---

---

A loud crack tore through the surrounding air, not exactly startling Xem but giving him more than enough cause to turn his gaze skyward once again. Although this time he saw nothing save for the same dark and shadowy sky, along with the faint glow of some magical rift lying several miles east. He hoped the other gods, whatever or whoever they may be, were working on fixing it as it would be a terribly inconvenient thing to have to deal with later on. In any case, the lord of plague shifted his gaze northward just in time to see numerous cerulean streams burst forth from the mountain's summit, before pouring down in uproarious currents to water the dry fissure ridden plains below. Beside these were the other telltale trails of gods, one of whom had an aura a tad more detectable than the rest oddly enough. They had fixed some manner of wellspring it seemed, which was good, as it would doubtless help in cooling the rest of the drifting continent down. Not to mention add new forms of life and growth, the decay and rotting of which would see his own hunger swiftly satiated. Manipulating the miasma's movement, Xem pushed himself upward until at last he was equidistant to the mountain's peak, the lip of a massive crater as it turned out. Its center was dominated by a deep aquifer of crystalline purity, the other gods and some manner of rock creature standing around its edge.

Floating forward on a noxious cloud, one that reeked of a carcass several weeks old, Xem ever-so-slightly inclined his head.

"Greetings."

His voice was naught more than a deep gurgle. The rancid hiss of an ancient cesspit churning with roaches and maggots.

"I am Xem."

I am completely and utterly alone…

The chamber was dank, the uncomfortable plop of filthy water dripping from the grungy ceiling down to the unwashed floor making a pitter-patter more torturous than any suffering the prisoner had ever experienced. In the corner his own excrement began to pile up and fill the room with its vile odor, choking any chance at a full breath despite great desperation to do so. The other corner, the second of four that he didn’t occupy or use as a sleeping spot, contained the remains of what pitiful scraps he was provided for food. Beneath the iron shod door was the single branch of light he was afforded beyond when the door was opened to give him his rare meal. The beam was in of itself both a blessing and a curse, for the fires outside always burned and he was never spared a moment in the dark to truly fall asleep.

It had been an uncountable amount of time from when he had first been thrown within the confines of this dreadful prison and by now he knew very well he had no hope of trusting his current count. The guards made everything difficult by their rare retrieval of food and at a certain point he had begun to question his sanity. Occasionally time would feel warped and moments between the very minimal human interaction he received felt almost instantaneous, though he knew this was a lie his psyche told him to keep him together.

He appreciated the lie, to be honest.

Welts and bruises were beginning to heal from the last serious beating he received, his mind imagining them yellowing by now as his body used every scrap of stored energy to repair itself. Unfortunately, he could tell he wasn’t healing as well as he had in the past; any reserves he had were all but spent and now his wracked figure struggled to maintain him. At one point he had fashioned a slicing implement from a piece of bone carelessly left within a small chunk of meat given to him, in a vain attempt to convince even himself that escape was possible. Thoughts had turned to suicide but something deep within him stayed his hand, despite all evidence pointing to a loss of hope. Several times he’d planned the attempt, even getting so far as to raise the slicer to his throat, but each time he had fallen short.

“Was that bravery on my part?” he mumbled, voice rasping from two days being denied a drink, “Or just cowardice.”

A rapping at the door and the heavy clunk of locks being rotated caught his attention and the door opened, a chain visible on the other side keeping it from widening his escape avenue too far. There was a rapid muttering between two voices before the chain was rolled back and one of the guards stepped through, back lit by the fires outside. Behind him another figure glowered though their visages were hidden by the lack of forelight; the man admitted he only ASSUMED the second guard was glowering. The clatter of tin as another bowl of muck hit the floor, a life giving gruel in a most unfortunate manner. Much to his disappointment, however, the man did not hear the sound of liquid being poured. As they began to turn to leave he spoke up out of turn, only realizing his mistake halfway through the sentence.

“W-Water, p-ple-”

His attempt was rewarded with a strike to the face as the sole of a heavy boot slammed into his forehead and drove his head into the wall. There was a sickening crack as he slackened and fell, conscious but dazed to the extreme. A cruel laugh filled the air as the door was closed behind them and the man was left huffing and shivering in an attempt to regain composure. The heavy locks slammed back into place, that soul crushing clunk, and once more the man was trapped inside. Time passed in splashes and waves, the decrepit occasionally reaching a little bit farther for the bowl but failing to quite reach. His fingers gentle pulled at the stones, like her could perhaps ball it up like a piece of fabric and draw the bowl closer, but it seemed the flagstones weren’t particularly interested in that.

“Gods, why have you done this…”

Fingers caught the edge of the bowl, plunking into the evidently warm and surprisingly hearty bowl of what felt like ACTUAL stew. The man’s eyes went wide despite still being slumped over himself, face down on the rock. ACTUAL stew. He jolted up with new energy, pulling the bowl to him with the caution of a man unwilling to lose a single drop. He practically shoveled the food into his mouth, the richness of the bounty almost too much for him. He was careful with every motion, making sure not to lose anything of his meal, while simultaneously enjoying every mouthful of luscious meat, vegetables, and other, starchier things. By his fifth bite he stopped, staring down at it, incredulous; maybe he really had gone insane.

Then water began to pour.

His heart dropped into his stomach as the sound of his cup being filled echoed across the walls, a blessed auditory adventure on any normal hour but one that meant something deeply dreadful in this moment. He wasn’t alone. With shaking hands he slowly rose his head from its prone position above the bowl, eyes refusing to wander as they remained trapped in their sockets. He could hear his heart roaring in his chest, practically threatening to slam its way free through bone, meat, and skin. Framed by the light creeping out beneath the door was a figure, a man. His mind flashed with thoughts, trying to remember if both guards had left, terrified why he was receiving these gifts now. Was this the end?

“Don’t fret, Ursare,” came the first retort of the figure, a voice harsh in timber but filled with benevolence that practically dripped from every word, ”You’re in good hands, brother.”

Ursare. That was his name. A shock of hearing it flushed through him, a rush of energy that seemed to roll outwards in all directions from his heart. He hadn’t heard that since his wife had said it, before he had been thrown into this hell. Memories of his wife flashed through his mind as the stew seemed to fulfill him even more, satisfying his body’s needs like no other. Memories of them laughing even during the horrors of the end, of the meagre home they loved, of the family they planned on building. Memories turned dark for an instant, of her being taken from him, her cold body, the dirt being tossed over her. Moments later and those thoughts were pushed from his head, as if some force within him labored to drive him elsewhere. The men who took her from him, the men who put him here, their cruel laughter and the lash of their clubs, the sting of bruises and welts and scars inflicted. As he thought, he ate, and each bite reinvigorated another part of his mind. Suddenly the cup of water hovered before him, held loosely by the man who had seamlessly arrived to crouch before him.

”Drink up, my man,” he spoke again, the gentlest of embers smoldering in his tone, ”You look like death.”

A flash of light and Ursare looked away, blinded for a moment before looking back to see the figure in his full definition. A shock of orange hair caught his attention first, bedraggled and salted with grey hairs. The man looked old, disheveled, and frankly as in shitty condition as he was. His beard and mustache had clearly grown unkempt and a similar set of bruises and blemishes marked his skin, clearly denoting he was in similarly dire straits. Finally, a metal prisoner’s collar sat on the man’s neck, with a busted link of chain showing that he had somehow been freed. A match, the source of the new light, was pinned between his thumb and index finger as he held it aloft before him, his other grimy hand clasping the proffered tin cup. Ursare set his bowl aside carefully and took the cup while he observed the figure, looking him up and down. How was it that he was here?

“H-How did you get in here?”

In response, the man smiled.

Fuck.

Despite all the wear and tear across his features, the bedraggled rags he wore as clothes, and the grime that caked nearly every part of him, that fucking smile was perfect. Every tooth aligned with the next as if set there by a god, and the pearly whiteness could practically blind. There was the slightest gap between the upper and lower teeth as he grinned, revealing a black line that served to make turn his smile into a staccato of infectious energy. Ursare had never seen anything like it in his entire life.

”Hard work, a’lotta sweat,” the indigent chattered, his jaws moving perfectly to keep that grin going despite speaking, ”a little blood, and a just a tiche of ambition.” The emphasis on ambition caught in Ursare’s mind and flashes of his own plans reached him. His eyes darted to his “blade” but it was nowhere to be found. His eyes flashed back and in the now free hand of the indigent was held the presumably deadly implement.

“I…”

”Don’t need to explain anything to me, pal. Relax, my lips are sealed; it’s solid handiwork, by the way.”

Ursare stared with wide eyes, looking at the yellowed gaze of the prisoner and noticing spark of red dancing in his iris. He really was going insane. Regardless, there was kindness in those eyes, a promise of things to come. Ursare couldn’t help but feel trust flash over him, though doubt still ate at the edges of his mind. With surprisingly little effort he was able to lift himself up to a full sitting position, not feeling the aches and pains of those movements that had been with him even minutes before. With concerted effort he gulped down the water, quaffing a thirst unlike any other he’d felt before. A cool, refreshing wave washed through him and a heavy sigh let loose as he finished the cup. The entrapped vagabond continued to smile. He was turning the cutter in his hand, weighing it.

”Tell you what, since we’re pals and all.” By now Ursare was sure he was seeing sparks of red dancing in the man’s eyes, as if the sclera was barely containing crimson lightning. It unnerved and invigorated Ursare in equal measure, like he could see the internal drive of the man.

”I’ll trade you. No handouts, either; a good, even trade. My own handiwork.”

With that he produced an item of his own, a shard of the color red that seemed to tear at Ursare’s vision. It was the platonic icon of the color crimson as it was held, suspended before him, before slowly taking on a more metallic sheen. As it was held forth the white smile of Ursare’s new benefactor shone behind it, producing an odd light that both frightened and invigorated Ursare. Trembling hands reached out to grasp the weapon, taking it into both as his “friend” bowed low, gladly offering it. It felt good in his hand as he slowly stood, eyes staring deep into the weapon’s edge to see a reflection of himself. He looked healthier, fitter, and ferocious in the reflection, staring into the weapon. Within was contained all the drive he needed to make that final push, dreams and fantasies he’d played through for weeks dancing in front of his eyes now within his grasp. Ursare didn’t even notice that his own bone-edged slicer was gone, evaporated into nothingness in the hands of the god. A red glow emanated from him as he stepped forward to the door, the man-god bowing low with one hand on the door.

Clunk

That beloved sound. The lock released itself and with a tug by his new found friend the door swung open. Though the torches burned brightly down the hallway Ursare didn’t even flinch, as if his eyes were already more than used to the light. His heart beat pounded in his skull as time seemed to move slowly, long and deliberate strides speeding his way down the hall. The first guard, an ugly bastard, with a unibrow and an ugly smashed eye, turned and began to shout.

The shiv entered his throat faster than he could fill his lungs to yell, plunging through his neck and exploding out the other side. Gruesome arterial gore ripped outwards, erupting in a pillar of blood to shower Ursare with it. The second guard, a skinny fucker with a rat-like features, lashed out with a club only to get caught be an out thrust forearm, dashed aside followed with a ferocious stab to the eye. Two more thrusts, one to the neck and another to arm pit, made the man crumple against the wall in a slumped pile. Behind Ursare strode the Transient figure, one by one tearing off locks and letting free prisoners. His smile beamed as men, invigorated from their long imprisonment, stormed out with rage boiling from their eyes. Red bolts danced almost imperceptibly between them, moving as a mob with Ursare at their fore.

In the main hall of the stronghold Ursare continued his bloody work, contemptuous ease defining each and every kill. It was as if each man who saw him didn’t notice the weapon in his hand, didn’t see him as a healthy and dedicated killer but a disheveled, weak prisoner who somehow burst from his cell. Needless to say, each of them died. Weapons and impromptu killing were liberated or hastily assembled as Ursare’s makeshift mob spread through the tunnels, killing with more wanton direction than Ursare’s very clear direction. A chant pounded in his head now, Ursare following it with shuddering whispers that infectiously spread to others without even realizing it.

I close my eyes and seize it
I clench my fists and beat it
I light my torch and burn it
I am the beast I worship

Lost to himself and his mortal needs, Ursare rounded the corner to the chambers of his truest captor. The focus of all his hate, all his rage, all his ambitions practically glowed with a red outline in his eyes, flanked by two less valuable lives. They turned on him, eyes wide but quickly taking control of the situation. One grabbed up a cruel looking machete while the other went for a crossbow, all the while their master sitting back and watching with malice in his every move. Ursare knew in that instant he was in danger but his body acted for him, diving aside from one blow to cut the ankle out from underneath the closest assailant. A second slash to the neck followed by a stab through the ear ended him rightly but the other leveled his crossbow. Without thinking the knife danced from his fingers, hurtling like a bolt of lightning at the crossbow wielding foe. Though the crossbowman never once reacted as if the weapon was coming his way, the boss recoiled in horror from the path of the shiv.

He saw it.

He alone could see it, out of all of them.

Though the back of his mind played with the thoughts of what had allowed his success, the rest of Ursare was active. Though the blade now sat in the falling crossbowman’s throat, gurgling as he died, Ursare charged forward unthinking. With strength that belied a man of his previous condition he lept the desk of his tormentor and swung a punch at his truest enemy. That faintest hint of electricity filled Ursare’s heart and then, in a flash, the shiv was in his hand once more. Hot blood erupted from the wound it made in the man’s cheek, followed by another wound in his neck, one to the upper torso, and many more to come. Ursare stabbed and slashed until his energy was expended, skin painted red from numerous fallen foes. With a loud sigh and with energy spent, Ursare slumped and breathed fresh, clean air for the first time. On trembling legs feeling the aches from weeks of abuse he rose, only to notice a mirror at his side. In the mirror was a weak and feeble looking man, clearly starved and filthy. It was a frail ghost compared to what Ursare remembered, but it was him; for the first time in his memory, he could recognize himself again. On stumbling legs he left out the hall and took the next right, towards the gates he had been dragged through so long ago. The doors were opened and other prisoners stood outside, basking in the insane light of the apocalypse but thankful for everything they had. Many stood with mouths agape, looking at what was before them.

Before them, in an awe inspiring view, ran a river of water. Mist jetted up in all directions, causing a soothing cloud of fresh water around them as the fast running, quick-silver colored stream waterfalled off into the edge of the world. A hand fell on his shoulder and he jolted for a moment, turning to see a familiar, perfect smile. Ursare’s mind raced as he considered all that had befallen him, realizing that all that had been done was a part of him. Even the blade had been his own drive, his own will to survive, the ambition to free himself from his suffering. Shaky eyes, filled with tears, rose from the red shiv to start into the now fully electrified gaze of his benefactor, the transient prisoner.

”Well done, pal.”

“Wh-What now?”

”Anything, my man,” came the reply, an almost humorous ring to his now sing-songy rasp, ”Anything at all.” With that he pat Ursare on the shoulder twice and turned, walking away from the gate and up the hills to escape that dreadful place. Just as he rounded the hill Ursare felt a flash of need as numerous thoughts coalesced into guesses about the true nature of what had occurred.

“Who are you?!” yelled Ursare, “Why did you aid us!?”

That fucking smile.

”Lonn, brother,” retorted the man, his voice somehow carrying across the distance despite his talking tone. Laughter followed, just barely containing his final reply, ”and cause mortals are rad.”

