaoli giggled rhetorically. “Just… Yeah, come back to me, alright? I’ll be right beside you for when you do.”

Hermes grabbed hand as she stood up, tucking it close to her, “I know.” She gave a cheshire grin of her own, anticipation and anxiety hiding behind her eyes.

---

The forest parted for the trio as they walked, Poppler hiding in Hermes’ hair, zapping with what could have been its own apprehension of the entire ordeal. Hermes didn’t realize she was holding a breath, and let a shallow exhale escape. The forest was hazy, and as much as she hated the haze, she didn’t want it to fade. It’s sheen kept the distance unclear, and with that ignorance there was a certain comfort. The great viel hid the sky beyond the trees, but it was fading fast, each step bringing Hermes closer to confrontation. The end of her quest was near, she figured, but at the same time she could help but hope that it also wasn’t the end of her, or her children. The warnings of the three strangers floated with her, knowing that she had to do this, to ensure peace for her babies.

With a crunch, the two stepped over a final branch, the trees suddenly all behind them as they stepped out into an endless field of dull orange grass, almost like Tendlepog in the autumn. Hermes couldn’t help it, and in seconds her eyes snapped up. The great open night sky glared back down at her.

It was empty, it was always empty. It wore a dark swirling shade of purple and black, but held no starts, no moons, nothing. Hermes could feel her chest constrict, it was meaningless. A blank canvas whose artist was long dead. It had no reason or rhyme, it was oppressively blank. It seemed to scream in her ears, wailing at its uselessness, its unending death.

The symbolism was not lost on Hermes as her eyes began to water, “Kuranell,” She called out, “Kuranell!”

A great wind buffeted the pair, forcing even the avatar’s eyes to close against the airy onslaught. As the great torrent passed, and eyes peeled back open -- a tall looming figure stood in the distance. It was easily three times as tall as them, with long dark robes entangled with feathers and stringed pebbles. On it’s hooded head, two great white antlers pressed out like a crown of sorts, and a blank mask was worn over whatever face this being had to offer.

“I want to fix this, I want to save my children from this curse,” Hermes forced a sputtering demand. Spindly fingers fell from the long billowing robes and pressed against each other in contemplation. As they separated, a platter formed between them, a completely metallic spear cast in a hue of green and wrapped in a copper skin laid on it.

“Then cast your brush, and paint the sky.” The being answered.

Hermes gave Xiaoli a resolute look before walking up to the towering figure. She went to reach for the spear, but found her hand slipping through it. She furrowed her brow and tried again and again.

“What is this?” She scowled.

“Your hands,” The being answered calmly, almost like a nighttime whisper, “They are full.”

Hermes looked down at her empty palms, an itch at the back of her mind. She turned away from the being, and there stood the figure from the land of anger. Its hands were bound, it’s eyes furious. Next to it stood another feathery silhouette of Hermes, hands chained as well, with a look of sorrow, and then another and another. An army of Hermeses stood before her, each wearing one of her thoughts, one of her insecurities, her worries.

“There has to be a better way,” One of the Hermes said suddenly, looking at Xiaoli, “We can’t send our children to the pyres... we just can’t.”

Xiaoli gave her a frown. “I know it’s hard to let go, Hermes, but… All life must go through that cycle. There’s no other sensible option.”

“But what if there was?” The real Hermes suddenly defended her other, “What if there was, Xiaoli? What if this wasn’t the way it should be --”

“Would you stay with me, with us, if there was?” Another Hermes asked, clearly sobbing.

“Xiaoli would never leave me,” Another Hermes scolded, “She is my wife, my wife.”

“But she is also Shengshi,” Another one said coldly.

Xiaoli pointed accusingly at the last one. “But I’m Hermes’ wife first, so you can shut your tongue!”

The Hermes seemed to suddenly poof into a fading mist. The real Hermes took in a deep, startled breath, “Xiaoli would never leave me, no matter what.” She looked over to her wife.

Xiaoli gave her a loving smile with tearing eyes. “Of course I wouldn’t, Hermes - not for anything in this world or any other. I’m yours, for all eternity.”

“If not for Xiaoli, what am I really?” A tiny voice piped up, and a youthful looking Hermes looked on quizzically at the real one, she wore her original clothes at the time of creation, a spear punched through a hole in the back of her shirt.

“I’m Hermes,” The real Hermes answered easily, and the other Hermes seemed to poof away, “Wife or no wife, I am who I am -- and I will always be that way.”

More questions flew at Hermes, who seemed to have an answer for most, forcing the other to poof away. Slowly, one by one, the army began to whittle away as Hermes resolved her insecurities, her anger, her sorrows all left behind in the realm of dreams, until three remained.

“Why are you alive?” A tear stained Hermes asked, putting the real Hermes on edge all of a sudden. A long pause ensued, and a memory passed through her head. She was running away from Xiaoli, tears on her face and a hole in her heart. She crumbled on the flat rock of the fields, a mess of sobs and choking cries. A figure came rushing to her, K’nell. He had taken on her image and turned himself into a dreamer -- without hesitation, the stoic man broke all character and fell to his knees, wrapping her in a compassionate embrace. She remembers digging her face into his chest, letting her tears fall as he comforted him.

“Because I am loved,” Hermes answered, a tear dripping off the tip of her nose. The figure poofed and two remained.

“What do you want?” The second asked, a rash of frustration on her face. Hermes looked down at her sandals as she pondered the question. She remembered the first time she opened her eyes, seeing the cheshire face of K’nell. She remembers finding Li’Kalla and exploring Galbar, she remembers that empty feeling that haunted her while she did -- until she found Xiaoli. Slowly the chill came back though, and she remembers lashing out at Xiaoli, apologizing and bottling it away. She was an explorer, an adventurer and finder of secrets but in all that she was missing something and she would continue to miss it so long as her life was dictated by the myriad of gods and opinions of the world. She bit her lip.

“Freedom, eternity -- liberation, an exit from the cycle” She finally said and the other Hermes poofed.

“And how, what will you do now?” The final Hermes asked. Hermes didn’t even pay it any mind, walking up to the towering figure holding the spear. Without turning back to her feathery form she said simply:

“I will paint the skies and break the cycle.”

The final sleeper dissipated as Hermes scooped the spear from its platter. Kuranell looked down at her, and she could feel a familiar smile behind the mask. Hermes held the spear in one hand and turned to Xiaoli. Slowly the world began to shimmer around them.

“Come here,” Hermes calmly called out to Xiaoli as Limbo shook and shimmered, the world starting to blur.

Xiaoli stared uncertainly at the world around them. “Hermes, what’s happening? The aura of this world feels… Unstable, very much so.”

“Come here” Hermes held out a hand, shaking her head slowly, “We are leaving.”

“Leaving? Oh, finally!” Xiaoli said with a relieved groan and ran towards Hermes, taking her hand in her own. “Are you feeling alright? Those shades asked some… Odd questions.”

“It’s all off my chest,” Hermes said as she pulled Xiaoli close. The world suddenly grew darker and darker, shimmering into nothingness. Hermes’ heart raced a little but a certain new calm cooled her mind and emotions.

With a bang, light returned. The trio stood on the platform of Limbo, a blank night sky above. Without missing a beat, Hermes broke away from Xiaoli, took a running step, shoulders back and one hand out for aim and suddenly threw her spear.

It shot from her like a comet, glowing a gentle green as it rocketed into the sky. The higher it went, the more light it seemed to shed as it rode into the emptiness above. It soared and soared until suddenly it pierced something unseen. A great rip spread across the night sky, leaving behind a cosmic cloud of swirling green dust. A clap of light pulsed from it briefly, as if stamping it forever into the night sky of Galbar.

Hermes stared up at it, a wide cheshire grin on her face, “There it is, Xiaoli.” She didn’t peel her eyes from the ruptured sky.

Xiaoli recoiled a step and stared in awe. It took a moment for her to truly recover to the point where she relaxed her body and simply took in the sight. “Where… Where does it lead?”

“Peace,” K’nell suddenly said, taking a step from behind them so as to stare at the sight with them, “No more sleepers shall accumulate, no betrayed emotions swelling in the dreamscape, not so long as a dreamer looks up at this moksha, this exit, and meditates upon the liberation of themselves and their mind. No, I wager they would find their peace -- but that is only the beginning.”

“The beginning?” Hermes said, turning to look at her God. The God turned his head and smiled wide.

“I will explain, to all of you, come.” With little more the God stepped into the forest.

---

Wenbo snapped awake and catapulted himself up until he sat and gasped for air. He occasionally experienced exciting dreams, he confessed, so this was not necessarily uncommon for him to do. However, as he rubbed his face and pondered the decision to lie back down, all five of his family members did exactly the same, sat up in a rush and panted like they had just run a mile. Wenbo looked around in complete surprise, then Ren shouted, “We have to get to the mansion!”

Wenbo was about to say something, but already his family had rushed out of bed and were getting dressed. The old man frowned a little, but quickly shuffled to his feet and reached for his robes.

Before long, all six of them were moving as fast as they could in the direction of the mansion. It was pitch black outside - or, well, it should have been. Instead, the land seemed to light up with an eerie glow, brought on by a sight in the sky that stopped all of their advances momentarily. The colossal rift in the heavens had their eyes entranced for minutes, quelling all attempts to verbally describe the beauty of what they were beholding. At least ten minutes passed before Ai broke out of the trance and let her eyes fixate on the path again.

“You guys, come on! We need to hurry up!”

The others quickly broke out as well, but would occasionally stop again along the way just to marvel at the phenomenal pattern in the sky. Wenbo, in particular, stopped on multiple occasions, mouthing to himself the words, “... And I shall tear open the sky…”

Along the way, he grabbed Ai’s shoulder and slowed down a little. She turned, confused at first, but quickly read his expression and nodded.

“We are out of time,” Wenbo said somberly. Ai put a hand over his and smiled with equal melancholy.

“You did your best in the time you had, my love… We won’t be many, but… Hey, we’ll be some, at least.”

“... Some,” Wenbo agreed.

Luckily, the Wens didn’t live far away from the mansion - merely an hour long stroll, which in their excited tempo took only half that time.

As they approached, they noticed the entire host of the Dreamers accumulating. A confused Chagatai gave his twin a concerned look before looking onward at the two obelisks that stood guard over the mansion, Hermes and Xiaoli standing in between, with K’nell behind them, and easily standing over them.

Upon spying the other twin, K’nell suddenly flashed his eyes towards the man, “Wenbo, step forward.”

Wenbo swallowed, looked to his wife for encouragement and received it in the form of a loving smile. The old dreamer took a deep breath and moved through the crowd as it parted before him. He stopped before his mothers and bowed deeply.

“Mom, Mother.”

Xiaoli smiled and took the opportunity to walk over and embrace her son, who had grown to be much taller than her, even in his old age. “... My boy… My handsome, little boy.” Hermes wrapped her arms around both of them, whispering something akin to “Baby Wen-Wen.”

As the parents receded from their son, K’nell’s voice swirled above all others, “I have cast my music across this land, so that only those invited here my hear my words -- for these words are for you.”

He looked at Wenbo, “I say to you now the final warning, do not leave until I rip open the sky, or you and all who leave will be forever lost. You will know when it is done, as it will be obvious and will usher back your two mothers." He looked up at the sky and then at Hermes and Xiaoli, “Is this warning fulfilled, Wenbo?”

Wenbo looked up and nodded. “It is, Your Holiness.”

“Then I say to you my second warning once more: To leave my kingdom, there is a chance that you nor your descendants may ever be able to return. The world is mysterious, and my garden shall only grow more hidden and safe, until my final promise is met." K’nell folded his hands, “But then I say to you, my second promise: no matter the deed, should you or any descendent of any who leave find their way back to the soil of Tendlepog despite the perils of my second warning, they shall be welcomed back as a once lost son or daughter.” K’nell looked at Wenbo intently, is voice loud enough for all the woken to hear, “I shall bestow upon you the key to these words.” He smiled, “Firstly, I say that there is a chance that you nor your descendants may ever be able to return for a reason out of my control -- that is personal choice. Should you or your descendants either forget my words here today, or refuse them, then I cannot collect you should you wish to come back -- so listen closely to how you may force me to fulfill my second promise.”

“As you sleep, you the Dreamers accumulate vast emotion that swells in the dreaming world, threatening to overtake you waking conscious -- your mothers have vanquished this ailment on this day, so that you may live free from such a burden. But they did not only do that, but they have laid the first brick on the road to heaven for you.” K’nell looked up to the sky, “Know this mark as the gate of Moksha, and think upon as you see fit to do so. Meditate upon it, dream into it, for it will catch you on the way to my palace and it will relieve you of the Sleepers curses and burns on your way in and out. In doing so it shall remember you, as I do, so that even when you have left this world for the pyres, you will exist in my Kingdom... but how does that get you back?” K’nell looked back down at Wenbo and then the Dreamers.

He gave a cheshire grin. “My kingdom is leaving, it is exiting the cycle of pain and unliving to exist as an infinite heaven. It shall find its place in a new world inside my dreamscape, a world of infinite possibility and space, but one without destruction and obliteration, one without a meaningless life and an endless cycle of death and undeath. All who remain here shall join me there as I bring heaven to Tendlepog and Tendlepog to heaven, and to all who leave...” He looked deep into Wenbo’s eyes, “Meditate upon Moksha, remember my name and pray to me -- so that on the final day of your final breath, even if the pyres claim your souls -- they will never claim you, but I will. You will be home, no matter your deeds, and I will grant you eternal life with a new soul that cannot be taken from you, so that you may frolic in infinity to do all you wish.”

Wenbo seemed at the break of tears. He collapsed to his knees and put his forehead to the ground. As he did, Ai, Cai, Ren, Naran and Qi all stepped forward and joined him. About five more from the Wen family stepped forth. A couple from Zhongcheng and Laia’s family stepped forth, as well; as did six from Bayarmaa and Li’s family. Temüjin’s family offered no one, in the end, and from Chagatai and Altansarnai came no one either.

Wenbo whimpered a little as he said, “Thank you, greatest God… Thank you.”

The others in the crowd also whispered words of gratitude between sobs and sniffs.

“The land sleeps,” K’nell said, “Talk among yourselves, and keep my words as I leave you to discuss. I will see you all in my eternal kingdom.”

With little else, the god turned and began to walk into the forest, a viola appearing under his chin as he played his sleepy music, ensuring the privacy of the Dreamers from any would be eavesdroppers.

Hermes was the first to speak, pushing her words quickly at Xiaoli, a beaming smile on her face as if she asked an unvoiced question she already knew the answer to. She bounced her eyebrows twice, “Well!?”

Xiaoli blinked. “W-well, what?”

Hermes rolled her eyes, “We did it, Xiaoli.” She grabbed her hand, “We found the other way -- or well K’nell did, but you get it.”

Xiaoli furrowed her brows and pursed her lips. “W-well, it’s… Unconventional to say the least. To pull the entire continent out of Galbar and serve as a second alternative to the Pyres… Won’t overpopulation be an issue?”

“In an infinite land?” Hermes cocked a playful brow, jittery with an excitement that contrasted Xiaoli’s caution.

“Oh, infinite size-wise, too?” Xiaoli mumbled. “I’m sorry, this whole… Seemingly insane alterations of the natural laws is all a little… Stunning.”

“Remember what the skeleton said about the laws?” Hermes squeezed Xiaoli’s hand, her smile fading, “This is the change we needed, love. K’nell cares about us, he likely spent eons upon eons thinking this over and planning it. Don’t you want an inexhaustible land where we are free from the cycle of the pyres without sacrificing who we are? A place where we can become whatever we wish?” She grinned, attempting to force one out of Xiaoli, “Think of the adventures.”

“Yeah… Yeah, I like the sound of that very much,” she said, a little absent-mindly, perhaps.

“Xiaoli...” Hermes put her arms over her wife’s neck, “I think it is your turn to let go,” She smiled, “The sooner you do, the sooner we can collectively disgust all our descendents at the same time with an overly-emotional hug. You know I’ve been wanting to do that since Ren was born.”

Xiaoli giggled quietly to herself. “His Lordship will be heartbroken… Sure, we haven’t seen each other in a long time, but we still chat at least once a week. Can I even reach him from the other side?”

Hermes sighed, although it wasn’t an upset one, she placed her head on Xiaoli’s shoulder, “Two things, love.” She said into her ear, “First, a going away party -- second, we can ask.”

“A going away party?” She eyed Wenbo and his family, who were all in the middle of discussing the reasons for leaving again. “Yeah… A party is at least warranted, given the circumstances. Laia, Ansong! Come help me in the kitchens, please - we’re making a feast to celebrate!”

“Wait, Xiaoli!” Hermes tugged her wife back to her. Xiaoli veered.

“What, what?”

Hermes squeezed her close, “I didn’t get my hug.”

Xiaoli blinked and smiled so broadly that Hermes could feel her cheek contort. She squeezed back with all the glee and joy she could, nearly picking Hermes up in the process. “Oh, Hermes, you’ll get hugs for all eternity now!”

“And we are going to explore so much, we are really going to test out this ‘infinite’ clause,” Hermes pecked a kiss onto Xiaoli’s cheek, “Now how about I go pray to Shengshi while you break out the good plates.” She winked.

“Sounds great! Just, uhm… Remember to be polite, please?” Meanwhile, Ansong and Laia had brought along their children into the kitchens already. “Please?”

“Of course, love,” Hermes shook her head with an amused grin, “You’d think after all these years, you could trust me with a few simple thingymabobs and words.”

With a cheshire grin that exposed more excitement and cheerfulness than thoughtfulness, Hermes all but bounced away, her sandals suddenly flapping as she quickly rushed to the far side of the estate and out of earshot.

---

The Shengshese shrine was a beautifully carven stone altar, draped on top with red, materialised silk. In the stone, there was written the poem “Three Forks of the River” from the Classic of Wisdom in calligraphic script. On top of the silk drape laid bowls of now-admittedly old fruit, gold ornaments and a small jade figurine of Shengshi himself.

Hermes walked up to it and cleared her throat. Shaking her arms out and doing maybe an excessive wiggle of one of her legs, she plopped into a messy kowtow. She nudged herself into a better position and inhaled deeply.

“His Lordship Shengshi, Master of the rivers, King of all that is... fruits, hear my prayer.” She hesitated, thinking it sounded a touch too demanding, “...If you feel like it.” She smiled to herself, a job well done.

The aura around the altar quickly thickened, and the air began to smell of cooked fish, steamed rice and tangy wine -- Hermes stomach loudly gurgled, and she stifled a childish giggle. An invisible pair of reptilian eyes fell upon Hermes and there came an ‘oh!’.

“Why, hello there, young Hermes! I must say, of all the people and creatures on this world I had thought would contact me directly, you are not very high on the list. Is, uhm… Is everything alright between you and Xiaoli?”

“Well now that you bring it up,” Hermes took the cue to break her kowtow, sitting up and folding her legs, “She’s been doing this thing lately, where she kicks at me in her sleep. Do you do that? Is it a thing you guys just do, like a tick? Mind you, she’s been dreaming for years now. One night I tried to wrestle her away but she took it as--” Hermes cleared her throat, “Well.”

There came another hum, slightly uncomfortable in nature. “I am not quite certain how I feel about discussing my avatar’s--... My own-... Uhm… Anyway, I believe I am actually incapable of kicking, so that is something she does on her own.”

“Oh right,” Hermes scrunched her nose, unsure if she should continue. She shook her head, “I really prayed to you because I have big news, and Xiaoli is busy preparing a feast in honor of the news so I told her that I would contact you instead -- it’s been long enough, I’d say.” Hermes put her fists on her hips, “You know, Xiaoli was quite upset when you missed her birthday. It took me a very long time to convince her to subscribe to the idea of having one. She wouldn’t tell you that she was upset about it, even though I told her you should know.”

“... Why in the world would she not tell me that? Or rather, why did she get upset with me for not knowing?”

Hermes squinted, eyes flickering as she mumbled to herself, “Could be she was just trying to get out of it... damn!” She made a fist, “Anything to avoid the days when I cook dinner.”

Taking in a deep breath, Hermes calmed herself down, the jitters still clearly assaulting her, “Okay, I’m sorry, we got way off topic. I’m suppose to be inviting you down to Tendlepog for a huge going away party and to talk about some things.”

“A going away party? All the way over on Tendlepog? Wait, who is going away? Is it for Wenbo and his family, perhaps? Because I will be there quite shortly, as soon as I have toured the eastern shore of Atokhekwoi.”

“Well, yes for them,” Hermes had recently learned about that and wasn’t too sure how she felt about it just yet, “But also, well.” She pursed her lips, “K’nell has some things he has to tell you.” She craned her neck uncomfortably, “I’m sure of it -- but but! Don’t worry, everything is fine.”

There was a silence. “Your tone, diction and body language all indicate that whatever it is, it is either very serious, very important, or very well acted. Nevertheless, I am turning my ship as we speak. I will see you on Tendlepog post-haste.”

“Well wait,” Hermes spoke up, “Shengshi, um.” She lost her trail of thought, too nervous to spill the news when he was this far away and without K’nell to back her up. She sighed, “Poppler missed you, see you soon.”

”Crackle?”

There came a sigh. “I am certain he has.” Then the aura disappeared.

---

A good part of the day went by, with Xiaoli and her children working hard on preparing for the massive feasts, fit for double the amount of Dreamers in existence. While this was bustling about, K’nell had returned, his viola still playing as to keep away any would be trespassers on the event -- his army of nightmares ever present and the Warden almost enjoying himself as he emboldened his own patrols. Luckily, the viola could play itself while K’nell interacted with his creations, going so far as to approach Wenbo once more and hand him a particularly silver amulet bearing the mark of K’nell.

The chain danged from Wenbo’s hand, the pendant laying in his palm. K’nell’s grainy voiced explained simply, “This amulet will always be on a dreamer’s neck, so long as there are dreamers on Galbar. It will find one if it isn’t presented one, and once attached it will repeat the words I have spoken to you, the instructions of the Moksha, whenever prompted -- or if my words are ever forgotten by some horrible circumstance, it will remind whatever dreamer it finds -- so that all may not be lost on Galbar. It will also protect whoever bears it, as it is infused with my great power -- and will put even Gods to sleep should they wish harm upon whoever holds my word, this amulet. This is but a safety mechanism for you and your descendants, but the true defense against falling astray will be heeding my words outright, and ensuring that they are not buried by the ages to come. Know that eternity and higher knowing awaits you on your return, as do I.”

“And I.” Chagatai bowed deeply towards K’nell, hiding a teary face. Keeping it hidden, he quickly embraced his wide eye’d brother, large arms constricting the man. Wenbo blinked, but broke out of the awe-caused trance quickly enough to return the hug, albeit not as mightily as the one he received.

“... The twins won’t ever die,” he vowed.

“No, no they won’t,” Chagatai held Wenbo out and looked him over, “But the wait will be terrible.”

K’nell smirked, as if amused at the notion of the wait -- when in his eyes he had waited eons for this moment. He put a hand on Wenbo, “Good luck.” With a warm cheshire grin, K’nell then slinked away from them, long gentlemanly strides bringing him to face the southern horizon -- a shift in the wind collecting in his ear.

He folded his elbows square behind his back, and Hermes stepped beside him, squinting to find what he was looking at. The two stood in silence for a while before K’nell suddenly spoke, “Why are you alive?” His eyes flicked down to Hermes, a small grin on his face.

Hermes scrunched her nose teasingly, “Because I’m loved.”

A sharp exhale left K’nell’s nose and he looked back up at the horizon, “More than you know.”

Slowly a striking glimmer hit the horizon, like the dust of a diamond in the wind. A grain of gold glittering in the skylight became a nugget, then a bar, then a castle on top of a ship’s hull. It dwarfed even the upgraded mansion in terms of size, and had to carefully maneuver itself to not obliterate the vegetable gardens and the forest. Eventually, it found a compromised solution some distance away from the mansion, and roughly twenty minutes later, the snake ducked under the top of the mansion gates and opened his arms in joyous salutations.

“To have friends come from far and near; to see them all surround you here; it dulls the painful, sore and tart; and brings the best of love to heart,” the snake thundered to the beat of a thousand marching footsteps outside the walls, followed by a multitude of loud thuds.

Xiaoli giggled at the poem, walked over to her creator, bowed as she looked past him towards the gate, which really didn’t tell her much about what was going on outside. “My Lord, it is this servant’s deepest joy to express its welcomes to you; a quick question, if you wouldn’t mind… What did you bring?”

“Some refreshments,” the snake said politely.

“Reeeaaally?” Hermes formed a sly grin, a thirsty cloudling buzzing around her.

“If this servant can ask,” Altansarnai stood next to her mother, the two nearly identical -- especially with a thirsty cloudling named Dumpling buzzing around her as well, “What sort of refreshments?”

The snake eyed the two dreamers with the sort of look one gives twins when trying to remember who’s who. He decided it didn’t matter much and crossed his muscular arms across his broad chest. “The only one suitable for a feast. Bring it in.”

The Dreamers stared in awe at a sudden conveyor belt of sand-skinned creatures quite similar to themselves in dress and form, though radically different in other respects. They came in groups of six, each carrying a sealed pot that sloshed and splashed loudly in spite of its seal. These were stacked along the wall until there were enough to essentially make a second wall. The snake smirked at the cloudlings.

“Let us see if they can drink -this- up. Dreamers, worthy people, come - come and taste the nectar of the gods!”

Poppler crackled heavily, little dew drops forming on it’s fluffy exterior. Dumpling seemed to pop in kind, the two zipping as quickly as they could towards the wall, Hermes walking politely behind and giving Xiaoli a sheepish shrug.

“I can’t really refuse such a drink,” She defended against nothing.

The snake smiled, dug his hand into the ground and scooped up some dirt. The dirt became clay cups in his hands, two of which he handed to Xiaoli and Hermes. “Take as much as you want - Xiaoli, I trust that you can provide cups for the rest?”

The avatar smiled and rolled her eyes. “Naturally. What am I, mortal?”

The two exchanged a smug laughter. A sudden playful smack hit Xiaoli’s arm and Hermes gave her a funny glare before accepting her cup, “You two, I swear.” She flickered between them, leaving to go get herself a drink.

K’nell raised a brow and stepped in her place, looking directly at the snake god, “It is good that you came.”

“Ah, my dearest brother K’nell,” the snake said and shook his hand with a respectful smile. “I was hoping to find you right this moment, actually. It is all well and admirable for you to host a farewell celebration, but Hermes was awfully vague as to whom we are saying farewell to. Would you mind filling me in?”

“I wouldn’t at all,” K’nell smiled and slipped out a silver tin, to which he discreetly presented it to Shengshi, “Shall we take a walk?”

“Oh, why, I would love to.” He snapped his head around to look Xiaoli in the eyes just as she downed a cup of wine. She nearly coughed it back up. “Drink responsibly.”

The avatar, still coughing violently, nodded as best she could. The snake, now satisfied that a responsible adult had been left in his place, accepted the silver tin, extracted a cigarillo and followed K’nell out of the mansion.

“You know,” K’nell said without moving his lips, the cigarillo bouncing in his mouth as he went to light it. With a sudden spark of fire and an opaque puff of smoke, K’nell continued as they walked into the forest, “I don’t think we’ve walked since -- well since we granted Hermes her fertility.” He held out his hand, a lick of flame floating above his finger, the orange licks snapping at the end of Shengshi’s smoke. The snake hummed pensively.

“We had a short stroll right after the death of Vakk, I believe - though there was a much heavier air that day.”

“Ah true,” K’nell nodded, “You know, my Warden still regails the nightmares about that day, as if they weren’t there -- I dare say it was his favorite day. Bloodthirsty, but I have to admit he is efficient and loves his job. Loyal as can be.”

K’nell scrunched his brows down, “Ah but you are here for something else, something much more important.” He plucked his cigarillo from his mouth, “Do you remember our talk about Paradise?”

“How could I forget? Your lessons are quite easy to commit to memory.” The snake winked at the dream god.

K’nell exhaled sharply from his nose, inciting a short ‘Ha!’ before shaking his head. Still smiling, he continued, “Well, Shengshi, I have done it. I have secured heaven.” He then went into detail about his plans, what he had told the dreamers, and how he was soon to depart Galbar with his creations, but right as Shengshi’s brow began to fall, he said something new:

“This new realm will be cut off from the other gods, of course, to ensure the safety of heaven and freedom of its denizens -- all but two,” He sucked in a breath, “Myself, as I will be committing myself to its upkeep and the like -- and you. You are half of the Dreamers, I will never deny that, and you have not only made yourself a friend and family to them, but you made them -- you made Xiaoli a promise, one I will not allow my actions to break.” K’nell looked up at Moksha, the great nebula glistening in the sky.

The snake eyed the rift in the heavens and sat himself down on a nearby rock, taking in a long drag from the cigarillo. “So… You actually did it. You actually broke the cycle?”

“It would seem,” K’nell answered through a cloud of smoke, “And without taking from it, mind you. The Architect will have his, and I will have mine -- I’d invite you along completely, but I have a feeling you have things you need to stay for?”

The snake chuckled to himself. “An overwhelming offer, if I am to be honest. The thought of governing and maintaining a paradise alongside you, my dear, dear friend, is tempting beyond words… However, as you say, my mission here remains incomplete. Still, if the doors of heaven are open to a silly old fool like me, then I will gladly visit from time to time.”

“I figured as much and I don’t envy you,” K’nell winked, “But yes! You must visit, in fact, or I’m afraid Xiaoli-- well. Remember what I said about the mind first finding paradise?” He smiled wide, “Here is how you may visit -- as I’m afraid the dreamscape will be a level removed from Galbar without the gateways, so bear with me: I will be too busy to allow in most people, or even entertain dreams often, but every weaver knows that there is one subconscious that may come to the palace and be granted its autonomy immediately, and allowed into the heavens that abound there. So dream on, my friend, and every dream will be of heaven -- your other family awaiting you.” K’nell finished his cigarillo and flicked the butt into the air, the whole thing disappearing into a spray of blue sparkles before hitting the ground.