---

Light, dwindling in the darkest corner as monsters and those who have sunk to the level of the same flee ever further from the dark to the last spots of light. Where above in the upper surface world lightning struck and brief flashes still gave illumination even as cold and dark set in so strongly. It was in the heart, the deep corners where heat radiated still from cooling and dying light from the cataclysmic energy of destruction that had befallen the old world.

In that deep hidden pocket where living creatures had long abandoned with the chaos and quakes of the destructing world a coalescent came to be, a formation in that dying light around a single thought of a being not yet born.

No. Not yet done.

Some unleashed thing with the apocalypse or disappearing divinity had sprung forth new hope and new creation. Light sprung forth anew with a new being born in its midst with words coming forth in the after effect of such a creation she spoke, “Golly gosh it's darn cold here!”

Perhaps not the most eloquent first words but firsts rarely are.

She settled in form, clothing and body forming solid even as the radiance only grew stronger in that dark deep cavern, sealed by quake and rock. Black leathery wings and pale skin, glimmering hair of blue and gold. She gathered that light still radiant around her and formed a spear of light. Shining ever greater with power infused as she spoke to herself, “I didn’t come into being just a few seconds ago to be trapped somewhere so boring.

She lowered the spear pointing it at a sealed tunnel and her wings flared outstretched as she prepared to leap into flight, “Even if I have to force my way out.”

A blast of searing high energy boomed through the cavern as she took flight through the mix of plasma and gaseous rock, flying further out of the caves, blasting and melting her way through as needed. She maneuvered deftly, twirling her body this way or that, a half folded wing to change direction or a twist to pass through a small space.

Still it took a while, a lot of melted and vaporized rock, paths carved and traveled, reversed and confused. While light returned it was trapped, still taking time to map and figure out how to move forward or get out. She never accepted that this was there was to see, she knew who she was as a name came to her mind, to put forth her identity.

She was Ze’kelia, and she would not be denied her brilliant lighted world.

Her speed and power scared trapped monsters and underworld beasts alike as she fought and flew and clawed her way forward, her way out.

In truth although she tried a lot, the caves were too complicated and twisted with rock and quake changes, so it left only one option as it seemed the ground solidified.

Boring a whole straight through solid rock was a hard task, but possible, especially if you had the brilliant energy of light to blast through.

Ze’kelia finally flew out upon the side of the continental mass. Into open air and circled around, she pulled out some stone for an outcropping, or created a bit as it were, and rested. Laying back facing upward to sky she closed her eyes even as she had seen. “This world stinks, but I guess here I am. So dark, so pointless, so…

...noisy?”

She heard a strange sound, one she had not heard before, a rushing shushing, a crashing and breaking quiver through the air. It wasn’t an earthquake for one, it came from the air not her outcropping. She opened her eyes and sat up trying to locate the sound. She shot a light back from where she had come from, looked below the outcropping, off to the sides in the distance away from the small bit of cohesive land remaining.

“Huh, it sounds almost like its coming from above?”

Ze’kelia located the source of the sound when she looked up, just in time to be hit with the full force of a new river coming over the edge of the land. So strong it knocked her back to the ground of her outcropping and then soon broke off the outcropping itself!

Ze’kelia was not one for easy defeats, a blast of light to vaporize the water, and the rising up by flapping her wings and once more coming to a rest, this time on the side of the surface of the continental mass itself. She set down with the calmness one would have come to expect from her, this is to say, she kicked half a dozen rocks off the edge and screamed a bit before blasting some light to vaporize tha last bits of water on her before sitting down in frustration and exhaustion.

“It’s always the next thing! Well guess what you stupid world? I don’t agree, you’re cold and dark and I’m gonna make you better, no more darkness! No more pointless unending cold! No more stupid waterfalls out of nowhere!”

With that out of the way, and the world at large properly chastised for its unladylike behavior, she laid back down and with a huff and closed her eyes once more.

“A big rock, no a disk, able to be as bright as I want it, and it could be warm and nice and this world could stop being so darn-”

An approaching stomping caused her to bolt up and open her eyes, two large creatures, one approached fast on three legs, holding a rock. It was many times her size and she had to quickly open and flap her wings to get out of the way in a quick roll.

“Hey! Excuse you!

The creature just roared and beat its scaled and furred chest, gazing back with fifteen, it had clearly lost three, eyes.

“I’m so done with this,” she said raising her spear. “Ha!”

With that last exclamation and bolt of light seared skin and scale and burned fur, leaving lightly charred and burned flesh as what was that roaring creature fell backward as a remnant flesh. The other cautiously approached and dragged it a short distance before beginning to eat its former compatriot. Ze’kelia muttered, “Ugh, this world just keeps getting better and better…”

Ze’kelia had a thought as she sat down again, and she began carving. Or more precisely she began picking up rocks and melting them with light between her hands trying to get the shape she wanted, testing out ideas. Practicing.

She was a quick study, you know, compared to the rocks, the dead creature, and his friend eating him.

Several thousand attempts later she had got it! The perfect defender, servant, a being perfectly designed for destroying mean strangers and building the new world she wanted. A thrower of the sun, defender against threats big and small, smart and communicative too, with a good sense of art. They were to be mighty and big, large tusks to fight and stab and club, trunks with dexterous digits to manipulate and throw as good or better as her own hands could. Four large legs to support and carry its might, large ears to hear, and good but small eyes to see. They would drink water and eat all that this land could make.

She had done countless tests.

“Grrr! Raauggh!” Ze’kelia made the noises as she smashed the Guardian figurine into a smaller one she had made of the creature that attacked earlier.

Countless tests.

And knew that this was truly the superior being, so as the two that had come upon her came into twos, so did she make two of her great Guardians! A new couple and bonded pair that would throw her enlightened power over the world so all could know light and warmth and such clearly good things!

She also, thankfully, remembered to make the actual disk she meant to give them, it was a bit harshly bright so she adjusted it to be controllable by the thrower. One could choose how much of what kind of light, of a pattern or form. Although at its brightest it might be a bit hard to look at still…

She was catching up her two Guardians, they clearly had a strong bond as they kept checking to look back at each other as she told her story, she knew they had such clear affection that wanted to check and make sure that the other was hearing the same tale!

“...and so that’s how I created you two! Now! What are your names, I thought of my own amazing name as I’m sure you could tell.” Ze’kelia paused to smile and give a flip to her hair as she stood speaking up to the two towering Guardians. “Oh! I almost forgot, I’ll make bags that’ll have as much food and water as you need! But don’t be shy about getting any more, too many nasties about. What was I saying? Oh right! Your names!”

Clearly this was of great import to them she could tell, they had to both look at eachother once more before one spoke, “I shall be Ur-Nikatel.”

He spoke with a crisp voice, even as the other spoke soon after, adding a shrill of her trunk to the middle of her name. “And I shall be Ur-Alz(f)elia.”

Now she had let them speak, Ze’kelia launched once more into communication, “Great great great! So I’m gonna fly to that big mountain in the distance, kick whoever hit me with that river, and then give a signal that you two should start splitting up and throwing the Disk of Light between you two. It should be able to track between you two well enough if you give it a decent throw! Okay byeeee!”

With that she took off in flight towards the mountain, a shooting light in the sky leaving the two giants alone together with their magic gifts and the ever so important disk…

---

A new river flowed, bathing the broken land in sustenance. It filled cracks with relief, washed away old wounds and soaked up white ash, mixing it with the mud and earth it broke asunder on it’s mighty trek to the beyond. Naturally, the water flowed into old river beds, choked with the bones of the damned, stagnated by the end of all things and at last, set itself beside weathered shores. More dead things lay upon those old beaches, some buried by the oppressive ash, others chewed to pieces by the hungry. Still more, forever locked in the eternal struggle for survival…

The trees had burned to stumps long ago, the plants had been blackened to a crisp, carried away by ferocious winds, while the very air lingered with a sickly sweet scent. Clouds choked the skies, darkening further as time blurred and passed. The ruins of the time before, now but ancient and decrepit, were the silent watchers of an old friend seen anew. One that now lapped at their structures, promising a sweet relief to become something else, something new. They fell willingly into the depths, causing the spray to fly high and the earth to rumble as the water continued on its journey.

That it did, ever on, but something lingered beside the shore as the water calmed. A presence that had been with the river since is conception from the mountain side. It had watched. It had seen. What had it seen while it watched? The thoughts came in flashes. Dust. Rocks. Dead. Dead. Dead. Water. Twisted things. Old ruins. More dead. Skeletal. Mummified. Ugly. The words resounded with it, for such words it had never realized could be. What let it have such thoughts? What was this… this anger? The water began to churn and boil as it began to feel for the first time. More thoughts flashed by, all resulting in one inevitable conclusion- What it saw was ugly. Deformed. A grotesque amalgamation of all things unpleasant. Yes… Yes...

It knew the world it found itself in was so full of ugliness...

The river began to explode with noxious appetite, hissing with steam and bubbling with violence. What was, was changed within that river of death, etched so full with pain. Brimming consciousness, full of disbelief, full of growing anger, full of want, full of… Need. A need to be. A need to change, to make change. It did not understand why everything was so hideous and deformed and appalling and foul and disgusting. Was this what the rest of the world looked like? It became offended at the mere thought that such disarray and ineptitude could be allowed, much less thought of. It could not- Would not be allowed any longer.

Now was the time for change. Beautiful change. Beauty that it would be the catalyst of.

The steam grew thick as the water reached a tempo. Then within the blink of an eye the water stilled, the steam fluttered away and from the silence, a skeleton rose. Risen from the depths of confinement, it outstretched it’s arms as it hovered towards the shore, water dripping off old bone. As it neared the bank, the ground pulsed. Arcs of light danced from its fingertips towards fresh clay, dyed white by the ash. Like a magnet to metal, the clay sped to the skeleton, nay, the frame, which paused, raising its head to the sky. The clay thus formed muscle and sinew as it raced down the arms, forming flesh in its wake. Slender fingers gave way to nimble arms, forming and molding as the clay took shape. It’s torso took a gracile appeal, one of femininity with small breasts and narrow shoulders. A high waist revealed long legs and small feet. From the neck the clay quickly formed a symmetrical face. Oval in shape, with a small nose, soft lips and high cheekbones. Eyes formed closed, still held above as long, curly locks of snowwhite swept past the shoulders. Her form, for she was a she, was divinely beautiful.

Blood turned to ichor and it coursed through her veins as her arms fell to her side and she descended to hover over the wet earth. When she at last looked forward and opened her eyes, they were of the same paleness but alert. Those eyes fell at first to her feet and she wiggled her toes, then to her hands where she flexed her fingers, her eyes growing wide before she at last gazed out upon a broken land and her lips turned from indifference to a frown, eyes narrowing.

She stood apart. A being of change in a world that needed exactly that. She knew not what came before or what brought about such catastrophe but that whatever had caused such problems was undeserving of being remembered. It was her world now and she would make it in her own image.

For she was Wyn and Wyn was beauty. She was a god given form, this she also knew. The one truth of her existence. She flexed her fingers again. This land would grow to eventual quiet soon, where nothing remained but the dark. There would be no salvation for those that remained living in a world that could not provide. It was such a depressing reality but reality nonetheless. Yet the river proved change was already happening. She could feel it in the air and through the earth. There was hope.

Wyn floated up into the sky, high enough to have a good vantage of the surrounding views. Much of it looked the same but it did not have to remain so. She outstretched her hands over the river and with a flick of her wrist, a great crack ripped through the earth, carving a new path. The water rushed through this new path and Wyn acted further. The land trembled beneath her might. It split apart and cracked, groaned and collapsed as the earth shook and a great plume of dust billowed into the sky. The remains of the old were absorbed, washed away and covered by the waters of Wyn. This was not enough. Divinity coursed through her veins, why be afraid to use it?

With but a thought this time she envisioned what she wanted and let it free. A warm breeze wrapped itself up and around her and the Goddess ran her hands through her hair as she let the land know her power. When the land had at last quieted, Wyn flickered her hand, sending the dust and ash away on a great wind, so she could look upon her first work. A great body of water had formed, stretching as far as she could see. A jewel in a dark world. She descended, taking it in. Sandy white beaches had formed, soft to the touch as her feet at last felt the earth. The waters were calm despite the distant sounds of turmoil, and opaque white, with calm waves that kissed her toes with a feeling of warmth. From where she stood she could see that some of the earth around and within, had not fallen and transformed into the earth. In fact, they now stood as breathtaking vistas, meant to overlook the tranquil waters. Or it would.

A sigh escaped her lips, for something was missing. Something vital to truly appreciate the work she had made. She looked up into the sky, for the first time seeing what sat above and found a moon. Had that been there the entire time? She did not know but it did little to give her light, for that was what she needed most. A source so bright it could touch her sea and dazzle the world with its beauty.

That would be her next step. Wyn looked out over the sea, knowing she would return but something caught her eye. There, in the water. She bade the waves to go around her and as the water stilled before the Goddess she saw herself for the first time. She crouched down, fascinated by her appearance, any other thought slowly slipping away as the Goddess of beauty stared at herself for a time.

---

Of all the rules and regulations of the universe, the truest was always thus: Nothing ever comes for free.

Creation, as the ineffable 'they' would say, is the work of lifetimes; destruction, of mere moments. Both of these statements were equally true, and centuries of supplicants had finally offered enough of themselves to coax the forces of creation into being. Perhaps it was the chaotic streaks of magic that illuminated what could only charitably be called a sky, perhaps it was the radiation seeping into every living thing and reducing it to imperfections upon imperfections. Sometimes the answer to a question was not in a solution, but in dissolution--sometimes, destruction was a necessary catalyst for creation. Whatever the reasons the universe might have had for the current spate of dogged persistence were not strictly relevant, as the defining feature of the raw chaos in that moment was beautiful, ecstatic creation: the birth of something divine.

Ahtziri emerged from the husk of her cocoon like a bat out of hell, screaming and tearing at nothing in particular as sable wings carried her high above the barren wasteland from which she had emerged. It took a full thirty seconds for her to come to some semblance of calm and stop her newly created vocal chords from producing a sound so heinous that it threatened to pierce the fabric of reality itself, and as she hovered in the air with ragged breaths leaving her lungs the echoes of that sound could be felt still. Seconds passed, her feathered wings gently beating against the backdrop of utter cosmic annhiliation in the distance (or perhaps not--did utter nothingness even have dimensions?), and then she was moving again with conviction and purpose. Her clawed feet touched the ground with a resounding thud, and a feminine hand gently caressed the blood and ichor-soaked splinters of wood that had cleaved themselves from the whole once she'd emerged. She bent down to pick one of them up, feeling its weight and its texture in her hands, but stopped suddenly as her flesh pressed itself against the ground.

She could still feel the echo of her scream within the pocked, craggly ground--and then she could feel vibrations that seemed to only grow in intensity, building on their ruinous resonance, and only her godly reflexes allowed her to jump off of the ground in time to escape it cracking and crumbling beneath her. She studied it intensely as she hovered above it, watching how it pulverised itself into fragments, and then pebbles, and then dust--and in but a precious few seconds it was all gone, unmoored from the world, drifting away towards the absence of existence in the distance. The gentle, rhythmic beating of wings was the only sound that remained--and the Mother of Monsters looked into the distance with a sense of loss she could not explain. It tore through her body and flooded her very being, a melancholy twisting and writhing inside her, until she could take it no more and soared inland to distract herself from whatever it was that had affected her so.

---

She flew for hours, scouring the remnants of what once was, and her melancholy turned towards a strangely familiar yearning. Every now and then she would touch down and walk amidst the ruins of civilisations she simultaneously recognised and did not, her serpentine tail hissing and flitting its tongue about the stale air as it searched for something it did not know how to find. Ahtziri's fingers pressed over sheets of torn metal, faded canvases that had once contained colour and beauty and life, and though they filled her with a ruinous nostalgia for something she had never known and could never know they were not the object of her search--she wept a single, silent tear and she took to the skies again to look for whatever it was that she had set out to find.

Hours passed her by once more, punctuated only by the grumbling and screeching of unstable earth that she was already familiar with. Here, at the edge of the world, there was nothing but death and ruin. She turned herself inland and flew in, stopping to look back at the nothingness before her a final time, and let the onslaught of air dry her tears as she flew. She could not rightly say how much time passed before a rabid hissing and snapping shook her from her mourning, her tail wrapping itself around her arm to push itself towards her face. It bit into her cheek, harmlessly sliding off, and pointed downwards towards the ground towards the east--she batted it away with the back of her hand, her lip quivering in momentary rage, before she realised what exactly it was trying to convey and she swooped down towards the ground to check what it had found. Its tongue tasted the air rapidly, pulling itself in a flurry of directions, before the distant sounds of a skirmish began to grow in intensity. Spurred on by her curiosity, Ahtziri flew towards it with all the haste she could muster and soon arrived at the scene of a fight.

A band of three humans (she didn't know how she knew what they were, but she did), armed with crude spears and swords made from pilfered metal and long-dead wood were backing a tangled mess of matter fur, bloodied teeth, and four rabid unblinking eyes into a corner. Its teeth gnashed and it let out a horrific, mewling howl, but despite the display of aggression it was still being slowly moved backwards into the stone ruins of what might have once been some kind of domicile. Though the roof and two of its walls were gone, or had fallen to the floor in clumps of debris, two walls of stone still stood perpendicular to one another--and the creature was running out of space to back into. As soon as Ahtziri's eyes rested upon it, her heart swelled in her chest--she felt love for this broken and horrible thing, a mother's love, and the sheer force of it froze her breath in her chest and welled her eyes up with tears. Just as quickly as it had come, however, it passed--and the love turned to fury, curdling and souring, as the humans advanced upon it once more. She could see the bodies strewn about the place, humans having killed six or seven of these canid predators and the pack having killed double that number of humans--there was no time for thought, no time to process the emotions. She was upon the three in an instant, grabbing the first by its neck and forcing her fingers through it into the soft, warm flesh beneath--with a single twist of her muscles she ripped its head clean from its shoulders in a gruesome display of savagery, taking advantage of the shock to rush a few feet to the side and grab another human by the skull. She lifted him off the ground effortlessly, her yellow-red eyes boring into his with such intensity that only the adrenaline in his system kept him from passing out, and began to squeeze down on his fragile bones with all the force she could bring to bear. It took less time than a human was capable of perceiving for his head to explode in a gory shrapnel of blood and bone, his brains scattered across the bare stone walls like paint.

The last human turned in incredulous shock, dropping his weapons, and screaming at the top of his lungs at the sight. He pulled in shallow, frantic breaths as his hands quivered and trembled, his entire frame vibrating with the exertion of the act and the lack of oxygen he was receiving. Sputtering words tried to make their way past his lips, but his tongue seemed to have swollen to an incredible size and it simply flopped around in his mouth like a stinking, rotting slug--the colour left his skin, and after another second he collapsed to the floor in quiet terror, dazed and reeling.

"My child... My beautiful child..."

Ahtziri turned to the suddenly emboldened creature that was once cornered, crouching and resting on her haunches so as to be face-to-face with the thing. Four eyes looked into hers, and the awful thing licked her face as if it were nothing but a harmless puppy seeking approval from its mother. Ahtziri let out a peal of laughter, bringing it deep into an embrace with her, while her tail snapped and hissed at the quivering wreck of a man that was still blubbering on the ground.

"You do not know what it is to be a mother. You do not know what it is like to see your child hunted because it is different, because it is reviled... but you will."

Ahtziri picked the man up with her tail, its teeth grabbing into his shoulder while it wrapped around his form, and she placed a hand upon his belly with a gentleness that one would not expect from a creature capable of the carnage she had just wrought. A pale, sickly glow began to emanate from her palm, creeping up her fingers like a baleful flame, before settling into him with an ominous purple light. She withdrew her hand and she brought him closer to her, the carrion stench of her almost-foaming breath wafting directly into his face, and pressed her face directly against his.

"You have been blessed by Ahtziri, and no monster will harm you. They will recognise the scent of a mother..."

The man did not think, did not respond, did not blink. Ahtziri tossed him to the side with her tail, letting him go, and the distinct sound of feet running away as quickly as they physically could was heard in the background. The Mother of Monsters turned her attention back to the monstrous thing on the ground, looking up at her with an expression she could only describe as reverence, and she rested her hand upon it. Its flesh began to ripple and undulate beneath the grey-black fur matted with blood and bile, and a howl punctured the air as sinewy wings erupted from the thing's back and its wounded flesh knitted itself back together. Its jaw dislocated and popped, additional rows of razor-sharp teeth erupted from its blackened gums; additional claws sprouted from its paws, followed by additional limbs stretching out from its body until it had eight in total. Ahtziri looked down upon it, and cradled its maw in her hands as she placed the tenderest of kisses atop its filthy, mangy snout.

"Come, Pazuzu. Show me your brothers and sisters."

The village of Lililia

At some point or another Paratiri became very bored of simply creating storms. While she enjoyed the sight she wanted to see more people reacting to it. That is when she noticed how the world was filled with the presence of other gods, which was good as it would be very boring if she was the only god that existed.

The great storm bird set flight towards were many such gods were gathering but at some point became distracted as she in the sky she saw the sight of a very interesting village. It was a big one, bigger than any other she had seen in the wasteland so far, at least thirty people and even some animals. She couldn't help but dive down towards it to see if the mortals here would be more friendly than the last weirdo she had met. The mortals of the village of Lililia in turn were terrorized by the sight of the huge harpy going straight for their homes, many screaming or fleeing, windows and doors shutting while others prayed for the gods to save them from the creature.

"Aww how cute they are praying! And look, so many of them are so shy they hide from me. Calm down little mortals, I mean no harm! I am Paratiri the Storm! Worship me and I will help you, as I am a generous goddess!"

The mortals needed more than a little while to fully understand what was happening. There was little to give credence to what Paratiri was saying but the fact she was not trying to destroy them was enough for them to start to believe that at least she meant no harm. Probably. Goddess or not, she was big and mean-looking enough to be of some use for them.

"Oh, great storm goddess. We of the proud village of Paratiri welcome you into our homes! We have been praying for a solution to our problems, our village is being raided by many dark creatures coming from magical portals in the nearby caves and forests! Many of us have been killed or kidnaped by such fiends. If you could vanquish them, we would be eternally grateful! We would offer you anything you desire in sacrifice, our wealth, our food..." the leader of the village approached the goddess to whisper. "Even human sacrifices if you wish, just saying, the daughter of the Rosery family is looking ripe for a blood ritual."

"Dude what the hell..." the goddess shook her head. "Cough. I meant to say. No need for sacrifices puny, weak, ugly little mortals! I will destroy these fiends for you and I wish in return is that you remember my act of great, and might I say, badass heroism, and forever cherish my goodwill. Also maybe a few statues! A few statues would be definitely nice!"

Paratiri looked around searching around for all the anomalies in the region, noticing there were many. As much as she enjoyed a good fight, it would be boring to have to go in each and every single one of them, and there was the danger one would raid and destroy the village while she was dealing with another one. "So! In my great generosity, I will give you protector guardians who will keep your village safe." she blushed before continuing her announcement. "Just give me a moment, I can't do it right here you know? And no peeking, I WILL smite you, okay?"

The villagers were left confused as the goddess walked away into the nearby forest and vanished from their sight. After a little while, she returned carrying two eggs, which she placed at the center of the village.

"Soooooo, ahem." she sighed, still blushing. "I call forth two guardians to secure the humans of this village!"

One of the eggs hatched, revealing a half woman half bird of athletic body, looking almost like a child of the goddess but with a smaller and more mobile build.



"This is uh... Zephiris! Yeah. Ain't she cute?

The other egg broke too, from it rose a less humanoid creature, a great human-faced winged lion.



"Ahhh? the goddess said in confusion, she wasn't a pro at creating spawns but that was a bit different from what she had in mind. "aaa....zibu. Azibu. The ssss...sphinx. Yeah. Hey there! Good to see you!

"I will serve you with all my wisdom, brood mother." the sphinx said. Zephiris didn't introduce herself as she became distracted with a shiny metal tool a farmer was carrying.

"Don't call me mom like that you are making me feel old and I am not even a day old yet." the goddess whispered. "Anyway! I will be going now, off to fight otherwordly devils. Look after the villagers okay?"

Coilbrywen

The goddess yawned as she called forth another fearsome wave of thunder to fry anything that dared to move in the half-dead forest she was raiding. "Humans had trouble with this stuff? Geez. We will need to set a training program or something, it's just shameful. the goddess complained as a dragon-shaped insect tried to for her, only to be ripped to pieces by a simple blow of wind from the goddess's mouth. This caused more trees to fall, making a weird rip in space-time become visible, in it the goddess saw the glimpse of a strange otherwordly place on the other side.

"Mmm! This should be fun!" she declared as she used her wings to increase the rip size and slip through.

But as she arrived, she felt heavy, very heavy, for once she felt the massive size of her body. The wind in this misshaped otherwordly jungle was also far more rebellious, much of it not kowtowing to the goddess or respecting her authority. "Whoa... A handicap huh? Should make it fun!" and as she said that, she was pounced by another of the dragon-shaped insects, this time it was a real fight, in which Paratiri had to use the full extent of the power remaining in her, wind, thunder, and her talons, to fully bring down the beast. At the end of it... she felt alive, a true battle was finally had! Even in this world, she could still beat the other creatures into submission, the storm was inescapable.

As she fought more great creatures, small shadows started to scutter through the treetops and among the bushes, whispers in words unknown to her. The goddess barely noticed it and didn't care at all after all what could those small shadows do to a divine bird of her size?

The response came soon, as all of the sudden, they, in unison, pounced her. From her hair to her wings, to her legs, and even her shoulders, small furred humanoids blitzed her. Some merely held to her, others outright tried to bite her. "Owie, ouch! You little bastards, I will... ARGH!" as she tried to shake them off, she stepped backward, tripping, and falling over the portal she had come through initially, crash landing back onto her own dimension.

With her powers restored, the goddess called forth winds strong enough to force the creatures off her, down to the ground or crashing against the trees and rocks. "Now... Let me see these little bastards!"

The small creatures were humanoid in nature but clearly not human. All of them had long furred ears and even longer tails. Some were fully covered in fuzzy fur, others merely had it in their limbs and other areas, most had goat-like legs but some had hand-like feet. None of them had died in the crash landing or when being beaten off by the goddess, showing their great durability. Sensing their situation, they soon started to gather in front of the deity, kneeling and kowtowing to her.



"Please! Do not harm us! O great deity! We just wanted to escape that terrible world!" the cutest, fluffiest one among them said, black dotty eyes shining with small tears forming. "We are sorry! We are very sorry! We didn't think this through! We were just desperate... that was such a horrible world we the Coilbrywen were stuck in for so long... and you looked like a ray of hope!"

The goddess winced at those soft tearful words, then she remembered the biting "Aw... Wait. No! You bit me! Many of you did! How would that help you leave huh?"

The small one cringed at that, having to take a minute to think how she would explain that. "Ohhh.... that. Uh. It's a bit shameful to say. It is just that the goddess was so beautiful, posing such a magnificent, shapely body... we lost ourselves a bit. Ehehe. Something so pretty had to also be tasty right? And hungry like we were, some of us lost our mind and bit your delicate, smooth, skin. We are very sorry o great fearsome awesome and majestic goddess. We promise to never bite you again!"

Paratiri closed one eye and focused on them "So... no more attacking me? Will you also worship me from here onward. she asked.

"Sure! Sure we will! You saved us after all!" they all nodded in unison at that.

"Mmm. Fine. Can't blame you, little mortals, for being so desperate. It also seems all this fighting was enough to close down this portal, so that is at least one to go! So we are set. You can stay in MY world if you want. Don't pounce me ever again."

With that warning Paratiri left the forest, going towards the village to tell them of her victory.

"So... what was the name of that goddess again?" one of the Coilbrywen

"Meh who cares." another one answered, smirking.

Setbacks

The goddess sighed deeply "You Did WHAT?"

The sphinx Azibu stared back at her unmoving. "Brood mother. I decided that looking after a creature as unwise as humans were too much of a struggle. I devised a plan to prune all but the wisest of them. I created a little riddle and a test, the ones who failed would be, well, devoured."

"You ATE everyone"

"Well, that isn't really my fault, is it?" she yawned, quite sleepy after such a generous meal.

"Zephyra! Why did you allow this? And Azibu, don't go to sleep! Did you chew on them? Is anyone alive? Gods be damned I was set up to set my shrine here and you do that to me you little uncivil cat thing"

"Me?" the winged woman said. "Oh me! Did something happen? I was collecting these shiny things."

Using the tip of her wing bones to massage her temples the goddess sighed in pure annoyance. "It's fine Paratiri, breath deeply, you can fix this. We will call some storms later to deal with this stress." she whispered to herself.

Fifty-seven crystals floated over the area around the World-Anvil. All of them containing chaos and destruction taken from the land and crystalized. Some looked like they contained a gaseous substance. Other liquid or plasma. Some glowed, others were totally inert. Uwné was relentless as he hammered away at the fifty-eight crystal. It would take a long time until the world was pacified. But it was labor he was willing to perform.

As long as he wouldn’t be disturbed. He heard it first. It was a sort of shrieking noise. That then turned to the sound of raging fire. It came from above. Uwné looked up. Through the smoke clouds, he could already see it. Or rather the burning ball around whatever came from the Great Beyond. His eyes turned wide when he saw it coming straight from him. With destructive speed, it came crashing through the air. For a moment magic pulsed around it but it still came falling down.

A strong gust of wind pushed the meteor upwards. It flew over Uwné’s head and crashed a bit further away. The god of creation carefully limped his way towards the object. When he was close he could still feel the heat dissipating from what looked like a huge ruby. Curious, confused, and a bit concerned he poked it with his cane. Nothing happened. The shape was odd. Too angular, too straight. Deliberately made. Whatever it was before, magic had altered it when it came crashing into the world though. “From the heavens now as well?” Uwné asked himself as he looked up. As he did, he felt forlorn somehow. Something was missing in the skies. That would be something to work on after the crystals perhaps. In the distance, another streak of smoke plunged through the clouds and crashed into the world. Then another and another. Some broke apart as they fell. Others let out deathly shrieks of a creature in pain. Whatever was sending the objects had to be cruel. To send one over and over and over again. Only to watch them transform by what Uwné now considered the protective shield of the continent he stood on. Assured that the world was safe from invaders from the beyond, the god of crafting returned to his work.