“Beautifully poetic, my dear friend,” the snake snickered and flicked his own cigarillo in the same manner. “I certainly hope I still may conjure food and drink for this family of mine even in my deepest dreams.”

“In a turn of phrase often yelled at me by a young mortal I once created: why not?” K’nell’s cheshire grin was unyielding, “Just do me one favor, and look after the Wen family -- I know they will be returning upon their deaths should they choose it, but I think I would prefer their lives on Galbar to be much more than their deaths.”

Shengshi nodded deeply and pounded his chest with a knit fist. “You have my word. The Wen clan will be under my protection, and I believe I have devised a solution to young Wenbo’s wanderlust.” The snake tapped his temple with a pair of fingers.

“I’m sure his parents will appreciate this, go on?” K’nell folded his hands in anticipation.

“I have dabbled quite a bit in city building of late, and Wenbo and Ai’s request for comfortable travel gave me some ideas. It will be well-defended, self-sufficient and, as demanded, quite comfortable. The details, however, I will explain to you in a dream.”

“Ah, I had no idea you took a few steps towards becoming the God of Suspense,” K’nell formed an amused grin, “Very well... shall we brave the drunk mortals? I fear for Xiaoli.”

“She has handled drunk gods. She can easily herd a number of tipsy mortals.”

“It’s not the herd that concerns me,” K’nell raised his brow and turned towards the estate.

---

A gratuitous amount of cloudlings had seemed to have either descended on the scene or simply popped up from one of the existing ones. Dreamers everywhere were laughing and mingling: a few wrestling matches had broken out, with Bataar as the current champion. In one corner, Zhongcheng was having his own wrestling match, drunkenly kissing all over his wife's face, much to their children’s chagrin. Urangtai had been discussing the trip with Wenbo, only leaving when Song came looking for him. By the spot where Hermes’ workbench used to be, the two mothers of this all sat on a mess of cushions.

Hermes was grinning madly, her high cheekbones causing her eyes to squint with delight as she stared at her wife with a drunken stupor. Lucky for Xiaoli, she had drank past her more annoying style of drunkenness, the kind where she considers herself immortal as well as the greatest at everything and has now slipped into her silent admiration stage. Finally she droned, “Xiaoooliiiiiiiii...?”

While it usually took a lethal amount of wine to even push a god into the tipsy stage, Xiaoli had sipped on the mood of the festivities as well as the wine. She flashed her wife a playful, inebriated grin. “What is it, dear?”

Hermes splayed out and laid in her wife’s lap, “Aresh you happy, loff?” She did a half yawn, half hiccup.

“The happiest, my deares-- hic! Oh my, pardon - I was saying that I am the happiest wossname, woman on this planet as of, of this moment. No wait, I have been for a long time, but… Oh, listen to me wamble, ramble.” She giggled perhaps a little too enthusiastically.

Hermes laughed along, “You shound rearry drunk, loff.” She closed her eyes, “Will you be fhish ha-happy in heaven, loff?”

“Oh, you shilly lil’ Hermy-wormy - I’m happy ashlong as I have yooo.” She emptied another cup into her mouth. “H-hey! Zhongy! Be wossname, civil, you brat!” She then broke into a wild cackle.

Hermes went to speak, but instead let out a long rebellious burp and then broke into a tearful laugh. As if it was a battlecry, several of her children and grandkids let out some of their own, Chagatai topping them with a baritone roar that earned him a nod of respect from his wife. Hermes fell into a fit of giggles, rolling off of Xiaoli and onto the tiles of the courtyard.

“Xiaoli!” Hermes called out. She groggily punched the air a few times, “Let’sh fight, let’sh do it.”

Xiaoli frowned at the very suggestion. “But, but why? I love you! I don’t wanna wossname, smack you.”

“Awh, I loff you too, sandy cheeksh,” Hermes sat up, “But I was jush saying for fun.” She thumbed behind her, “Look at our kidsh.”

Behind Hermes, Bataar had one of Li’s son’s in a perfect headlock, the once cocky younger cousin’s face a beat red. Bataar was roaring with laughter, a few of the unwed Dreamers swooning near him while his wife shot terrible glares at them. Bayarmaa was telling somewhat slurred stories about her late teens, causing a few of the youngsters listening to go on a quest in search of either cold baths or more wine. Ai sat combing the messed up hair of the violently reluctant Cai, but luckily for the grandmother, her granddaughter was much too wasted to actually be able to break out. Wenbo tried to convince Batu, Erden and Nugai to join him and look for dreamshrooms, but was nigh immediately shut down by a stern, scolding Ansong slapping him with a rolled up towel.

“That’s it!” Li suddenly announced, a morin khuur in his hands, his first born, Li Enzan, holding his own. The two, now with the attention of the least drunk dreamers, began to strike the strings with the bow, releasing a droningly beautiful song. Chagatai clapped his mighty hands twice, “Bayarma! Sing!”

He stood up and cupped his hands, “Bayarma!” Soon Bataar dropped Li’s other son and stood up straight, cupping his own hands.

“Sing! Sing! Sing!” Quickly the Dreamers started chanting at the woman to sing, with even Hermes walking up to her daughter and putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Your sho lovely, my baby, why don’t you sing?” Hermes gave a slanted smirk, “I’ll join in, come on.”

Bayarmaa sighed, rolled her eyes playfully and patted her nearest, now mentally scarred grandchild on the head. She rose up, cleared her throat and sang as loudly as she could. Considering her balance and the colour in her face, she sang beautifully, with good tonal control and management of intensity.

Temüjin clapped his hands with a mighty cackle, then decided to join in with some deep, reverberating, two-toned throat singing. His children and grandchildren called out in support and began to clap a rhythm which quickly spread outwards. Chagatai threw a mighty arm around Temüjin, joining in with his own quickly vibrating vocals. A shy Urangtai hooked onto Chagatai but quickly found his courage as he blasted a well trained voice, and soon a chain was formed of the men, while some of the women sang back -- the Li clan playing their instruments with furious skill. Wenbo chipped in with his flute, joined by Ren, Tian and De.

Hermes closed her eyes and began to sing along, what lyrics there were among the throat singing telling of the time Zhongcheng was chased by at least twenty chameleon squirrels, and of the time Chagatai wrestled a tree -- and this one time Wenbo managed to trick all of the other nine original children into doing his chores for half a week so he could set up a special date -- including his own date.

Laughter spread at certain parts and Hermes put an arm around her wife’s waist, urging her to join in with her divine vocals. Xiaoli scoffed amiably and began to sing with such wild enthusiasm that it felt uncanny coming from her. She jumped into Hermes’ arms and swung her arms around her neck. Hermes grinned so widely and so stupidly, her face threatened to melt into two.

A blast of another morin khuur entered the soundscape as K’nell came walking in, his advanced skill allowing him to move while he played, a gentle twinkle in his eyes. The Dreamers cheered as their god brought forth unique and new cords and sounds, adding to the party. Soon the song broke into various activities, some dancing, some singing, others going back to wrestling -- and others still just chatting or holding each other.

K’nell smiled a cheshire grin, Shengshi coming to slither next to him. Hermes looked up from her hug with Xiaoli and began to drunkenly struggle, “Look Xiaoliiii! It’s Sh-Shengshii.” Xiaoli immediately lost all colour in her face and turned to the snake with a look of terror, but the snake merely smiled back.

“Having fun?” he said with a chuckle.

Xiaoli swallowed. The snake approached with a slight frown. “Are you afraid?”

“It’s just,” Xiaoli started, “I’ve not been wossname, inebree… Inebriatuh… Inebriated in, in, in front of His Lordship before.”

“And jush why not, why not can’t she?” Hermes defended Xiaoli unprompted, “Hif Lordship invented it.” She grinned at Shengshi, clearly plastered, “Thank you.”

“Woah, woah, I never said she could not,” the snake protested. “In fact, here is my answer to your fear.” The snake slithered over to a pot, took it by one of the head-sized handles on the side and tilted it to his mouth like it was a fifty litre tankard. While he spilled a good deal over himself, he managed to drink almost all of it in the matter of seconds. He wiped his mouth afterwards and extended his arms outwards like a champion. “Drink, I say! Drink and enjoy life!” He let out a burp. “Also, that was quite uncivilised of me - I apologise.”

Xiaoli couldn’t decide between cackling and thinking back to suppressed traumas of the last time His Lordship consumed wine at such a pace. She decided to cackle instead, exploding into a wild laughter. “Okay, okay, okay - gimme another cup!”

The snake handed her a top-full cup. He then snapped his fingers and some servants brought in dutifully through the door a broad guzheng. The snake slithered over to it and flexed the muscles in his face in the way one does to verify that alcohol is affecting you. He listened to the music intently, then began to pluck on complementary strings, backing up the beautiful Dreamer orchestra with energetic strings.

“Oh dash it all,” K’nell’s cheshire smile creeped past his nose and he took out a cigarillo from his silver tin. With one long pull, the end of the cigarillo turned a bright amber, slowly traveling up the whole length until only crumbling ash remained. With a grainy laugh that seemed to swirl away from the god, he exhaled. A flood of thick purple smoke poured from his nostrils and mouth, engulfing the area in a haze, pupil’s slowly dilating. Jittering feelings of happiness followed, as did amused laughs. Headaches from the alcohol seemed to fade, and the party quickly turned into one wild festival.

“Shengshi,” Hermes gripped the god’s arm tightly, forgetting her manners.

The snake turned a groggy face to Hermes. “Yesh, uh-... Person, wossname, Hermes.”

“Oh, sho thatsh where she gets it,” Hermes narrowed her eyes briefly before squeezing Shenghi’s arm again, “Thank you for making Xiaoli. I really l- hic. I really l- hic. I really like her, you know.”

The snake tugged at the wrong string and cursed in some eldritch tongue before smiling happily at Hermes. “Oh, wash the leastaicouldoo. She really likes youtoo, y’know. Like, I know -all- about, about that.”

In a moment of rarity, Hermes blushed, “Yeah, I know, she told me she likes me.” Hermes cackled, “Well, wait.” She nearly went cross-eyed as she attempted a serious face, “Whash you mean you know aaaaaaallll about it.”

The snake raised an eyebrow. “Well, she’s me, right? And I’m, uh…” He blinked. “Her. Sho, like, I feel what, uh, she feels.”

“Sho you felt last week,” Hermes grinned madly, laughing to herself before gently slapping Shengshi’s arm, “Well shtop it. She’s- She’s my wife.”

The snake’s mouth flattened out. “I meant in her wossname, heart - not her, uh… How do you two--”

“Shhh!” Hermes narrowed her eyes, “Lesh just keep it at you feel her heart. Snappin’ we asking questionsh what the hell is up with her ankles, your Lordship?” The dreamer sat up and threw her hands in the air, “Whash happened with that!?”

“A-ankles?” the snake responded. “What ‘bout ‘em?”

“Where the- how the,” Hermes pointed at Shengshi’s tail, “You ain’t got no legsh. And and, Xiaoli doeshn’t have any bonesh!” Hermes lifted her leg to show off the bump of her ankle, “I have one, itsh a joint, but Xiaoli.” She shook her head, “But you shtill gave her the bump, how did you know?”

“... Huh…” the snake hummed and eyed Xiaoli’s feet narrowly as he tugged at his beard with a little too much concentration. “... Why did I do that?”

A loud crack sounded from the Dreamer host as Temüjin and Chagatai had begun dancing on a table and subsequently ended the table’s wooden life. As cackles and clapping spread outwards, Xiaoli pouted a little. “My table…”

“Oh shush, you can make another in a second,” Shengshi scolded playfully and struck a crescending series of notes.

“I got you, loff!” Hermes stood up too fast, falling forward and planting her face right into the ground. She pointed a finger outward, “Chaggie! No!” She rolled to her side and wiggled her nose, thankfully intact, “You too, Temujin!”

Chagatai bowed his head out of respect, but a smile was on his face, “My fault, mom, my fault.”

“It alwash is,” Hermes shook her head.

Suddenly Bataar came out of nowhere, tackling his father to the ground, “A-ha! Got you now, old man!” The taunt summoned a loud laugh from Chagatai as the two began to roll around in an attempt to get the upper hand.

“Wen-Wen!” Hermes called out, as Poppler took her place by Shengshi, “Help your mother up.”

Wenbo, sensing the urgency, immediately tripped over one of his passed out daughters and slammed into the ground. Ren, Tian and De all scrambled to help him back up, and for once in his life, Wenbo now had two blue-ringed eyes. He rubbed his sore face as he staggered over to Hermes, kept in balance by a helpful pair of his soberer daughters and granddaughters.

“Be right there, mom,” the old dreamer mumbled partially through the nose. One of his daughters, Wen Feng, dutifully dabbed her sleeve on the side of his mouth with a sigh before returning to her duty of keeping her father upright. In the end, it was the two girls that helped Hermes to her feet again while Wenbo sat on a nearby pillow with his head hanging over his lap.

Hermes thanked her granddaughters each with a big drunk hug before stumbling over to sit with her son. She gently took his chin and examined his new wound. She pouted and pecked a motherly kiss on his forehead, right above the bruise. “My little baby.”

Wenbo barely responded, and sort of just fell against Hermes in a limp manner. Hermes cradled her son and hummed softly, thinking to herself -- this is why. She’s alive because she is loved, and because she loves. She smiled down at her adult son and smiled wide, and now they will never be lost -- not the fires, not to the other gods, not swallowed by Galbar, they are saved.

A tear formed in her eye and she looked up to see K’nell smiling at her, to which she returned one, “I’m going to miss him.” She all but mouthed. K’nell gave a tiny shake of his head, his voice appearing beside Hermes’ ear.

“Only for so long, my child. Only for so long.”

Happy tears began to fall down her face and drip off her angled chin. She sobbed gently as she stroked her son’s hair, the inebriation turning her into a slight mess of tears, “I love everyone so much.”

Xiaoli balanced over as best she could and sat down next to Hermes. She softly caressed Hermes’ cheek, then Wenbo’s, their son’s wrinkling face almost not seen by Hermes, her motherly eyes simply seeing the bright young face of her second born.

“I’ll… I’ll miss him too,” Xiaoli whimpered and sniffed. A fourth figure joined the small crowd, Ai. She gave her husband a weak, wry smile and then put her head on Xiaoli’s shoulder, Xiaoli laying her head against hers again. A meaty hand fell over Ai’s shoulder, another on Hermes’ as Chagatai’s face appeared between his mother and sister’s heads. He rested his chin on their shoulders.

“Room for one more?” He looked down at his twin, his own striped face almost identical.

“... And another?” came another voice from above, and Bayarmaa’s soft, beaming face came into view over Xiaoli’s shoulder.

“Fbbt..” Zhongcheng gurgled as he crawled up to the group and placed his face into the cushions between the others, one hand reaching out to grab his mother’s hand, “It’ll--” A drunk yawn, “--It’ll be okay.” Laia shuffled over and sat down next to her husband, clapping him affectionately on his balding head and flashing her mothers a smile.

“Whrs yee…” Wenbo grumbled into Hermes’ arm and instinctively she shushed him, rocking his drunken head slowly.

“So thish’sh whurrth-... Wossname, party went?!” Temüjin shouted before crashing into a pillow as well, a giggling Li following suit. Ansong stuffed a few slices of fruit in her mouth, flushed them down with a wine cup, nearly choked and then finally made her way over.

Blue hair draped over Chagatai’s face and he let out a ‘pfft!” A smiling Altansarnai hovering over, “What a scene.” She said, with bright Hermian eyes. Poppler and Dumpling floating above her.

“Indeed,” K’nell agreed, a certain emotion in his voice, “A scene worth saving.” He smiled.

The snake plucked some final notes on his guzheng and giggled. “Life unveils great goods: honour, glory, wealth ‘n joy; none beats family.”

“None,” Hermes agreed with a wide sobering smile, “And this is the greatest family... I’m so happy to be apart of it. And none of it would have been possible if you two didn’t aid me in my quest -- if you didn’t believe in me. I-” She choked on sentimentality, “I have been alive since the dawn of creation, the world was so empty... but this -- its --” She started to cry silently, still emotional from the alcohol, “It’s as full as anything.” She said without much poetry, “In all history, this is it, right here. This is everything I have ever wanted.”

“And it forever will be, and more,” K’nell comforted, the party starting to quiet as various members began to pass out or stumble home with less drunk individuals, “I promise.”

The snake swung an arm around K’nell’s shoulders and chuckled a satisfied bass. “I offer anyone whose road home to too long a stay aboard my ship. There are rooms there for each and every one, and breakfast in the morning included.”

Ai looked down at Wenbo again and sighed. “We might take you up on that, Your Lordship.”

The snake winked at her and smiled at K’nell. “Well, then - should we call it a night?”

“Mm,” K’nell looked about as he held a hum, “I’d say that’s a good idea -- we have a big day in the morning.” He pursed his lips at the sounds of several groaning Dreamers who had partied far to hard, “Or afternoon.” He winked at the snake.

The snake followed his gaze and smirked, though there was a sober sadness to the smile, as well. He sighed gently and nodded. “Yes… That we do.”

---

As the party dissipated and the land grew quiet, a gentle breeze roamed in the Dreamer’s stead. Standing on the flat rock of the plains, the very spot where K’nell had begun his journey, the god stared into the distance. In silence he watched the tall sweet grass sway with the wind. Closing his eyes and inhaled and slowly exhaled.

“Yes?” He suddenly asked. The Warden sat atop his horse, head bowed in respect -- having appeared seemingly out of thin air.

“My Lord, I wished to simply express my gratitude.” The Warden’s voice echoed with a hint of sadness, “For life, and for this task that is now ending.”

“Ah yes,” K’nell opened his eyes and looked over at his Warden, “Think nothing of it, my dear Warden -- your performance was exemplary. Truly I could not have created a better being to do the job you had before you -- and now to see how well you perform on your next task.”

“My Lord?” What could have been anticipating glee scratched into the Warden’s voice.

“You have served me well, Warden, I feel it would be... uncouth of me to not offer you two positions of promotion,” K’nell folded his elbows square behind his back. The Warden bowed his helmeted head in respect and K’nell continued, “Heaven will have little need of this army of terror -- but I am willing to offer you a position in it as its protector of course. On the other hand, I offer you a task dangerously similar, but with a clause.”

“You have captured my attention, my Lord.” The Warden raised his head back up.

“Shall I give you position and rank in heaven and call it done, or shall I do the very same but add the clause that you may be summoned back to Galbar by a tool of power wielded by the Clan of Wen -- to protect them should they ever be in dire need.” K’nell smiled softly, the wicked thoughts of the Warden growing wildly inside his helmet.

“I think I would very much prefer the latter, my Lord,” The Warden bowed his head, “Grant me this position, and I swear when called that no foe of the Clan of Wen will stand to harm your creations and their children.”

“Exercise the same caution you exercised here when called, and I will say it is done.”

“My Lord.” The Warden bowed his head, sword hand clenching and unclenching.

---

Golden rays revealed specks of dust in the air as Wenbo opened his groggy eyes. His blurred vision failed to lock onto anything at first, and it took several blinks to truly chase away the exhaustion clogging up his vision. His head pounded like a drum, and it took a lot of focus for him to realise that the mahogany roof was awfully nicer than the mouldy thatch he was used to seeing.

“Are you awake, my love?” came a sweet voice and as Wenbo turned to its source, his heartbeat increased to the point where it threatened to kill him. There, by a golden door, stood his wife dressed in a white silk shirt and a long, blue silk skirt which was tied right above her bosom. Over the white shirt she wore a translucent coat of sky blue linen. Her alabaster hair was tied in a large bun with an ocean blue ribbon and her face was rouged and adorned with smokey eyeshadow.

“What do you think?” she asked sweetly.

Wenbo had to pick his jaw back up from the floor. For a moment, every ache and pound thundering through his old skull vanished completely and the old dreamer rose slowly out of bed, ogling his wife like a tree-eater looks at trunks. Ai giggled sweetly and hid her smile behind a twenty-one-folded fan.

“Easy there, Thinker - we’ve got a breakfast to get to.”

She elegantly rose, the folds in her dress dropping like dow to the floor without even making a sound. She winked playfully at her husband as she opened the door. “Don’t be late now,” she whispered as she left. The door closed and Wenbo stood on the floor of the beautifully decorated room a bit like a rock in a gold mine. In a fit of speed he charged at the wardrobe and pulled it open. The mountains and waterfalls of different clothes and dresses inside baffled the man. There was no way he could decide - especially not now that the pounding was back. Oh, gods, it just got worse and worse… Now it was audible, even.

“Master Wenbo?” came a voice from outside the door.

Wenbo turned around and blinked. It hadn’t been his head after all, huh. “Oh, uh… C-come in.”

The door swung open extravagantly and ushered in ten servants who all lined up in two rows and kowtowed before Wenbo, causing him to flinch into a defensive position. “Good morning, master Wenbo - this servant is named Fu Shan, and these are its assistants. They have come to aid in your preparation to eat with His Lordship.”

Wenbo swallowed. “I-I don’t think--”

“Please have a seat in this chair,” Fu Shan insisted as a chair was seemingly pulled out of nowhere and tackled Wenbo’s calves, forcing him to take a seat. A mirror popped up in front of the dreamer and he recoiled at the gruesomely rugged face staring back at him before recognising its owner with some shame and disappointment. Three pairs of hands made quick work of it, though, using soap, knives and oils to wash, shave and moisturise his face into a ten year younger version of itself. Wenbo furrowed his brow at the person in the mirror, struggling to recognise it.

The servants clipped and polished his nails on both his hands and feet, switched his undergarments before Wenbo could notice, and styled his black hair into a skinny bun crowned with a red hat with golden horns. Wenbo sat gaping at the stranger in the mirror as the servants dressed him in crimson silk robes patterned with gold and lavender, draped over blue and purple undergarments, armed with powerful shoulder plates adorned with yet more gold. His sleeves were far too long to be practical, and the shoes put on his feet could have served as weights in Bataar’s training pit.

But by the gods, did he look good.

“Is the master satisfied?” Fu Shan asked politely.

Wenbo ran a hand along his clean-shaven chin and nodded slowly. “You are indescribably skilled,” he whispered.

Fu Shan and the others smiled courteously. “The master is most kind. The master may proceed to the deck. Li Yun will take you there.”

“O-oh, thank you,” Wenbo managed before he was nearly pulled along by a very eager robed servant. As they went into the hallway overlooking the feast hall down below, Wenbo noticed the servant had an incredible tempo, and struggled to keep up in the cumbersome dress. The servant turned on numberous occasions to help Wenbo along, smiling wordlessly all along.

“... Is this how mother feels?” Wenbo thought out loud as they neared the top of the palace stairs leading to the gatehouse, the old dreamer already feeling clammy with sweat. Upon reaching the palace gates, Li Yun pushed them open as if they were made of paper and bowed.

“Please, enjoy Your breakfast, Master Wenbo.”

Wenbo bowed back a little clumsily and stood for a moment dreading the stinging heliopolislight. He swallowed and broke into the dawn, wincing at the morning rays.

“Wen-Wen! Over here!” Wenbo’s eyes focused on a colossal, circular table at the centre of the deck, around which, somehow, every Dreamer and two gods managed to sit seemingly comfortably. He rubbed his eyes at the scene and slowly made his way over, receiving whoops and whaaas at his clothing.

“Oh, sheesh, you look like a darn flower,” Temüjin taunted with a cackle. He, himself, wore a silk vest reinforced with brown wool over a patterned shirt of, indeed, more silk. On his head was a thick, short fur hat which, considering the late autumn, seemed to suit him fine.

Ai stood up with additional blush on her face as she eyed her husband up and down. “You, uhm…” She swallowed. “You fit that robe quite well, dear.”

Wenbo snickered and gave her a peck on the cheek before turning to the table. “My apologies, everyone - I was delayed.”

“The wine flu will do that to anyone,” the snake said supportively from the other side of the table, though his voice was as audible as if he had been standing right next to them. “Now come - eat with us.”

Wenbo nodded graciously as sat down between Ai and his twin.

Altansarnai leaned over Chagatai to talk to Wenbo, forcing the man away from his plate. She held a soft whisper, unusual unless she was nursing a hangover, "Wen, you look like me back when Mama Xiaoli had us do that silly play. Just don't go sneaking off after to makeout with Chaggie in the woods, that's my move."

Chagatai sighed, slowly peeling his wife back to her seat and defensively pulling his plate closer, grumbling -- he was not a morning person.

Opposite of them sat Hermes, her usual alabaster hair a sunny chestnut, complimenting her deep red and gold patterned dress. If not for the hungover scowl she wore as she picked at a mess of eggs, she was the misplaced picture of elegance -- with the no worse for wear Xiaoli sitting beside her happily. The river girl poured another glass of blueberry juice for her wife and passed it along.

“Here you go, sweetgrass - drink up.”

Hermes lethargically tipped the glass to her lips, smudging a mineral paint that Xiaoli no doubt worked hard on applying to her lips that morning -- in spite of her natural ability to change colors. With an airy gulp, Hermes nodded, “Thanks, love.” Her voice was quiet and grainy. The morning had never been any of the dreamers’ strong suits, and especially not the original Dreamer’s and especially not after such a night.

Next to Shengshi sat K’nell, quiet and content. His plate was meticulously laid out, with his hand on a warm cup of tea. His attention was suddenly pulled by Bataar, who bowed his head deeply.

“My God, I have a question.”

K’nell perked his brow, “What would that be, Bataar?”

“Well I was just thinking about heaven, and,” He looked up as if trying to find the correct wording, “What about the other creations beyond Tendlepog and the Dreamers, will they learn the secret of Moksha?”

K’nell pursed his lips, “It is my desire that one day, all of creation will be free to make the choice between the cycle of the pyres and the freedom of Moksha... however, I will not force the knowledge upon any creation not my own (save for two individuals who have the right to know) -- for the ire of the other gods can be great when they are confused or impeded upon. No, I believe I have already attracted too much attention as it is.” His eyes went upwards to the sky, where, hidden by the light of day, his nebula swirled waiting for night to come, “So let us say that I hope others may someday feel the love of it all, perhaps the very same day the others understand the meaning of Moksha -- the same as you all do, now.”

Bataar bowed his head in understanding and the God of Sleep turned to Shengshi, “Perhaps it would also be best to give the other gods time to understand before you let them know exactly what happened on this day -- should they ask. Heaven will be very disconnected, yes, and very well protected (increasingly so even) but I would hate to risk it on the temper of the others. As noninvasive as this all is, the other deities are an unpredictable and volatile bunch, I fear.”

"Would you like me to twist the truth of Moksha's purpose a little while they accustom themselves to its existence?" the snake proposed as he nipped on his glass of juice.

“Unfortunately I fear every lie must be remembered, no,” K’nell pinched his chin, “Morals aside, I don’t think that is the safest option... but I trust it to you -- silence is just as well, should anyone even approach you about it, which is a chance on its own.”

"I reckon most would be accustomed to me changing away from certain subjects, anyway," the snake mused. "Your secret is safe, brother, or so have me skinned and sent to the pyres."

“A good way to end the topic,” K’nell gave a one ‘ha’ laugh, before revisiting his tea with a tip of his cup.

The idle chatter rose and fell at various places around the table like ocean waves. Only Wenbo remained largely silent, silent enough for his wife to notice. She squeezed his arm lightly and asked, “Hey, are you alright?”

Then Wenbo gave her a wry smile and rose to his feet, the red and golden folds of the robe about his legs falling to the floor with a hollow thud. He gave a nearby servant a nod, and the servant nodded back and ran inside. Soon, from the palace tower, a massive gong rang out like rumbling thunder. The present dreamers either jumped or ducked for cover, and the snake raised an eyebrow at Wenbo.

“How did you know about that?” Shengshi asked curiously.

Wenbo lowered his hands from above his head. “I-I didn’t! I was only nodding a greeting at a passerby servant!” He then cleared his throat. “W-well, no matter - your attention was what I was ultimately seeking, anyway. I was, hoping that I would be allowed to say some words to you all - my gods, my family, my friends.” He fingered the spiral-symboled amulet about his neck momentarily and smiled. “... It’s… It’s a joy, really, to be a Dreamer. Throughout our whole lives, we have wanted for nothing; we have been given everything. Our creator has loved us since we were born, and our parents have raised us to be proper and righteous and smart and--... Well, there are no words in any language known to me nor any but the gods that can accurately describe the gratitude we feel towards you.”

Xiaoli wiped away a heartfelt tear. Color (Or lack there of) returned to Hermes’ face as she listened, putting a hand flat on Xiaoli’s back and sniffling with a certain pride. K’nell clapped his hands three times.

“I fear then, I have terrible news,” He smiled wide, “But I have not quite exhausted my gifts just yet.”

Wenbo and Ai exchanged looks. “M-my God, we cannot possibly--...” Wenbo insisted.

“Please,” K’nell insisted, “To a god, these are but motes of dust. To a god who cares, this is my joy.” He snapped his fingers and the sky rumbled loudly. He made a small face and snapped his fingers louder and the sky crashed with a sudden flash of lightning. A third snap and a stray bolt landed in K’nells hand -- momentarily blinding the table. As vision returned, the god was standing, a sword as black as night safely tucked in a matching scabbard hung from his hand.