That changed when he felt the air itself shudder and groan. Something pulled on the very rock and stone from above. Uwné looked up again. He saw something titanic hurling through the heavens. Consuming magic. “No… No!” The god shouted, finishing the ninety-seven crystal with a final smash.

“I will not let it happen.” He said as he raised his free hand. From beneath his feet, molten rock and metal seeped through the tiny cracks of the ground. The flows twisted around each other each time producing a closed lotus flower. The outer sides of the petals were made of nacre. Soon on the barren stone all around the World-Anvil over a hundred of such lotuses had grown. Just in time. Uwné saw something crashing through the world again. This time it wasn’t transmuted. He could sense many metals. Iron and gold and copper. None of it made sense. But it instilled a fear in him. The invaders had weakened the Continent’s magical shield.

Then his worst extraterrestrial fear became real. Something larger than the objects before came through the clouds riding fire. It shifted and changed. Controlling its descend until it pierced the clouds and rejected its shell. High up there floating over the land was a diamond-shaped thing that radiated power Uwné had only ever felt deep from within him.

“This world has enough to deal with already. Return where you once came from!” Uwné shouted and the very winds carried his voice. The lotuses bloomed revealing the silver inside of the petals and the golden core. A finger-thin beam of light shot forth from one of the flowers. First harmlessly hitting the side of the diamond. Then the light turned blazing hot in an attempt to pierce the shape and destroy it.

The blue spotlight on the invader at first continued its roaming when the small shot hit, the impacts causing only ripples on a thin barrier protecting its outsides. Only when the stronger beam hit did it react, flailing around wildly as the heat caused the entire glow around its perimeter to sputter out at once. Then a great glowing shield unfurled in front of its spotlight. Which meant it was still facing the entirely wrong way. After a fraction of a moment it swung round and placed the quarter sphere of a barrier, thick blue and partially translucent, in between it and the fire beams and, in doing so, the machine discovered Uwné.

The blue light of its single eye shone down upon the god like a spotlight, illuminating the anvil and surrounding area as the new barrier absorbed the fire, and the heat damage they had done rapidly wiped away from the surface of the machine by an unseen hand. Yet it did not lash out immediately, instead seemingly observing the god from on high as it fixed him with its unblinking gaze.

“Begone!” Uwné shouted. The other lotuses bloomed open. Over a hundred thin beams of light aimed at the floating Diamond. The energy shot was not of heat but freezing cold now. Mist enveloped the thin beams. For a moment there was snow but that quickly melted away as it fell too far from the beams. The god of Crafting hoped it would be enough to break through whatever protection the invader had and knock it out of the sky forever.

In response, the shield flickered and then quickly changed color to a warm red, and continued to absorb the lotus’s strikes.

Then a grasping hungry field appeared along the start of the beam, reaching out towards the lotuses but failing to reach them, petering out only a short distance from the machine. Then it turned off and the spotlight moved, bringing the barrier with it and briefly exposing itself to the cold rays. It seemed to flinch, and then the invader put the barrier back in place and left it there this time, before scanning the landscape and then finding what it wanted. Far away several large boulders floated up off the ground, wrapped in a blue glow, and were then hurled at the lotus garden.

Many fell short, the toss scattershot and almost clumsy but some aimed true. “No!” Uwné yelled. He took two steps limping, supported by his cane. Then shot forward into flight. Smashing himself into one of the flung stones. It shattered upon impact and stone showered down. Then he flew into the next and the next. Every single one that would have destroyed the lotuses was pulverized by self-sacrifice.

When the last stone was destroyed Uwné kept floating in the air. “Leave this place now!” The god shouted again as he waved over his lotuses. All of them began to slowly rise up from the ground, spreading out in the air. Their beams started to fluctuate. One moment they were hidden in a self-made mist, the next the very air around them burned.

It was enough. Still floating in the air Uwné gritted his teeth. For a second something pulsed over him. For a moment revealing a form made of nebulae of all colors. “I will not let you take this place. These people. They have suffered enough!”

The barrier too, fluctuated, shifting from blue to red and then back again, chasing and then catching the rhythm of the beams as a glowing green line formed across the eye.

”yehsofomarias rheanreas ransre ter x fasd djna” the thing echoed, the line worbaling like the depiction of a waveform as it emitted garbled tones and white noise until it snapped into meaning screeched in a poor mimicry of the human tongue run through crude degraded wires, circuitry and heavy compression ”There’s nothing out there!”

Stones rose all around it as it spoke but instead of futility soaring forth once more smaller beams shot out the side of the craft and struck them, bringing them together, beginning the process of molding them into something new. Vaguely humanoid forms, towering in size, rapidly began to coalesce out of the raw materials it had raised up.

For a moment Uwné was taken aback when it made the weird sound, and even more so when it talked in an actual language. For a second he felt compassion and wanted to lower the lotuses again. But then it grabbed the stone and started to mold it into what he could only assume would be golems.

Golems to invade the world with. “Cease your invasion!” Uwné said, his own voice sounded distorted at first. “Cease it now or be destroyed.” His voice now sounded deeper, impossibly deep and low. He spoke with the voice of something titanic in shape. Power pulsed across his skin again. His core – as the god of crafting – exposed itself. Radiating pure divinity as his True Form was almost unleashed.

Meanwhile, the lotuses had kept floating upwards. A swarm of silverly gleaming flowers now hung between the ground and the black clouds. Their beams shifted from the main shield towards the golems being made in an attempt to destroy those now.

”You cannot force me to leave the only world” the machine stated simply, its voice less maddening than before but still heavily plated with artificially.

The shield dropped as soon as it stopped being focused and the construction of the golems seemed to intensify as a result. Many were blown apart by heat or cold or both, but the rest formed into metallic angles of death, unfurling great wings upon which blue flames flared.

And then promptly dropped from the sky.

The Golems smashed into the earth in a rain of metal as the eye of the machine glanced around with what might have been frantic horror, only for many of the machens to haul themselves off of the ground, hoist their weapons, and charge, a touch unsteadily, across the broken wastes in a wave of steel towards the god and his anvil.

Again Uwné felt a moment of compassion. It was looking for a place to live. That was only natural. Could this continent not be a sanctuary for all life? Even if it wasn’t born here?

“If you had come in peace I would’ve welcomed you.” Uwné said. His lotuses focused on the golems marching towards his most holy of sites. “But you came as a conqueror. Assailing this land.” To add to his point Uwné flicked his wrist. The large ruby drone he had retrieved before was flung towards the middle between the golems and the lotuses. “You started this war. I shall see it to an end if I must.” Uwné spoke not with malice. Not with hate or joy. There was only sadness in his voice.

And when he spoke those words his form rippled once more. This time, it exploded as well. It exploded in a storm of colors and celestial heat. It exploded into the base stuff of pure creation and the gleaming stars that formed within. He looked faceless yet his visage revealed endless possibility. In his right hand, he wielded a hammer made out of the stuff of suns and he was ready to use it. His titanic True Form revealed itself.

It visibly flinched back from him as he unveiled his true form. Despite his great size, however, the invader was larger still as it hung in the sky, and so it recovered quickly, staring down at him.

Two titans stood with their armies ready for war, a war the world might not survive.

Then the light of the machine glanced down at the ruby. Back up at him. Then back down to focus on the ruby for a longer moment and then back up to him. Its armies suddenly faltered

”That is a probe” it stated. ”was a probe” it corrected itself

The silver lotuses kept shooting for a bit longer, but when Uwné noticed the armies had stopped, he ceased as well. It would appear a tentative ceasefire was reached. Somehow. “What’s a probe?” He then asked. Before he just assumed it was some projectile lobbed at the Continent.

”A probe is… one moment let me do this properly” there was a brief pause. The machine’s vocalization was getting a lot better, only slightly tinged with artificiality now ”’A probe is an unmanned and unintelligent spacecraft designed to be launched from a vehicle in order to scout distant locations. Probes have limited maneuvering capabilities and rely primarily on its initial launch for speed. Useful for remotely surveying worlds, asteroids or other space phenomena via fly by. However the probe is not suitable for in-atmosphere scouting as it is incapable of surviving re-entry or navigating within it’...” it said, clearly reading, complete with looking up and slightly to the right at nothing while doing so, before focusing on Uwné again. ”In hindsight I should have asked that before using them,” it admitted, managing to inject some emotion for the first time, in this case, sheepishness.

Sheepishness Uwné mirrored. “Ah…” The gasses that made up his body dissipated around him as the stars flickered out. Revealing underneath all of that his first, mortal form again. “A scout.” He probably should’ve examined the clump of ruby closer. “I suppose… yeah that would… yeah.” The god said as he mentally went over some thoughts. All gears now neatly fell in place. Even though Uwné could only fully understand about half the things the big Diamond said.

“Well… I think in that case we got off on the wrong foot.” The god said. “I am Uwné.”

”It did not help that I did not prepare a communication system, or consider how my investigation would appear to those below. I apologize.” it said. Below it its army had turned around and was gathering before it. ”I am... One moment” it said, flicking its sight down onto the election of machines and activating the field it had failed to reach him with earlier, which rapidly de-constructed the robots and pulled their resources up into the floating machine.

”I am called Explorer. Apparently” It continued as if nothing had happened.

“Explorer. That sounds more like a job than a name, doesn’t it?” Uwné said. “So do you intend to explore this world?” He continued as he looked around. “Or what’s left of it…anyway.” He added quickly, realizing in what a state the Continent was in. It had been part of a greater, lush world before. The god of crafting knew that much. The explorer, wherever it came from, was probably sent out to explore that world. Not the sad remains of it now.

“I’m sorry that you came all this way for a world as broken as this one.” Uwné said solemnly.

”I suppose it does. Or a title. For a name name let’s go with... Exo” it decided, before taking another glance around the broken remains of the world ”We work with what we are given I suppose? Also I’ll admit, I am not entirely sure how I got here or where I am from. There is, as I said (rather poorly I’ll admit), nothing out there. Just a ring of debris circling this continent within which I appear to have lost my memories, and then beyond that nothingness. Forever.”

”Perhaps I came through one of those gateways that seem to be part of the current mess? Or there used to be things out there and I left them when they stopped existing and came to the only thing that was left. I am unsure.” it theorized. The machine had floated closer as they talked so as to reduce the amount of shouting going on.

The confirmation that nothing else was out there stung more to Uwné than he had thought. Deep below he knew there should be so much more. The foundational building blocks of existence should be out there. Trillions of stars. Great shapes of creation.

“That’s possible,” Uwné said as the Explorer – no, Exo – talked about his origin. “I might have come from one of those portals myself. I don’t really remember anything until I was standing here, in an ashen plane. I think this used to be a forest.” As if answering his prayers the god of crafting heard a rumbling far off in the distance. Then water came raging from the edge. Carrying with it all the filth and dirt it had picked up along the way. It had fallen into some old riverbed and followed that course again. Until it reached the void coast and dropped down into nothingness.

The whole phenomenon made Uwné smile. “Seems like I’m not the only one trying to repair this world.” He said as he watched the water flowing, before turning back at Exo. “So what will you do now? Remain a giant Diamond shape hovering over the world? I’d imagine that would make exploring the caves below hard.”

”It seems not” Exo agreed with interest as it watched the event unfold with him, before replying to his question of size, ”I have machines for the places I cannot go. Though doing things in person has worked out better so far. I will have to think about it, see if I can perform that transformation of yours in reverse. But that can wait, there is still plenty to see up here.”

The machine ceased its scanning of the water and returned its gaze to him ”I feel like I still owe you more than an apology, Uwné. I have made you spend time and resources you could have directed towards your task.” it said, ”Is there anything I can do to assist you to make up for that?”

“You owe me nothing.” Uwné said as he waved his hand, dismissing the issue altogether. “I would, however, like to ask you a favor. As you can see, I’m pitifully immobile at times.” He said as he tapped his hip giving him the limp walk in his mortal form. “But travel and exploration reveal interesting things of the world. Interesting substances. I have no doubt that you’ll find many rare metals, gems, fabrics, chemicals, and other materials. Bring some to me, if you would. I might be able to craft some tools to aid your exploration.”

”That I am more than capable of doing. Infact, let me begin right away” Exo said, before raising their eye up, ejecting some of the material that used to be part of the golems into the air in front of them and then forming it into two stacks of metal bars, before lowering those down to offer to the Uwné.

”These I gleaned from the remains of a large and aggressive creature that came from one of those portals that opened up in the ring I awoke from. One attracts the energy that transformed my probe into ruby, the other reppels it. I hope you will find them useful. Those gateways likely hold the key to many more wonders in equal numbers to their dangers which I intend to investigate along with this world.” they informed him

“Attract and repel magic?” Uwné said as he let a hand run over the first stack of metal. Even now he felt the magical force drawn towards it. How strong was it? Could it be made stronger? Weaker? What would an alloy of the two do? Would heat alter their properties? Would it work forever or would there be a limit to it? “Fascinating.” Uwné said, completely absorbed for a moment by the metal. Its uses will be myriad for sure.

Then, far behind Uwné yet still close enough to see it, lava violently exploded into the world from a newly made crack in the land. More noxious gasses joined the atmosphere. Uwné’s almost childlike enthusiasm faded as he looked back up towards Exo. “I think I should return to my work first. Before there are only rocks in various states to examine for you. It has been a pleasure meeting you Exo and I hope we will meet again soon.”

”That would be a sad state of affairs. It was interesting to meet another. I hope I will do so again,” it paused for a moment and then asked ”If I do, would it help if I directed them here, to this area you are working to make safe?”

”I would like that so very much.” Uwné said with a smile and then he limped back towards the Anvil.

”Then I will do so. Till we meet again” it said, bidding him farewell.

The lamplight of the great machine left him then, as the wandering explorer departed, drifting away seeking to find all that there was to find and see all that there was to see, leaving the crumbled shell of magic resistant metal and the carcasses of the golems destroyed before they had even been made behind. A memory of a battle between titans that ended in mutual understanding.

Though on his way Uwné stopped to hold one of the floating lotuses in the palm of his hand. It was pretty big in his one hand though. “What am I going to do with you?” He asked, then he looked up again. His divine senses pushed beyond the cloud layer to see the vast nothingness Exo had promised there was. “Yes, I suppose this world could use a little light. A little hope. Drift off, little one.” Uwné raised the lotus up and it continued to lazily fly upwards. Together with most the other lotuses. Untouched they flew through the clouds to meet the vast black expanse. They flew higher and further still. Spread out over the whole continent. Until from the surface, if you could look through the clouds, you could only see them as tiny silver specs on a vast, black canvas.

But some remained to lazily drift through the air around Uwné. He waved over the earth around the Anvil crumbled and vanished. The emptiness was soon filled by some water the god of crafting took from the nearby flowing river to fill it up. Then the flowers drifted down again, to rest upon the water. Like their kin high above they too glowed with the silver light of stars.

---

It had been some time since the goddess had set about trying to help restore the land in some capacity, going about and seeking to bring a new cycle of life and death to the land that would bring about nature and a more hospitable place to live. Of course with the atmosphere being in its own kind of issue, and a storm moving about, there was only so much that could be done at this point in time. Even so she at the least laid the seeds of a proper cycle of life and death, things and plants and so forth that would arise at the right time when conditions had been improved enough. Rain from the storming was at least better than nothing. In that vein it wasn't as much detailed work as she'd been hoping to achieve, and it only covered so much land thus far rather than all of it...yet it wasn't all she'd done so far.