“The world is a dangerous place, with many rivals and many criss-crossing plans. I may be leaving to tend to your futures, but I will not completely forsake you in your present,” K’nell explained, “The Warden now waits, should you the dreamers who remain ever find yourselves violently threatened, simply rip this blade from its scabbard -- and my wrath of yore will see you back to calm waters. I pray you never have the need to touch it after this day.”

K’nell walked over and presented the long blade to Wenbo, the metallic scabbard tight around it. The crowd was quiet, as K’nell locked eyes with Wenbo, “Do you accept my first gift of the morning?”

Wenbo fell to his knees and inclined his head as he raised his quivering hands. “O great God - it would be my most profound honour to accept.”

The cold metal chilled his palms as K’nell placed it gently into Wenbo’s grasp, “Next, I shall finish a task that Chagatai had started -- seeing as I feel his efforts should not go in vain.”

The sleepy Chagatai blinked a few times, “My what?”

Before he could answer K’nell snapped his fingers again and a great flash seemed to halo around the heads of the congregation. With a crack they dissipated, but not before leaving the knowledge of husbandry and domestication in the minds of the dreamers. Before anyone could react, K’nell snapped his fingers twice more, and the halos returned with a fierce brightness. As they faded this time, the secrets of hewing and working stone was revealed alongside a coveted secret of mortality -- the ability to extract and form metals from the earth.

Hermes stood up, “If I may.” K’nell turned to her and nodded. The Original Dreamer looked out over her still reeling children and pursed her lips, “I have a few gifts of my own to give my baby Wen and his clan.”

Wenbo looked between K’nell and Hermes with a look like he could faint at any moment. “M-mom, a-are you certain?” He busied himself with tying the sword to his waistband, his fretful fingers failing to fasten it fixedly. In the end, he shoved it underneath the waistband in a panicked hurry to look presentable before standing to face his mother.

Hermes nodded and looked to Xiaoli, “My book?” She gave a baggy eye’d smile to her wife and held out her hands. Xiaoli shifted for a moment and quickly procured Abanoc’s book of wisdom. Hermes clasped it gently and whispered a thank you. She turned back to Wenbo, “First, my book. If it wasn’t for this book, well I don’t think you’d be alive.” She gave a half smirk, “Don’t try to read it more than once a day, and drink plenty of water before.”

Wenbo slowly closed his fingers around the aged, yet divinely immortal leather. With one palm, he stroked a fine layer of dust off its cover and swallowed. “This… With this, we can learn anything, right? That’s what you always told us.” He grinned with juvenile enthusiasm. “Anything we want!” He nigh tossed the book to Ai, who not only managed not to catch it within the millisecond she had to react, but only took it straight to the chest and expelled a choked ‘oof’. Wenbo, however, busied himself with embracing Hermes with all the childlike joy and filial love he could muster.

Hermes squeezed her son with motherly enthusiasm before pushing him back, almost a little roughly, “Okay! Okay! I’m not done.” A cheshire smile was on her face as she popped under the table for a moment and began to rummage. Slowly she stood back up with a fine looking wooden spear, a bone head as sharp as can be on the end.

“Word of the wise, don’t ever drop this in the water,” Hermes grinned, “It is the spear of fishing.” Her words were almost mouthed by the onlookers, everyone well aware of it. She shrugged a little, “And now it is yours.”

“I’ve always thought the name was a bit--...” He took the spear and cleared his throat. “Thank you so much, mom. It, along with everything we have been given yesterday and today shall maintain and solidify our people’s position as… Well, as those who dare to dream of an eternity in Heaven, and as those who strive to make life in this flawed world similar to it.”

Hermes smiled and dropped a shoulder, hefting something else from under the table. With a might grunt she pulled out the Narzhakian club and hefted it over her shoulder, “And this--- well this I’m keeping.” She snickered mischievously, inciting a collective laugh. She looked around shocked, “What? It’s fun.” She winked.

“It’s probably for the best that you keep it, anyway,” Xiaoli teased. “Our poor son is running out of hands.”

Wenbo did indeed stand quite sheepish-looking with a spear in one hand, a book, which Ai had thrown back at him, under the other and a sword on his hip - all of which contrasted considerably with the fiery flamboyant robe about his person. He pressed his lips together and bowed as best he could to Shengshi.

“Your Lordship - is there a possibility that some of these can be stored here for the time b--woah! Okay.” A group of servants switfly came over, took the book and the spear, tied the sword scabbard properly to his waistband and brushed some dust off his robe - all in the span of an eyeblink. Wenbo hummed in a manner that chose the fence between surprise and habit. “Are they always that efficient?”

“Crackle.” An indifferent Cloudling noted.

“They are,” the snake assured. “Now, sensing the mood, I suppose I should make due on my promises to those that remain - although I imagine your numbers have dwindled ever since the great Moksha was announced.”

Wenbo eyed the various faces of his family - a few looked away, but most looked back with smiles of varying enthusiasm. The snake followed his glances with reptilian orbs. “I propose that those that go with Wenbo line up along his flanks. Let the clan of Wen, as well as any others who choose a mortal life on Galbar, come forth - let your blood run as rich and prosperous as the great Nanhe.”

Wenbo found himself frowning, yet donned soon an earnest expression as he took a step away from his chair to allow for better room. He collected his hands behind his back, then thought better of it and instead opened them in front of him.

“Whoever so wishes to found with me a Dreamer nation upon this mortal soil, come to me.”

Ai was the first to rise. She walked slowly over to her husband and stepped into his arms, embracing him lovingly, a gesture which he returned wholeheartedly.

As they broke, their youngest son rose - De. He slowly made his way over alongside his wife and twin daughters. As one, they embraced the clan father, and he embraced them back. Next came a lone Urangtai, an eager bounce in his step. He, too, was embraced like the others.

Then came Wenbo’s eldest daughter, Bei, taking her family along with her. Her husband took a longer while to say farewell to his parents Bayarmaa and Li, but eventually came up to embrace Wenbo as well.

Seven of Wenbo’s children ended up rising to join their father and mother. Among them was the parents of Song, and as soon as they had been embraced, the lovesick young girl nigh attacked poor Urangtai and clung to his arm like a leech.

And as the final daughter had come to him, Wenbo and Ai looked to their final child - the oldest son, Ren, his wife Naran and their two children, Cai and Qi. Wenbo and Ai beckoned them over, but the snake shook his head.

“Wen Ren, Wen Naran, Wen Cai, Wen Qi - you are granted, in this instance, a free choice to enter Heaven through Moksha or remain with your family in this world of mortality. Is this a life you wish for?”

It was then that Ren, unable to meet his parents’ gaze, shook his head shamefully. Naran laid a supportive hand on his shoulder, but could not muster the strength to look at the remainers herself. Cai sat wordless and looked at the ground and Qi sat kicking in his seat, blissfully ignorant of the affairs happening around him. Wenbo and Ai looked devastated, but the snake nodded somberly.

“So be it. Are there any others who wish to remain mortal until death reunites you with your loved ones?”

“Someone has to keep the words of the great master in this life,” Zhong Wang suddenly piped up and stepped forward, perhaps a little puffed up, “I accept the task.” With his declaration, four other dreamers of various families stepped behind him.

Zhongcheng sniffed and flicked a proud tear from the corner of his eye. Laia patted him supportively. Also Zhong Wang was accepted with an embrace from both Wenbo and Ai. The snake clapped his hands.

“Then it has been settled. Sons and daughters of the Clan of Wen, the last Dreamers of Galbar - I, Shengshi, Lord of the Thousand Streams and Herald of the Harvest, bestow onto you my blessing.”

The air oozed with the nutty scent of grain; as the wind breezed through the canopy of the surrounding forest, the sound of ripe snapfruits jingled in the air; a distant drum of a rumbling river completed the backdrop to the bark brown light trembling between the snake’s hands. He rose from his seat and slithered around the circular table towards Ai and Wenbo.

“Hold out your hands, first of the Wen Clan, and receive the blessings of your bloodline.”

Ai and Wenbo did as they were told and the snake placed equal amounts of light into each of their cupped hands. Upon closer inspection, the light radiated out from small amounts of soil that swiftly absorbed itself into the Dreamers’ skin. Ai and Wenbo inspected their hands thoroughly and gave no sign that they had actually felt anything. The snake spoke, “... As long as a field is sown and worked by Dreamer hands, it shall always bloom with its greatest bounty.”

The snake conjured a new light, this one golden like the rays of Heliopolis. He deposited it in their hands as before. This was molten gold, and with their new knowledge of metalcraft, it felt instinctive of them both to drop it immediately. Yet, as before, it dug itself into their skin without leaving so much as a mark. Ai marveled at her unburnt hands and the snake spoke, “... As long as Galbar is walked by Dreamer feet, wealth and prosperity will uncover itself before them.”

The snake conjured a third light, one of lavender purple, transparent brightness, apple-flesh yellow, deep red, and constantly shifting. He poured the light into the Dreamers’ hands and the scent of wine permeated across the deck. Wenbo felt a sneaking gag and did his best to suppress it. The snake spoke, “... To keep your cups and your guests’ cups from emptying, I bestow upon you the knowledge to brew whatever fruit or grain you find into wine.”

He then slithered back a step and tapped his temple with a wink. “Then your final gift will be waiting for you at the Dragon’s Foot. I think it will suit your requirements for safe, comfortable travel quite nicely.”

Wenbo drew a breath through the nose, took a step back as well, and lowered himself into a kowtow. His family, as well as the new additions to his clan, all followed suit with varying levels of neatness and skill.

“From the bottom of this servant’s heart, Your Lordship - thank You.”

The snake raised his hand for them to rise. “Like my dearest brother said: ‘To a god, these are but motes of dust. To a god who cares, this is my joy.’ Rise, Clan of Wen - rise, people of K’nell, people of Shengshi.”

All the dreamers around the table, plus Xiaoli and K’nell (who had never sat), all rose up. The snake raised his hands into the air. “Let this grand occasion forever be remembered by the mortal and the immortal. To those that remain, I will always be with you; and to those that leave, you are in the best hands ever shapen.” He gave K’nell a respectful smile.

K'nell gave a nod, "With that, I believe our ceremony has concluded." He smiled, "May I suggest finishing your breakfast before the final parting -- wouldn't want to be wasting food, now would we?"

Hermes nudged Xiaoli, "That is how we met," she winked.

Xiaoli blushed a warm pink and giggled. "Want me to find you some mango peels?" she tested.

“Only the finest,” Hermes pressed, “with a side of scraps.”

Xiaoli smirked smugly and gave her a wink. "Alright, everyone. Make certain to leave as little food as possible. I may be the best cook in our family, but not even I can match His Lordship's chefs, so make certain you eat your fill of this banquet now."

"Ain't gotta tell me twice!" Temüjin declared and dove for a plate of beef stir-fried in fermented beans. As if rallied by Temüjin’s battlecry, the other dreamers quickly made themselves busy with their food. Small chatter arose as the plates began to stack up, and before long the breakfast feast turned into a mellow chat room with happy goodbyes and wistful stories. Much to K’nell’s delight -- it wasn’t a very sad occasion. It would seem, in their mortal wisdom, that the dreamers definitely knew how to part ways.

“It’s no coincidence,” Hermes suddenly said, as if knowing what her God was smiling about. She leaned in, pulling Xiaoli along with her (and away from a particularly meaty bite of food), “One of my first rules of the house was to never leave sad or angry. I think it stuck, isn’t that right, love?”

“Yeah, and I cannot tell you how happy I am that it did,” she answered and sighed with relief. Meanwhile, Wenbo and Ai toasted Chagatai and Altansarnai with gusto; Urangtai hid behind a wall of girls wishing Song a most prosperous wedding and farewell, much to her annoyance; Zhong Wang embraced his parents and once more made promises to further the philosophy of his clan.

A long moment passed before Ai and Wenbo finally were visited by Ren, Naran, Cai and Qi. The parents eyed their children and grandchildren in silence, receiving the same treatment in return. Eventually, Wenbo and Ai opened their arms and donned somber smiles.

“... You have no idea how much we will miss you, son,” Wenbo nearly whimpered. Ai sniffed and gave an agreeing nod. The oldest son’s eyes shone in the morning light and he had to look away as he blinked.

“I, uhm… Pardon me,” he cleared his throat, “We will truly miss you, too, mom, dad.” Then they embraced. Ai eyed Naran, who stood silently on the side, and beckoned her over. She drew a quivering breath and joined as quickly as she could. Qi, seeing that the grown-ups were hugging, ran over to copy them. In the end, even Cai succumbed to her emotions and embraced her grandparents.

“We will see you all in Heaven, our children,” Ai reassured. “Make certain the floors are swept when we get there.”

The hug broke apart slowly and Ren wiped his eyes. “Don’t worry, mom, I’ll-... I’ll get it done.”

“Please, come to us soon, mother, father,” Naran pleaded.

“We will - I reckon time will pass for you awfully fast in an infinite world,” Wenbo pointed out. “To you, it will be like we never went our separate ways.”

“Let’s hope so, at least,” Ren agreed.

A distance away, the snake approached K’nell and patted him on the shoulder. “Well, I suppose this will be the last time I see you in the material world.” He held out an open hand. “Thank you, K’nell - thank you for being my closest friend and brother for all this time.”

K’nell shook the other God’s hand with one hand and held up a cup of tea, “There aren’t many I would call my friend, and fewer still if you count the deities of Galbar, but I can say without a doubt that you are such. I hope that one day you too shed the cocoon of Galbar, but until then -- I’ll be seeing you in a better place.”

Shengshi nodded with a grin, and the two shared a mutual shake before turning to their subjects. With nothing left to go over, the two decided it was time to announce the departure. There wasn’t much fuss with bellies so full and hearts so saturated with comfort and compassion, and soon everyone began to shuffle to their appropriate places.

The Dreamers begun their descent down from Jiangzhou on stairs of water. Final farewells were exchanged, and once everyone that chose to remain had made it off, the gong in the tower sounded once more with a mighty, thunderlike bang. The water beneath the ship stirred to life and it slowly began to rise off the ground. Aboard the deck, the Wen Clan stood waving their hands joyously at the Dreamers below, who returned the gesture. A final nod was exchanged between the snake and the dream god before the ship once more became but a golden speck on the horizon.

K’nell cracked a cheshire grin and turned to his first, Hermes. He cocked his head, “My dear, have the remaining go to the platform of Limbo, I will be there shortly.”

“Shortly?” Hermes asked.

“I have one last person to talk to,” K’nell smirked, “Your first daughter.”

Hermes nodded, biting a finger, “Will she be able to visit?”

“Of course.”

The words seemed to drop a weight off of Hermes and she nodded with a melancholic smile, “Good... I don’t think I could stand to wait otherwise, not with my baby Wen and darling Ai already gone.” A small speck of sadness creeped into Hermes’ voice and K’nell put a hand on her shoulder.

“You will all be reunited soon enough, don’t you worry.”

Hermes looked back up at K’nell with a side cheeked smile, “I know... Thank you... I’ll go gather everyone.”

K’nell nodded and turned towards the coast.

---

The waves of the ocean crashed on the sheer cliffs of Tendlepog. The sulfuric smell of grinding stone mixed with the salty sea air. Closing his eyes, K’nell’s divine ears could hear Shengshi’s massive ship creak in the air over the mountains far inland -- already prepared to leave. Without looking, he pulled something from his pocket -- a tickling wisp of light. Keeping his eyes closed, he let the delicate wisp spiral from his hand and to the crashing ocean below. A slanted smile tucked into his cheek and he let his fingers close over an empty palm. Sucking in a hearty breath, K’nell set his mind back on track and upon opening his eyes, he smiled -- a speck was on the horizon.

And that speck was a figure of white, with Wreanon by her side. As soon as her eyes fell upon Tendlepog a toothy smile crept on her face and her heart beat faster. Home had never looked so good, and she simply couldn't wait to tell everyone what had transpired when she was away. About the Eye, Rowan and her family, her people the Nebulites and what she was teaching them and how Rowan was with child! Which is why she traveled alone. It would be good to see her mothers again and talk to them about such things. But before her was a figure upon the cliffs of the ‘Pog and so Arya drifted closer and closer till she made put who she saw. And that figure was none other then K'nell.

“My dear,” His grainy voice called out to her, almost beckoning her to stand by his side. And land by him she did, giving him a hug before pulling away.

"I didn't expect to find you here K'nell. It's good to see you!" she said happily.

K’nell folded his arms behind his back and smiled, “On my own land?” His smile grew at the corners.

She giggled, "Well I meant here. It was almost like you were waiting for me." she said slower before taking on a concerned look. "Did something happen? Is Hermes and Xiaoli okay?" she asked quickly.

"Mm," K'nell hummed, "If I'm to be honest, Hermes is nursing a headache, but otherwise everyone is unscathed." He leaned in with a smile, "The Dreamers put together quite the celebration last night, you see."

Arya sighed in relief and visibly relaxed. "It seems I'm a day too late! But it's good to hear that they are okay."

"Indeed!" K'nell took an appraising step back, "And you seem healthy, yourself?"

"Yes! Never been better actually. I'm sure you know all about why." she said chuckling. "I must ask, if everyone is okay then why have you waited for me too arrive K'nell? Is this about the dream I shared with Karamir? You did say you wanted to talk." she scrunched her nose in thought.

"Precisely," K'nell held a finger up, "By chance did you see the night sky last night? I will not judge you for having slept through it."

She shook her head. "I flew through a storm yesterday and landed too tired to think." she said.

“Ah, then perhaps you will see it tonight,” K’nell pinched his chin, “No matter, but yes, the words I spoke in that dream have a ring of truth to them. The world is changing, in fact it is just about to!” He paused, “But for the better, fortunately.” K’nell swallowed hard, ready to make his pitch for the third time since he had the sky torn. Slowly he walked Arya through the situation, her demeanor and body language becoming blank as she listened, from the promises, to the process of heaven, to Shengshi -- and finally to her: “So you see,” He said, “All that I had created shall be whisked away to this eternal paradise, and those of mine who remain shall enter my land upon death via their pact with Moksha, the nebula of the night sky. As my ward, it was imperative that you not only know this, but know of a particular task I require of you -- but first...”

K’nell looked into Arya’s eyes, his gaze flickering as if searching for something, “As my family, I have two gifts to present to you -- should you accept them. Firstly, know that I can do to your subconscious what I did with Shengshi’s and allow you to visit the Heaven in the dreamscape... so you mustn’t wait for death to see your home and mothers, and second, I can offer you the secret of Moksha as I did to the dreamers, so that you may choose to join heaven upon your own death.” K’nell pursed his lips, but cut Arya off before she could even open her mouth, “Before you speak upon this, know that I have taken the stance not to force this knowledge of an alternative to the pyres upon anything not of me -- save for you and one other. The other gods may take affront to this breaking of the cycle despite the fact that it does not take away from Galbar, so I must ask that you too follow my caution and do not force the secret of Moksha on others. With my blessing, you may provide the choice to those you love, but do so safely. I await the day all of Galbar can taste heaven, truly I do, but as it stands I ask nothing short of tentative caution and empathetic respect on the subject.”

Silently little black tears fell down her face, as she stared blankly into K'nell's eyes. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess of questions and whys and she had no idea where to start. She felt a pit in her stomach and even though she knew she could see them all still, it wouldn't be the same until she was… dead. Was it all just a dream within a dream? It felt wrong to just… leave Galbar and everyone behind while they burned. She had never realized that an alternative could exist, or had she hoped that death would never claim her?

"I...I…" she began, stammering. "I d-don't know what to say."

K’nell made a slant with his mouth and held out his arms. With what could have been an awkward step, the god moved forward and put his arms around the original Nebulite. With a ginger hug, he nodded slowly, “That’s okay, my dear.”

For once, Arya did not hug him back, but neither did she push him away. She let him hold her for awhile, before saying, ”Why now? Why now after all this time? Why did you wait for them to come and live, before deciding to take them away?” her voice came shakely.

K’nell reposed himself and squinted, “Creating a heaven is no easy task, it takes time.” He flicked a finger off his chin, “The dreamers are a beautiful people who taught a bitter god what to ‘come and live’ truly means. I heard their prayers, and I have fulfilled my promises to them, and to their mother -- whose words have tickled my ear since the dawn of creation. I am not sure if any of this answers what your seeking, but that is that.”

Arya gave a slight frown. Why were God’s so difficult to get straight answers from? ”This Heaven is safe, yes? But you have to die to get there? Then tell me, those that are inside, can they grow? Can they dream there? What do you even mean by infinite possibilities?”

K’nell knitted his brows over a slight smile, “Picture a paradise -- no catches though, no ‘well what about this’ or ‘but then this!’” He leaned forward slightly, “Picture it truly. Whatever it may be to you: it could be a land of feasts and battle. A world ripe with challenge, I don’t know. I will say it like this: whatever paradise you imagine comes from a single idea, perfection. They will live there. So to answer your question, if that is what paradise is, then yes.” K’nell scrunched his nose, “I love them, Arya.”

His heartfelt answer gave her pause. She had never heard K’nell utter such a word but she knew in her own heart that it was genuine. ”I love them too. From the moment I met Hermes and saw those boys for the first time. Ever since my first dream… When I met the Dreamer who gave me answers for questions… They and you, were never meant for Galbar were they?”

“I think we were,” K’nell put a hand on her shoulder, “But in the way the wind is required to blow the pollen of a flower, rather than to be the soil under it. We were here, I was here but this wasn’t our destination.” He paused, “Nor is it yours should you eventually choose Heaven. There will always be a home for you at the next step, and if you couldn’t calculate it from my ever-twisting words and--” he laughed to himself, “Well what must seem like inconsistencies,” He smirked, “I’m proud of you, and you bear a place in my heart right with the others.”

She sniffed back tears and cried softly, ”Thank you, K’nell. You were… You are and always will be, one of my fathers.” she trying to wipe the flow from her face. ”What of the Palace and your sphere?”

In the middle of telling Arya that they would see each other again, he suddenly stopped, “Ah a detail that must have slipped my explanation earlier,” He shook his head, “My palace and sphere, the dreamscape, is combining with my Galbarian creations to make this heaven. Of course there is more to it, but that’s the short of it. Sleep and dreams will grace Galbar indifferent to the change, and my promises to you about the warm drinks before bed will stand in my kingdom.”

”I see.” she said, before sighing. ”What happens when you tell me these gifts, and another god decides to go snooping in my thoughts? You know I would… Only tell those I loved, but there’s always the possibility of others finding out.”

“Hermes thought of things like that,” K’nell looked past Arya, “This heaven to her is the liberation of her children not only from the cycle of pain, but from the more invasive gods.” K’nell pondered a moment, “You bring up a valid point though, and while I cannot offer much comfort on it, perhaps a small persuasion?” K’nell tapped Arya’s spiral, and it glowed for a moment, “Let us hope whoever attempts to breach your mind falls asleep first, yeah?” He smiled in conspiracy.

She shut her eyes and smiled as she nodded, before opening them up. ”That gives me comfort. Oh! If I ever wanted too… Let's say by some… happenstance that I have children, would I be able to teach them how to enter the heavenscape? So they could meet their grandmothers?” she said, curling her feet and looking to the ground.

“Of course,” K’nell smirked incredulously at the question, “You have my blessing to give the secret to all you love. Who knows, maybe eventually it will no longer be a secret that needs to be guarded.”

”Okay… Then I’m ready to learn.” she said looking up.

“When you see the Moksha next,” K’nell started, “It is as simple as meditating upon it. Let your mind wander, explore your subconscious -- question things if you desire. Dream into it, even. Allow your thoughts to be taken by the Moksha, and I will find them on the other side. Do this, make that choice, and heaven will be open to you, Arya. When your mind has come to a rest in the Moksha and is ready for paradise, you will pass through that final door and there you will be: home.”

Arya nodded, a thoughtful look crossing her face. ”Is… Is that all there is to it?”

“Should I add some extra hoops?” K’nell winked with a lighthearted chuckle, “Preparing the mind for Paradise, even after death is no simple task-- but beyond that, it is that easy.”

She giggled, but quickly became somber as she spoke next. ”So then, what happens when one would die here?”

K’nell stared up blankly and reiterated softly, “--Meditate upon Moksha, remember my name and pray to me -- so that on the final day of your final breath, even if the pyres claim your souls -- they will never claim you, but I will.” He slanted a smile, “I will happen.”

She nodded again, then asked a question that had been nagging at her. ”Who… Who is staying upon Galbar?”

“Of the Dreamers?” K’nell blinked, “The Clan of Wen and a few others. I have granted them many boons for their journey through life, and they have not only the secrets of Moksha to guide them home again, but the homage of Shengshi.”

”I should have known it would be Wenbo.” she said with a laugh, ”The others… Hermes and Xiaoli… This is what they really want?”

“Do not underestimate my words when I tell you that Hermes fought for this, she has been fighting for this for a long time,” K’nell answered, “If anything, you should know I value the right of choice. With the creation of Moksha, I offer no penalty for not going to heaven.”

”I just… Wanted to make sure… Maybe I was blind all those years. Maybe I should have talked to her more about what she wanted. I had no idea what she was fighting for, in the end. Perhaps it was better that I did not know. As long as they are happy…” she whispered to herself.

“She is extremely,” K’nell paused, “And I mean extremely excited about the possibility of new adventures in the coming years -- and do not worry about finality, you will speak to her again.”

”I know… But I mean no offense when I say… It won’t be the same without her here, without any of you here. I am happy that you are going to this place, I am, I just wish it wasn’t so soon. I know they’ll have forever together… and eventually I will too… I’m sorry, words are just… Hard right now.” she said choking up again.

“And that’s okay,” K’nell offered, “It is a lot to take in, but I am glad that you understand the joy of it all..” He paused, “There is still that final task I have for you as my ward, if you would care to hear it?”

”Of course. What would it be?” she asked, looking at him with wider eyes.

K’nell’s comforting smile seemed to straighten out, “Arya, there is a man in this world, a man who is on his deathbed. He has held my name close to his heart for a long time, in secret, even. It is one of my final wishes while still standing on Galbar that he too receives his right and is told the secret of Moksha.”

”And where… Where is this man?” she asked nodding.

“He is on the lands of Ohannakeloi,” K’nell nodded, “I can feed his location directly to your memory -- know him as one of the final Hunter’s of the Selka tribe known as the Grottu. His name is revered in his local region, and he is called Yupilgo.”

”A Selka!” she said excitedly. ”I have never met one. Oh… But, what if I can’t speak their language?” she rubbed her chin in thought.

“He knows yours,” K’nell answered, “He has walked with me for quite some time.”

”Well that’s good. Okay, I will do this for you, you have my word as a ward of K’nell. Do you know how long I have to get to him?” she asked.

“I would go as soon as you are able, he is not well,” K’nell said solemnly, “I would reach out to him in a dream, but I fear that he would never wake up after such a dream and furthermore, a man such as he deserves to be told in person.”

”I understand. I should get going…” she said sadly. ”I know I’ll see them all soon enough but can you tell them… Can you tell them I love them?” she asked, her voice small, almost childlike.

“I can,” K’nell’s smile returned, “And they will be expecting their daughter’s visit as soon as possible.” He flicked his chin with a finger, “Shall I say: see you soon?”

Arya began to back up slowly, new tears falling down her cheeks as she nodded. ”Of course, K’nell. See you soon.”

“Then it is sealed,” K’nell winked, “Oh! And simply show Yupilgo your hand, he will know you are my ward... but.” K’nell hesitated, “When I say show, I mean to say let him touch your hand as he is blind, but he will feel the slight raise of your mark, I’m sure of it.”

”I’ll remember that.” she said, lifting up into the air. ”Goodbye… K’nell.” her voice came, full of sadness. Memories of her first time seeing him came back to her in that moment, before they were replaced as he was, now. With a final, teary eyed nod, Arya flew off, leaving Tendlepog to it’s fate.

---

The glade that surrounded the platform of Limbo was packed with Dreamers. Alabaster painted the area while everyone waited with a mumble of conversations. Poppler seemed to have found particular interest in one of the weavers that floated lazily around the platform, and Hermes sat with her arms over Xiaoli’s shoulders, clasped hands over her collar, whispering small things.

The wait was short, but the anticipation was on the rise and by time K’nell stepped up on the platform of Limbo, the growing anxiety turned into a hushed silence. Determined eyes stared at K’nell and the god stared back, but with a comforting grin.

He exhaled slowly, “Heaven awaits.”

There was the beginnings of a small cheer and K’nell bowed his head. As it quickly died down, K’nell reached his hands out towards the ends of the platform. With a loud boom, a rope of energy erupted from each end, the god’s hands clasping the lightning like blasts of power tightly. The sky began to swirl above and the weavers pulsed madly. An ethereal orchestra could be heard bleeding through reality, and then with one final crack of light -- everything changed...

Pink bled through the eyelids of the dreamers, each too afraid to open their eyes. The taste of the sun fell on their shoulders, and at last K’nell’s voice came to them, calm and happy.

“Welcome home, my children.”

Hermes sucked in a breath and slowly let her eyes flutter open. The grove had changed slightly. While the trees were still gnarled and old, the great platform of Limbo was gone. She spun around, letting go of Xiaoli. The breeze tasted slightly different, it tasted free. She sucked it in through her nostrils and out of her mouth, it was crystal. A warm smile grew on her lips and she looked up to the sky her eyes nearly falling into the open blue and the vast orchard of clouds. Heliopolis was replaced with a different blast of light -- it looked almost the same, but she knew it was different -- it was warmer. She grinned and turned to K’nell.

“What other surprises are there?” She asked while mumbles of awe began to rise among the others.

K’nell bounced an eyebrow and shrugged, “Endless lands to explore, things to meet, things to do, things to eat... to drink... to--”

“Walk with me,” Hermes’ cheshire smile stretched across her face as she held out a hand, “Walk me home.”