She'd even visited the Temple-Fortress once or twice during this time, where she'd begun to regail the mortals with teachings about things such as the cycle of life and death and war and peace and so forth. She'd even begun to teach them a little some inventions, such as the water wheel and some of weapons she'd prepared at the Temple-Fortress, so they might make better use of the tools and weapons she'd given them to protect the paradise they now lived in. It was a basic first-step, however, and after an attack or two by bandits trying to enter the paradise or seize it she'd given a few of them an introduction to basic gunpowder and working with it as well as its dangers. It was all simply for the sake of the location itself, as well as those who now inhabited the special place in her service. Still, in her work with the land so far she'd go and do a bit more to shape the landscape about the large paradisiacal valley than in other places...all part of the plan to make her birthplace that much more secure over the long term.

More importantly, however, in her work she'd run across some strange spaces where time and space seemed 'inconsistent'. Wibbly-wobbly time, errant space, the kind of apocalyptic instabilities that arose when this chuck of creation became a chunk. That, in her mind, was far more of a concerning matter at the moment than more work to revitalize the land. Without a consistent flow of time and space, there was nothing it wouldn't affect if not taken care of in the long term. Cycles of seasons, day and night, and so forth would not be stable either, which being under her purview was something of even more note.

With this in mind, she'd returned to the paradise once more after scouting out the problems a bit. Here would be a perfect place to centralize all of her work on the matter, making it simpler to work on...unlike trying to revitalize the land at the moment. This was simply a matter of increasing efficiency in this work, however, not a matter at all of limitations to one location or another. But if she wanted to put in the raw time to fix time-space for the long term betterment of this remnant of creation, she felt taking the time and investing the extra effort would be most suitable.

And so she began her work, creating a floating shrine in the air high above the fortress-temple from where she could most intensely focus on her work. It was almost egg-shaped, if not a bit wider, gilded in great amounts of gold and white porcelain-colored exterior parts and had giant windows facing out every direction. Truly a divine abode, it existed above that which was mundane whilst letting her new followers know she was still with them. Admittedly this was more a side effect of her choice of location, but all the same she began her work with intense fervor. Her hands wound about the weave of time-space as she stood in the central room of this shrine, her power stretching out across the land and working to help shape, stabilize, and give time-space in this remnant of creation a proper consistency.

Past. Present. Future. She would work to keep them all laid out in a clear, orderly fashion, and seek to observe them in her quest to manipulate and bring order to it. 'Layers' of the past, memories engraved into the land of all things before, would be set in their proper places, the present would be more clearly defined, and the future would be open and uncluttered. Space would be stable and stilled, rather than remain in that constant state of flux. She would master it, she would retain it, and she would embrace it all within herself. Such was necessary, and so it would be done.

"Wind back, oh back, oh hands of time,

And forward, and forward, and forward we'll climb,

Flow, oh flow, oh flow, let the flow be smooth and so settle,

Yea unfold, unfold, unfold, like Arira's grace-

-as a flower's petal."

The Mother of Monsters

Azlria stared at the corpse that lay in front of her, a human, one of quite a few. All around her lay corpses, remnants of some sort of transport caravan, those trying to flee the nightmare they lived in. No matter now, they were all dead, large claw marks were across their wagons, and many of their bodies had been torn asunder. But in truth, Alzria did not care about them, it was what had left those corpses and their ruined caravan that she was more concerned about, one of her children no doubt, if the utter destruction was anything to go by.

She searched the area, looking for any signs of where the creature must’ve gone, her gaze soon came upon two small cages, torn asunder by viscous claws, next to them she spotted tracks, both bird-like and cat-like in features. Strange, Alzria would not help but wonder what sort of creature this was, and whatever had brought it to tear these cages open, while everything else seemed, relatively, together. Yet, she could not dwell on it, she had to follow these tracks, there was no telling how long she had, this hellish world was no place for her children.

With her wings unfurled, Alzria took off, following the tracks throughout the blasted landscape. Soon, she came upon what she was searching for, a creature, half covered in feathers, with a mighty beak, wings, and bird-like claws, and the back of a lion with the tail and paws to match. It looked up at her with both fear and hostility, just behind it sat two smaller versions of it, huddled up against the back legs of the larger creature. Her mind confirmed the being’s name: a Griffin, a parent at that, no wonder it had torn apart the cages, it was trying to get back its children.

She softly put herself down in front of the creature, it was then she was the reason she could follow the tracks, the griffin’s right wing was broken, clung close to the body, unable to move. She raised her hands, slowly kneeling down,trying to make herself less scary towards the being.

”Come now, i'm not a threat, i'm here to help you.”

The griffin seemed to calm down some, lowering its stance towards her, slowly drawing closer to the goddess. Alzria in turn kept still, letting them take stock of her, before letting their two children come forward too. She gently petted the majestic creature’s golden head feathers, slowly bringing her hand towards the broken wing. The griffin was apprehensive, but when they felt the soft healing glow emanating from Alzria’s hand, slowly healing their wing, they quickly returned to their softer tune.

The crunch of dirt behind them drew both of their attentions, the griffin swiftly backed up, feathers rising in anger. Alzria meanwhile quickly stood up, turning around to see what had arrived. In front of her, barely three steps away, where three humans, all emancipated and haggard looking, wearing tattered robes and cloth. They held broken and rusted weapons in their hands, and their faces were filled with horror and fear as they stared at the goddess. Fear, that sweet sweet fear.

The head of the humans stared at her, speaking, his voice wavering “Who...who are you?”

Alzria stood fully up, her twisted wings unfurling and her tail snapping forward, staring at the humans. ”I am Alzria,” she thought for a moment, before a devilish idea formed in her mind ”Savior of mortals.”

“Sa..savior?” The humans looked at one another, clearly unsure of how to respond. “You, you don’t look like much of a savior.”

She made a ‘tsk’ noise ’Come now, weren’t you taught not to judge based upon appearance? Just because I appear like this, doesn’t mean I'm not here to save you.”

“But…” He paused once more, taking a quick peek behind her, towards the griffins, before turning his attention back to her once more. “Then, why don’t you show us? Show us how you intend to save us!”

”Oh, I will.”

She Smiled

They screamed

---

Alzria adjusted the robes on her once more, they were tattered things, but they fit her enough, the bloody cloth over her face and legs helped her appearance somewhat, at least she didn’t have to worry about her lack of eyes scaring off anymore mortals, the rest of her could do that just fine.

She left her thoughts and turned her attention back to the griffin family she had saved, they sat next to the slimes and their pool, the children lovingly playing with the slimes, who seemed to enjoy the friendship. The parent Griffin looked at her once more, bowing their head in thanks. She smiled, now this felt good.

Yet, her mind pressed her once more, she knew the cavern couldn’t fit all of her children, and it was doubtful all of them would get as long as the griffins and slimes did. She needed to fix the cavern, make it more livable, expand it, make it fit for her children to live in, and ensure they could have their own spaces.

So, she set out to work, she expanded the roof some, creating alcoves and landings for flying creatures, particularly the griffins she had just saved. She carved out more of the walls, creating tunnels that led to other caverns, areas for more creatures to live in, able to be changed to fit their preferences, she also created small pipes like tunnels, feeding air in and out of the caverns. She stopped by the small pond, picking up the slimes and letting the griffins head to their new nest, before cracking more of the ground, expanding the pond into a sizable area of water, then gently setting the slimes back down. Finally, she filled the caverns with bioluminescent fungi for light, and various types of fungi, insects, and smaller creatures for food, though she knew some of the large monsters would need to leave to hunt, so she ensured the entrance was accessible, though still hard to spot from the outside, which was helped by its already mountainous and out there location.

With the preparations complete, Alzria looked at her new creation, her sanctuary, a place for her children to live and endure. And she felt a sense of pride and joy, but, she couldn’t focus on that for too long, she had more children to save. And so, she left the caverns once more, eager to find more and more of her children, and lead them back to this home, a place where even nightmares could feel safe.

And where she could gorge upon all that fear.

Astella stood in front of I’Iro, a full head shorter and looking up into her face with a grin. She just stared, with no attempt to say anything whatsoever.

The other goddess stared back for a moment too, unblinking but showing a sense of curiosity. Eventually she couldn’t help but to question the situation. Yes? Do you still need help with something?

Astella nodded, paying no attention to Snowy as she jumped off her shoulder onto the ground and went to drink water. ”Got any plans, Iro?”

The robot goddess shook her head. There is nothing in my schedule at the moment. I came to this continent seeking shelter above all and now that is secured. I had no bigger plan outside of exploring this world and understanding things that seemed strange to me. That said. There is this branch of some sort of tree-like entity that I planned to take care of as a memory from a continent long lost you see…?

The goddess searched for the branch for a moment, even the strange readings she got from it seemed to be gone from her sensors. Astella grimaced a little. Ah a code 404. I must have dropped it… in the crater... she looked over at the crater-turned-lake as it continued to be filled by the geyser of water, the overflow crashing down the mountain as a continent’s worth of water returned to Galbar. The land below, once easy to see in the crispy dry air, was now hidden by massive clouds of mist formed by the massive waterfalls from Mount Divinus.

At that sight, I’Iro pouted. Well. Finding it again seems quite unlikely now. she complained.

Astella sighed and rested her hands on her hips. ”Listen! Don’t be sad, I’ll help you look. It couldn’t have gone THAT far, right? Maybe it got stuck in between a few rocks somewhere close to here. Wanna go now?”

The waterflow is forming a storm at this moment. It seems too hazardous at the moment. I can wait. It is a very unique plant not native to this continent. I will look for it myself once Nalmepror is rested. That said. Thank you for the offer. You are a very pleasant company Astella. Snowy too. she looked to the side just in time to avoid Astella’s beaming grin, to the land nearing the lake. It seems we met here due to how central this area is to the continent. Perhaps we could set this mountain as a meeting place?

”I like you too, Iro! And as usual, yes that sounds like a great idea. What did you have in mind, specifically? A big hotel, maybe? I know I’m dying to lay on a proper bed.” The short Goddess said as she slumped over and groaned.

A hotel? Well that is surely an example of a meeting place I just feel like function wise… it might miss the point. The gods we have met so far have been fairly diverse so we should accommodate for that. she turned towards the lake, observing its beauty for a moment. We should also make it imperative that the fountain is protected and preserved as it is such a key feature of our survival. As such, my proposal is as follows.

Focusing her mind, she created a hologram in front of the goddess, a flickering light-constructed replica of the summit of the mountain. From there, she designed a peaceful garden around the lake and to the east of it, the side with the most land, she created a central meeting area.

Astella tapped her chin as she watched the hologram expand and become more and more complex.

Around such an area she created all sorts of zones, from single buildings to corridors to underground tunnels. Each took a different color to represent the possible gods that could create them. I believe this is the best design for peaceful coexistence within the mountain. What is your opinion on this topic?[/color]

[color=salmon]”I’m sorry I’Iro, but...”[/color] Astella took a deep breath and began tapping her foot on the ground, [color=salmon]”That… Looks absolutely amazing!!”[/color] She laughed and jumped through the hologram to grab onto I’Iro’s arm. [color=salmon]”Let’s try it out, alright? Do me a favour and make sure Namel watches Snowy. She might try to follow us even after we walk onto the water. Ready?”[/color] Astella asked, bringing her hand up as if she was about to snap her fingers.

Once again I’Iro was surprised by the suddenness of Astella’s approach. She wondered if she would need to create an algorithm to deduce when the goddess would grab her away like that, though she couldn’t think of any mathematical method to properly predict that. [code]Ah! Oh… Uhm. Sure. Let us. Go? Yes. Nalmepror? Ne Aque Noun Snouu. after sorting that out she turned to her fellow goddess and also readied her finger, aiming to snap them in unison to perform the first step in the construction of the meeting hall.

”And… Go!”

The two of them snapped their fingers at the same time, and suddenly they were standing in the middle of the location that had been a hologram just a few seconds ago. Everything, down to the smallest detail, seemed as if it actually had been there for hundreds of years. The wind changed, the sky wasn’t as saturated with mist, there was light, there were an abundance of plants… It was just like the hologram but alive and tangible.

Astella chuckled quietly and shook her head, ”We didn’t have to actually snap our fingers, but I thought it’d be cooler if we did. This isn’t the real thing, by the way. We haven’t built anything yet. It’s just an illusion, so that we can experience the place first hand and figure out all the smaller details before starting the actual building. We wouldn’t want to spend years building and landscaping just to end up with empty, massive floors inside every structure, you know.” She explained, let go of I’Iro’s arm and walked over to the nearest structure. It was the central one that I’Iro had shown her in the hologram. She ran her hands against the smooth stone, cringing a little as the moss on top of it stuck to her fingers. ”What do you think?”

I’Iro smiled at Astella. It is very impressive that you can create environments like this from within your own mind. Such levels of mental consistency are extremely rare and I doubt even the gods can create environments out of thought like you can. When I first noticed your domain as a goddess was over illusions I feared we might have had trouble communicating however it seems that it is quite the opposite. she was not as much of a fast observer as her fellow goddess was, she took a moment to observe the whole environment in all of its details. It is quite amazing. This feels like it will work as the central zone. The meeting ground of gods.

Astella grinned proudly with a slight tint to her cheeks. ”Thank you! Yeah, in terms of looks, it does work as a meeting spot for gods. I think we should plan for future expansions too, as well as separate structures and sectors meant to house different gods’ staff. Embassies, if you will. Dibs on mine being a cool tower! Yours can be next door, maybe like… A very shiny pyramid? With lots of lights. There could even be a giant platform on its side for Namel to land on.”

A pyramid? Hmm. It's a possible shape. For my area I was not thinking anything overly complex as I would prefer if nobody felt intimidated or lessened by my architectural choice.

”Oooh, I didn’t know my friend was this humble.” Astella remarked with a smirk, but quickly shrugged “Well, other than that, we just need to make sure we know what goes where inside the central zone’s big structure.”

And so the two of them got to work at properly designing the different floors and areas within the central structure. I’Iro would often suggest simple things. Maps. A fountain. Perhaps a wall of information so they could always come to the most logical decisions as not every god was built in with an impeccable database such as her. While Astella took the duties of making everything comfortable and easy to navigate, as well as making everything look as pretty as possible. She wasn’t very good at picking the right furniture or plants, though, but she did her best.

In the end, they had spent a good chunk of time in the illusion. So long, in fact, that at a certain point Astella had even forgotten that the place wasn’t really there.

So, when the two had come to an agreement about the way they’d construct the soon-to-be Divine Meeting Spot, Astella cozied up to I’Iro and snapped her fingers again. In the blink of an eye, what had once been a complete reality now became nothing more than a ghostly landscape overlaid on top of reality. It was intangible and barely visible, but it served perfectly as a guide.

They, of course, were standing on top of the Lake, having walked onto it without realizing during their time in the Illusion.

”Aaaand… There we go. All ready to start. Though, um, I admit I don’t really know where to start. Did you have any plans as for how to actually go about building this thing?”