K’nell tipped his head like a gentleman and caught her hand on his elbow. The other dreamers looked over at the two and crowded behind them. K’nell held out his other elbow to Xiaoli, “Care to join us?”

The river girl stared distantly at the horizon into which the ship had sailed. She drew some silent breaths and nodded slowly at K’nell, a small pebbled smile forming on her face and accepting his elbow with her own. “I would love to.”

Hermes beamed and blinked her love at Xiaoli as the trio began their walk through the forest. Laughter and giggles erupted behind them as the dreamers followed, each holding their loved ones. Forward was the future, and forward was eternity--

”Zzt!”

-- A startled Poppler quickly caught up to the others and with a burst of energy, swiftly whisked himself into Hermes hair, leaving a small damp spot on her messy alabaster head.

---

---

Orvus cleared the trees as he quickly approached the black beach, where long ago Katharsos had landed. Much like before, Laurien was there too. The tall woman wore tight fitting clothes of white, that drifted in the slight breeze as she watched him approach with a blank face. Her hair was undone and also drifting in the slight, salty breeze. Orvus landed in front of her a few feet away, his impact silent as always.

”Hello father.” Laurien spoke, her voice calm and collected. ”Thank you for coming. I know it probably wasn’t an easy decision after bringing the Dragonborn here.”

His eyes frowned. ”Likewise daughter, thank you for wanting to speak with me. I know… Things haven’t been easy ever since-” Laurien held up a hand.

”I’d rather not talk about her, if you wouldn’t mind.” she said coldly.

”I… Of course, Laurien. What’s this about then? How did you know the Dragonborn were here?” he asked, folding his arms in anticipation. Her tone did not go unnoticed by the god.

”The Nebulites like to tell me things, they find me easier to talk to than most. As for why we’re here…” she breathed in deeply before exhaling. ”I’ve made a deal with Shengshi, and I’ll be going with him when he comes to pick up some Nebulites. Those at the tree specifically.”

Orvus took a step forward but stopped when Laurien began to back away. ”I’m sorry father, but I can’t live here anymore.”

”Laurien… Why would you even want to go with my brother? What did he promise you? Is life here not good enough?” Orvus asked, his voice slightly raised.

”Life is fine here… But many share the same thoughts as I do, we were meant for more than this simple farming life.” she crossed her arms and shifted her weight around. ”His Holiness offers luxury and a place to stay while a deal is drawn out and made. He promised us nothing, because it was the Nebulites idea. They want this, his Lordship is only entertaining the idea.”

”The Nebulites idea? Laurien, who told them about Shengshi? Who told them about his supposed luxury? Was it you, or Arya?” Orvus shook his head, ”I am sorry, but this is about Li’Kalla and Silver isn’t it? Whether you want to talk about it or not. This discussion is long overdue.”

An angry expression flashed across her face for an instant before returning to her impassive look. ”Fine, I won’t lie. It was I who told them about his Lordship and my time aboard his River Palace. As brief as it was, it left an impression. I didn’t think they would want to leave, but the idea sounds nice. It’s far better than here!” she turned her head away from Orvus as she breathed in through her nose.

”Listen to yourself! This is your home, you were born here. You would leave it behind for what Shengshi has to offer?” Orvus inquired.

She looked back at him with tears welling up in her eyes. ”I can’t… I can’t stay here. There’s too many memories. Can’t you understand that? I can barely sleep in my own bed after she came. It’s all so surreal.”

”I do understand. I lost my friend, remember? But seeing what she became, sickened me. Do you think I wanted that? For either of us?” the god sighed.

”You should never have killed her.” Laurien blurted, pointing angrily. ”Better yet, you should have went with her and helped! Maybe then that thing wouldn’t have taken her name.”

”Silver didn’t want me to go with! And I didn’t have a choice in her death! It was either me or K’nell! I wish it didn’t have to be that way, but it was, and it happened. I thought we had already gotten over this, Laurien. Why are having this conversation again? I told you my reasoning, and I told you how sorry I was.” The god said, his eyes narrowing.

”Why? Why! Because it’s still relevant, that’s why! I once said I thought about forgiving you but… How can I? You murdered her, without even telling me, or letting me say goodbye. Then she came and I thought… The fool in me thought she would want me… But I was wrong. Now the only thing I can think about is her words to me and I don’t want to be here. I want to leave this place of memories, before they get ruined even further.” she cried out as tears began to fall.

Orvus’ expression softened in that moment and he began to walk closer to her. ”Laurien… I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Do you think I wanted this to happen to you? How could I have ever thought… No… You are right. I was selfish, believing that I was the only one who needed to say goodbye to Silver. I wronged you my child, and it seems I keep wronging you. But still… That doesn’t mean you can go behind my back and speak to my brother without consulting me first. There are many Nebulites here, and I would have listened to this proposal and I most likely would have agreed to it. But now, I have no choice and I will not take yours away, or theirs. If your mind's made up, then I give you my blessing to leave.” the god said, now standing before his daughter. He placed a hand upon her shoulder and Laurien tensed up, before relaxing slightly.

”I know I’ve said this before, but… It means a lot to me, hearing what you’ve said, Orvus.” she said. ”I apologize for going behind your back, for not speaking to you, for not speaking with Arya… I just needed distance and time to clear my head. And during that time, I made my decision to leave, among others.” she said softly, wiping away a tear.

”All is forgiven, my child.” Orvus said, giving her a hug. Laurien returned it, if slowly. Orvus then pulled away, feeling better about the situation. ”If you are leaving… Then you will need something to protect our people. A promise, long since unfulfilled.” he said, backing away. Laurien looked at him with a faint smile.

Orvus shut his eyes, and tilted his head forward. His strength had long since returned and it was time to bring forth a new blade. One of equal power to Wreanon. He outstretched his hand, and from it, he poured forth his strength into the sand below. There was a crackling sound, and the air began to taste metallic.

Black sand began to flow towards a shape rising from the sand, which grew taller in form and stature. Black lightning began to arc from the blade, as the raw power accumulated together. The sword rose further, each particle of orvium coming together for a new, greater purpose. Orvus grasped the ebony hilt, a gem of black crystal sat upon the pommel, and the twisting hilt rose to meet an exquisite guard. The blade was long, stained black by the orvium and razor sharp on either side as it ran to meet the pointed tip. It was long, far longer than Wreanon as it floated to meet Laurien. Orvus felt drained from the endeavor, far more than he had before when creating Wreanon.

Then the sword spoke, it’s disembodied voice was harsh and grating. “Who am I to be bonded with, creator? This fleshy thing?” The sword spun as if looking at Laurien.

”Fleshy thing?” she said.

”Laurien, pay no mention to that. This is Aaldir, and he is to be bonded with you. Grasp it, and be worthy.” Orvus said.

Laurien did so without hesitation, even a little enthusiastically as she grasped the handle. A flash of all consuming darkness enveloped Laurien, before coalescing itself around her in the form of armor. It was form fitting like Arya’s, but Aaldir’s armor did not glow. Instead, it seemed to absorb light, and reflected nothing, not even sunlight. A helmet of jagged horns encased Laurien’s head as well, before it vanished to reveal the smiling face of his daughter.

”How does it feel?” Orvus asked, inspecting her.

”Marvelous! So this is what Arya felt! Truly, I feel wonderful, better than I have in such a long time.” she said laughing.

Orvus cocked his head, her laughter seemed off somehow but he shrugged it off towards excitement. It was good to see her smile again. Laurien held Aaldir high above her head and looked it over, then at her armored hand. She then looked back at Orvus and let the sword float as she opened her arms in an embrace.

She held him tightly for a moment before whispering, ”Thank you Orvus, for everything you’ve done. I’ll always remember you.” The last part caught Orvus off guard and why had she called him by his name?

”You’re welcome Laurien, but what do you me-” but before he could finish his sentence, he froze. He felt a presence on his stomach. When had Laurien moved her hand there? Laurien then pulled away, but left her right hand upon his shoulder. He looked down to see Aaldir, halfway embedded in his stomach. His eyes went wide as he looked back to see Laurien’s face, contorted in anger and pain.

”For Silver.” she gritted through her teeth, before plunging Aaldir’s blade all the way through.

---

She had done it, Orvus had believed every word she had said to him. Every lie, but was it all a lie? It no longer mattered. As Orvus began to fall backwards, she let Aaldir slip out on his own. It had been far easier than she thought it would be. And the final hug, there was no other time to strike. Having learned from Arya, she had commanded the sword to enter her hand, and it had done so. The sword was less than happy with her, but his whispers for ichor did not leave her mind. She felt powerful, far more powerful than she had ever been. She walked over to the side of the god, as he stared up at her.

”It’s painful, isn’t it? Like your heart being ripped to pieces, but I guess in your case, your stomach.” she crouched down, looking as his ichor began to pool underneath him. The sight was sickening to say the least, and a part of herself hated what she had done, but that side was quickly fleeting. ”You know, I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t, but you left me no choice. You killed Silver, and I had to avenge her. You took her from me, so I’m taking you, from everyone. That seems fair, doesn’t it.” she said, crying.
”L-Laurien…” the god said weakly.

”Why’d you make me do it!” she screamed at him, suddenly standing up. ”You were my father, and I loved you! I did! But you loved Arya, Silver, Rowan and the twins so much more than me! Why? Why wasn’t I good enough? I was just your errand girl! You only saved me from Vrog so I could go and find Arya, for you! You were too cowardly to even do that, and you didn’t even kill that monster! If it had attacked Arya, would you have killed it then? Huh?” she said angrily, waiting for an answer. ”Answer me!”

The god began to shake slightly as he looked to the side and away from Laurien, before looking back up at her. ”L-Laurien…” he repeated.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to gain some amount of composure. A thousand different things were going on in her mind, and it was so hard to focus on any one of them besides what lay before her. It was time to finish it. She grasped Aaldir with both hands and held the sword, pointing down, over Orvus’ heart.

”I’m sorry, but this is the only way I can get what I want.” she said in a shakey voice, before taking a deep breath and closing her eyes.

”N-no.” the god said, prompting Laurien to open her eyes. Below her, Orvus’ body shaking faster and faster. And then he stopped, and then he exploded.

The blast sent her flying backwards in the air. She barely had time to stop herself from spinning before she crashed into a tree. The blow surprisingly, didn’t hurt in the slightest, but it did not the wind out of her. She sat up, leaning herself against a tree as she looked down to where Orvus was. Her eyes went wide with horror.

She watched as an arm of shadow erupt from the wound, its clawed hand latching itself onto the beach as it pulled. Another hand erupted adjacent to the first, and planted itself on the other side of Orvus. Both worked simultaneously, pulling itself out from the wound as the god convulsed quietly. There was a terrible ripping sound that shattered the air, prompting Laurien to cover her ears as she watched the thing emerge fully. Then it grew in size, dwarfing even her height. It’s shadowy amass then rippled with scarlet as the life around it wilted and died. The thing began to make noise, a deep huffing sound at first, before she began to understand that it was laughing. It spoke then, it’s voice filling the air and somehow turning everything empty, soulless.

”You forgot your purpose.” the thing said, lifting Orvus up and slamming him on the ground, over and over again until there was a crater. Laurien flinched each and every time as the thing laughed. When the sand at last settled, she saw the thing with a limp Orvus in it’s hand and the voice continued, ”So many mistakes to correct, Orvus. Mistakes that should never have been made. First, I think I’ll start with your pretend family.” it’s hollow laugh rang out again, sending shivers down Laurien’s spine. Orvus flung his fists weakly at the creature, but didn’t connect with anything. ”That was the moment it all went wrong.” it said again.

Laurien felt her heart skip a beat and began to stand up, she couldn’t let that thing hurt others. That was out of the question. ”Ah, and then there’s you.” the voice said, snapping it’s attention to her as it discarded Orvus like a ragdoll over its shoulder. It then made its way to her, in large steps, stopping a short distance away. Before her, a line of plants died but spread no further.

”Is it you I have to thank for freeing me from that torment?” the thing said, leaning in closer. She instantly felt sick and took a step back as more plants died in front of her. ”Ah, of course it was. I smell it on you, the greed, the desire. You wanted this, didn’t you? Now you have it. I am Abraxas, girl, the personification of what Orvus forgot and I have you to thank. I shall grant you three requests, as a worthy reward. I am anything but generous.” Laurien stiffened, for even though the smoky face in front of her was indecipherable, she had a feeling Abraxas was smiling.

Laurien took a deep breath and tightened her grip on Aaldir. ”And they can be anything?”

”Yes.” it said with rumbling anger. Laurien suddenly felt very small, but she stood tall.

”Then for my first request, I forbid you from harming anyone upon the Eye of Desolation.” she said cooly. The Avatar stiffened, and rumbled loudly.

Then with a burst of frightening speed Abraxas shot towards her, and went to hit her, but before he did, he stopped but a fraction away from her face. Wind rushed behind her as she froze. Then the avatar began to laugh again. ”Very well. Anything else?”

Laurien took a quick breath, and gulped as she backed away, clearing from the aura. ”Keep what happened here, and my involvement a secret.”

”A secret? Is the little hero afraid she might be found out?” the avatar laughed again. ”Very well, I shall keep your secret. Your last request?” Abraxas whispered.

”I… I don’t have another right now.” she said.

”Good. Until we next meet, little hero.” Abraxas began to turn away, but Laurien stepped forward and blurted, ”What are you going to do with Orvus?”

”Not to worry about your creator. I shall keep him, very, very quiet. It is what you wanted after all.” the thing said without looking at her. It then flew across the ground like fog and arrived where Orvus had been discarded. It picked up the unconscious god and without looking back, took off, straight up into the sky with frightening speed.

Laurien then fell to her knees and began to cry again. That was not what she had planned, not at all. Orvus was supposed to die, she was supposed to become a god. Instead, something far worse than Orvus had been let into the world. And it was her fault. One, she realized, she would have to live with. She took a deep breath, and composed herself. She had to tell the others that Orvus had left. Another lie, but she was good at lying, wasn’t she?

---

There was a splitting pain in his chest, no, his entire body. He burned, and ached, and he was so tired. Through his daze he knew two things. One, he was being dragged somewhere, and two, Laurien had stabbed him. Why had she done that? Had he failed her so specaturaly that her only course of action was… Was to kill him?

He tried to move anything, but all he could do was open his eyes. He blinked as they focused and Orvus did not like what he saw. He was in the valley of the Mar Tree. How did he- the avatar. The thought brought him panic. How could he spawn such a hateful thing? He had felt it grow in strength the moment Laurien had removed Aaldir. It had burst from his wound, free at last. It was everything he had buried and now it was free.

The valley walls became more and more open as they neared the Tree. He fought sleep, he had to escape or cry out or do anything, but his strength was depleted. He was suddenly dropped, and then a large, crushing hand lifted him up. It brought him to it’s massive face of smoke and scarlet, the aura of desolation kissing his flesh.

”The Tree will bloom again, but first…” the thing whispered vehemently. Orvus then felt his body explode in more pain as he was thrust backwards. His head flopped down and he was able to see several branches sticking out from his divine flesh, more of his ichor beginning to flow. He wanted to scream, he wanted to speak, but he was far to weak for any of those things. He could hardly keep his head up.

”There we are… Here is where you will rot for a time, constantly drained of the substance that keeps you alive. A prison of your own making. Sleep now, and know that Galbar shall be placed into my hands. Sleep.” the avatar said, before his laughter droned on into the silence of nothing.

---

"Do you see that wolf, Valys?" Kalmar whispered.

Valys, who wore the cloak Kalmar had given her, over some loose garb made of more fur, nodded. They stood crouched in some bushes, watching as a wolf feasted on a recently slain deer.

"Tell me... why does the wolf deserve to live more than the deer?"

She thought about the moment. The wolf had killed the deer, proving it was stronger, and thus giving it the right to feed off the kill. Was that what her creator wanted to hear? But that made little sense. If the deer had somehow killed the wolf, would the deer eat the wolf? Likely not - Kalmar had told her that deers only ate plants. Furthermore, why was something more deserving of life just because in one specific encounter it happened to be stronger, or more clever? "It doesn't," she replied, after some thought, expecting to see either a frown or a furrowed brow.

To her surprise, Kalmar nodded instead. "You're right. It doesn't," he shifted his gaze back to the wolf. "Most creatures do not deserve death. Most also do not deserve to live. But things die and are born nonetheless. The wolf killed the deer because it needed to eat. Had the deer escaped, the wolf would have killed something else, or starved and died. If there were no wolves to keep the deer population low, their numbers would swell, and they would consume more and more - competing for food with other plant-eating creatures, which would result in more death and hunger." He looked back to her. "You see, Valys, when something dies in the wild, it is not a question of deserve. It is simply the way it is."

His words, though depressing, were sensible, and she found herself nodding in response. It was grim, but this was the world as it had been created, and it seemed some level of death and conflict was required in order to maintain it. Still, one thing did not sit well with her. "My people..."

"Your people have become part of this cycle and this balance like all others," Kalmar responded almost gently. "You do not exist above it or outside of it. Whether or not you will find yourself at the top or at the bottom depends entirely on how your actions. But I assure you, you do have the potential to rise to the top, and I will help you achieve it." he handed her his bow, along with an arrow. "Take the shot."

She accepted the bow, reluctantly. Kalmar had already showed her how to use it, and she did her best to imitate what he had demonstrated. She nocked the arrow, pointed it at the wolf, drew the string back, and loosed.

The arrow flew forward with supernatural force, but it had not been aimed well-enough. It hit the wolf's leg with bone-shattering force, and the wolf fell as it let out a sudden pained yelp. It rose to its feet and began to painfully limp away, making a desperate and futile attempt at escape. Valys winced, while Kalmar adopted a sympathetic look - whether it was for her or for the wolf, none could say.

The Hunter rose to his feet, and pulled forth a new tool from his belt. A pouch attached to a long length of string. He slipped a stone into the pouch, reared the string back, and then swung forward, allowing the stone to fly. It struck the wolf directly in the head, piercing its skull, embedding in its brain, and killing it instantly. "You will need to improve your aim," he said to her. "Try holding your breath when you take a shot, and do not be nervous. If you are to kill something, you owe it that creature to ensure the kill is as quick and painless as possible."

They skinned the wolf, and brought it back to where a dozen Vallamir were gathered. A fire was prepared, and as the meat was cooked, Kalmar took the time to address the group. "This," he said, taking the weapon from Valys, "is a bow. It can kill targets at great distances, if wielded by an accurate shooter. The problem, as my avatar discovered when he introduced it to the Selka, is that it is difficult to make, and requires a great deal of skill to learn. So I made an alternative."

He handed the weapon back to Valys, and then pulled the strange, strung pouch from his belt. "I call this a sling," he declared. "It is far easier to make, and can deal great damage if used correctly, but is far more difficult to master. But I know you are capable, so I will show you how to make and use them."

And show them he did. It wasn't difficult - it just required a bit of leather, and some sort of cord - which could be made either from more leather, a vine, or some hair. He would show more, and they would pass it on to others.

---

The next day, Kalmar and Valys set out, leaving that group behind. "Where are we going?" Valys had asked him.

"West," he answered in an almost dismissive tone.

But Valys stopped and frowned. "I'm new to this world," she told him, "but even I know that shouldn't be an adequate answer."

Kalmar stopped as well, looking at her with an expression which ranged between annoyance and amusement. "To the mainland. Where we will find more Vallamir," he said, and with those words he continued walking.

They reached the island's coast not too long after. Valys was about to ask how they were to proceed, but Kalmar raised his hands. The lake parted, and a great stone bridge emerged, spanning the several dozen kilometers between them and the other shore. It was supported by pillars but possessed no railings of any kind. The top was smooth and flat, while the underside was rounded.

Valys was astonished. Kalmar had told her of his power, how he had raised a continent and created entire species, but to witness a demonstration of that power was another thing entirely. And an act such as this was only a fraction of the achievements he listed...

She was snapped out of her awe when she saw that Kalmar was already striding forward, and hastily moved to follow him.

---

For years, Valys accompanied Kalmar. They encountered other bands of Vallamir, and shared knowledge with them. They taught them how to survive in the lands of Kalgrun, and gave advice on how to deal with the various creatures. Kalmar told them of the other gods; gods who had not created him, but still had a key role to play nonetheless. Those who stood out to Kalmar, who managed to impress him through either word or action, were invited to come with them. A sizeable group had formed, and though he gave them no name, many had begun to whisper that they were his 'Chosen.'

To be singled out by a god while thousands of others were not brought a certain sense of pride, though Kalmar was quick to warn them about letting it go to their heads. Sometimes, Kalmar would look at one of them, and inexplicably cast them out, as if they had suddenly stopped being worthy. And it seemed they had, for Kalmar always followed such an occurrence up with another warning about not becoming too proud or entitled.

Although the teachings of Kalmar, Roog, and Arae had managed to keep the vast majority alive, thousands had perished in the first winter. One of whom Valys had even grown close to. It had been a tragedy, and a heartbreak, and she nearly grew disillusioned with Kalmar and those who followed him. But then she recalled his teachings, and slowly began to regain her faith.

Many of the Vallamir had come to look upon her as a leader. She was, after all, one of the first of their species - second only to Karamir, of whom they only knew tales of - and the first to become one of 'Kalmar's Chosen.' Additionally, it was clear to all that Kalmar respected her and placed some value to her thoughts. Remembering Kalmar's warnings, she resolved that whatever authority she now possessed, she would take seriously.

Kalmar himself began to change over the years. It seemed as if the longer they travelled, the more talkative he became. As the years went on, he began to frown less and smile more. The most noteworthy change, however, was his appearance. He had been clean shaven when Valys first met him, but had since allowed his facial hair to grow out into a short beard. He once wore furs, much like they wore now, but had since changed to a new and finer attire: a long-sleeved green shirt and pants, as well as brown leather vest, gloves, and boots, and lastly a bright red cape. It was certainly well beyond their means to craft.

When she asked why he wore it, he explained it was to distinguish himself. After all, what stopped a common mortal from claiming to be Kalmar? Valys pointed out that they could simply demand he demonstrate his power, to which Kalmar replied: "And do you think most would so readily make demands of a god?" That made sense, Valys had to admit.

On the tenth year of their travels, Kalmar led them back to the Hunter's Eye.

---

They were at the center of the island, in woods which were almost sacred to most of them (given the island's remoteness and difficulty to reach), when Arryn came upon them.

"Master. It is complete."

Kalmar nodded. "Well done. Lead us there."

The bird nodded, and began to fly from branch to branch, Kalmar and the Vallamir following behind. Many of the Vallamir were already whispering to themselves. What was complete? What did Kalmar have to show them? Was this why they came back to the island in the first place? It was the children among them - those who had been born over the course of the journey - who spoke the most excitedly, and had to be hushed by their parents.

Eventually they came across a stone wall, perhaps fifteen-feet high. An opening, twenty-feet wide, led into a a courtyard, and in the center was a stone building - everything else was an empty field of grass.

The Vallamir marveled at it. Aside from the bridge, they had never seen anything so advanced. Yet even as they stopped to gape, Kalmar continued to walk forward, and Valys followed him. They entered the building, passing by the rounded columns before the entrance, and stepped into a dimly lit room. The room itself was almost empty - an expanse of cold stone, twice as long as it was wide, lit only by the sunlight which poured through the window slits.

At the far end was a stone totem of a bird, perhaps ten feet high, with a single eye and outstretched wings.

"What is this place?" Valys asked, as the Vallamir filed in behind them.

"I'll call it the Oracle," Kalmar said, as he continued on toward it. Some followed, a few remained at the entrance, while others began to spread out across the room in order to better take it in. There was enough space to make them all feel tiny and insignificant by comparison.

Kalmar pressed a hand against the Oracle's stone, which had been shaped to resemble the feathered hide of a bird. "Tell me about griffins," he commanded.

The eye began to glow, and suddenly a griffin appeared within the center of the room. While children hid behind their parents, every adult either simultaneously drew their weapons or made their way to the exit. One had already loosed a stone at the beast... only for it to pass straight through and shatter on the floor. "It's just an image," he said.

Tentatively, Valys approached the 'griffin' and reached out to touch it... only for her hand to pass straight through it. Nearby, an illusion of a Vallamir had also been conjured, to give the projection a sense of scale.

"Griffins are a birdlike species that resides in western Kalgrun. They have the upper half of an eagle, and the lower half of a feline. They make their nests in mountains, and have a lifespan of roughly twenty years. When hunting them, it is advised to use either long piercing weapons, or ranged weapons..."

The explanation went on. Kalmar turned to face his followers. "If you are hunting a specific type of creature, this will tell you where to find it, how to track it, and how to kill it. I have invested a great deal of my power into it. But a location like this is sacred; some may seek to destroy it, or to abuse it. I need people to maintain and guard it. Are you up to the task?"

Valys was the first to step forward. She crossed her fist against her chest and dipped her head. "We are!" she declared. Dozens of others soon followed. "We are!" they echoed. None refused.

Kalmar smiled. "Good. This is your purpose now. You will guard this location and the island it sits upon from threats, and in return you may call this temple your home. Valys, I would have you lead them. Does anyone object?"

None did. Kalmar was, after all, their creator. Not their only creator, but the chief one. It was he who raised the land that they now stood on, and it was he who created their progenitor.

A slight grin flickered across Kalmar's features. "Good. Arryn will be responsible for ensuring that the information stored within the Oracle remains up to date. As for the rest of you: I leave you to it. It is time for you to act without my constant guidance."

Some appeared saddened by this news, and one or two even looked frightened, but for the most part, Kalmar's Chosen nodded resolutely. They had been given a sacred duty by the one who created them, and they would perform it to the best of their ability. Valys, for her part, felt a certain sense of unease: she had been placed in charge, and responsibility ultimately fell on her shoulders. Would she prove herself worthy? Or would she fail?

---

"An entire continent? Gone?" Kalmar asked with a furrowed brow.

He stood atop the courtyard wall, Arryn perched on his shoulder. The bird nodded in confirmation.

"Might be why K'nell sent Karamir away, then," Kalmar noted, before looking up at the new star, glowing brightly in the night sky. "And you say that appeared not too long after?"

Again, the bird nodded.

"It's no coincidence," Kalmar decided. "Although we still don't know what happened. I like to think K'nell would have better sense than to erase his creations like that, but I never met him, and I don't know enough about him to say that with confidence." He stroked his chin. "It would be good to know where they went, though."

"What do you intend to do?" Arryn questioned.

"Right now?" Kalmar asked with a raised brow. "Nothing. But I will be taking a closer look at that star at some point. If it's not there by accident, then it'll be good to know what it does."

The two fell into a long silence. "A shame, though," Kalmar eventually continued, looking away so that Arryn could not see his face. "I never did get to see her again after that first meeting. Would have been..." his voice trailed off, and his gaze did not leave the star.

---

My encounter with Eurysthenes still sends ripples through my body. I could not see or feel the one responsible for such an act, but they would have to be irredeemably cruel to do so. To erase the self in such a way is a fate worse than death, to us gods as well as mortals it would seem.

I cannot focus on my projects with that knowledge in mind… I must do something about it.

As memories fall into my domain of Recording it is my duty to combat this blight, regardless of the relation of these cases. Both Melantha and Eurysthenes have suffered a similar fate, though the former seemed less affected than the latter. My understanding of Melantha’s memory loss is limited, from what I gathered from Eurysthenes’ mind I can perhaps find a solution.

First I will need a vessel for this power. Standing up from my throne I walked down the steps to the base level. The very marble of my realm shall suffice. Raising my hands, the marble before me followed my movements and morphed as if it were a liquid. When enough had been drawn out, I gave it form, carefully and gently, as if sculpting with it with hammer and chisel.

Long locks of pearl white, lean arms and shapely, long legs, a hourglass figure and a face that could be of beauty nothing less than divine if not for the mask covering its upper half. Though I applied not a fraction of the effort the sculptors of my past dedicated to their works, the result was much the same: a work of art.

I gently held the face of the statue and laid my forehead to hers. A breath from my lips to hers sprung the marble to life, breathing in the air bearing my essence.

“Mnemosyne, my muse of marble. Blessed is your memory, for it is perfect even to the standards of a god.”

“As you will it, Master.”

Drawing away from my creation, a robe covered her form as I laid down my arms.

“Why was I made, Master?

“Two of my siblings had their memories stripped. I imbued you with all the tools I have available to recover damaged memories, and I hope you can raise above me in that aspect. Though it is selfish of me to create life to be used as a tool, I know not other methods to aid my siblings.”

“It’s for a noble cause, Master. I’m honored to be of help.”

“Then, we will begin by testing with what I gathered from My Brother Eurysthenes’ mind.”

I know not how long it will take to achieve it, but I shall dedicate all the effort I can spare to repair their memories. I can only hope creating Mnemosyne was not a wasted effort.

Yupilgo’s tent was filled with trinkets of the past. An iron spear laid across a wicker chest of old Grottu clothes, and the tools of Ippino were strung from the rafters. The smell of the hunt wafted off of a dimpled stone that laid in a subtle fire, a gentle boil overtaking its contents. Outside the tent, the drills of the Hyummin soldiers could be heard, their wicker, bark and leather shields pounding against their spears, javelins and axes. Yupilgo had recently given his final blessing to a conflict, the K’nights of Tyuppa hoisting him into battle upon his bed, only for the impending battle between the structured Hyummin forces (armed even with the beast of Ippino) and a rogue clan of ne'er do wells to fall flat upon his raspy words -- a K’night shouting them for him.

The scene had sapped whatever energy he had left, but saved a few selka lives -- just as his old partner Panganeem would have wanted. Now he laid in the same bed he was carried in, but beside his gentle fire, body frail. His skin was pulled tight across his bones, his blubber limp and his whiskers long. His blind eyes were milky white now, his eye covered discarded in his final years as some romantic attempt to allow them to feel the light of heliopolis despite his handicap, so they may at least enjoy their final moments as he has been.