I’Iro nodded, of course she had some sort of plan to deal with the situation. Yes I do have a small plan. But we will need to set up a way for other gods to help as I am still just getting used to my divine abilities and you seem to be the same. The great advantage here is that your illusion gives the perfect amount of information for automated work and as gods we can create a supply of materials with ease. So. I believe I can create workers who upon being given your illusion will work to make it into a reality.

The dream goddess had to think about how she would create a medium to supply such information, soon she came up with an idea. In her hand she formed a scroll, but not a simple parchment, it was a black scroll made of some sort of shiny synthetic material. May I touch your forehead for a moment? I believe with me as the intermediary I can transfer and transcribe the information of the illusion to this scroll.

”Sure, I’m always ready to have people mess around with the things in my head. I wouldn’t be a good Illusionist if I wasn’t.” Astella winked and made sure her hair was swept back while tilting her head up slightly.

What a peculiar predisposition. Nevertheless let us start this process. with a gentle touch I’Iro rested one hand on her friend’s forehead while the other held the scroll. Astella felt the machine goddess’ touch go from its typical cold to an increasing warmth as her eyes started to shine. A “whiteness” or shine would overtake the typical darkness she saw with her eyes closed, I’Iro meanwhile seemed to be unmoving outside of her fingers, which slowly unfurled the scroll between them. And done. This was surprisingly clean to perform. I was unsure if this would be the result or if something unpleasant could have happened. she explained casually.

Astella blinked a few times and shook her head, smiling nervously after I’Iro explained the possibility of things going wrong.

With the information in hand, she wrapped the scroll again and placed it in a copper cylinder she had created. Inform me. Do you think you can keep this illusion somewhat permanently in this area? Furthermore. Could we erect some sort of… guidestone? Something our fellow divines could gaze upon and understand our project in this area?

”For sure, I could create an item that embeds the full illusion into other people’s minds once they touch it. This transparent overlay we’ve got going on right now will not be visible to anyone whose souls I haven’t touched, though. I imagine that’s what your scroll is for, right? They read it like a blueprint and then they can see the ghostly overlay?” Astella scrunched up her nose.

It is a blueprint. Correct. It is however in a language compatible with machine thought. to exemplify what she meant, I’Iro gently walked over the water towards the shore, where she created a small spider shaped synthetic creature. in which she placed a copy of the copper cylinder she had created. With another touch on the robot worker, the goddess filled its material and resources needs so it could start working on the project assigned. My idea is to make more of these, and allow the gods to supply them with materials as needed for the project.

”Huh. Efficient! Let me take care of my bit, then.” Astella said with an enthusiastic nod before walking onto the shore and creating an unassuming stone pedestal, upon which was an equally unassuming, pageless, leather-bound book. On the cover of the book was a simple set of instructions, embossed in what looked like silver.

Open this pageless book in order to experience a projection of what the Divine City’s Central Plaza will look like after construction is finished. The projection will involve all 5 human senses and feature a realistic weather model and day/night cycle.

Close the book gently and slowly in order to dismiss the projection and return your perception of this area to normality.

Please provide construction materials to I’Iro’s spider constructs in order to ensure a speedy construction process. Thank you.

-Astella & I’Iro,
Founders of Divine Friends Incorporated.

---

---

The molten blood of a dying world dripped from the craggy underbelly of the shard, what little remained of its core sloughing away into the endless abyss of starless space. That shattered expanse of once-infinite possibility was now marred by transient rifts in space-time, opening and closing like gaping wounds 'pon moving flesh. Far above--through the infested Underworld and the slaughter of the Dead Queen--a pale race of men clung desperately to life. Scarred and burned, these children of the old world fled through the craggy earth of a vast mountain range, one of those few which remained after the great fracturing of their planet.

Step-after-bounding-step, they traversed that treacherous landscape, their feet well-callused against the stone of the soaring peaks, their bodies clothed in furs. One fell behind, then lost their footing and slipped, but not one of them turned to help her. Breathing hard, she pulled herself up and started off, glancing only once behind her as a tearing screech shattered the sky and ground against the grey stone of the mountains. She took a step, turning away from the unseen horror that pursued them, but it was too late.

A wave of intense ecstasy washed over her mind, bathing her consciousness in joy and unending rapture. The shrieking roar echoed through the mountain pass, but to her, it was a low rumble, a sensual moan, the groans of a man and his lover. Her eyes rolled back into her skull, and she fell to her knees, unable to stand against the unending onslaught of emotion and sensation. Emerging before her--not at a run, but with a steady swaying step--was a woman. It was as if she had stepped from a story of the elder days, her skin lustrous and shining, her eyes full with longing and satisfaction both. No single color defined her gaze as their eyes locked.

Soon, their lips followed suit, and she who had fled lost herself in the embrace of the lustrous woman. Time passed, but she could not tell how much. The world bled away as thoughts of running--of fear, and cold, and pain--seeped through holes in her mind as if she were a broken flask. Soon all sense of her body became a memory, and in the moments that followed, her name dissipated not into memory but into nothing. Still, as her consciousness unraveled and her body went with it, she felt only beautiful sensations, knew only of pleasure, warmth, and connection. Satisfaction, desire, then satisfaction again.

Then she-who-had-ran became she-who-had-been before--in an instant--they became she-who-was-not.

The lustrous woman turned from the bare ground upon which her once-lover had bared herself en full and so been lost to the world, but there was no satisfaction in that ever-shifting gaze. In those eyes, there was only ecstasy and terrible unending hunger. Far off, perhaps several miles away, one pale man turned atop a cliff and looked upon that lustrous figure. The monster screamed, and its voice was pure eroticism and comfort--be it of flesh or mind or spirit--it was terrible and without limits or bindings. The lustrous woman dissolved, though the eyes remained, and what emerged was a vast flowing serpent of flesh and effervescent mist. Every movement was like the groan of a thousand creatures, each in the throes of sensual completion.

It howled, and it shrieked, and then it rose through the air and streaked towards the man.

He ran, but could he and his people do so forever against a horror that did not tire, that would never stop, and could not be fought or reasoned with?

So, with this considered, their survival was...unlikely. Nonetheless, the tribe kept going, descending the craggy peaks at speed. In a day, they reached the base, and in hours more, they found shelter in a vast cave. There, truly desperate for a reprieve, a man called upon forces that once his ancestors had understood. Mind steeled, he bent his Will against the world, and with the weakening of laws and boundaries, with the leaking of unreality into its midst, he managed an act of Magic.

The cave mouth collapsed behind them so that finally they could rest. Slumping to the ground, sweat-slick across the 'Caster's cold, pale skin, the man peered into the utter black of their brief haven. He heard only the sounds of labored breath. They had been lucky this time, for it seemed nothing lurked within this cave. A good thing, as they had no way out...at least until he had rested. For a time, that's all there was, but eventually, someone proffered a light--a sacred thing in these times--and let it banish for a time the darkness of their temporary home.

"Thank you, Fein," a woman's voice whispered across the cave. Fein smiled, his heart no longer beating hard against his ribs, his breathing slowed, though he felt a soreness in his throat and a deep cold that had long since settled upon his bones. "Of course," he said, but his voice was hoarse and strained; his Magic took much from him, almost too much. Each time it was worse. A man approached him and crouched, meeting Fein's eyes, "You are close," he said, worry evident in his demeanor. The words were quiet and restrained.

Fein gave his elder brother a smile, "No, Vham Ane, I will be fine." He said it loud enough so that all heard the confidence in his voice, despite its hoarseness. Vham frowned but nodded and took a seat beside his brother. The two embraced, for warmth and comfort both; others did much the same, and soon all but one of them was asleep.

The light began to dim, a sign that many hours had passed him by. Fein, who did not sleep, watched it closely and listened to the howling of the wind that was muffled by the cave-in that he'd wrought. Though the others slept and so were unaware, he knew that the voice of the mountains was not the only thing shrieking in the night beyond their oasis of light and safety. Though his people had long since laid their faith in the Old Betrayers to rest, Fein--in an act of quiet, hopeful desperation--said a prayer in his mind.

'To any who might listen. To any who can hear my call. To those of you who might exist beyond, still watching, please help us. Help my people; my brother, my granddaughter. We have lost so much,' Fein thought, and he knew he was pleading, knew how pitiful and weak it sounded, even in his own mind. Still, Fein did not stop, and soon his Will was behind the call he'd sent to the Void beyond.

'Please, help us survive. Do not let us die like those before us. Do not let our world die!'

The mountain shook, and so his tribe awoke. Fein's eyes widened, and their light suddenly dimmed to nothing, then was extinguished. Eyes turned, seeking anything in the coal-black of the cave. Hands scrabbled upon dirt and stone, seeking out the source of their light. People rose and moved to the collapsed entrance, pushing against the rubble and dislodging tiny rocks.

Despite his people's panic, Fein remained still, staring. For, hovering in the air across the cavern was a glowing effigy of otherworldly light, which limned a twisting symbol. It regarded them, and the weight of its gaze--all at once--froze everyone in place.


Men and women shook as, slowly, they turned to regard the Icon that had revealed itself to them. Gradually its light expanded, unveiling the true majesty of the impossibly vast cavern. That mountainous cavity appeared almost to grow outwards in every direction without end, its only limit the entrance they had once ruined. A woman, Fein's granddaughter Rha Alia, touched the stone of the wall and realized that it was smooth and without blemish. The collapse had healed, and the grey stone seemed to have been replaced with jet-black marble.

"Who are you.... What are you?" Rha Lia ventured. Fein peered at her, pride and fear at war within his eyes.

The entity said nothing, but the symbol's radiance advanced, overtaking each and every one of them with its brilliance.

Within their bodies, inside their minds, a name echoed.



The Eye spoke then, for that was its nature--to see and to be seen.

"I am the Deity of Form," it rumbled, and suddenly each human in the cavern could feel its divine presence in their bones.

Enraptured, Fein let out another quiet question, "Can you help us?"

The mountain laughed, the cave-mouth opened, and outside the shrieking beast of sonorous flesh and Ecstatic experiential essence--writ in flesh and mist--evaporated into nothing. Where the horror had been there remained only writhing air, which howled, as if in pain, before it gradually grew still.

An elder of their people spoke up, tears streaking down his face, his voice thick with emotion. "You have returned," he wept, falling to his knees.

Somehow, though its shape never changed, the Eye smiled. "I never left," it said, and strangely Fein felt relief wash through him. For the first time in generations, his people would not have to flee the Beasts of Dream and Flesh. Perhaps, finally, with the aid of this being...they could fight against the scourge that those horrid beasts were upon their remnant of a world. In his heart of hearts, he hoped that this was true. In time he would know that it was.

Wandering the wastes

"Boss... are you sure it was a smart idea to come to this world? Sure it isn't a collapsing magical rift like the one we have been stuck in for generations, but, hmm... it's a bit, well you know... Trash." Eimhir Pure-Voice complained, sighing as they still hadn't found a proper untouched forest to properly settle in this world, it had been two days since they had left behind the goddess and ventured out on their own in search of a new home in this new world.

"I will admit that the lack of a sun is discouraging, but look at the bright side, if everyone is dead, that is fewer people to come bother us." the elected boss of the group said. While initially, they were a group of 30, they decided to split into three to maximize their survivability in these wastes. "Furthermore Saraid Longtail has created some of the best endless bottles we have ever seen, each of these holds four times the water, so we are well supplied in that at least."

"Yeah, but Longtail went with Farseeing's gang, all we have is good old Gormal Black-Hair here, whose hammerspace ability is a pitiful two times bigger, and even then half of the bottles he enchants implode." a forager called Cailin said in a snarky tone.

"Why that is quite rude, do you have to stab at me like that? Isn't this land being painful enough to us." Gormal complained.

Another bickering session was about to start but was quickly interrupted by the whistle of Roswita Fastswinger, who was the only "monkey-legged" of the group of 30 arrivals. She was invited to the "elite" group formed by Farseeing when the 30 divided into gangs of 10, but had denied such a proposal by the fact she was a close friend of Cailin.

"Oh dear berry bushes, please tell me you found a forest," Eimhir begged the scout.

Roswita shrugged. "Not exactly a forest you see, but I saw humans, they are going, um, towards that direction, past those buildings. They didn't seem too dry ya know? So probably have a lot of food, it's not a proper forest but it's our best shot."

The group gulped at that, it was their best shot, but it was also worrisome that they were betting their little lives on that.

The folding brush

"ROSWITA! ROSWITA! ROSWITA!" the goat-legged cheered as they threw their scout up and down in commemoration. Her plan had worked and they had found a somewhat decent forest to settle in by following the human group. The issue was that they were right by a human village, this could be big trouble. But there was no time to think about that right now, they had to prepare their new home first.

Elder Adelinde did not share their excitement, however. "I fear this forest while better than the wastes is worryingly lacking. There are no bees to work with for their wax, no berries, no flowers, not even spiders. What a terrible world this is."

Eimhir Pure-Voice stopped her happy moment to smile at the elder. "Don't worry Elder, I will prove today that I am the best Biomancer in a generation! I will turn even the hardest roots into succulent trees."

Adelinde nodded but then shook her head. "I appreciate your hope Eimhir, but there is a bigger issue, the human village, I worry that they will do something to us if we are found out."

"Aw come on, we have not even done anything bad to them! No child stealing or eating, no cattle raiding, no making weird symbols in their crops."

"But people in this world are desperate. And desperate people are often violent."

"I feel like we are acting in prejudice, let's try an amicable approach." a younger Coilbrywen said, that same fluffy one that had dealt with the goddess.

There was an air of doubt in the makeshift camp of the newly arrived species, but they agreed that perhaps they were being a tad too paranoid.

"Eimhir, could you change this dandelion flower for me? Make it so the puffs are more durable. I have a device in mind which I want to trade with the humans." the fluffy one proposed, Eimhir nodding and getting to work. She placed both hands around the flower, a green glow and sparks started to form around it.

"I will have it ready by the arrival of the next morning." the biomancer declared.

The next morning, a human family of foragers started their daily routine of going to the forest to grab branches, roots, and herbs. It was a mother, a daughter, and a father. Exactly the sort of public the fluffy one had expected! She looked down at the little brush in her hand and smiled.

She waited in a grove, calmly brushing her fluffy hair and humming, needless to say, the family was quite shocked when she saw the Coilbrywen. "What in the gods' name is that!?" the father said in shock at the weird humanoid.

"Oh me? I am just a child of the forest," she said with a giggle.

"Your hair is so fluffy miss." the little girl said.

"Why that is because I brush it every day with a very special brush made of forest flowers." she showed a little box to the girl, and the child was kid confused at that. It was some sort of box, not a brush. "Oh, I see you are confused, let me show you." the Coilbrywen continued, she took away the lid of the box revealing the folded hair within, then by placing the lid of the box back into the box but upside down, the hairs of the brush would go up as the lid moved against them.



"Whoa! That is kinda cool!"

The fluffy one nodded and giggled. "Yes! I could be willing to trade it if... eh!?" her attempt to initiate a trade with the humans was interrupted when the father suddenly grabbed his axe, the towering figure looking menacingly towards the Coilbrywen.

"Husband what are you...?" the wife questioned.

"Silence woman. You, forest beast, didn't you hear my daughter? She wants the brush. Give it to her, and maybe I will be nice enough not to chop your head away."

The Coilbrywen gulped in shock at the man, soon engaging in her pitiful teary-eyed mode to see if she could convince him. "B-but... I built this device with great effort, I spent days searching for the flower and nights preparing the brush. You can't steal it..."

"Are ya calling be a thief goat-legged freak? Give me the brush. Now. And don't ever come near my family or the village ever again."

The fluffy one became too bothered and simply threw the brush at the man who was hit in the head before he could catch it. "Why you little...!" this time it was his turn to be interrupted as more of the Coilbrywen showed up, slinging stones at the man, forcing him to retreat in pain along with his concerned family.

"Are you okay young one?" Elder Adelinde said. "I knew we would need to keep a watch on you. I hope you are not too bothered by the brush. You did spend the night crafting it after all. Let's us go back to the camp and leave these humans alone, hopefully, this is the last time we interact with them..."

"No." the fluffy young one said. "This is just too much, I managed to talk down a bloody god from smiting us, who in all of the existence does that BRUTE think he is to threaten me like that? HUH?" the fake tears were gone, now there was just a very angry scowl. "He is going to pay."

"Don't threaten violence child, it is not our ways."

"Oh no, that man has to suffer, but I want something more," she smirked.

Singing cow

Things hadn't been going well for the village.

In the ruined wastes, water having just returned not too long ago, they still hadn't established a stable source of food to feed themselves, the area was mostly grasslands, too poor for crops but decent enough for grass, cows had once been domesticated in this region and after the worst of the apocalypse was gone they had managed to recover a few. They were the backbone of the village, the meat and milk provided were not only useful for the diet, it was a key source of trade with other more fortunate villages.

So anything happening to the cows was always a sign of great trouble, and that was exactly what had started to happen in the last few days. Right after her husband stole the comb from that goat girl and came to the village crying about how he was attacked without reason by the "forest demons". The village had made some halfhearted efforts to look into the forest, but most just took it as yet another tall story from a man who always spoke of slaying lion-dragons with his dad in his childhood.

Since then, things started to change. People, herself included, started to see spirits when resting time arrived, shining green, going all over their fields and vanishing before anyone could go near them. Then, the cows... became weird. Their milk turned sour and sticky, and their breath, by gods their breath became insupportable. It was a foul smell that forced the village to make them graze far away from their homes. Even their meat became hard to chew and gained a bitter flavor. Traders went from regulars to the village to outright avoiding it.

When she slept, she heard whispers in her head, coming from the roof, from the windows, "return it" "thief" "sinner". Her husband was having the worst of it, it seemed nature started to conspire against him, just the other day he was assaulted by a very angry squirrel, and it seemed birds gained particular aim when it came to hitting his head with their droppings.

"Husband, you should... return that haircomb. We shouldn't have stolen it from that girl..."

"Oh you really believed that little goat-legged thing didn't ya? Typical really, the monsters always aim for the weak-minded. Listen woman, I used to hunt things in the wilds with my da. Demons, fiends, aberrations. But I guess you are right, I thought about our girl and the brush and decided to just take that and not cause a scene in front of her, I should instead have beheaded that little bastard I should. End the trouble right there. In fact... Yeah. It's no secret. They must be behind all of this."

Without further thought, the man ran towards the center of the little village. "Brothers, listen, I have figured out the source of this curse. It's those damned forest fiends who attacked us! They must be poisoning our cattle and plan on killing us all when the darkness comes!" he declared. The villagers didn't have much of an option but to listen to the yelling man, and as desperate as they were, maybe, just maybe, this once he was telling the truth.

Then they heard the weirdest sound of their life. The mooing of a cow, but it had tone, it had a purpose.

"A liiiiaaarrr is amooooooong you! A thieeeeef of what is nooooooot his"

"His foooooouuulll aaacts bring the laaaaaannnddd foooouuuulllneeesss"

The villagers were in shock to find a cow not only singing, but also doing something somewhat close to a dance. It was surreal, to say the least. And the lyrics, of course, they started to think about what could it mean, someone stole something?

"Hey, Tark, when you found those fiends, you didn't... take anything right?"

"Hey... didn't you daughter, show up with a fancy comb these days? The one that is all shiny and new."

Questions started pilling up and soon the wife broke under the weight.

"Yes it is true. My husband did this to us. The forest children didn't attack us for no reason. No, Tark threatened them to not come near us ever again and outright stole that hairbrush my daughter has been using!"

From away, on a rooftop, Roswita giggled. "Well would you look at that, the plan has worked. Guess I should prepare the folks back home for the humans coming to say they are sorry.

The humans didn't lose any moment, as soon as they pieced the scene together they banded against the man, and after beating him, they forced him to march along with them to the forest.

"I... I am sorry." the man said, tears rolling after the beating he was given. "I shouldn't have stolen your brush. But... you shouldn't have brought forth this curse... OUCH!" he was punched in the head for speaking up to the "forest folk"

The fluffy one simply shook his head. "We didn't bring any curse, you brought it with you, stealing is wrong, especially from us, who are connected with this forest. When you stole from us, the land enacted its revenge upon you."

She then smiled as she got the brush back. "Thanks for returning it, but wouldn't you like to keep it? I have a trade pro..."

"No way ma." the little girl said. "That thing is bad luck and made the land mad with us!"

"Yeah, we won't bother you ever again forest folk, we will always ask and pray before taking anything from the forest and we will never take anything from you ever again." a villager said before they all hurried away from the Coilbrywen.

At this, the fluffy one sighed. "Oh damn it all. These humans sure aren't bright. There goes my trade opportunity."

"Well, at least they won't bother us and leave us in the forest, we can focus on making food for ourselves now."

"Yeah but I still feel bad, once I come of age, my title is going to be Fails-at-Deals at this rate."

"Oh? We were thinking God-Appeaser but if you prefer that~" one of the older Coilbrywen teased.



Coilbrywen wiki page
https://divinus-mkv-encyclopedia.fandom.com/wiki/Coilbrywen

“And they go,” The nameless deity wearing the body of a man remarked after Astella retrieved her animal, much to the grumbling disappointment of the golem Brugh, and made her way back to I’Iro. He looked over to Lonn, still beside him, and asked simply, “What about you?”

Despite his original intention to be well and truly gone from this place as soon as possible, Lonn couldn’t help but remain. The newcomer, whoever he was, had proven far too irresistible a focus for his current attention. So the disheveled, shoeless man with a killer smile simply plopped himself down on the edge of the crater, watching the lake overflow and certain points. When at last the nameless god spoke, Lonn flashed his smile with every last ounce of his power used to keep himself from seeming too pleased with himself.

”Me? World’s wild, friend. If I was a betting man, and I am, I’d say the world’s not long for this uh… world, as it were, without a little extra effort.

”Agreed,” The man-god met Lonn’s impossible grin with a flawed smile of his own and added, “More than that, and I don’t know about you, but I don’t plan on letting this place kill me. Figure I might go looking for a place to start, or maybe a plant?”

Lonn let out a pleased cackle and slapped his hands together, rubbing them into one another to really grind that grime in. With that he patted his knees and stood up, shaking off the dust and looked down out across the world with a hungry gaze. That smile, for a mere moment, seemed a little more hostile than it had before but still gleamed with all its majesty that simply couldn’t be hated. A smile like that couldn’t HELP but be benevolent, right?

”A plant, eh?” enunciated Lonn, playing with the sound of the word on his teeth. He knew what they were, of course, it was just an interesting word. ”Hahahahah, Plant. Yeaaaa… Now you’re speaking my language, buddy. World’s our oyster, pal, and it’s up to us to keep this puppy kicking! Let’s go find ourselves a plant!”

With his assertion complete Lonn hopped off the small ledge he’d been sitting on, toes catching good traction on the dusty outcropping. With an authoritative point Lonn thrust a finger down the mountainside, pointing towards the path where a river flowed. Like a lighthouse Lonn’s smile flashed and his sparking red eyes locked onto a landscape full of potential.

”And I’m betting there’s one thataway~”

“Then what are we doing here?” The man god eyed Lonn and challenged his grin with one a little less interesting, but no less self assured. He ran at the edge of the mountain and jumped, reaching out to tear a slab of stone off the precipice as he went. Before hitting the side of the mountain the nameless deity, silently known to his equals as the God of Defiance, brought the slab of stone he’d captured under his feet and met the slope surfing. As he vanished in a cloud of dust rocketing down the mountain his voice cut through the air, “Coming?!”

Lonn’s laughter that followed the God of Defiance down the hill first was explosive, each staccato laugh thundering out like bombs. In one moment Lonn had confirmed for himself that he had found someone worth a little extra attention and all manner of opportunities lay down the road. Confident that he had nothing to worry about in regards to this new found brother in ideology, Lonn took one step back and took up a javiliner’s posture. With a concerted grunt he hurled the contents of his empty hand forward. In an instant his body exploded into crimson light, flashing down the mountainside and leaving a burning red afterglow in his wake. The lightning bolt that was Lonn hurtled past his man-god comrade, roaring as it went, and the adventure was well and truly begun.



“You’re fast!” The God of Defiance observed enthusiastically as he crashed to the ground before a squatting Lonn, all but detonating the rock he’d been surfing and showering riverside with jagged fragments of stone. “But,” He added with an affected shrug, ”My way’s more fun.”

Lonn’s transient state had returned and once more he looked the part of a slightly homeless middle aged party goer. The edges of his hair looked as if they’d recently been on fire and the amount of soot that dusted some of his features seemed to match the description. Several of his physical features, particularly the exact positions and angles of bones, had changed during the trip but Lonn seemed to pay it no heed. His smile, though, was entirely unaffected. A pleased wave seemed to show his sign of assent, only to be followed up with a far more verbal assertion.

”Almost certainly,” came his partially manic tone, standing to pat off some of the black caked onto his clothing, ”Next time.”

“And there’ll be one, but first... The man-god’s smile flattened and he trailed off as his eyes began to scan the ground around them before fixing on a seemingly blasted patch of dirt to his right. His smile bloomed anew as stepped over to it, ”There you are.”

A tiny shoot, barely even free of the ashen dirt, shrunk under the god’s attention. He casually swung his foot over it, ready to stomp it into the nothing it sprang from, and questioned the juvenile plant, “Are you going to let me?.

For a moment it merely began to visibly quiver, but as the man-god lowered his foot it truly began to move. Spurred on so it grew faster than anything ought to, breaking free of the soil and moving out of the way of the god’s threatening foot in as many branching directions as it could. Soon a thick web of spongy green strands spread out from the empowered sprout, racing across the blasted field and seeking out the safety and life of the river at frightening speed. The strands weaved in and out of the dirt, and as they dipped in they turned from voluminous and soft things into hardened roots. Thick, woody, and able to hook into anything the roots of the spindly cord like plant were bred for a dying world and thus found no difficulty breaking into the dead soil and churning it as all manner of flora had once done. It was only once they fanned out into the flowing river that the tough roots began to splinter, shedding off their tips in the water so that they might grow into new fibrous mats of green elsewhere.

Seemingly gratified with his work the man-god stepped out of the small bubble of barren dirt around him and onto the wide mat of plantlife where he sunk his toes in. With a proud grin he commented, “Stubborn as me. Should keep our fancy new rivers from washing too much of this place over the edge.”

Though he didn’t let the God of Defiance see it, Lonn stared at the growing undergrowth with raised eyebrows. He was impressed, to say the least; frankly, he hadn’t even considered what he was going to do with the plant. The Red God nodded slightly, head bobbing in approval, as new strands of fate were weaved before his very eyes. Here was the potential to do so much more than just ride the wave of the apocalypse, but instead create a future that would keep on giving. Mortals, after all, did not do well in these harsh climates and them dying off fast from eating each other was going to get old real fast. Pearly whites flashed as his visage returned to his resting Lonn face.

With feet that had never once been blessed by the feeling of plants, Lonn took his first step onto the spongy flora. His eyes glowed a baleful red as his imagination ran free with opportunities. Nodding as his deity-friend addressed him, he dropped to a low squat and picked up a small rock knocked loose by the growing plant life. Power belied by the gangly hands that withheld it surged through into the stone, Lonn squeezing the stone into powder, flakes, and grains with contemptuous ease. Lifting the handful of detritus to his face, Lonn blew hard and from his lips came a storm of crimson. Before his eyes the cloud erupted in all directions, warping with red light as they took to the wind as crimson seeds. The final pebble he snagged between his thumb and index finger, eyeing his handiwork.

The crimson seed throbbed with life that made Lonn giddy, practically bursting with potential. With one thumb Lonn pushed the seed down into the ground and covered it over, giving it one last little pat for good measure. The seed blossomed and sprouted, rapidly growing into a seedling and then a fullbush. Blood red leaves sprouted and flourished into full life while chunky, tuberous looking roots began to slightly surface pit . With that Lonn tugged one from the dirt and tore it in half with his hands, revealing a starchy, potato-like, reddish meat on the interior of the cardinal fruit. A pleased look overcame him as he tossed one half to the God of Defiance.

”And these should keep men from doing the same.”

The other god caught the bisected fruit and regarded it with appreciation, especially once it began to fizzle and brown just so in his hand. Still steaming, the man-god brought it to his mouth and took a bite. “Mm!” he spoke as he chewed, “Now that’s an idea. One too good to let you have all to yourself.”

He dropped what bits of the fruit he hadn’t eaten onto the ground, and smeared them with his foot. Kneeling down he held a hand out above the mess that seemed to grow cold. The humid air from the river condensed on the man-god’s flesh and water dripped down onto the crushed fruit until little white orbs started growing out of it. The orbs bloomed into huge puffy balls, suspended above the ground by long, branching pyramid like stalks. Most stopped their development there, but a few grew had their orbs grow fibrous and hard before popping with violent cracks and unleashing wispy clouds of dust into the cool wind.

The god of defiance plucked one orb as large as his head and took a bite out, chewed thoughtfully, and reluctantly admitted, “Blander than yours. Oh well, at least it’ll be there if they need it.”

Lonn patted his hands, knocking away bits of starchy meat and dusty powder. A pleased shrug was all the response that was needed, with no interest whatsoever driving him to flex his success. His eyes flashes from left to right, observing as nature slowly began to rejuvenate itself; another step in a long route to repairing the world.

”I’d say that’s a good start, eh?”

”We might get to live after all!” Lonn’s counterpart quipped. The other god fixed his eyes on some point in the hazy distance and added seriously, “But I do have something I need to do next. Alone, if you wouldn’t mind?”

Lonn chortled as a devious gaze locked on that of the man-god, showing Lonn’s truer nature in a way he had previously disguised. He could imagine quite a few reasons why the unnamed deity might seek time on his own and Lonn himself no doubt felt quite similar. There were things to do, problems to solve, and plans to set in motion.

”Don’t fret, buddy, I get you; you and me both. And don’t worry, I’ll be seeing you again real soon. I think this is the beginning of a wonderful relationship.”

As Lonn turned to leave, he laughed.

Habode sighed as he noticed where he was. Once more, his old home, Hanging Bird Hall. The faintly lit corridors are surrounded by little square rooms on both sides, originally these were open but the residents had built makeshift walls of scrap metal and wood boards. That is where they lived, in the wings of the bird-shaped structure. The central area, where you had to descend through stairs, was where they tried to grow whatever was edible enough. Of the many ruins encased in cocoons of metal within The Fallen, it was one of the most peaceful ones and it even opened up to the surface at times.