His chest creaked and he let out a hoarse cough, the force moving his blood into his legs and tingling the soles of his wrinkled feet. Any feeling in his toes had been long gone, and as the blood receded, so too did his feet and calves fall numb. He clapped his old lips shut and licked them moist. With one blind hand he reached off from his bed without moving, in search for a tiny stone cup of water.

"Here." came a gentle voice, the stone cup entering his hands.

A shaky “oh!” came from the elderly selka. He accepted the cup and carefully brought it to his head, tipping it to his lips. With a loud slurp, he took in enough water to cause a dribble down the corner of his mouth. With a shaking hand, he brought the cup back to the bedside table. Clearing his throat, he finally spoke, “I’m sorry young lady, I didn’t see you come in.” He let out a weak chuckle.

"Not many did." she said warmly. A cloth then dabbed the corner of his mouth dry.

“What-” He coughed a little, but a small smile was forming on his old mug regardless, “What can old Yupilgo do for such a nice young selka?” He grunted his throat clear again, “I’m afraid I’m a little too weak for a story.”

"That's quite alright, my dear Yupilgo. Now is the time for rest, for a new journey awaits you. One beyond imagination, or so I'm told." she said, gently taking his arm and placing his hand upon the top of her own.

Yupilgo’s fingers grazed her skin, feeling the bump of her mark. Slowly his milky eyes widened, “You... you bear the mark of my savior.”

"Yes, he gave it to me long go." she said quietly. "I am no Selka, Yupilgo, but I am a friend. My name is Arya, Ward of K'nell."

Yupilgo’s webbed fingers wrapped around Arya’s hand, “Tell me, Ward of K’nell... what does my God have to say?”

Arya squeezed his hand gently. "He says that you are welcome to join him in Heaven, a place of infinite possibilities and freedom from the Pyres. I have come to show you the way there, as his last wish unto me, if it is what you desire."

There was a pregnant pause, “Show me,” Yupilgo finally urged. Arya sucked in a breath and leaned forward, her words washing into his ear. She told him about the way of Moksha, and K’nell’s promises. She spoke to him about K’nell’s heaven, and what it was. Finally, she told Yupilgo to wait for the night, and to find it in the sky -- and that K’nell had assured her that even in his ailment, he would find it.

By the time she was done, a wet stream of tears was trickling down Yupilgo’s face. He croaked a breath and spoke softly, “I wept like this... on the bedrock of a stream, amidst the cries of a young babe. In my tears, K’nell found me, and it was through his visions I found my own. It seems once again he has found me broken and blind.” Yupilgo smiled, “Ward Arya, could this old man ask a favor of your youth?”

"Of course, Yupilgo, of course. Anything." she said, her voice heavy with emotion.

“Stay with me today, and when the night comes -- bring me outside so I may witness our savior,” Yupilgo gulped out the words, “I want to see.”

”I can do that.” Arya said. ”And when the night comes, you will see.”

---

The chill of the night air wrapped itself around Arya. Despite the bumps the cold air breathed on her, she found her limbs more than capable of pushing Yupilgo’s emaciated frame and his bed out of the tent. The man was wrapped in several blankets, his body hardly producing much heat. His lips trembled blue, but a smile was worn -- he was excited and Arya could hear it in his shuddering breaths.

The two managed to push their way unnoticed through the tents and yurts of the growing Hyummin city. What guards spotted them were easily waved off by the elder K’night, and before the pair knew it, they were by the shores of the ocean. The gentle sounds of the waves of Delphina grew yupilgo’s smile and as if smiling back, the setting Heliiopolis was but a crescent on the purple horizon.

With bated breath the two waited as Helioipolis sunk into the ocean, the purple sky turning to a dark blue and then to an oppressive black. Just as the night sky seemed to settle as an empty beast of darkness, a gentle green nebula began to shimmer past the grey clouds. It seemed to swirl in place, a subtle reminder of who put it there. Yupilgo’s head seemed to jerk towards it, his eyes still milky white and as blind as ever.

A relieved look formed on his face, “The sky is warm tonight,” He said past the cold breeze, “Like a smile.”

”Exactly like a smile.” Arya said, staring at the nebula.

A gentle trickle of tears began to fall onto Yupilgo’s cheeks, “I wish Panganeem could have seen this, or Juttyu... or Ippino (Delphina take care of him).” He shuddered a sight, his eyes closing.

”It’s always those of us who remain that endure, Yupilgo. We remember what others do not, even if the memories are of wanting. But do not despair, for they will never leave us, in the end.” Arya said as she cried silent tears.

Yupilgo’s hand gripped Arya’s “They were the greatest men to ever walk this soil... I only hope some young pup out there proves me wrong about that.” He smiled up at Arya, his eyes swollen with tears. He sighed and closed his eyes, letting his hand fall from Arya’s.

Arya crouched down and kissed the selka on his brow. ”They will, one day.” she said standing back up. A small smile formed on the selka’s lips, his breathing slowing and then suddenly, his chest stopped. ”Be at peace, Yupilgo.” she said, crying. ”The Dreamers will love your stories.”

Arya then sat upon the sand, and held her knees close to her chest. She listened to the waves, before letting out a soft sigh.

---

"Are you sure he said it would be there?"

"He said it would be there on time, Takos. Don't be such a cynic."

Takos scoffed. "Well, Gralph, one of us has gotta be the smart one. Two games of knucklebone gambit with you shows that."

The gathered k'nights chuckled amongst themselves, Gralph included.

"Yeah, yeah, at least it's more than one," Gralph dismissed. "One of us has to be the patient one too, hm?"

"He's got you there, Takos. You can't sit still for ten minutes."

"Oh, shoosh." Takos lightly swatted Reph next to him on the upper arm without looking away from the river mouth. "S'far as I see it, if Kirron said when the horizon goes red we'd see our trial home, we should be seeing our trial home now."

It was already past the orange time of the sunset behind them and well into the pink time. The water of the huge river mouth before them distantly clashed with the sea breaking waves against its flow. The water glimmered with foam and light from the last traces of the sun.

The coast turned red in the short time the k'nights and their aspirants spent regarding the coming night time. That was when Gralph tapped his foot against the sand. Only Anshumat, the demigod watching with them, could perceive the effect that small movement evoked.

It started with a silent vibration under the beach. The k'nights and the recruits behind them peered down at their feet and the world around them, looking for its source. No trees had fallen, no rocks were tumbling, and no crashing waves were so big as to make such a quivering under their heels.

"Look there!" Phorea, the k'night with the keenest eyes, pointed her bulky arm out to the sea just beyond the river mouth. "Something's rising!"

At first it was five straight pale stone pillars slowly reaching out of the roiling water like petrified fingers of an emaciated hand. Instead of a palm, a flat paved platform noisily broke the surface of the sea, pulling with it five spiralling flights of stairs from below. Each flight emanated outward and curled in unison towards their lefts.

Not halfway through the first structure's ascent, a great shallow-steepled red roof washed water to either side beyond and east of the platform, revealing its supports to be closely set white colonnades set into a solid smooth foundation. The two features met when a great surface of earth and stone burst out at their bases, immediately springing out a layer of green grass. The image of the gently sloping hill rose like a lush carpet draped lazily over the stump of some colossal felled tree.

The hill did not rise for long before yet more little structures wrought of earthworks and more white stone seeped out of the ocean at irregular places around it. The final great reveal was the entire enterprise conjoined by a near-flat plane of grass woven with orderly seawater canals. The whole small artificial island had arisen, sculpted and ready, covered in all sorts of mystic stone and earth formations in a structured and purposeful manner.

The rumbling earth went silent, and so did the crowd of selka onlookers.

All except for Gralph. "Looks to be within swimming distance. Good." He lumbered around to face the k'nights. "Alright, the Red Horizon revealed our new home. K'nights, you know what to do for the trial. Get to it. I'll send the candidates out once I see the light at the front of the big building on the hill. Got it?!"

"Yep!" The k'nights all said in unison, more out of habit than shaking off the dissonance in their eyes. They took another second for that -- hardly hiding their shaken faces while gathering up a bunch of equipment tied up in cords and hides. They jogged off towards the water to swim to the new island without looking back.

Gralph finally addressed the gathered candidates, including Anshumat and the brothers Wass and Anboor, who both looked shocked enough to each catch a thrown fish in their gaping mouths.

"Tonight, you'll be heading up to that hill one by one," Gralph said, pointing up to the huge pillar with the spiralling stairs and the great column-wrapped building. "You'll need to grab a torch that Reph will light up before you start. Your job is to go on your own, take it to the water-" he held an invisible stick in his hand and mimed dunking one end into the sand "-snuff it out, and swim back here with it."

Gralph grew serious and continued. "Anyone who wants to back out, you can do so any time you want. There'll be no shame in it. Not everyone's up to becoming a k'night. Let alone a k'night that will head with us upriver tomorrow. Any questions?"

Anboor naturally had the first question, having finally closed his mouth to pay attention. "Ain't that easier than it should be? Why are k'nights so big if all they've got to do to join is grab a torch and put it out?"

Crossing his arms across his broad chest, Gralph grunted down at Anboor. "You been on that island before, boy?"

Anboor quickly breathed in and realised he had not. He blinked. "Of course not, it just rose up out of nowhere a moment ago."

"Then you don't know what it's gonna take," Gralph rumbled. He turned his eyes up to the rest. "As I said. There's no shame if this ain't something you can do."

"Uh, Gralph?" Anboor piped up again, more cautiously this time. "What's on that island?"

Gralph raised his brow and looked over his shoulder. He turned back to Anboor and shrugged. "Dunno. It just rose up out of nowhere a moment ago."

Wass snorted.

Anboor's face flushed red.

Gralph was not laughing. He looked over Anboor's head. "Anyone else got questions?"

---

Darkness had quickly taken over the coast by the time Gralph and the candidate selka spotted the tiny flicker of yellow torchlight. It glimmered from the front of the large colonnaded building, ready to be sought.

"About damn time," Gralph hoisted himself up from his sitting position. "Alright, who wants to go first?"

Between the ominous unknowns of Gralph's challenge and the nighttime uncertainty the dark artificial island radiated, the present members of the river mouth tribe were fidgeting with anxiety. They looked to one another expectantly.

Gralph waited and watched.

After two agitated breaths through his nose, Anboor stood up. "I'll go."

Wass glanced around and took his ankle. "Bro, you don't have to go first," he hissed. "You don't need to save face or nothing, it was just honest questions you had."

Anboor shook off his brother's grasp. "No, I wanna go first. I reckon this is some kinda trick and I'm not gonna be scared."

Gralph flashed a grin. "Good stuff." He jerked his head toward the island. "Go on, then."

Anboor hesitated as if expecting a more formal ready-set-go. He awkwardly broke into a run across the beach and dove gracefully into the waves.

Wass noticed how suddenly difficult it was to see his brother in the waves. The white fire in the sky was casting some light down, but not nearly enough.

Gralph stood and waited.

"Uh," Wass spoke. "Do we all wait for him, or…?"

"We wait." Gralph did not turn around.

Somehow, the wait for Anboor to return felt longer than anything they had waited for previously. All had their eyes pinpoint focussed on the torch in the distance. It did not budge at all.

The village would be settling in to sleep soon. Wass did not feel sleepy.

They waited.

And they waited.

Wass sat down. They waited.

Finally, the sound of legs wading up out of the waves drew away everyone's attention. It was Anboor.

Wass' heart sank at the look on Anboor's face as he walked in broad, rushed paces up the beach. Anboor was breathing shallowly. His arms and knees shuddered and his eyes looked about ready to pop from their sockets.

Wass stood up. "Anboor! Are you alright?"

Anboor stopped. He turned his eyes slowly up to Gralph and swallowed hard between breaths. "I couldn't...I can't do it. I-I'm not…" He broke into a sprint back into the village. He pulled his forearm up to cover his eyes, letting out a sob.

"He's not hurt," Gralph said. "Just spooked. Let him go."

"But he's my brother-"

Gralph spun to meet Wass' eyes. "Let him go or you give up here."

Wass paled. He glanced over to the still running Anboor and back to Gralph. He tried to fight off the concern on his face and, reluctantly, sat back down.

"Who's next?" Gralph asked.

Hagaph tried next. He was the oldest and was just there to get out of marrying a girl he didn't like.

He came back weeping.

The complications of the trial were becoming clearer. The twins Timma and Leph stood up and walked away from the challenge before they could start.

Yoia was after him. She had a will of iron and a voice that could shout anyone down.

She came back shrieking semi-coherently about ghosts and monsters.

Another candidate, the quick-minded Phammos, gave up in turn. If there was a trick, it was not worth solving.

The strong wrestler Ronk flexed his muscles as he rose to the challenge, despite his still puny size in comparison to Gralph.

He returned to the beach empty-eyed, lifelessly muttering to Gralph his concession before shuffling off to bed.

That was that. All the remaining candidates walked away, except for three. The demigod Anshumat, Wass, and the quiet young woman, Phialu. Phialu was a part of the one family that worshipped Kelmre in the village. The whole family was a dour lot.

Wass was getting tired and nervous to the point of short breathing. He considered leaving on more than one occasion. Each time, he did not know what kept him there. Or, in reality, he knew but he did not want to admit it.

He would never get this chance again. He had to try, just like Anboor did.

"Well, one of you's gotta succeed tonight," Gralph said with his fists on his hips. "As much as I can compliment you all sticking around, the trial is the trial, not the waiting. Come, who wants to win?"

Wass stood up without looking at Gralph.

Gralph tilted his head.

Wass walked past Gralph, towards the island.

Gralph smiled as Wass broke into a jog and dove into the garden-lit waves.

He had to try.

---

The swim to the island was colder than usual. The nighttime did not just cool the air and water that Wass traversed, but the pale light from above set the whole world into a blue like an impending rain. Wass focussed to keep his sense of direction. Before long, the solid ground of the island met his hands and knees.

He looked left. He looked right. The island did not move. The eerie scattered stoneworks held their pose.

Wass lifted himself from the water and crept ashore. If there was something to spook everyone before him, he would try to evade its notice.

Sneaking from stone structure to stone structure was a lung-emptying experience. He was in enemy territory. It felt like it. Every shape in the corner of Wass' eyes made his heart jump. Every distant breaking of waves against the island's east made the back of his neck prickle.

But the island was apparently lifeless.

Wass came upon more peculiar structures as he progressed. Four identical structures, each twice as tall as him, stood circling an empty patch of grass big enough to fit at least twenty selka across standing shoulder to shoulder. Each of the four structures had steep steps based in the inner clearing and climbing up to nothing.

Wass climbed up one of the structures to get a better view of his surroundings. He spotted the flickering torch up the hill beyond.

A black flicker caught the corner of his eye -- he ducked for cover as a reflex.

His heart pounded. He held his breath and listened carefully.

Another wave crashed in the distance.

Making no sound, Wass climbed down and pressed on.

The next stone structure was a similar bank of steps, though shorter, longer, and parallel to a long clearing of grass, marked with lines in the grass where bare dirt showed.

"Boolwa…" His ear tensed at a distant, low, gutterally hooted word.

Wass ducked behind the side of the long stone steps.

One of his eyes peeked around. Nothing in the direction of the sound.

"Booooolwa torlac…" Another voice.

Wass spun and saw nothing amongst the structures. That one had come from the other direction.

He immediately ducked into a low run over the long field with the lines to find a better hiding place.

When he hid, he knelt and took a long, silent breath. His heart drummed furiously.

The words were a downbeach dialect. He did not know it well, but he knew the words.

Boolwa torlac… He mouthed. 'Useless meat.'

"Boooolwa…"

Another source of the voice accompanied the sound of grass crumpling under slow feet.

The hidden creatures might have known where he was. They might not. He could not risk it.

He needed to get to the torch, fast.

Wass ducked into a run, trying to keep low to stay obscured behind the stone structures.

Many of them were just more of the steps. Others had strange shapes he could not quickly analyse.

"...Tooooorlac!" Another voice ground out the word like a belch.

Thoughts of phantoms and monsters struck Wass' panicking thoughts. He did not look back now for fear they might meet his eyes in the flesh.

"Tooooorlac!"

Wass was close to the hill now. He was in an outright sprint. He could hear more sprinting behind him.

The words were howled out by one of them.

"BOOOOLWA!"

His legs took him faster than any time in his entire life.

He thundered to the base of the hill and leapt up its slope in broad strides. He heaved in breath after breath.

He was the fastest and most stubborn in the village. He could outrun them. The yellow light of the torch carried a shine onto the grass at the crest of the hill.

Then a shadow cast over the centre of the yellow blades. And with it a grotesque, oily, black, elongated head reached Wass' vision. It was attached to something vaguely selka-shaped, but with arms so long it walked on all fours. It's bony elbows stuck out like barbs, and its legs bent in two places before reaching its feet. A dark, opaque liquid dripped from the creature's chin. It smelled of fresh blood.

Wass halted.

The creature rolled in a breath between a fat tongue and the roof of its mouth like an inward growl. And it howled madly. "TOOOOOOOOOOORLAAAAAAAC!"

Wass shuffled back, his face in a rictus that whimpered on the edge of a scream. He broke into a run across the hill. He glanced down the hill and saw two more of the hideous long-limbed monsters skittering up towards his heels.

He no longer thought straight. He ran and ran, barely keeping his footing on the slope. He did not descend yet, for he had no idea if more were hiding between the stone structures below. He could see better from here. He glanced desperately around for an escape route.

He could not find one before a paved channel of water flowing down the hill obstructed his path.

He was no longer thinking straight. He leaned forward to run up and jumped.

He landed on the other side, barely, before overbalancing. His front struck the grass. He whipped an arm to one side and clutched the hill. Another nudge and he would have entered an uncontrollable roll.

He lifted his head up to see his pursuers.

They did not take long to catch up, but by the time Wass was on his feet again, they all stopped by the channel of rushing water. One stepped a long arm in and suddenly slipped to one shoulder. The others stalked side to side, watching Wass like hungry jaguars.

They snarled out of their disgusting long faces. "Boolwa!" "Boolwa torlac." "Boolwa." One had a long clear gobbet of saliva threading from its mouth, stained with more dark blood. "Boolwa. Boolwa."

Wass looked up at the glowing turf at the hill's crest. Now was his chance. He pushed himself up the hill and beheld the great structures that rose out of the sea.

The stone monuments were enormous this close.

The tower of exposed stairs stood like a mythical tree the size of at least an entire Yimbo if he could stand up. The collonaded building looked so imposing and cavernous that it could have been a cage for a legendary beast. The stonework between them was impossibly heavy. Only the strength of a god could have lifted them.

But Wass did not have time to marvel. The columns and the tower were lit with weak yellow light. Its source, the tiny torch, was his objective.

To his left, the 'Boolwa's resumed in force as all of them ran in an insectile skittering gait to a paved bridge over the flowing channel.

Wass sprinted. He was the quickest, he knew.

He closed the distance up to the torch where it sat, stuck into a stone basket filled with soil at the base of the great colonnades.

He grabbed it.

A sickening sucking sound drew his eyes to another shape emerging from behind the columns. Another black-slicked, elongated monster. It shouted out inselkaly. "We eat your worth! Useless meat, eaten! K'nights in our stomachs!"

"Boolwa torlac!" The pursuing monsters crossed the bridge.

"Boolwa!" Another two crested the hill ahead of Wass, where he had intended to continue running.

"Booooooooolwaaaaa!" Three more emerged from the columns.

Wass turned around and stopped his steps. Two more slathering monsters pulled themselves up the crest he had just climbed up.

"Uuuuuseless meat!" The more understandable one said, taking slow, spidery steps on its four extremities. "Go back to your useless tribe. Die. We eat your worth. We eat your k'nights!"

Wass held up the torch and flinched to threaten the monster back. It was a bluff -- the monsters outnumbered him.

Still, it hesitated. "Put out the light and we eat your worth and your flesh…" The last word bubbled out in the monster's cheeks as it salivated. "Boolwa torlac…"

The monsters circled Wass, slathering and gurgling sounds from their disgusting throats. "Booolwa…"

Wass heard the crash of a distant wave. His terror found clarity for just the right split second.

He turned and sprinted. Not for the crest of the hill. Not for the columns. Not for the bridge. For the waterway.

The monsters skittered after the light he held. The light leapt with Wass into the watery channel and winked out with a hiss. His eyes went dark, previously adjusted to the night but blotted out by the now dead torchlight.

Wass only had water up to his knees, but it was enough. He pushed off the floor of the flowing water and his selka limbs took him shooting off forward with the current. He met the crest of the hill and slid without stopping. Not even scraping the end of the torch against the stone slide slowed him down worth a damn.

The opening of one of the island's straight canals rushed up to his nose.

The world was engulfed in the mute tone of water.

He broke the surface and looked up.

All the monsters ran in sprints down the hill after them, midway through howling incoherently.

But there were new words that chilled Wass' bones. "WRAAAAADAAAA TOOORLAAAC! WRAAAAADAAAA TOOORLAAAC!"

Prey meat.

Wass ducked under the water and swam faster than he ever had in his life. But he was the quickest. He knew.

He heard the howls from the island's shore long after he was back in the relative safety of the sea.

---

Wass pulled himself up the sandy shore of the mainland so quickly he felt like his legs would fall apart if he so much as slowed down.

To everyone else, he looked ready to cough his heart up through his neck. Phialu gasped when she saw the charred stick in Wass' hand. Wass himself was barely able to stumble his way up to Gralph before he fell flat on his face, his chest swelling and receding feverishly.

Wass shakily rolled himself onto his back, showing a front covered in sand and holding up a snuffed torched to Gralph.

Gralph stooped to take the torch. "You did it, Wass." He said with a smirk. "Congratulations."

Wass slumped back onto the ground, his head back and smiling stupidly. A gallows laughter bubbled up from his chest.

Phialu stepped up to them. "You did it!? W-what did you see, Wass? How did you do it?"

"Ah!" Gralph held up the torch. "Don't spoil it. You've still got your turn to go. See?" He pointed to the island again. Another torch had been lit.

Words caught in Phialu's throat. She glanced between Gralph, Anshumat, and Wass on the ground.

Wass pulled his head up to see it, and a sudden wave of rational confusion took his mind, but he did not speak.

"Come on, we don't have all night," Gralph said.

Phialu looked at Wass one last time, huffed with determination, clenched her fists, and ran for the water.

After about a minute, Wass sat up slowly. He still had not caught his breath. "That was...I never seen anything like it. I thought I was gonna die."

"Good," Gralph said. "That means you were tested."

"But-"

"No spoilers. Wait until after."

Wass fell onto his back again.

He did not know Phialu very well. Why she was here was anyone's guess considering she was not very social. Apparently, she was easy to piss off, but Wass thought she was kind of cute, if from a distance.

He hoped Phialu would win the trial as well. It would be nice to have someone else from the village come with them.

But those monsters were fast and well hidden. A worry niggled the back of his mind. The worry grew into the next few minutes. And then it grew into the next several more minutes.

The night wore on just a little more, and the worry prevented Wass' exhausted body from falling asleep. His eyes grew sharp upon the light in the distance. Now that he knew the trial was possible to complete, he looked on with just as much attention as he did with Anboor's shot earlier that night.

Then the light moved. And it winked out. Wass stood up.

Phialu had the snuffed torch.

Before long, the shape of Phialu emerged from the beach. She was limping and clutching her arm.

Still, with grit teeth and determined steps, she made her way up to Gralph and handed in her torch.

"You okay?" Gralph asked.

"My arm…" Phialu groaned. She fell to one knee, shuddering with pain.

Wass squat to look more closely.

Her arm was dripping blood. He had a lot of questions before. This only raised more.

"Take her back to the village," Gralph said firmly. "You both need to rest."

Wass helped Phialu to her feet and she shook him off. "I can walk…" She said, before she swayed and fell forward.

What Wass caught was Phialu's unconscious body. He took her under her shoulder and dragged her away. Unsure, Wass spoke over his other shoulder. "Uh...good luck Anshumat…"

A short padding of feet on the sand and they were gone.

Gralph stood before Anshumat with a hand on his hip. A knowing moment crossed between them. "Well, it's finally your turn, kid." He raised an eyebrow. "You ready, Anshu?"

“I suppose I am,” Anshumat responded, standing up from the beach.

"Well, your task's the same," Gralph nodded upwards and turned his head. Another yellow light flickered to life on the island, just the same as the others. He turned back to Anshumat with a dangerous smile. "I'll be waiting right here."

Anshumat wordlessly dived into the surf, propelling themself rapidly towards the island.

---

The cold water washed across Anshumat as they launched rapidly towards the island, their preternatural senses keeping track of their progress. The demigod had no difficulty with navigation, and soon enough they washed ashore upon the island, water slicking off their silks and their shell. A brief scan of the shore revealed no dangers -- the island was empty other than the plant life and the stones and foundations of structures.

Though Anshumat could not see the torch, they sensed it nonetheless. The lightest sound of flame picked up easily by divine ears and the slightest of temperatures impeccably pointing towards it. Keeping a watch for essences and unusual sounds, Anshumat began to trudge towards the hill.

Anshumat made note of the numerous structures on the island, each definitely serving a purpose. What exact purpose, however, Anshumat could not determine. The island was still, nothing yet sensed. Pushing doubts aside, Anshumat continued to trudge along.

Still, nothing came. The land sloped, and the torch became all the more obvious. The demigod had reached the hill itself. Only a short distance away, the flames flickered. But a detail reached their notice that was not right.

The sound and the flickering heat did not line up. With each wending of the flame, there was the rushing of gas and heat, but a similar sound backed it. A sound with a slow, regular rhythm. It thrummed twice...and twice again...and twice again. A heartbeat.

A pause, as the demigod considered its source. They decided to steel themselves against hesitation, and with a few short strides, Anshumat reached the torch. After one last check of the surroundings, they picked the torch out of the basket.

They froze.

The sound of muscles and keratin churning slowly into action preceded two large eyes opening upon Anshumat where they stood. A huge creature leapt up from behind the columns before the torch, apparently not obstructed by any roof as it flapped a pair of colossal wings to climb higher.

Anshumat’s blurry sight lit up with essence as the beast revealed itself. Anshumat sprung into action immediately. They bore the stance of a warrior and made haste to present a fighting retreat.

A rush of air hit the demigod as the beast dove upon them. Anshumat presented a hand, and with a violent jerk of the arm, swiped leftwards with a chain of divine energy. It lashed across two sets of massive talons and they crashed into the grass at Anshumat's left. The thud carried all the way up the ground to their jaw.

The limbs of the beast were covered in bright red scales all the way up their length. It covered a freakish muscle mass that cast shadows on the surface with its tensions.

Snarling set of dagger-like teeth big enough to bite the demigod in half flew in.

The demigod hunched down and pushed upwards, launching into the air to avoid the beast. Its jaw clapped shut around empty air. With another flick of the divine energy, Anshumat crashed the chain into the beast’s temple, in the hope of stunning it. The chain clacked off hard scale to little effect but to make the creature roar into the sky.

Anshumat's sense of direction blurred. The roar rang supernaturally loud against his sensitive hearing. A huge scaled arm drew up before it could be noticed and slammed Anshumat out of the air. The beast must have leapt. The sky was no sanctuary.

The demigod's body thudded and rolled against the grass, painfully winded.

The beast in the torchlight thundered towards Anshumat on all fours -- a winged reptilian creature, covered in blood red scales and with smoke wafting from its almost horse-like nostrils. This was no wild animal, its essence was too bright. Too fiery.

Climbing to their feet, Anshumat whipped the chain of divine energy once again, violently smashing it into a stone pillar. The energy sliced easily through, collapsing the stones down upon the creature. The creature slid and failed to displace itself from the falling masonry. It was pinned in a cloud of dust. Then, Anshumat slammed the chain directly down upon it, beating back towards the shore as they tried to hold the beast down. But already the stones were shifting.

The time was bought. Every length of ground gained in the time before the creature pulled itself up and snapped the chain with its mighty jaws was pivotal. Anshumat barely flew down the hill to the stone structures before a great beat of wings displaced the air behind him. They could feel the beast gaining, flying up behind them. They could feel the fiery essence building in the creature's mouth. He had seen such essence in selka cooking fires, at barely one one-hundredth the strength of what it was here.

Anshumat acted quickly, crouching down with the torch as they projected their powers outward, a glimmering shield of divine energies separating the beast and the demigod. Anshumat braced. And the air around them roared in bright, burning yellow.

Even through the shield, they could feel the radiant heat sweltering against their exposed shell. The entire world drowned in the sound and the light.

With their free hand, Anshumat formed a lance of blindingly bright energy, the light powering through the flames around it, piercing into the free air. The island lit up, the sky whitening painfully. Then, with a mighty heave, the lance launched outwards, passing through the shield. It slammed effortlessly through the force of the fire.

Directly into the open mouth of the beast.

A deep rumble sounded from the lance, the light pulsating wildly. It cracked apart with unimaginable force, an explosion of divine energy expanding outwards with power that made the flames of the beast quail in comparison.

The creature screeched and recoiled up onto its hind legs. Smoke billowed out between its teeth as it backed away and shook its head from side to side like an animal with a biting insect in its mouth. It beat its taloned hands furiously against the ground, screaming and trying to locate the demigod with its eyes flashed to temporary uselessness in the night.

Taking advantage of the beast’s blindness, Anshumat shot forwards with unnatural speed, powering another divine lance in their hand. This one was not the gleaming beam of the previous one, but it nevertheless held significant power. Flinging themselves up onto the head of the beast, Anshumat began to stab. The lance plunged repeatedly into the beast’s eye. A fortunately placed horn protruding back from the creature's head was sure enough purchase while it thrashed and screamed. Not even the volume of its roars could distract such a simple task, but its disorienting effect punished complacency.

Anshumat found themself -- still atop the beast's head -- rushing towards a flight of pale stone steps. They leapt from the top of the beast’s head before the stone smashed against it. They hung on the side, not done yet. The demigod took the lance, still soaked in the simmering blood of the beast’s eye, and used it to pry open the other eyelid. Then, Anshumat projected an explosive force of divine energy into the eye, not unlike a blast of flame.

The flame burst the creature's remaining eye, as if it could cry any louder. The following attempt to back off met resistance from the clamp of sharp claws around Anshumat's waist, sudden and unyielding. The creature slammed Anshumat to the ground pinning them with only their torch-grasping hand free. The dagger-tooth maw opened again.

Anshumat projected out a loud blast of energy to disorient the now-blinded beast. It lifted its claws just enough for Anshumat to slide out by their silks, all the way up to the end of their foot when the claw clamped down again and two of the beast's front teeth hooked into Anshumat's leg.

They were able to twist free before any danger of being bit fully. Whatever shock of the moment kept the blood flowing out of the punctures from being the source of incredible pain that they should have been.

There was no time for thought. Anshumat placed their distraction. Projecting out orbs of energy, the demigod launched them in all directions. The orbs that struck the ground or stone, or went far enough, exploded harmlessly with nothing more than an ear-splitting bang. The beast's attention was drawn all around in a panicked, noisy flurry.

For good measure, and in the hopes to deafen the beast, Anshumat launched two directly into the creature’s ear canals. They burst and the creature roared in pure anger. Claws and gnashing teeth flew out wildly in Anshumat's direction.

But they found only thin air, dirt, and stone.

Then Anshumat made for the shore.

They could sense the creature following, but slowly this time and along the ground. Probably following the trail of blood Anshumat left behind them. It was no matter when they limped to the water, softly smoking torch still in hand.

---

Golden ichor flowed freely from Anshumat’s leg wound as they began their swim back to the shore of the mainland. It stained the water unnaturally, a streak of shimmering gold providing evidence of their route. As Anshumat silently progressed through the cold waves, the wound coagulated and the stream of ichor petered out.

Anshumat emerged from the surf, solemnly looking at Gralph as they held out the snuffed torch. The broad selka warrior stood with his arms crossed, looking straight at Anshumat with a frown that was hard to read. His essence was a bright one, and as such it was his silence that allowed Anshumat to hear the whispering voices from the shelter of the trees behind Gralph.

They were all looking at them. Every selka in the tribe and all the guest k'nights -- who, as a note of detail, were covered in dark body paint and carrying large wooden masks and stilts under their arms.

Gralph marched forward in broad strides down the sand, big arms waving forward and back. He stopped where the sand laid flat and wet, and took the torch carefully from Anshumat's grasp.

"Whatever Sheng did to you, kid, you didn't deserve it." Gralph's low voice held no trace of his previous jovial nature. He glanced down at the torn silks and the wound Anshumat was starting to feel. "Are you okay?" Gralph asked.

“It managed to strike me in its flailing, but it did not manage to maintain its grip. It is a scratch in comparison to my previous wounds,” Anshumat said quietly, raking their blind gaze across the treeline as they stretched out their hands to relieve the tension of their muscles.

The water lapped at their feet.

Gralph's nostrils flared with an audible breath in. "Well, you succeeded. Dealt out a lot more than you took as well. Stixis'll take a while to heal, if he ever heals from it." The rest of the breath blew out. "You and the other two kids, you'll get your clubs tomorrow. That's when your training starts. But I'll give you one lesson now to make certain you know what you're in for." He raised a finger, pointing up between Anshumat's eye sockets. "It ain't just gods that can kill you. Remember that, and maybe you won't come back to me leaking like a shot bird."

Gralph slowly lowered his finger, and with it, the trail of faint golden light in the water snaked its way up to the shore as pure ichor. Anshumat did not turn to look. It flowed in a stream dripping upwards and arced into a pool in Gralph's palm. When the last drop was gathered, the shining ichor hardened into a rough stone of dull yellow.

Anshumat's mouth opened slightly and they huffed out a breath. The demigod simply continued to watch the bright, blurry essence of Gralph.

Finally, a smile grew on Gralph's face again. "Do you feel like telling the tribe a story? They're all wondering what happened on that island."

Anshumat once again looked up at the tree line, saying, “What would I tell them? So much of what just happened was entirely against the rules of a natural world. Any tale I could weave would not begin to explain the sights they glimpsed.”

"Then just tell them the truth," Gralph replied, stepping across to let Anshumat through. All the faces in the trees still stared down at them both. "It's not so unreal that they wouldn't believe you. All the other folks who gave the trial a shot experienced something just as crazy."

Anshumat huffed again, beginning to walk past Gralph as they announced to the crowd, “Let me rest. I will tell you later what I faced on that island.”

A few selka vocalised their disappointment, but the general consensus was respectful of Anshumat's request.

Anshumat strode across the beach and into the treeline, as they headed back towards the village. The selka parted for the tall being as they turned around as well. While many gave the demigod curious looks, only two walked abreast with them. A tired looking Wass and an awake looking Toraph, with his silk hood tied around his neck.

"Well done, Anshumat!" Toraph said.

Wass pat the demigod hesitantly on the sleeve. "Yeah, well done."

“Thank you,” Anshumat said quietly, continuing to stride towards the village. As the demigod caught sight of the village, they looked at Toraph and Wass in turn, before breaking off to find a secluded spot.

Wass and Toraph took the message to leave them alone. Toraph quickly smiled up to Wass. "I should show you those seeds, bro. One of them sprouted out of the ground today."

Off to the side, Anshumat sat down behind a collection of drying racks, though they did not fall asleep.

Nothing to see here yet, folks

---

When Ya-Shuur first walked among the vall of central Be'r-Jaz they were not very impressed. They were a race familiar with the full glory of true gods, and this long-haired hillman with a beard that was far too big and bushy, and who smelled like he had never bathed (which was true!), was just not what they had expected the great god known as Be'r-Jaz to look like. With his gnarled herding stick and ancient poncho, which were downright primitive compared to their proper hide clothing and armor as well as their perfectly straight spears, the demigod seemed like a stunted vall whose teeth had never grown enough to become sharp and whose ears were awkward and unshapely and who had... goat horns on his head?

They looked at Daethyrd and the others who had told them about the god, and even they were a bit lost for words. When they had first seen the god he had seemed far more fearsome and awe-inspiring. Daethyrd, being rebellious and stubborn, refused to acknowledge that he might have made a mistake and glorified Ya-Shuur intensely. This surprised Ya-Shuur since he had been very reluctant to do so before. The demigod guessed that it had something to do with sticking to his guns.

In any case, these vall had heard the teachings that Daethyrd and his hunting pack had brought back with them and they were of those who counted themselves as worshippers of the Land, so they practised kindness and sought to honor all creatures. And so they gave Ya-Shuur the benefit of the doubt.

Now Ya-Shuur taught them how to harness the power of the natural world so that both nature and vallkind benefitted. He taught them how to herd goats and how to use certain big-beaked fishing birds (like the cormorant) to fish instead of the tiring and violent spearfishing technique they had been taught. He brought them a number of cats, and these preyed on creatures that harmed the valls' foodstocks and homes and generally kept their encampment cleaner. He also brought them a number of molves and showed them how they could aid them in goat herding as well as in hunting.
Ya-Shuur showed them that the molves, being huge, were also good mounts on both land and air (since they could fly). In addition to all this, the presence of molves in the encampment provided exceptional protection against both dangerous animals or hostile valls. While the molves were superherders and vastly outmatched the experimental herding wolf Ya-Shuur had tamed before, the herding wolf was still of use and so he presented it to the vall too. As Ya-Shuur had also domesticated cows and these were a great source of meat, he gifted a number to the vall and showed them how to care for them.

In addition to this, Ya-Shuur showed them how to milk goats and how to create the fermented goatmilk drink called gim-sa, and he showed them how to sweeten it with butterwort honey to create butterwort gim-sa, or how to sweeten it with redgrass to create redgrass gim-sa. He did not show them how to make the sudi-shrib however as that was special to his heart and he had committed to only ever present it to those who were his guests, as his way of honoring them.

Despite all these things that he taught the vall of central Be'r-Jaz in the time that he walked among them, there was one vall who was unsatisfied. The rowdy Daethyrd followed Ya-Shuur around as he travelled from camp to camp, giving gifts and teaching. "I am not an animaller!" He would declare, "I am a fighter. A hunter!" Despite this, it had not stopped him from taking on a molf. "I am a fighter!" He snapped angrily when Ya-Shuur pressed him about this, "this molf is like a spear or a sling, but better. I would be a lousy warrior if I did not make ue of good weapons." Ya-Shuur told him that animals were not objects, and the vall said he'd think about that. Then he continued complaining.

After some time of hearing the vall's complaints, Ya-Shuur finally turned to him. "What is it that you seek, Daethyrd?" He questioned. The vall looked at the great horned god with a deep frown.
"I..." he seemed to remember something and his features hardened. "I want glory. I want all those white-haired rotters to speak my name in awe, knowing that, in all their purity, they could never match up to me." Ya-Shuur looked at him and then nodded.
"Do you remember that great beast that so terrified you when you came to hunt me?" He asked, and the vall nodded. "Go and find it. Gain its back. You will have glory." Daethyrd gulped at Ya-Shuur's words, his eyes wide, and Ya-Shuur noticed. "Don't think glory is a sweet fruit that you can pick and eat. Glory is only for those who endure hardship and feast on patience." At these words the fear seemed to leave Daethyrd's eyes and it was replaced by determination.

"I will attain it." He said simply, and departed. Ya-Shuur turned and continued his walking, and when he spoke he told people of the great glory to be had from finding and mastering the great beast Zer-Du...

Riding his molf (who Ya-Shuur had named Gul-Tir because Daethyrd kept calling him "molf"), the vall made for the place he had last seen the great beast: the Cave of Light. Since many valls had been making the journey to and from the cave a number of paths had formed and Daethyrd followed one of these. The rain was incessant, but unlike before when Daethyrd would have had to beware dangerous animals like bears or wolves, the journey was now relatively dull since Gul-Tir was enough to ward off any threats.
Gul-Tir could have hunted for him too, but Daethyrd was a warrior and a hunter and he took pride in eating only what he caught. He was no animaller! He would never herd goats or raise cows, or use birds to fish! With his spear in his grip and his sling at his hip he killed and he ate. And when he grew thirsty he did not need to lap at goatmilk! The streams and rivers of the world were all his, and he needed nothing beyond them.

They crossed worshippers heading towards the Cave every now and then, but after a number of days they had arrived and Daethyrd got to scouting the area and searching for any marks left by the great beast. Near the cave mouth there were clear marks from where it had leapt and crashed into the earth before them, and just above there were claw marks in the rock. He touched the marks and sniffed at them, but the rain had washed away any smell and he cursed quietly. He noticed that Gul-Tir was staring at him curiously, but he ignored him as he made his way up the rock and sniffed at the claw marks. There was nothing here either.

Descending, he found that Gul-Tir was now sniffing at where the beast had left the great marks in the ground, and after a few moments it raised its head, barked, and wagged its long, dangerous tail. Daethyrd raised an eyebrow, wondering what this meant. The molf turned away from him and barked again, then took a few steps away. Daethyrd's eyes widened and he realized that it was about to leap off. It had caught the scent! Quickly he jumped onto its back and the molf was off! Daethyrd grinned to himself and patted the molf. "Some spear..."

• Summary [+]

  Ya-Shuur walks among the vall of central Be'r-Jaz and teaches them how to make use of various animals, from herding to fishing. He also teaches them how to make gim-sa.
  The vall who tried to hunt Ya-Shuur previously, Daethyrd, complains that what Ya-Shuur is teaching isn't for him and that he is a warrior after glory. Ya-Shuur sets a quest for him so that he can attain glory: he must hunt down Zer-Du and make him into his own steed. Daethyrd sets off on the quest! He goes to the Cave of Light and looks around, but find no scent. Then his new steed, a molf called Gul-Tir, catches the scent and they head off!
  
  5/5 for Justice ✔
  5/5 for Animal Domestication ✔
  0/5 for Truth ✘
  0/5 for Retribution ✘
  0/5 for Law ✘
• Might Points and Free Points [+]

  Ya-Shuur has 7 Might points and 8 Free points
  
  5 Might points spent to gain the Animal Domestication portfolio.
  1 FP (reduced to 0 by Animal Domestication portfolio) to teach vall of central Be'r-Jaz how to herd goats
  1 FP (reduced to 0 by Animal Domestication portfolio) to teach vall of central Be'r-Jaz how to use certain big-beaked fishing birds (like the cormorant) to fish
  1 FP (reduced to 0 by Animal Domestication portfolio) to teach vall fo central Be'r-Jaz how to care for and benefit from cats
  1 FP (reduced to 0 by Animal Domestication portfolio) to teach vall fo central Be'r-Jaz how to care for molves and make use of them for herding or hunting or or for protection or as land and air mounts
  1 FP (reduced to 0 by Animal Domestication portfolio) to teach vall fo central Be'r-Jaz how to benefit from and care for the herding wolf
  1 FP (reduced to 0 by Animal Domestication portfolio) to teach vall fo central Be'r-Jaz how to care for and benefit from domesticated cows
  2 Might points to make Daethyrd into a hero
  
  Ya-Shuur has 0 Might points and 8 Free points.
• Prestige [+]

  Prestige Rules [+]

  
  
  • 1 Prestige for each post in which a Hero plays at least a minor role; this should still be more than just an offhanded mention or a few lines of dialogue. The role must advance the story in a notable way. ✔
  • 1 Prestige for a hero if they are the focus and the star of a post. ✔
  • 1 Prestige to each hero involved, if the post was collaborated between two or more people. ✘
  • 1 Prestige if the post follows a hero on a quest. ✔
  • 5+ Prestige if a Hero completes a quest they pursued over three or more posts. If the Quest is completed in two posts, this is halved and rounded down to the nearest whole number. ✘

  
  +3 Prestige to Daethyrd

The Goddess floated above the ground, the trees, the birds, even the clouds. Golden wings beating slowly she surveyed the vast expanse of creation below her. The wind blew, the rivers meandered, and for a moment she wished she could bear witness to the beauty before her without knowing its origins. For the rivers were carved, the wind crafted. Even the simplest life had been designed, constructed from scratch using the basest of components.

Her features contorted into an ugly frown and she remembered. It hadn’t always been this way. Once she had marvelled at what her fellows, and she herself, had wrought. Now though? Now she couldn’t help but see them in their works. Azura’s wind was wild and free, but even so it was easily moved by the world below. Hot sands and cool oceans directed it as much as it controlled itself. Shengshi’s rivers, for however beautiful they were, reflected the best and worst parts of their creator. They could be placid, accommodating, and in the span of a moment they could turn into a torrent that swept away all in its path.

Bitterly, Asceal recalled that the last things in Shengshi’s path were her children. He hadn’t hurt them, but from what she’d gleaned from their accounts the threat had been clear. She’d considered confronting the River Lord, forcing him to explain himself until she was satisfied that he hadn’t been ready to act on his threats, but what was the point?

Shengshi was like the rivers he created. His nature was both rage and calm. She could extract endless promises from him and have the same thing happen. He couldn’t help it, she realized. He was what he was, and that was something Asceal only barely understood. Reflecting on her encounters with her siblings she had realized that, on a fundamental level, she didn’t truly understand any of them.

It was a frustrating epiphany, and the one which had brought her here. Looking at the world and seeing something that, suddenly, had depths she wasn’t sure she wanted to explore. Nevertheless, here she was. Tired of frowning, and not truly feeling the emotion it conveyed, Asceal sighed and rubbed at her luminous eyes.

At least some parts of existence weren’t so complicated or frustrating. Her children were off exploring the world in their own way, and all were safe. Eline and Akam were exploring continents away from the perilous Dragons Foot, and Makab was accompanied by Kalmar. She was glad for them. Not glad enough to smile, though.

Her children’s happiness was their own. She would have to find hers as they found theirs. The issue was, from her vantage point, she wasn’t even sure where to look for it. At every turn there had been tragedy or discord. At every moment there had been a crises or the beginnings of one. It was only now, above it all, that she realized she wasn’t just tired of it all, she was miserable.

As if in reply came a welcome distraction. A faint voice in her head, much like others she’d heard before, but this one with an air of urgency.

”If... If anyone out there is listening. Please. It’s my brother, he’s dying and I just. Please, if anyone is listening, please help.”

She hadn’t bothered replying to prayers before. There had always been something greater happening, something that demanded her attention, but now? Asceal realized, for the first time since the very beginning, she had no obligations to fulfill or jobs to do. There was a mortal in pain, and she could help.

It wasn’t even a choice. With a thought she broke herself apart, scattering her essence until she flowed with the light that came from Heliopolis, until she was part of it. She collided with the planet, scattered, and then gathered herself. She moved ever onwards, for there was no option to remain still, and before any in the world could have uttered a reply to the mortals prayer she was around them.

She couldn’t stop, but she could let herself scatter. She could pull the uncounted pieces of herself back together and let them fall apart. On and on, until it seemed she was going nowhere at all. Of course, the Selka below her saw none of that. What the mortal did see was a glow around her and her brother.

On a desolate beach lay a bleeding Selka man, gored by whatever animal he’d been hunting in the waves. That he’d managed to drag himself to shore was a miracle in of itself, but what happened next was far beyond anything willpower and resolve were capable of.

The dying Selka’s wounds seemed to absorb the hazy glow in the air and without prompt began to pull themselves closed. Months of healing in the span of a second. The Selka man’s eyes widened as the searing pain he’d felt dissipated, and his sister began to weep at the sight.

The soft voice that seemed to come from all around them was far less shocking than what they’d both experienced, but it was still enough to cause them to jump. “He will live.”

A simple statement of fact, but one that should have been impossible. The female Selka hesitated, but managed to wipe away her tears and speak, “Who… Who’s there?”

“A Goddess,” a soft chuckle echoed around them and the voice went on, “One of a number. My name is Asceal. Might I ask for your names?”

“Ovmo,” The male Selka all but whispered, still feeling at his uninjured side in awe, “My name is Ovmo.”

His sister more articulate, “I’m Shufoyu. Th- thank you. I didn’t really believe anyone would come, I hoped maybe Kirron would hear but… I didn’t believe.”

The light began to concentrate before the Selka, and both watched wordlessly as over the span of a few minutes Asceal pulled herself back together. When she was done the luminous woman stood a head taller than either Selka, and with her wings towering far higher than that she struck what would have been an intimidating presence had she spoken so kindly to the pair. She knelt down and looked over Ovmo’s side, “I brought a magic into this world to help with things like this, but now that I think of it, I only ever taught Shengshi’s folk.” The Goddess sighed and murmured, “Another mistake.”

Shufoyu had been entranced by the Goddess’s true form, but the glowing deities words stirred something in her. Hesitantly she asked, “A magic to, what, heal? Even wounds like Ovmo’s? And it can be taught? Would… Would you teach me? Us?”

Asceal turned to face the younger Selka woman, and as she smiled her form seemed to glow brighter, “Of course. I should have done so as soon as I was able.” The Goddess paused for a moment and pursed her lips, silently regarding Shufoyu before speaking again, “But you’ll have to promise me something, Shufoyu.”

The weight of a bargain with one of Kirrons ilk made the Selka pale, but to her credit Shufoyu didn’t hesitate, “Me? What could I, no, what do I need to promise you?”

“Just this,” Asceal reached out and placed a warm hand on the Selka’s shoulders, “That you’ll teach others what you know.”

Shufoyu didn’t need to answer, Asceal had already seen the Selka’s reply forming in her head. Without warning or preamble knowledge flooded into Shufoyu and Ovmo’s minds. Visions of the Lustrous Garden above, of glowing pools of water, and of magic running through their blood bombarded them. It was over in a moment, but each Selka felt as if whatever had happened had changed them forever.

Both struggled for words, but Asceal spoke first, “You both have what you need. Remember your promise, Shufoyu.”

With that the Goddess was gone. In one flap of her wings she soared out of sight, leaving the Selka behind in a cloud of dust. The siblings looked to each other, awed. Shufoyu helped Ovmo to his feet and, still grappling with knowledge he’d been given, he simply said, “We have to go home. This is better than any catch we could bring.”

Shufoyu nodded, and the two set off along the coast carrying knowledge few others held. It would change everything for their tribe.

---

“Alright,” the snake sighed. “I suppose we should go pick up those… What did Laurien call them again?”

“Nebulites, Your Lordship,” He Bo replied helpfully.

“Ah, yes - the Nebulites. Have their rooms been prepared?”

“With impeccable attention to detail and comfort, Your Lordship.”

“Splendid,” the snake praised with a smile. The great vessel of Jiangzhou was currently cruising lethargically through the clouds due west. The ship had been primed and prepared for the coming day-long feast, and the army of servants zoomed back and forth with towels, bedsheets, food and drink. Everything was going to be perfect - nothing less could be expected.

However, an odd sensation suddenly prickled at the snake’s mind, and as he looked outside, he saw heavy, gray clouds on the horizon like dark wool. Behind them, a presence teased its position like the final cookie in the jar.

“Say, He Bo - what is in that direction?”

The master servant followed his finger and squinted at the clouds. “Cannot say, Your Lordship. The holy vessel Jiangzhou rarely sails these clouds.”

The snake hummed. “If we have sailed in the right direction, there should be an archipelago below us. Though this presence is… Awfully unlike the one I was expecting. We shall investigate.”

The ship dipped down under the thickest cloud cover, but it seemed to extent forever. Moisture clung to the cool wood and cloth onboard and the snake pursed his lips.

“He Bo, I think we may have taken a wrong turn somewhere.”

“It could be raining over the isles today, Your Lordship,” He Bo suggested. The snake shook his head.

“No, no, we are definitely somewhere other than where we intended to go.” He slithered out onto his veranda and stared ahead. He Bo followed swiftly after, even his controlled steps slipping on the wet floorboard. Before them a great island stretched towards the north, and above them fell raindrops upon raindrops in a ceaseless manner. The snake blinked and snapped his fingers.

“Oh, now I know what this presence is!”

He Bo opened a silk umbrella. “What is it, Your Lordship?”

“A goddess - one whose presence I have not sensed since the dawn of time. Oh, what a splendid opportunity! He Bo, have the servants deck the feast hall for two.”

“At once, Your Lordship,” the master servant answered dutifully and hurried inside. The snake scanned eagerly across the vast lands: the froth of waves at its coast, the thick growth of trees, and, his divine eyes observed, a particularly hot lake next to what looked to be a house.

“Ah, wonderful.”

---

Some time later, the impervious vessel had landed neatly on the boiling lake. The snake peered over the side of the deck, backed up by a few curious servant eyes, to see several barely clothes shapes on the shore, staring at the ship in both fear and awe. All in all, at least fifty of those shapes were present, with most being very young children and babies in the arms of females. More were arriving quickly, however.

One male, pale with white hair and grey eyes, pushed his way through the small crowd and took a stance, pointing his stone spear at the magnificent ship.

“You land in the Holy Lake of the Eagle Clan,” The male exclaimed with all he had, his voice barely reaching the ship, “You dare bring foreign materials into sacred lands without the permission of the True Queen-Mother, state your identities now, invaders!”

As he spoke, three more of his kin, these ones with black hair and brown eyes, joined him, one of them with a primitive bow and the other two with clubs.

“Ouch, what a greeting,” the snake muttered. “He Bo, fetch a meal for each of these as a peace offering.” The servant replied in his nasal, musical language and disappeared behind the top of the deck. The snake wrinkled his nose and turned to look down at the creatures below. In a bombastic move, he swung his arms open and boomed, “Lower your weapons, people of the Eagle Clan, for I, Shengshi, am not your foe! I come in nothing but peace, for the sake of peace, and with an invitation of peace. In but a moment, my intentions will be clear for you all to sample.”

He clapped his hands together once and smiled. “In the meantime, would you tell me a bit about yourselves? I do so love a mortal story or two.”

The male hesitated, but ended up relaxing. His kin followed suit, casting uncertain gazes at their leader. Just as he opened his mouth to continue speaking, a loud knocking echoed through the land. Heavy metal on thick wood, it came from the large front doors to the Pristine Manor on top of the cliff, overlooking the crude huts and workshops of the mortals.

Three times the knock was heard, and after three times the doors dragged open, the wood creaking and allowing light into the dark interior of the building. Behind the doors, the tall Goddess Li’Kalla, Goddess of Rain, stood proud. Her pure white wings were stretched at each side of her body, tips touching far above her head, outlining a sort of halo behind her head. It barely fitting through the frame of the entranceway. And so she walked out and the doors closed behind her, one last heavy knock reverberating through the bones of the mortals present.

Every primitive watched with tears in their eyes and happy smiles, the only one who remained watching the foreigners closely was the male leader.

The Goddess walked gracefully to the shores of her Boiling Lake and made herself float up to Shengshi’s level, without drawing too close to the Jiangzhou.

”I welcome you to my humble abode, and I introduce you to my Herd, the Valthumir and Vallamir who reside on this land… Shengshi, God of Rivers, am I correct?”

“Very much so!” the snake replied and bowed low. “It is an honour and a joy to be welcome. Forgive me for not contacting you ahead of my arrival - for a while I was a little uncertain as to who exactly was down here; I am glad to find that it was you, after all.” He tapped his chin. “This is the first time we have met since the dawn of time, is it not? Or did we even formally meet even then? My apologies, my recollections of the eons past are a little jumbled of late.”

”I say the same of my recollections. That is not important now, however. We shall treat it as our first meeting.” Li’Kalla said with a placid smile.

“So we shall! So, this Herd of yours…” As he spoke, a train of servants came out the palace gates behind him. As soon as they laid their eyes on Li’Kalla, they collectively put the covered plates they were carrying on the ground, turned to her with inclined heads and then proceeded to kowtow. Then, they thundered as one: “TEN THOUSAND YEARS TO LI’KALLA, GREAT MISTRESS OF THE RAIN!” The snake spun around and smiled proudly while Li’Kalla nodded at the servants in appreciation.

“... Fantastic, aren’t they? Right, so this Herd… It has a…” He sniffed the air and hummed. “... A certain scent about it - a four-way split of essence. Were they a collaborative project?”

”Ah,” Li’Kalla held back a sigh, ”They are a product of Arae, Roog, Kalmar and I. Unfortunately. Had I been the sole creator I would’ve been able to ensure all of them showed at least one Streak of Divinity… As it stands, I’ve separated the lesser ones from those worthy of leadership.”

“Ah! A hierarchy! Finally, something familiar,” the snake applauded. “A proper civilisation needs its castes. What would my servants be without it, I wonder?” The servants in question had made their way down from the ship on a watery staircase and proceeded to offer the Valthumir and Vallamir clay plates covered with lids to keep the rain out. From underneath the lids oozed mouth-watering fragrances, and seeing the look on the faces of her mortals, Li’Kalla made the rain stop and the clouds disperse.

When she turned to face Shengshi she was blushing slightly and frowning, ”I apologize, Shengshi, they have no tables to place the plates on. They shall kindly accept your offering and eat it in their huts, away from sight. It’s a very young civilization, I hope you understand.” As she finished, she quickly motioned a dismissal with her hand to Van’Kalla, the male leader who still watched the two Gods speak.

“Understood, Queen-Mother, at once.” Van’Kalla replied with a respectful nod of his head and turned around to begin shouting at his kin. each one took one plate they liked the scent of and disappeared into one of the few huts.

The Goddess watched the mortals go one by one until there were none left but the servants, and then she turned to Shengshi. ”Would you rather speak on neutral ground? Have your servants set up a temporary meeting spot some distance away from the Lake and we shall discuss things further there, I have need of your expertise in some matters.”

“Oh, is that so? How fantastically convenient. May I come with a proposal, though? While it may not be neutral perhaps, we have already stacked the table in my feast hall below deck high with snacks and drinks for just such an occasion - would that suffice?”

Li’Kalla pursed her lips, and then nodded, ”That will do.”

“Then,” the snake said with a bow, “if you would follow me, please.” He then spun calmly on his tail and slithered towards the palace gates, with Li’Kalla letting herself touch the ground and walking next to him.

”I couldn’t help but notice the efficiency at which your servants work and the plates they carried. Clay, correct?”

“Correct. It is of my own making, as with most of the items onboard. The servants have a complex and fascinating culture, and while they are slowly reverse-engineering much of the equipment they have been using over the centuries, there are certain processes that offer more obstacles than others, hence why the clay plates are not made by them.” The pair entered into the palace where the walls along the great corridor to the feast hall were lined with kowtowing servants, all of whom were shouting their humble, praising greetings with one voice. The snake continued, “They are nigh infinitely loyal and rigorously well-trained. There are none in this universe but the gods who can best them in service and servitude.”

Li’Kalla watched with some discomfort as the servants kept going out of their way to greet them, ”I see,” She said, ”Gods are not meant to serve others however, so they might as well be the best there is in that aspect for now.”

“I could not agree more,” the snake said with a smile. The pair descended a great staircase draped with crimson silk carpets and before them unfolded a room of gold and glory. Its walls carried splending paintings on colossal rice paper canvases; the roof was lit with red paper lanterns; nearly every surface and column wore a golden coat. In the background sang flutes and harps and in the centre of the hall stood a long table with a golden dragon throne at the far end and a beautifully bejeweled throne of wood upholstered with silken pillows on the left side of the far end.

When they arrived at the thrones, the snake took the liberty of pulling Li’Kalla’s throne out for her. “Please, have a seat.”

”Thank you,” Li’Kalla said furling up her wings and sitting down in one graceful movement. ”Beautiful decoration, was it all decided by you, Cardinal Courtesy?”

“Down to the last tablecloth,” the snake confirmed with a smile and sat himself on his golden dragon throne. “The feast hall is the jewel of my vessel - only perfection is acceptable. I would have nothing less for my guests.” A number of servants came over to the table and, with swift, courteous movements, they placed down warm clay plates for the both of them upon which sat rolled up, hot towels. The snake took his and rubbed it over his hands.

“Forgive me for jumping straight to the point, but I am so curious: What was it that you wanted to discuss?”

Li’Kalla imitated what Shengshi did, and she nodded, ”As you surely observed, the state of my civilization is rather… Unsatisfying. You saw how they greeted you. Their ignorance comes from a lack of knowledge and respect, so upon seeing your servants I wondered if you would be able to teach some basic etiquette to the Vallamir and Valthumir, and while at it I would be thankful to receive advice on how to ensure the loyalty and productivity of the lower castes.”

“Ah, so that which ails you is issues of the state,” the snake mused. “The request for basic etiquette can easily be solved if a few servants were left behind to educate them. Etiquette stems from respect, which can be achieved through fear or fame. Let us examine these two,” the snake stated. “If they respect you because of your might, they would never dare to rise up unless they thought that they could win - which they cannot. For a god, it is safe, reliable and simple.”

Servants came over to them with cups of light wine. The snake took a small sip from his and continued, “If they respect you because of your heroism or out of their love for you, they are likely to be loyal, as well. Working for a master one knows will care for you is a great motivator, so productivity is assured as well. However, mortals are ungrateful and easily corrupted by worldly riches. They may not love you forever for the gifts you grant to this generation. Therefore, my advice is to establish clear boundaries - offer them a stern rule set that tells them what will lead to wealth and riches, and what will lead to sanctions and punishment.”

Li’Kalla set down the hot towel, now soaking due to her rainwater, and brought her hand up to her mouth as she thought. After a moment, she nodded again, ”I see. Yes, I will create a concise ruleset. There is another matter...” Li’Kalla grabbed her cup and gave it a long sip, gasping quietly in surprise at the flavour, ”... Wine? And it’s exceptional.”

“Like it?” the snake smiled and chuckled. “This one is a pear wine, made from Atokhekwoian pears. It is very much a new favourite of mine. I will give you a pot if you like it that much. Oh, why not take two, to honour our friendship.”

”Heh, you take large strides, Shengshi.” Li’Kalla chuckled and kept sipping at her cup, ”We can do business later, I am very interested in your selection of wines. For now, the other matter I had in mind was requesting you share some technology with my Herd. I am willing to do business, should you wish to ask for anything in exchange.”

“Hooo?” The snake raised an eyebrow and put down his cup. He intertwined his fingers and placed his chin on top. “What technology did you have in mind?”

”You clearly have the ability to produce wines in large quantities, so that means you have access to agricultural techniques beyond most of those I’ve seen in this world. On top of that, you have access to sugar, an important ingredient in the making of wine, which is also an important ingredient in black powder. You see where I’m going with this, I expect.”

The snake’s eyebrows furrowed together and he wrinkled his nose. “I am sorry, but there may be a misunderstanding here. While I do have expansive knowledge of agriculture and brewing, I personally do not use any extra sugar in the brewing process - not even to carbonate the drinks. Certainly, I can plant for your mortals fields of sugar beets or sugar cane, but I believe you know as well as I that for mortal hands to extract refined sugar from these plants, they require technology that they simply are not ready for.”

”That is no matter, if you can teach my mortals these techniques and technologies, I’d be happy to sponsor any project of your choosing in exchange.”

The snake raised a palm. “I will gladly teach them to work the soil and harvest its produce, and I will teach them to make the tools that will bring in the season’s bounty and where to store it. However, until they at the very least grasp concepts like pottery, furnaces and metalcraft, I feel teaching them sugar extraction is wasted knowledge.”

”That is a fair point. They should be ready for that knowledge soon, however. After agriculture is established, the Valthumir will begin to truly shine. Without having to spend so much time foraging and hunting for food, most of them will be able to focus on scientific pursuits... We may yet be able to turn these savages into proper civilized individuals.”
“A worthy mission. Few goals in this world are greater than the search of prosperity for one’s people. However, I feel a need to stress my earlier point about respect. The mortals respecting you will be simple - however, the mortals respecting one another necessitates that one of them, preferably the leader you have chosen, has a considerable force behind them. How skilled are your people in combat? Will there be a state policing force?”

Li’Kalla finished her cup of wine and set it down on the table, ”Not very skilled. We lack the numbers or stable food source to establish an army. I do know of one Valthumir that shows real potential for warfare, however. He is on a quest at the moment, below ground where the shadows reside.”

“What was that? Below ground where the shadows reside?”

Li’Kalla raised her eyebrows in surprise and leaned back in disbelief, ”... I expected a God with a taste for stories to know this, somehow. I suppose no one visits these lands too much. There are hideous, dangerous beings under our feet right now. Forgotten creations by a Forgotten deity… They seek only to sow destruction and pain and death, and they guard the underground where all the significant sources metals and combustible resources are.”

“How absolutely barbaric - to make life for the sake of destroying other life for nothing but sport.” The snake grimaced and waved the foul thought away. “And here I thought the pinnacle senseless destruction was that bloody flame-bearded dog. To furthermore stand in the way of your people’s future prosperity, too. Horrible - simply horrible.”

”it is good practice,” Li’Kalla sighed, ”I can’t shake this feeling that something horrible lies in wait for us over the horizon, so this is more of a blessing in disguise… It will serve to toughen up the Valthumir. Especially because not even I know how deep the underground goes, or what creatures are down there.”

“... I certainly hope that I will remain merely a blessing in disguise, then… Still…” He waved over a servant who placed a plate of small appetisers on the table: various bits of fish, biscuits and rice balls. “... You will not have to worry about an army. Once they have been taught to work the soil, they will not hunger for many, many years.”

”Indeed,” Li’Kalla tapped the rim of her empty wine cup then looked straight at Shengshi, ”Back to business, I would be interested in obtaining seeds for several different crops, including grapes and these pears you mentioned. Oh, and lastly, would you mind taking me to your cellar? I would like to taste your different wines. If they’re tradeable, I’d like to get as many of the ones I find agreeable as possible.”

“They are both tradeable and giftable, my dear - I am inclined to offer the wine to you as the latter in addition to the gift of seeds, tools and knowledge. The wine shall serve as my letter of friendship and siblinghood to you - the rest can be traded for a favour which I may call upon at a later date. Does this sound fair?”

Li’Kalla smiled and nodded, raising her cup up in the air, ”It sounds fair. Now, take a girl to you cellar, will you?”

“Of course,” the snake said with a smile and rose, slithering over to Li’Kalla’s throne to offer her a hand which she gladly took. “Please, follow me.” And so the two walked to the far back of the feast hall, towards the ship’s stern. There awaited them a colossal metal gate sealed with chains and locks. The snake snapped his right fingers and the pair watched as the locks opened themselves and pulled away from the door like retreating serpents.

“A safety measure to keep out any curious mortals. I had three once who spent their entire days emptying my cellar. Never again.” Li’Kalla responded with a chuckle.

The doors slowly swung open and an aged, sour smell fell out like a cloud of dust. It was dark inside, and in the red light shining in through the doorway, one could see fifty litre clay pots stacked in mountains around the room, surrounding research benches and boiling basins. In the centre of the room was an enormous metal contraption, adorned with brass stills and pipes. A vent of steam escaped it with a loud whistle.

“Pardon the mess, my dear - I so rarely bring guests here these days. Not that I do not wish to show it off, oh no, it is merely because so few request it.”

Li’Kalla shook her head and waved her hand nonchalantly, ”No complaints here, I prefer it when workshops are well-used and slightly messy, myself. It shows the one in charge is diligent.” She spoke as she walked around the vast room, taking in all the various tools, rolled up parchments and most importantly, the metal contraption. ”This is the first contraption I see in this world that comes close to a machine. It’s beautiful, really! Pray tell, does it require manpower or is it automated?”

“This is the Distillery. While the fires must be kept alive by mortal hand, it boils the wine and collects the vapours on its own, concentrating them to create liquor. It is a stronger sort of wine, if you will - specifically made to be consumed in small doses at a time over the course of a long night.”

”Oh, I see, impressive nonetheless,” Li’Kalla took in the sight and then looked over at one of the research benches, ”I’m sorry, I’m unfortunately not too well versed in the different kinds of alcohol that can be consumed, so all I can talk about is my admiration for machines and research. I’m a bit of a bore, really.”

“No, no, you are certainly no bore, dear!” Shengshi supported. “Machinery and industry are two fascinations of my own, too, so I could gladly talk about them for ages. How about we talk some over a cup of… Uhm, let us see…” The snake ran his fingers over a number of labels. “How about a mango liqueur? It is a little thicker and sweeter than the one we had for lunch.”

”Hmm...” Li’Kalla brought a hand up to her cheek as she thought, ”Why not? Let’s try a few different ones as well, this is a great opportunity to experience something new!” She said with a smile on her face.

The snake smiled and took off the lid. He took a wooden ladle and poured some of the thick, orange fluid into two cups. He offered one to Li’Kalla and gave his own a whiff. “Ah... Such a sweet scent… Tell me, what sort of crops would you like your civilisation to live off of? With these rains, I reckon rice and various vegetables can thrive.”

Li’Kalla brought her cup up to her nose and took a whiff as well, then tried the concoction. She made a face and coughed, then perked up. ”Ah yes, business. Rice is a great idea and I was thinking of adding corn and a good selection of fibrous vegetables. I do not mind which vegetables, as long as they’re fairly nutritious to ensure the long term health of the genetic stock. What do you think?”

“Rice and corn will serve as the main source of carbohydrates, then - vitamins and fiber will be covered by asparagus, cabbage, carrots and okra. Cucumbers as well, I think. Few of these will suffer too much from monsoons and rain seasons, and they offer many different flavours, textures and nutrients for your mortals to enjoy. As for proteins, I can offer various beans and legumes, though I still recommend either fish or meat for the warriors and labourers.”

”Yes, I expect most of their protein and fat intake to come from animal sources, excluding milk of course. Milk is… Disgusting, to say the least. We can supply them with two types of beans however. What’s your opinion on black beans and green lentils? The former is amazing with some salt, in my opinion.”

“You do not like milk?” the snake asked with a surprised look. “Well, suppose we will be skipping the fermented elephant milk, then…” He cleared his throat as Li’Kalla barely held back a gag. “Black beans and green lentils are satisfactory, though lentils in particular are very vulnerable to floods. May I suggest cowpeas instead? They are a little more comfortable with humidity.”

”Sure, sounds great. In due time we’ll be able to cultivate whatever we desire with just a little help from hydro, aqua and aeroponics however, so all of this might change in the future. Who knows, it might even be sooner than expected! Oh,” Li’Kalla gasped and shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself for a moment, ”I get all shivery thinking of the future, sorry!” She giggled and took a long sip of her drink.

“Oh, nothing to apologise for,” the snake chuckled. “Excitement about the future is something we all should feel! The future is prosperous, harmonious! A promise of peace, stability and joy for all life in this universe.” He knocked his cup gently against hers and flashed her a grin. “Starting with ensuring every mortal goes to sleep with a full belly.”

”Yeah! That’s a prosperous future, indeed! And let’s make sure my Faithful get to taste these sweet drinks as well! They will be a hit, I can imagine all the fun that’s going to be had in reunions and meetings between friends already.”

“Naturally, my dear! The wine shall flow through the camp of the Eagle clan like rain water over their soon-to-be-sown fields of food. Now…” He finished his cup. “Allow me to show you this one… It is an experimental blend…”

---

”... Aaaand daswhy, Sssheng… Daswhy you can’t mIX WHITE HAIR WITH COLOURED HAIR! Yuknoo… Sgood am here... Nooobodyhasshpreparedathing! I hav’ t...” Li’Kalla let her blushing face drop against the soft surface of the table she found herself to be sitting at and after a moment, ruffled up her own hair and looked up at Shengshi with a flushed, placid grin, ”... I liiiike, likelike youur PRODUCTS, Ho… Li… Ness~”

The snake shuffled uncomfortably in his throne. “I suppose my tolerance may be a little more robust.” A sharp burp escaped him and he covered his mouth. “Oof, pardon me. Li’Kalla, my dear, would you like one last sample before we return upstairs?”

Li’Kalla barely nodded and pushed her cup toward him. ”yuush…!”

The snake poured her a half-full cup of something purple. “For our final taste test, my dear, we have a very, very, -very- mild grape wine. I reckon it would serve you well to drink it and then gulp down some water so as to not appear…” He tapped his chin. “... Inebriated before your subjects.”

”W-Wuh- Am not!” Li’Kalla exclaimed, jerking upright and looking straight at the empty air next to Shengshi, she went to grab her cup and missed, then tried again and downed the cup in one go, letting herself slink back onto the table. ”... Maybeh a lil beet… Am in troublee… Haeelp meh...” Li’Kalla moaned, tearing up.

”I... cant go out like dish… Waddidyoudotoomeee...”

“Would you like to take a nap, dear?” the snake sighed and patted her comfortingly on her shoulder. “It usually helps.”

”... Ok, yesh.”

---

A few hours later...

Li’Kalla had been moved to a large bedroom with white walls painted with blue and green images of river valleys in the rain. Outside the skies were still gray, and it was quickly evident that the day was still the same as it had been before the wine tasting had begun. Beside the queen-sized, silk-sheeted bed was a small bed stand topped with a tall glass of water and an even tallen pitcher of the same. Between the two was a note.

With a groan and a stretch, Li’Kalla opened her eyes and sat up. She was feeling light as a feather and as beautiful as ever, and the sight of the gray skies invigorated her. By the Architect, did she love rain! Immediately she grabbed the tall glass of water that had been left on the bed stand and drank its contents. ”Hyyaaaa! That water’s good! How is Shengshi so good at picking out the taste for liquids? Maybe that comes with the title of River God… Hey… I am the Rain Goddess, I should be able to make great water as well.” Li’Kalla thought out loud, then shrugged, tilted her head back and opened her mouth, dangling her index finger over her mouth before thinking twice about it and shaking her head.

Instead she picked up the glass she’d just drank from, gave it a quick wash with her control over water and made sure it was dry before sticking the tip of her finger into it and letting a steady stream of clear, cool water fill it up. She took a sip of that water.

”Bleh. Could use some work...” She set the glass back down on the bedside table and got off the bed. She walked to the dresser and looked into the mirror, fixing her disheveled appearance with a mere thought and finishing with hand-grooming her wings. Why was that the one thing she did by hand? Because it felt good.

After a while, she looked through the drawers and the dozen wardrobes and found what she had wanted for so long -- Footwear. A pair of lace-up sandals made of leather. They weren’t a perfect match for her dress, but they were good enough, considering the dress covered up most of the leather strips reaching all the way to her knees anyway.

She also got herself a piece of parchment and a brush, and with impeccable control of her arm, wrote a divine message into the surface. They were beautifully crafted, the sigils, and each of them carried parts of a concise message.

There was no hurry, of course, but it was important for a God to be as efficient as possible. Therefore, as soon as she was finished with her small masterpiece of a letter, she rolled it up, tied a string around it and opened the door to her temporary chambers.

The Sandy Servant posted outside her door tensed up briefly, but otherwise kept her composure as she turned slightly and bowed deeply, never making any eye contact with the Goddess.

“M-”

”My apologies for cutting you short, but I have a task for you, female.” Li’Kalla said with a polite smile, handing the servant woman the rolled up parchment. ”Take this to Shengshi at once. Thank you.” And just as quickly, the Goddess had closed the door again, leaving the Servant alone.

---

‘Steemed Shengshi,

Your stock of spirits is incredibly high-quality, as expected of a fellow God. I write this brief letter to you to highlight a few concerns of mine. First, nothing improper happened earlier on, and I never got to any stage of inebriation; and second, I am ready to bestow the gifts mentioned before onto my Herd. How should we proceed in order to strengthen both our positions? I would wish for this event to strengthen yours as well, within reason.

Li’Kalla Lithokelles.’

---

A few moments later, a knock came on Li’Kalla’s door.

“Li’Kalla? It is me, your brother,” came a muffled voice.

There was a moment’s worth of silence, and then the door opened. Li’Kalla herself was standing a few paces back, with her hands clasped in front of herself.

”Brother is a strong word, I believe. We are not related by blood, are we? Though it is true we are both Gods. I suppose it’s more of a gray area. Come in, please.” Li’Kalla smiled and nodded.

“Oh, forgive me if the terms makes you uncomfortable, my dear,” the snake said as he entered. “It has stuck with me somewhat since the first time I met Arae at the dawn of time. It personally brings me quite a bit of joy to see the gods as my siblings--” He frowned a little. “... Even the less civilised lot.”

”Such as Kalmar and Roog?” Li’Kalla asked suddenly, tilting her head innocently.

“Roog? Now that is name I am… Unfamiliar with, to say the least. Is it godspawn?”

”Indeed. It takes the form of an animal made of fire. Spawned between two male gods, as well. It’s a… Disappointing situation.”

“The personality, or the being’s conception?” the snake asked with a confused frown and a scratch of his temple.

”Both.”

The snake cleared his throat sheepishly. "My apologies, dear sister, I, uhm, I do not quite follow. The creature is rude, that I can see as problematic, but why is its male parentage an issue?”

Li’Kalla raised an eyebrow, ”Procreation should only be done between a male and a female, to set a healthy example for our creations. We want them to build new generations for us, right? If everyone turns deviant, their very continuity would be threatened. As a God, it is our duty to be the best of the best.”

The snake’s brow fell low. “For your information, dear, there are several mortals upon this good world that do not require two individuals of different sexes to reproduce. My Servants are among them, and if I am not mistaken, them numbering over ten thousand makes them the most numerous group of mortals in this universe.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Besides, in addition to this Roog, my son Anu was conceived with the blood of Narzhak and I - both, I assume, have a male form and consider ourselves to be male. I will not bat an eye if you wish this to be the view of your mortals, dear, but please do not equate all mortals to one another, nor mortals to the gods.”

Li’Kalla’s expression darkened, ”Let me ask you this, Shengshi… Why do you and Narzhak identify as males? By adopting that identity, you take upon your shoulders the laws of nature that keep sexually reproducing entities in line. What good is a male that seeks to copulate with another male? The Goddess rubbed her temple and sighed, “And you referring to the product of your interaction with another male as a ‘son’, just further confirms your actions as the product of rampant deviancy. A true son is brought to the world by a mother and father through sexual intercourse, anything else is either a creation or a deviation and must be purified.”

The snake recoiled as if he had been shot. He placed a palm on his chest and sucked in a breath through the nose, a scowl overtaking his visage. “There is no law of nature that says sexual reproduction is the only way - the only law of the universe is that there will be life, and there will be death. Anu is my son - that fact is as true as my very existence - regardless of whether he had been made with another male, female or something else. Mortals will reproduce regardless of whether homosexuality is normal, dear, and to enforce such a view upon all of mortalkind is to deprive them of a staggering joy.”

”Homosexuality is a joy? No. It is a perversion. See, why have two sexes when everyone can procreate with everyone else? There is no practicality to that, you might as well have created all mortals as hermaphrodites or completely sexless beings. It is disappointing to see Gods defend perversion and deviancy so freely, truly. In fact,” Li’Kalla smirked mockingly, ”We have no need for deviants here. A God that chooses his form to be half an animal’s and half a man’s? I should have realized you were worse than Kalmar or the dog. Shengshi, you may take your leave whenever you’re ready. Please do forget any business we spoke of, and keep your spirits. I wouldn’t want any of my followers doing things they’ll regret while inebriated.”

Li’Kalla then frowned, flicked her hair and walked past Shengshi, letting her slightly unfurled wings bump his shoulder on her way out.

”I know my way out, I shall not bother you on that.”

As the goddess left the room, the snake stood there speechless, opening and closing his mouth. His pupils were less than slits, near utterly empty. A quiet droning escaped him, one that slowly turned into quickened, furious breaths.

“... The nerve…” He closed his fist and sent it straight into the mirror in the room, reducing it to dust. He let out a livid scream at the top of his lungs and eyed himself up and down. “Half man and half animal?! DEVIANT?! Worse than-...” He reduced the wardrobe to sawdust. “I invite her into my home; I offer her my services…” His finned spine turned to a row of quills; his claws extended; his teeth lengthened into fangs. “THE NERVE!”

The snake stormed out the door, blasting it off its hinges, over the rails of the veranda walkway and into the depths of the belly of the ship. The echo silenced the whole vessel, and it did not take long before a train of nervous Servants trailed the snake with their heads bowing. At the head of the group marched a sweating He Bo, his watery eyes quivering with fear.

“Y-your Lordship, what is the matter?!”

“We are leaving this instant,” the snake spat back. “See to it that none of the gifts reserved for the Valthumir make it off the ship.”

“Y-yes, Your Lordship!” The master servant began to bark orders left and right. In the hallways, wine pots were sent back to the cellar; grain and seeds were thrown into the hearths; tools were left to collect dusts in their storages.

The snake climbed up onto the deck. There, he saw the goddess enter the mansion again, acting as if his ship was nothing but an insect flying by. The ship had begun to sail away by now. The snake grit his fangs and hammered at the ship railings with such force that the elementally-impervious planks began to shatter. Slowly, the rage manifested itself through a glare that could set fire to water.

“... So… We are supposed to set examples, are we?” he droned menacingly. “... And you want your little Valthumir not to do things they will regret…” He rubbed a claw against the wooden railing. “What a poor, poor example you make, my dear.”

The snake raised his hands into the air. A black sludge formed between his fingers and began to drip down into the soil far below.

“From this day forth, no soil upon this island will ever sprout a single grain, a single fruit, a single vegetable. As this bile runs black as night, so in kind shall every harvest yield nothing but filth and rot. Neither wild nor domestic trees will spawn anything but putrid slime; any sown grain will be as salt to the soil. From this day until the end of time, this island will be a pool of rot and decay.”

The ship disappeared behind the clouds before Shengshi could move on to a curse on the rivers, as well. Down below, the effect was immediate: All around Li’Kalla’s island, wild fruit, grain, vegetables, legumes - any edible yields of plants - all began to rot away in minutes. The stink was staggering.

Li’Kalla’s island, was sentenced to death.

Wenbo had not quite grown used to the view from the clouds - how could he ever? For his whole life, in the same way as every other Dreamer with the exception of Mom, his feet had been planted in good, solid earth with every step and only his mind had even considered the dream of flight. Yet here he was alongside his whole family - aflight aboard a divine ship. Below him came first a sea of white, covering the bedrock of deep blue far, far beneath like a patchy lid. Tendlepog had long since disappeared behind them - tears had been shed in litres across the faces of his clan upon seeing it vanish beyond the horizon. At night, however, they were forever reminded of its existence as they looked up. A somber smile slowly stretched across Wenbo’s face as he loosely fingered the medallion around his neck.

“... The twins will never die… But be united in the afterlife for eternity…” He snickered to himself and felt moisture slide down over his right cheek. He dipped two fingers into the corner of his eye and sniffed.

“What’re you thinking about, dear?”

Wenbo swiftly ran his sleeve over his eyes for a few wipes and turned to face the equally somber half-smile of his wife. Before he could answer, she cupped his cheek in her hand and dabbed away the few remaining tears with the sleeve of her opposite hand. “Was it Chagatai again?”

Wenbo nodded. “All of them, actually, but yes, mainly him.” He gave a heavy-hearted chuckle. “It’s ironic, isn’t it? I who campaigned for us to remain spend my days longing for those that passed on.”

Ai placed a hand over his heart and laid her head against his shoulder. Wenbo caressed the back of white-haired head. “Maybe it is, but it’s not unexpected. You have a big heart, Wen-Wen - one that doesn’t simply break all ties just because it’s worlds apart from its dearest friend.” Wenbo sniffed again and cleared his throat. Ai sighed soothingly and pecked him on his cheek. “It will never pass, dear, but--... Well… We set out to make the most of life here while we still remain. Then, once our end approaches, it’ll be as God said - we will see them again.”

“... Yeah.”

The mighty thunder of the great tower gong shattered the mood and sent both Dreamers diving to shield one another. A faint shout followed the gong, followed by a slightly more audible shout, followed by--

“LAAAAAAND HOOO!” came the booming voice of a Servant on deck. Wenbo and Ai blinked at one another and scrambled to their feet. There, far, far beyond the clouds, nearly to the point that mortals eyes were insufficient, stripes of green, yellow and gray stood out between the blue and white sheets. Soon, the rest of the Dreamers had gathered at the bow and were marvelling at the approaching land far below.
Eyebrows were raised, however, as the ship didn’t seem to lose altitude. A few mumbles and questions began to bubble up between the Dreamers. Wenbo walked over to a nearby Servant and asked, “Pardon, master Servant - why aren’t we landing?”

The Servant struggled to hide its discomfort at being called ‘master’ and bowed as low as it could without tipping. “Forgive this one for not being clear earlier, my lord - this is not Jiangzhou’s destination. The Lordship’s land lies beyond this continent.”

“W-well, what’s this place, then?” Wenbo asked and peeked back over the side. Below them were endless green speckled with gray stone tops in between. A particular patch of green looked somewhat uncanny, even from the sky.

“This patch of land is known as the Kick, my lord,” the Servant replied dutifully.

“The Kick,” Wenbo repeated with a rub of his chin. He continued staring down at the unfortunately uneventful woods. His family, too, sat staring at the mesmerising view of something so docile, yet so foreign. With the exception of young Song, no Dreamer did anything but stare down at the endless sea of trees.

Then, as if there suddenly had sprouted a white wall before them, the ship crashed through a thick, warm mass of clouds. Hot, heavy rain whipped against their bodies like a steamy shower. A few reveled in the standing hot bath they were receiving, dancing around in circles on deck; others dove for cover behind and under anything they could find. Wenbo hid behind the dragon’s head at the bow, much to the entertainment of Ai, who stood smirking at him all the while. The occasional lightning bolt crackled between the violent clouds, scaring the rest to jump for cover as well.

A Servant came over to the huddling Ai and Wenbo with a smile and said, “Please do not worry, my lord and lady - His Lordship’s presence causes the lightning to avoid the Holy Vessel. Remaining on deck is entirely safe.”

A lightning bolt bounced off the sacred planks behind the Servant and the Dreamers let out collective screams. Several of the children hunkered down in their parents’ arms, bawling their eyes out. The Servant turned lethargically to the completely unharmed spot and glanced upwards.

“Well, mostly safe,” the Servant corrected and walked towards the Palace. Underneath a table, faint pleas from Song begged Urangtai to keep her safe. The man seemed to curse, her usurpation of his hiding spot having pushed him halfway back out into the rain.
Wenbo and Ai blinked at one another. The hot clouds began to dissipate and their wet clothes grew cold and heavy. They had barely had the chance to feel it, however, before the Servants came out with hot tea and blankets for all the Dreamers. Wenbo and Ai huddled together under the same blanket and each accepted a cup of smoked black tea. Its scent was mouthwatering.

“H-hey! I see more land!” came a shout. It was Wen De, their youngest son. He stood next to them at the bow, hopping up and down as he pointed maniacally at the horizon. Wenbo and Ai shuffled to their feet and peeked over the side. There, slowly unwrapping itself from the cloudscape stretched an endless land of green and an eternal plain of red, separated by a range of enormous mountains. To the Dreamer’s utter confusion, these mountains seemed rather content sitting still in the earth, similar to their smaller cousins, the boulders.

“Ey, Urang? What do you think that is?” asked Wen Tian and pointed at a strip of red running out into the boiling strait like a bleeding vein.

Urangtai squinted, Song’s vice-like grip on his arm. He sputtered for a moment in thought before nodding, “It looks like blood.” His eyes widened, “Maybe it is a land of giants.”

“Conclusions!” Zhong Wang tipped his head over the rail with a certain skepticism, “It could very well be a water rich in mineral.”

Wen Tian let out a quiet ‘huh’ and tapped his lips thoughtfully. Wen Bei hoisted her youngest one up in her arms and came over to the rails, peering at the distant red river. The baby in her arms cooed fearfully at the distance to the ground.

“I’m with Urangtai on this one - really looks like blood from here,” she agreed with a frown.

The ship dipped downwards slightly and a few of the Dreamers had to grab onto the surroundings. The enormous gong rang out once more and the baby in Bei’s arms began to squeal. She offered it a sigh and tried to lullaby it to sleep, but was drowned out by a booming call: “ALL BOW BEFORE HIS LORDSHIP, SHENGSHI OF THE THOUSAND STREAMS!”

The palace doors swung open, sending Dreamers on the deck jumping into the air out of sudden fright. Out marched a thousand black-robed Servants, all thundering praises at the command of one crimson clad one in the front. The Dreamers scurried into position, but were quickly rounded up and brought to the very front of the crowd. As the thousand servants fell to their knees, the fifty or so Dreamers stood sheepishly before the approaching snake. Many of them fell into kowtows; some bowed; some had no idea what to do. Regardless, the snake lifted merely a hand and smiled.

“Have you all enjoyed the journey?”

Wenbo and Ai nodded smilingly. “We have, Your Lordship,” the couple confirmed. The others nodded as well and echoed the sentiment.

“That is a relief. I cannot imagine the pain of longing some of you must be going through… It is never easy to leave behind family. I will miss my dearest friend, as well, but to leave behind your own flesh and blood… Do not be afraid to shed tears if you must - tears shed in honour of friends and family are always a blessing.”

Some heads in the small crowd sank and a sniffle or two were heard. The snake cleared his throat and gestured to the green expanse surrounding the ship below. “If I may, I wish to direct your attention away from those tears for now, however, and instead focus it on the land beneath us.”

The snake slithered over to the railing, followed by the Dreamers. “I welcome you to the Dragon’s Foot,” he smiled. “It is an old land - ancient beyond any other landmass in this universe. Life walked this soil before there were fish in the sea; before the black moon Veradax shadowed the night sky. The mountains of Qiangshan are older than the continent of Atokhekwoi; the river Beihe, older than the land of Kalgrun.”

The Dreamers nodded along as if they knew about these places. The snake continued, “Upon the greatest river in this world - Nanhe - we shall land and summon forth your new home.”

The ship’s bow gently cut into the water and enormous waves pushed out on either side of the hull. However, as the Dreamers saw, even these tsunamis were but ripples in comparison to the inland sea that was Nanhe.

“W-where’s the bank?” Wen De asked nervously.

“During the flood season, Nanhe swells to be one hundred kilometres wide, young master De.

“Oh snap,” De whispered. The snake slithered over to Wenbo and Ai and placed a hand on their shoulders.

“Are you ready, then?”

The two blinked at each other and the other equally curious Dreamers and then slowly nodded at Shengshi. The snake nodded back and snapped his fingers. The red-clad Servant in the front of the thousand kneeling rose up and went into the palace. A minute later, the gong sounded for the third time. The snake raised his hands and thundered, “Chuanwang! Arise from the depths and hear the summoning of your creator!”

Another minute passed. The Dreamers bobbed their heads up and down and from side to side to see if they could catch a glimpse of anything happened. Then, as if the inland sea was parting, waves upon waves of water pulled away from the centre of the river to reveal a landmass of purple. Only, it slowly dawned upon the onlookers that it wasn’t a landmass at all, nor was it a mountain, and when a head the size of the very ship they stood on aimed one sky blue eye on the deck, the Dreamers collectively swallowed. The snake clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

“Oh, my dearest little turtle - did those nasty fire giants do that to you?”

The water and trees quivered as the colossal turtle whimpered with a gruesome bass. The snake hushed soothingly and patted a small fraction of the beast’s stone-like snout. “There, there, little one - it’s good that they didn’t get both your eyes. Have you had time to heal?”

While the snake conversed with the turtle monster, the Dreamers stood slack-jawed in awe. Wen Tian nudged Urangtai and said in a quivering voice: “B-bet’cha can’t surplex that, huh.” He laughed nervously.

“Not even Elder Chagatai could,” Urangtai managed to whisper out, “Nor Bataar. Elder Altansarnai... maybe.” He gave a nervous chuckle.

“Maybe,” Wen Tian agreed.

The turtle rumbled again and silenced the bubbling chatter among the Dreamers. The snake turned with a smile.

“Chuanwang agrees.”

“Agrees to what, Your Lordship?” Wenbo asked.

“To serve as your home.”

“Our home, Lord?” Zhong Wang spoke up, “If I may...? In what capacity?”

“Your request was to travel the world in comfort. Chuanwang shall make certain of this.” He gestured to the turtle’s shell. “Upon his back, I shall built you a city to serve as your carriage. It will seem dauntingly large at first, but I assure you that, in time, your descendants will have filled it to the point where extensions to and even permanent colonies outside its borders must be made.”

Wen De blinked. “W-with all due respect, Your Lordship - how c-can we live atop a turtle? What will we eat? Where will we gather materials for our work?”

“Great questions, young master De.” Once more, the snake pointed to the shell, in an even more dramatic manner this time. “Your city shall be divided into several sections - one of these will be a great farming estate which harvests will feed all the residents aboard. There may come a time when even these will require expansion, but that time will be many generations from now. As for materials, Chuanwang’s shell offers nothing in terms of clays, stone or metals. These, you must gather from the world around you. As you traverse the land and seas, you will come across various deposits of natural resources. The city’s industrial complex will offer enough storage space to gather large quantities of all of these.”

“In other words, we will live as nomads?” Wenbo proposed. The snake nodded.

“Precisely. I foresee that in the future, the mortal world will very much depend on your great trade routes for all manner of resources you gather from across the world, and you will likewise depend on them for various other resources. Cooperation, growth, wealth - prosperity.” The snake seemed to almost swoon out of sheer anticipation and joy.

“We aren’t complete strangers to the idea,” Zhong Wang nodded, “Before a lot of our families had our own gardens, we followed the Tree Eaters around.” His eyes fell on Urangtai, “You may be a bit too young to remember those days.” He looked back at Shengshi, “My Lord, I do not think there could be a better gift.” He folded his hands together and bowed his head.

“A joy for me to give you, our dearest Dreamers. Now, to construct this city will take time - a long time, and no doubt be a little uncomfortable for my dear Chuanwang here.” Once more, he patted the turtle’s colossal muzzle. “Therefore, I recommend that all of you go to bed for the night, and that you do not ascend back onto to deck until Heliopolis stands at its zenith.”

“Go to bed? But it’s midd--ugh!” Wen Tian barely managed to speak before Wen Bei elbowed him in the stomach. Wenbo and Ai both nodded.

“Of course, Your Lordship. Best of luck to You and to the… Turtle.”

“Chuanwang,” the snake corrected. The turtle huffed.

“Of-- of course. Forgive us, great Chuanwang.” The older couple kowtowed, stood back up and went into the palace. Most of their children and grandchildren followed along.

“My Lord,” Zhong Wang piped up once again, “Would I be out of my standing to request an audience with you at your earliest convenience?”

“Then you have it now, young master Zhong Wang,” the snake replied and gave him a sideways smile.

Zhong Wang folded his hands, “As your Lordship is likely already aware, the Dreamers are versed in Shengshese writing and reading. Our Elder Mother Xiaoli had also bestowed upon us the knowledge of ‘The Flow’.” He pursed his lips, “I was wondering if I may read the sacred writings at the source.” He pushed his explanation further, “I myself was a student of Elder Zhongcheng’s ‘Contemplations’ as well as Elder Mother’s ‘Flow’.”

“Ah, a scholar, I see,” the snake mused and leaned down to get a closer look. He chuckled to himself. “It pains me that I did not seize the opportunity to converse more with your father during the feast, young master Zhong Wang. To see that even civilisations as young as yours dabble in morals and philosophy… Oh, it warms this old serpent’s heart.” The snake placed a hand on Wang’s shoulder. “I grant you unlimited access to my libraries. Whenever you may wish to read or study my literature, simply call upon a Servant and have them take you to my study. I am looking forward to hearing your own ‘contemplations’.”

Zhong Wang bowed his head, “I regret that my Elder never named his contemplations beyond that -- although fitting considering his preaching of pragmatisms. I too look forward to discussing this further.” He tilted his head back up, “I suppose I shall get my ten hours of sleep in now, should your Lordship require nothing further of me.”

“Yes, go rest, young master Zhong Wang. Tomorrow, your new home will be ready.”

The Dreamer turned and entered the palace. As the gates closed behind him, the tremors of tumultuous torrents rung through the deck planks. The muffled soundscape of the outside filled with the rumble of stone, the whistles of wind and splashes of water. Boulders shattered and clumped together; hot metal hissed as it collided with cool water; and through it all, Chuanwang unleashed strained groans and pained roars.

Few of the Dreamers found they could sleep properly that night.

---

Just about all the Dreamers had gathered early in the feast hall for breakfast, and all around the table, anticipation sparked like static shock. Chuanwang was a great beast, and even now they could hear exhausted droning coming from outside. Ai picked up her teacup with a quivering hand as another roar echoed through the planks of the ship.

“He sounds hurt, mom,” went one of the young and tugged at the hem of his mother’s robe. The mother picked up her child and held her close. Wen De pressed his lips together and gave his father a glance. The old Dreamer Wenbo sat with tears running down his cheeks and struggled to hold back whimpers. More and more faces turned to him, and Wen Bei asked, “What’s it saying, dad? Is it in pain?”

“Very much so, Bei,” Wenbo replied and sniffed. Ai pouted and laid her head on his shoulder. Wenbo swallowed. “However, it’s-... It’s also very brave. It’s known pain before and-... And it seems that it wants to help us. Well, either that, or it’s just very eager to please its creator.”

Some smiles spread throughout the crowd. Wenbo rubbed some teary exhaustion out of his eyes. Ai made a half-smile. “Are you sure you’re alright, Wen-Wen? You laid crying all night on Chuanwang’s behalf. Don’t think I couldn’t hear you.”

“I’ll be fine,” Wenbo assured. “As soon as he feels better and His Lordship’s work is done, I’ll be fine…”

Ai nodded. “Let’s hope he finishes early, then.”

The Servants brought the breakfast course: Various lightly fried vegetables, steamed goods, white rice and millet gruel. The Dreamers naturally missed Mother’s cooking, but all had to agree with her sentiment that it didn’t hold a candle to the eternally dedicated cooks in Jiangzhou’s kitchens. A number of them dreaded the rapidly approaching hour they would be left to their own devices and be forced to cook on their own. Ai in particular was not at all confident that her stalkplum stew could measure up to even a simple rice congee produced by a Servant.
A few hours passed this way, with small meals speckled between sessions of tea and conversation. Before long, enough hours had passed that dawn stood at its peak. Wenbo patted the corner of his mouth with a handkerchief and adjusted the horned crown atop his head. He and Ai rose first, followed by the rest of the host. By a train of Servants they were led to the gates of the palace. The Dreamers all sucked in agitated breaths.

The gates were pushed open; the Dreamers walked outside.

What greeted them stole away that breath they’d drawn.

Before them, the great shadow of Chuanwang darkened the whole ship as before, yet atop the massive turtle’s shell grew enormous, pagoda-like spires of crimson bricks linked together by massive, red stone walls. From their perspective, it was massively difficult to see what was behind those walls, but the tallest among them to barely see the faintest signs of rooftops beyond the walls. So caught in the magnificence were they that they barely noticed the snake approaching.

“Do not fall in love just yet - you have not even seen the inside,” he snickered.

The Dreamers snapped out of their awe just in time to see Chuanwang turn about face, revealing his left side to the ship. There, down the entirely of the shell, all the way to what would be the ground if the massive turtle retracted its legs, ran a long, robust staircase leading up to a great red gate. The snake begun to climb the stairs and waved the others along.

“Come on now - come witness my finest work.”

Eagerly Dreamers ran up the stairs, making certain, however, not to run past Shengshi himself. Nevertheless, as the steps began to number in the hundreds, the enthusiasm died down a little. Some children, especially, sat down on the steps to sulk, much to the dismay of their parents.

Song, the thin alabaster-haired woman of Urangtai’s chagrin, whispered silk in his ear as she clung to him and every step he took, “Urangtai, why don’t you carry me in those arms of yours?” She let out an excited giggle.

Silk as it may be, Urangtai’s face twisted, “I uh, I don’t think that’s a good idea, Song.” He mumbled, an ounce of discomfort dripping from his voice -- her obsessive eyes scanning his face.

"Well, why not?" she protested and groaned dramatically as she climbed another five steps.

“I...” He shook his head, finding a different set of words, “What if I dropped you?”

"Am I that heavy?" Song pouted. "Would you drop me?"

“I would.” His eyes opened wide, “n’t! I wouldn’t. I don’t know Song, maybe I could just get a little space?”

Luckily, before the frustrated girl could form a retort, a bellow came from the snake atop the stairs, followed by awed gasps from the rest of the Dreamers. The couple rushed up the remaining steps to witness the other side of the great red gate:

A long paved road ran roughly a hundred metres ahead, branching into various smaller roads along the way. As the group followed the road, they saw several cold kilns ready to be lit and set to fire clay, and multiple forges and smithies. To their right were large, empty wooden platforms and long, rectangular stone houses, doubtlessly the aforementioned storage areas.

"Welcome to the industrial square," the snake said. "This is where you will work with the materials you gather as you travel the world. As of now, I have built you smithies, kilns, tanneries and carpenter shops. In time, you may repurpose old shops or construct new ones as you uncover new trades to pursue."

Wen De blinked at a nearby kiln. A stupidly excited grin crossed his face. "Such amazing craftsmanship! Oh, I cannot wait to get started! I'll make some pots first - with fine patterns!" Wenbo and Ai chuckled proudly. The snake nodded as well.

Urangtai looked to the forges, his mind splitting with thoughts. The daze of the dreamers recent blessing still buzzed in his ears and he knew right then, he wanted to master the ways of metal. He tugged away from Song, the woman already having forgotten his pleas for space and took a step towards the flat face of an anvil. Despite being so many steps away, he could almost feel the cold stone under his fingers.

Surprisingly, Song had not clung to his arm as he walked away, for she had been pulled into conversation with her mother and sisters about the beautiful palace teasing its position behind an inner wall.

The rest of the group followed the southward-going road towards yet another gate. The snake pushed it open to reveal massive fields, already ready to sprout. In the centre of the area grew a great field of wheat; on each side grew smaller patches of alternating vegetables; south of those, behind a low red brick fence grew tall fruit and nut trees of various kinds. Insects buzzed blissfully about the area, and scattered between the many gardens were both silos and houses. To the far back of the district stood a tall, rectangular building, broadside facing the Dreamers. The snake raised his hand towards it.

"This is the granary. Here, your harvest may be stored for a longer time than if you were to keep it in baskets at home. A fire in the bottom keeps the air dry, and there are vents at the very top for hot, moist air to exit through." He gestured to the rest of the area. "The rest of what you see is known as the agricultural hub. I expected that most of you will work most of your days here to support your growing population. Already, I have planted wheat, carrots, cabbage, spring onions, garlic, cucumbers and millet for you. Due to the city's placement, however, I strongly suggest that you do not plant anything that is too reliant on consistent water supplies. Rain will come, certainly, but Chuanwang cannot support any rivers or mountains on his back - the only water that will be available to you here will be that which you gather, boil or catch." He drummed his chin as if trying to remember anything else. "Ah, yes, livestock - you can find water buffalo to the north past Qiangshan. They make for suitable companions and can eat the grass, flowers and moss growing on Chuanwang's shell."

Wenbo and Ai nodded along, with Zhong Wang right behind them. Wen Tian walked over to a carrot stalk and pulled it out of the ground. It was the largest one any Dreamer had seen - it could almost feed three.

"Expect that level of quality if you sow the fields yourselves, dear Dreamers," the snake promised with a grin. Wen Tian's eyes flickered with amazement and he bit into the vegetable, dirt and all.

"This is so good," he whimpered happily, a few children looking longingly at the vegetable.

"Moving on," said the snake and continued along the centre of the hub, up towards a particularly large gate in the great inner wall. Ai and her daughters whispered possible purposes of the mysterious majestic building barely revealing itself from behind the crimson bricks, and as the snake shoved up this gate as well, it became abundantly clear that among them, the most creative had been right.

Before them stood a tall palace of red and gold, topped with black stone tiles. Flower gardens filled the spaces between the walls and the paved roads, and the fragrance was heavenly. The snake swung out his arms proudly and shouted, "This is the Dreaming Palace! Not to be confused with the Palace of Dreams, no - it is but a mere smoking match compared to the beautiful chandelier that is K'nell's home. Still, I have tried to make it as close to my perception of a castle worthy of a god." He pointed at two houses flanking the road on each side. "These will one day serve as guard posts when the royal family will need them."

"Royal family, Your Lordship?" Wenbo asked emptily.

"Why yes! The Wen Clan are royal blood now. I thought I told the servants to call you by the titles 'lord' and 'lady'." He eyed Ai and Wenbo.

"Huh… They… Might have done so," Wenbo mumbled. "I confess I've been a little clouded in the head on account of everything that's happened."

"Understandable," the snake soothed. He turned back to the palace. "Due to its size, the palace will also serve as your temple to the gods. Make certain to be faithful to them first and foremost, and only greatness will await you."

Zhong Wang stared longingly at the building before turning to Shengshi, “My Lord?”

"Hmm?"

“Forgive my asking, and do not take the question as a buffer for my awe at your work,” Zhong Wang folded his hands, clearly a little nervous, “But where will those not of Wenbo, reside?”

"Ah, yes - we will get there soon. I believe your home is next on the tour."

Zhong Wang bowed his head, “Thank you, my Lord.”

"You may explore the inside of the palace later everyone. Please come along for our next destination." The snake slithered around the great palace, and many Dreamers stopped on multiple occasions to marvel at the architecture. The paved roads stopped and became a lightly cobbled path flanked by flowers as far as the eyes could see. Small ponds of rainwater formed in small indents in the ground. An idyllic aura filled the air.

“... I could live here for a time,” Wenbo thought out loud. Ai squeezed his arm.

“Well, good thing we will, huh? Imagine it: waking up to this view, then step into the fields and work… It’ll be just like home! With a bigger house!” She sighed in relief. “No more drafts through that dumb curtain door.”

“... I worked hard on that,” Wen Fei muttered to herself.

The snake pushed open a great gate behind the palace and the doors unveiled another massive building complex, this one almost larger than the palace. It consisted of three increasingly taller and wider buildings, ending in a great stone block with a black-tiled roof. The snake beckoned over Zhong Wang.

Zhong Wang folded his arms behind his back and stepped forward, eyes flickering with appraisal.

“This is your new home, young master. I present to you the Hermian Academy - a research institute for mortalkind to use on the quest for knowledge, religious epiphanies and technology.”

“I-” Zhong Wang stammered for a moment. He slowly breathed out of his nose as he held his pose straight up, “I am honored, my Lord. I would like to see the inside and set up as soon as possible.”

“You may - the tour is almost over, anyway. The inside contains multiple studies, empty rooms and a large library. If you wish, I can add some of my own literature to the shelves.”

“I would appreciate that, my Lord,” Zhong Wang tipped his head into a bow.

The snake nodded. He then pointed at Zhong Wang and turned to the other Dreamers. “Zhong Wang will be granted the title of Master from this day forward. I elect him to be the headmaster of the Hermian Academy, and he is to lead research and science in the name of spirituality, prosperity and harmony.” The snake nodded at Wenbo. “See to it that he and his students receive the proper funding to do so, Lord Wenbo.”

Wenbo tasted the title of ‘lord’ in his mouth and found it wonderfully sweet. “O-of course, Your Lordship. Master Zhong shall have whatever he wishes for.”

“Good. He will need assistants, too. Master Zhong, are there any among these Dreamers that you deem as worthy of being your assistants, disciples or colleagues?”

Master Zhong Wang tipped his head once again, “Your Lordship, I know of a few.” He looked to the crowd, “Li Jian, Wen Taishan, Batbayaar, Wen Yang, and Nergui.”

“A fine selection,” the snake praised, knowing full and well that he knew none of them. “Then you have heard your mission, I suspect. Are there any questions?”

“Is there anything else we should know, or keep in mind before we begin our tasks?” Zhong Wang asked.

“Only that I make my highest recommendations to seek out every culture you meet - learn from them; teach them what you know. Know that the Hermian Academy is not only for the people of dreams and rivers, but that it is a school for all who wish to enroll. If you encounter other mortals that express interest in enrollment, it is your duty to accept them. Is that understood?”

“Quite well,” Zhong Wang bowed his head without hesitation, “All will know your generosity this day.”

The snake bowed low before the Dreamer. “I am eternally grateful that you so dutifully take upon yourself this task, this mission. Keep up the effort, Master Zhong, and greatness and fame will await you and your teachings.”

“Then may the glory of the Zhong name ride upon whatever greatness comes,” Zhong dipped lower than Shengshi and folded his hands forward, “Our first task shall be a written code of our Elder’s words blessed in your name.”

“I am looking forward to reading it,” the snake chuckled. “You may begin your work, prized scholars.” The snake tipped back up and turned to the rest of the Dreamers. “Very well, our tour continues out the western gate - if you would follow me…”

The rest of the Dreamers walked off behind the river god, with Urangtai looking over his shoulder at Zhong Wang, a buzzing smile on his cousin’s face. His eyes then jumped to the ones Zhong Wang had chosen, from the gruff yet intelligent face of Li Jian, to the gentle curves of-- Suddenly Song’s face appeared in his line of sight, a smile he didn’t know he was wearing turning to a straight line. The girl flashed him a menacing grin, took him by the arm and picked up speed.

The snake opened the western gate to reveal an open courtyard at the centre of which was a ring of sandstone. At the far end of the courtyard was a tall brick building with a tall tower to house a lookout. Three small shacks lined the wall to the group’s left, and at a distance to the left and forward a bit was a strange, open range with a collection of upright wicker disks at the far end. The snake gestured to the various buildings.

“Welcome to the Military Quarter. Any good city needs a proper defense, and a moving city will likely not be any different. While Chuanwang can offer some aid, it would probably be best for everyone and everything onboard if he remained largely still.” A few of the Dreamers nodded in agreement. The snake continued, “The headquarters and command centre would be the building behind me--” he thumbed at the large house with the lookout on top, “-- followed by the barracks for the soldiers on duty--” he pointed at the three buildings by the wall, “-- a shooting range-”

“A what?” one of the Dreamers blurted out. Shengshi sneered.

“Please do your best not to interrupt me, child…”

The Dreamer raised her hand and Shengshi pointed at her. “Y-your Lordship, forgive me - what is a shooting range?”

The snake frowned. “Well, it is exactly what it sounds like, is it not?” Once more he pointed to the range. “It is an area where you practice archery.”

“Practice… What now?” Wen Tian supported. The snake blinked in surprise.

“Have you not learned of archery before?”

The dreamers shook their heads. The snake hummed.

“Huh. Imagine that… Well, no time like the present, I suppose.” With that, he snapped his fingers and an intricately carved bow materialised in his hand with five arrows. “The art of bow making and fletchery may take years to perfect - not to mention the very art of archery itself. First, one must find adequately bendable branches - a sort that does not break easily, yet does not require an ox to bend. Mulberry, walnut, ash and ironwood are all viable materials.” He tugged at the string. “Next, the sinew. It should be solid and lasting - poor string will snap at the least convenient time. Animal sinews make for good string.” He handed the bow to Urangtai for him to test. “That is about it. Proper selection of materials make a great bow - skill in use, however, cannot be taught, at least not by me.”

Urangtai stretched the string back, the bow creaking under his hard earned strength. He looked over at another Dreamer, “Bataar would have loved this.” The other dreamer nodded vigorously.

“Let me see,” A compact looking dreamer by the name of Zhong Ming held out her hand. Urangtai handed it over and Ming twanged the string a few times, a pleasant smile forming on her face.

“You could teach him the skill in Heaven,” the snake said with a somber smile. He offered Zhong Ming an arrow and pointed at the shooting range in the distance. “If you could walk over to where the sand begins and aim for the centre of that disk, please?”

Ming looked over the arrow, eventually finding the notch in the back and putting it all together in her mind. She knocked the arrow and pulled back, her elbow a little too far out and her forward arm doing little more than holding the bow. The sloppy form quickly turned into the string blasting out from her fingers and snapping across her nose. She dropped the bow and cursed loudly, a red line forming on her otherwise blue speckled face.

Before anyone could offer to take her place, she had picked up the bow and the arrow again. She adjusted her back arm, but kept a sloppy position -- having little knowledge of the tool in her hands. This time, however, she managed to launch the bow in the nick of time -- her arms straining under the weight. The arrow shot off from the arch, straight and true -- just not at the target. It slipped far above the disk and slapped against a wall, causing everyone to flinch. The snake snickered and patted her on the shoulder.

“With practice, you will make it one day.”

Ming dropped her eyes to the ground, slightly deflated but not beaten, “Thank you, my Lord.” Her voice betrayed a jaded perfectionism.

“That concludes the tour of the city, dears - well, not all of it. There is still the residential area and the market district, but I reckon that one needs little to no explanation. The Lord and Lady Wen, as well as the heiresses or heirs to their titles may take up residence in the palace--” He closed his mouth and hummed. “... Though I suppose you are so few and intimate that class division really is not necessary. Tell you what - take up shelter wherever you may wish; be fruitful and multiply; then, one day, you may utilise all of this city’s assets to their fullest potentials.”

The Dreamers bowed as deeply as they could. At the front stood Wenbo and Ai, Wenbo nearly at the verge of tears. “Y-your Lordship, words cannot express how much--...” He let out a whimper and Ai comforted him with a squeeze of the shoulder.

“We are eternally grateful, Your Lordship,” she finished helpfully.

The snake nodded and bowed back, albeit not as low. “It was the least I could-- Oh! I just remembered something.”

Wenbo, Ai and several others looked up. “Your Lordship?”

“Yes, there was distinctly something I was going to make you - something to make interacting with others a whole lot easier… Oh, what was it again… Oh yes!” The snake slithered over to a tree, broke off a thick branch and began whittling away at it with a claw. Wenbo blinked and raised a hand. Shengshi nodded at him.

“M-my Lord, what are you making?”

“A translator. It will help you talk to other mortals that are not familiar with your tongue.”

“Wait, not all mortals speak the same language?” Wen De thought out loud. The snake shook his head.

“No, not really. A few speak approximation of others’, but nothing that can easily be deciphered by mortal minds.” He gave the object a final scratch before handing it to Wenbo. It was a small, wooden carp . The snake hummed. “Well, are you not going to say hello?”

Wenbo blinked. “O-oh, of course, uhm.. Hello?”

“Howdy,” the carp responded. Wenbo, Ai and the others jumped. As the carp spoke, its head and tail seemed to move in an uncanny resemblance to a living fish. “How you doin’?” it continued.

“I’m.. Doing quite well, I suppose,” Wenbo answered. “How about yourself?”

“Oh, y’know. Not much’s goin’ on. Life’s a little wooden, if ya will.” It snickered to itself and Wenbo frowned out of a frustrating lack of understanding. He looked at Shengshi in desperation, and the snake smiled back.

“I call it the Babblefish. Just ask it kindly and it will translate any sentence spoken to its user. This means that, if you want to understand what someone else is saying, you must hand them the fish before they speak.”

Wenbo frowned. “That sounds a little…”

“Inconvenient?” the snake proposed.

“N-no, that’s not what I meant!”

“Do not worry. It is meant to be this way. Connection requires trust, and to share is to build trust. Show the other first that you mean them no harm by offering them this fish. Then, once you speak, it will translate your message to them, and you will tell them that you come in peace and the ability of this fish. You will tell them of the wonders of the world and inspire them to learn your language, just as you will learn theirs.”

Wenbo looked back down at the carp and it gave him a sassy wink. “I understand,” said the old Dreamer.
“Good,” the snake replied and looked over the gathered crowd. “Placing the fish on Chuanwang’s shell will let him understand you, by the way, so whenever you wish him to do anything in particular, that is how you do it.”

“Understood, Your Lordship.”

The snake gave the Dreamers a smile and flicked away a divine tear. “You know, I cannot quite express just how proud I am of all of you… It warms this divine heart to see so many eager faces ready to bring a golden age to this world.” He sniffed quietly and rubbed the last of the tears out of his eyes. “Well, I will have to leave you now. For your first destination, I recommend travelling around the continent for a bit - explore and see the Foot. Just… Stay away from the east. There desert is a dangerous area.”

“Of course, Your Lordship.”

The snake looked back towards the hub and sighed. “Well. Good luck, then.” With that, he skipped into the air, gliding lethargically back towards his ship.

Ming stepped over to Wenbo, “Eld- Lord Wenbo,” She corrected herself, “I was wondering if maybe--”

“Lord Wenbo!” A young dreamer held out his hands, “Can I try the fish?”

Wenbo handed the youngster the carp and Ming tucked a slant into her cheek. The youngest quickly ran off with the carp, giggling at it. Ming watched him leave before turning back to Wenbo.

“Lord Wenbo,” She started again, “I was wondering if you had thought about who should be in charge of...” She let her voice trailed as her eyes bounced around the military quarter, “All this.”

The old dreamer scratched the hair black hair underneath his crown and hummed. “Well, uhm… I suppose whomsoever would like to volunteer may be deemed eligible,” he proposed ponderously.

“I volunteer,” Ming bowed her head.

Wenbo scanned the small crowd. “Anyone else?”

Nobody challenged her. Wenbo gave Ming a smiling nod. “Then the job’s yours, my dear. I name you… Uhm… General Zhong Ming, commander of the City Guard! Make us proud.”

Ming did her best to force her smile into a serious, stern look, “You can count on me, Lord Wenbo!”

Wenbo squeezed her shoulder proudly and then turned to the rest of the crowd. “Well, I think it’s about time we set a course, wouldn’t you all agree?” Chuckles, hums and cheers sounded back. “Right,” Wenbo continued, “where should we travel towards?”

Wen De raised his hand. “Oh! Dad! We could head north and check out those mountains over there!”

“And that red lake!” Wen Bei supported.

“It was a river, Bei.”

“I know what I said.”

Wenbo hummed. “We could, I suppose - though I’m curious as to how Chuanwang would climb them without, uhm… Tipping the whole city.”

Wen De let out a disappointed ‘oh’.

“We have plenty to settle into,” Urangtai suggested, “Just send our companion on a flat path -- I want to check out a few of those workshops, and I’m sure some others might want to as well.” Several others gathered around Urangtai with similar sentiments. Wenbo nodded.

“So be it. Then we either go west or south.”

“South sounds like a scorcher,” Ai mumbled. “I vote west.”

“West,” Wen Bei voted.

“Can we go south after?” Wen Tian asked.

“Yes, of course.”

“Then I, too, vote west.”

In the end, the vote to travel west gathered a majority. The lord and lady smiled at one another and made their way back to the Academy, where they would attempt to reach Chuanwang’s head.

As they left, Wen Yuma patted Urangtai on the back. “Well, shall we check out those shops?”

“Let’s--” Urangtai wobbled to look past Yuma at a busy Song, “Yeah, let’s get going.”