That memory as it was brought him a sense of unease and disgust, he had moved on from that life as a squatter in some centuries-old building built by who knows what. He hated the Bird, he hated The Fallen, he wished to never return. As these feelings took over his mind, his dream became worse, now the halls of his hometown were empty, everything they had built, the shanties, was now gone. The people, gone. All that remained were the cold walls made of smooth rock-paste, as he called it. And those empty box rooms on both sides of the halls. Just him, no other human in insight.



At least not a living one. There were... them. The faceless. Gods, he hated those bastards. The first time he learned how to swing a bat he crushed a few to dust. All the elders loved to tell horror tales about those things, humanoid in shape but cold, not like statues, as they were too light and empty inside. Some say these were the people who built this place, zapped into stone by the angry gods, the fact so many of the faceless were found with clothing made some believe that. He thought it was all bullshit, but in his dreams, they followed him, they watched him, they moved, and if he got too close, they grabbed him.



Escaping the faceless, he entered the tunnels, ah the tunnels, the core of The Fallen, and its lifeblood. When he was young he and other boys would explore the minor ones despite their mother's warnings of dangerous sadistic gangs and untold monsters lurking down there. When they became adults, they were expected to dive into the tunnels, despite the sadistic gangs and untold monsters.

Why? Because the runnels led to ruins, and ruins led to the most precious treasure of The Fallen. True wealth was not in the precious metals, not in the stocks of water, not in the scraps of food, no, what the villages of The Fallen fought for was only the most essential of all things:

Light

The tunnels protected from the disaster above, even the earthquakes seemed to do little to their metal shells. But in turn, without light, they were stuck in darkness, and the darkness was terrible. People would rather go days without food than days without light. So the villages had to send forth their youth to go gather light as it was found in The Fallen. In crystalline stones.

The white ones were the ones most commonly found, very faint glow, but it was light. Then there were some rares one. The green ones, faint sickly green light, only the desperate used them, as the light was cold and yet it caused their skin to burn. Some weird ones like the dark purple stone he once found which was barely light. And then... ah, the most wanted, the thing that could a beggar become king in a day, and then be stabbed a thousand times by a thousand different criminals, the golden stone. He had only seen one of those, his group found it, by that time he had left his village and joined a gang, but the sight of it, it gave him hope, as the light of the stone was enough to sustain a few crops and could be the line between survival and death. He almost felt guilty enough to want to steal that stone and bring it to his worried mother back home and his baby sister, but he was not suicidal, and even if he escaped, they would have gone straight for his village and attacked it.

Habode now found himself too deep down the tunnels, gang territory, way beyond the villages. He wondered why he had joined a gang, why he had left his family. It was just natural for an ambitious young boy, it was also fun, there were so much death and drama, violence, it was distracting from the terrible fate they were set in, and if you weren't in a cannibal or worse gang, well, the memories were almost not too haunting, most people you robbed just let you take their things in peace, and they never cleaned any village or house they raided.

Looking back, it was all so dull, it was always the same thing. Gangs rose, became too big, and then imploded. Sometimes some degenerates would find a lost room with some cache of weapons and then there would a whole year where they would take massive sways of The Fallen for themselves eliminating entire gangs and villages, then their little toys started to break apart one by one while the number of enemies they made had only increased. The ending was obvious.

There was only one gang that had escaped this cycle, he called them The Cold Feet. Fuckers. Arrogant little bastards. They were brutal like any other gang, as dumb as any, but oh, they had a backstory. According to these delusional freaks, they were not simply descendants from the people who built The Fallen, they were the very people who built it. When the world started to first go to shit countless eras ago, they were encased in cocoons of ice to wait it out like bloody cowards.

The shadows of "Cold Feet" members, lurking through the vents and catwalks, started to approach, bastards. In his dream, he had a scavenged gun though, one that never broke after five bloody shots, and he could take them down like they were rats.

What he hated the most, was their bloody excuse on why, if they are the masters of everything, they are as inept when it comes to opening doors and safes, messing with the cables, or using weapons. Hell, they can't even bloody read. In fact, why can't they make the weapons and kill every enemy they have? Well, you see, according to the snobs, they 'lost their memory' over the eras they were gone, only a few glimpses, enough to support their claims, remaining. If it was not a lie, it wouldn't mean anything still, who needs ancient masters straight out of the ice if they are as useless and clueless as the squatters, but it was a lie, and he hated it.

He hated it because he hadn't thought of it, it was genial, and it was the reason why those he called "Cold Feet" had survived longer than any gang so far. There was a myth, a foundation, an eternal quest given to newborns from birth. They were not hopeless squatters' surviving, they were vengeful spirits of the past, out to reclaim all that is theirs.

While other gangs broke, they persevered, they trained, they amassed resources. There was a sense of guilt in going against fellow gang members, who they called brothers, family. They couldn't just kill their leader, it was not honorable, they had to be better.

He was pretty sure these delusional bastards would slowly, bit by bit, become the biggest cats in The Fallen, if that place had not been flooded to hell and back when the waters returned to the world. He hated it, because of his envy and his desire to be out there doing something better with his life, but, at least, if they were ruling, their honor or whatever, would have meant fewer raids, then his mother would have been....

He sensed something out in the corner of his eyes, quickly taking out his amazing, unbeatable gun, he turned to face the figure, it was... a faceless? No, she had a face, but the stare was as cold as the faceless' one, it bothered him so much, that he fired, but for the first time in his dream, the gun broke, crumbling to dust. The figure looked surprised for a moment as the whole dream of The Fallen broke apart, and he fell into the darkness below.

---

"GODDMANIT!" he woke up kicking and screaming, his hand flew to his side in search of some weapon, but no gun or sword or even knife was to be found, only the bed and his little room in an equally small shack. He was no longer in The Fallen and its dark corridors, he was in Cloudy Hillocks, the sky above him glowed faint red.

" 'nother nightmare brother?" Maydly entered his room with a smile and the smoked leg of some sort of creature. "You slept through lunch, the hunters arrived from another monster raid, I hope you enjoy griffin leg! Cut it myself from the carcass they brought" she added with a simple chuckle.

He nodded at her. "Thanks, sister. Oh, and I got some of that worm-earth you asked for, found some in my scavenge hunt."

Her eyes shone with joy. "Oh did you!? Great. I am sure the little amber slapping will enjoy it." she hummed.

"You still looking after that thing? Damn. I don't see how you find it pretty. It's so... twisted and weird, and it smells bad. Like the depths of The Fallen."

She puffed her cheeks. "Well, I found them just as the waters first arrived. So they surely must have been a sign of goodwill, right? Plus, it's soothing, you really should pick up some tasks which don't involve killing things brother, maybe it would help you with those dreams."

"Not botany though, taking care of plants... reminds me..."

Maydly gasped and nodded. "No, I understand. Take your time. I just want you to know that... I am thankful for all that you did, even if we are often bickering, you are my brother, no matter how much of a numskull you are, I will always be here."

He didn't know if he sighed or if he smiled at that.

---

Ah! How unfortunate. the goddess' body slowly started moving again as the dream connection had ended. While I have learned to intercept dreams more easily. It seems my divine nature brings interference. I will have to adapt my code to deal with that if I am to be able to perceive mortal dreams without changing their content.

{di e vin aque frirque que?} Nalmepror questioned. The goddess shook her head.

Not really. I am sure the waters would have carried the branch in this general direction. But so far I have not been able to find any hint of it in any mortal dream. Yet it has also not moved past the edge of the world. So surely it must have been intercepted somewhere... Ah. It cannot be helped. We will need to keep searching. It is good because I can also perform the task of exploring this continent as we continued on our hunt.

---

Light streaked like one of the new found stars in the sky, but brighter, moving across the heavens. Different from the various burning lights that had so recently streaked down from the sky before the stars were gifted to the heavens, this light was closer and by some margin ever so brighter and more luminous that it seemed to light up the world below.

If one had the sight for it they would see not just light, but a woman carrying a spear and darting through the sky, gliding on leathery wings and propelled ever so fast as she herself glowed amid her dress of fancy form. If one had the hearing for it they too would hear the exclamation, “Wait, that’s not a funny tree, that’s a person!” before that woman descended down upon the sea the reflected her shine so well, to a bank by the river flow.

She landed gently nearby but the pale woman paid her no heed, so engrossed by something she saw in the water. It didn't take long for the luminous lady to approach, in fact in took a very short amount of time before she was sitting down next to her saying, “So my name is Ze'kelia, light is kinda my thing, and who the f- I mean who might you be?”

The woman blinked and then her eyes gazed upon Ze'kelia's reflection as if she was picking apart the goddess' every detail. They sat in silence for a few moments and then the woman turned to the goddess with a frown. "How uncouth." she said in a rich, velvety voice. An air of authority laced within it. The woman stood up, arms folded behind her back as she walked around the Light Goddess, head held high. "Is that anyway to greet a fellow Divine? Rushing in without a modicum of patience? Asking who I am with such disregard for pleasantries? Sitting with such poor posture?" she came to a stop before Ze'kelia and looked down with a frown that turned into a dazzling smile. "Well, we are new after all so it can be forgiven." At once her deamnor changed and she seemed to relax as she extended a hand to the Goddess. "I am Wyn, Goddess of Beauty. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Ze'kelia, Goddess of light." her voice lost its air of authority and became softer, friendlier even.

Ze'kelia feigned a look of extreme suspicion after the sudden change of tone. She rammed the butt of the spear into the ground, before smiling warmly and taking Wyn's hand as she began to stand. She paused to kiss Wyn's hand as her head came up and then laid her other hand on top holding it for a moment. Wyn smiled further at the display. “And a pleasure it is to meet you Lady Wyn, Goddess of Beauty!” Ze'kelia then let go doing a small flourish with both her hands.

“You are more pleasant by far than the first thing on this half-blighted land, an ugly creature on three legs that threw a rock at me, a big one!” She paused to pick up her spear once more, resting the butt of it on the ground. “I'm traveling to see who exactly hit me with this river you see, oh and to head up to the big mountain over there to give a signal to my two giants to start throwing my light disk. I've been thinking of names for it, I figure actually making this dark place a bit more enlightened and warm might do it some good. What do you think of...”

Ze'kelia threw her arms into the air and with a flourish of her spear an array of lights appeared behind her as she spoke, “THE SU'UNE!”

She kept gently wiggling her spear above her head as she awaited a response.

Wyn clasped her hands together and tilted her head to the side, her smile never fading. "My, you are quite the charmer and just a ball of energy, aren't you? A wonderful combination darling, one I have no doubt you'll realize how easy it is to fall for." she said nonchalantly before bringing a hand to her chin. "Now, let's see, the Su'une did you say? You know it's quite funny that we'd meet actually, as I was going to work on that very same solution. The water behind me needs a light source to fully realize its potential and here you are. Oh and no, in case you were wondering, I did not hit you with that river. I came from it actually and it no doubt comes from the same place you're heading. But oh, the Su'une… I suppose it could work." she said with a nod.

Ze’kelia twirled her spear around her head before bringing back down to her side as she spoke, “The water needs some light huh? It might be a while till the Su’une gets up above, I could always make a little something for your dear little place here Lady Wyn...” She trailed off leaving the option open as she renewed her smile looking directly at Wyn the whole time.

Wyn raised an eyebrow. "And kind too." the goddess said, curling a strand of her hair with a finger. "I did have a bit of an idea. Come, let's take a stroll you and I." Wyn smiled before turning around. She then began to walk on top of the water, in the direction of endless sea.

“A stroll yes sounds wonderful!” she eagerly followed although with a noticeable lesser amount of grace walking on the water for the first ten steps or so catching up, ”You know, I went for a bit of a stroll once before, actually I don’t actually know if it could be called a stroll. Probably a bad word for blasting your way out of a dark monster filled cave system. Awful design let me tell you, wasn’t a single sign or anyone helpful at all!”

Wyn put her arms behind her back and interlocked her fingers as they walked. "Yes you mentioned seeing something… Foul. It pains me to hear that you have had such a difficult awakening, Lady Ze'kelia. Such monsters have no right to even look upon your brilliance, if I be so bold to say. It is an affront on our divinity to allow such creatures to exist. Fortunately, I have not come across anything monstrous yet but if I do… Well. " she smirked at Ze'kelia. "I will remind them of their placel."

Ze’kelia absentmindedly tapped the spear but against the water surface as they walked, sending ripples of light off below. ”Now aren’t you the charming one Lady Wyn, be bold as you would, I’d hardly hold it against you. I have been thinking this world is lackluster to live in, it sucks a lot. It’s dark, cold, the ground is dusty and a rather odd color in most places. It could use a great deal more beauty so I am glad to have you around with such an eye and care for it.”

"Oh that's just what I'm here for, dear. The calling to turn the world back to beauty, back to a livable state. For what, you might ask? Who knows? Perhaps it's just something to do? Perhaps it's why we came into being? All I know is that this world is ugly and I, or in this case, we, must fix it." Wyn went silent, as if she was contemplating something but it wasn't long that she piped up again. "We have come along way already, haven't we? This spot will do." she unfolded her hands and placed one over the water in front of her. There came a sudden groan and the water bubbled. A large piece of land rocketed up from the depths at their feet, sending them high into the air as they stood upon it.

Ze’kelia kept silent as she thought on a few of the questions and even as they rose up with the land. Finally she did come to speak turning to Wyn, ”What are we to do Lady Wyn? You seem to have a solid idea in your own mind of things.”

When the land came to a stop it was a sizable island. Pools of water had collected on the gray stone as most of it returned to the sea in thunderous noise. Wyn turned to Ze'kelia and eyed her again. "Not to worry dear, you'll see and all will be made clear." she brought up her hands and made a box with her index fingers and thumbs, placing it in front of her face as she looked at Ze'kelia with an eye closed. "That'll do perfectly darling." she said to herself then turned back towards the island. She raised her hand and the ground began to rumble again. Stone gave away to white as something emerged from the center of the island. It rose, first revealing a hand, then the top of a head, then shoulders and wings sprouted with an unrefined look. An outline. It rose further, towering and towering above. When it at last stopped moving a giant statue stood before them. It was far larger then any ruined monolith or hill but not as large as a mountain. Its outline resembled a woman with a hand outstretched, spear in the other, striking a pose. Wyn hummed to herself then flicked her fingers and the stone began to break and crack, but the goddess did not look concerned at all. Great chunks of rock began to fall with mighty cracks upon the island, sending dust into the air.

This rent on for several moments but when the noise died down, Wyn summoned a wind that blowed the dust away, revealing a magnificent statue of Ze'kelia. It was an immaculate display, with details weaved into the stone like the fabric she wore, all the way to individual feathers. Her build was appropriate to her current form, but her face was enhanced, perhaps far too beautiful or with a hint of an artistic flare. "If you could place a light within your palm, it would be appreciated, Lady Ze'kelia." Wyn said, one hand on her hip and the other touching her chin. She stared at the statue but her face conveyed little to what she was thinking.

Ze'kelia had awaited patiently as first the stone was shaped and then detail added, growing more aware of what exactly was being formed here. Somewhat stunned by the whole thing she calmly did as asked, an orb of light flickering through the spectrum came into her hand as she stared up at the construction. A single look, when she had taken a very long while to shape a physical form to her idea not too long ago.

"Ah, there it is, light. It's warmth shall illuminate this sea for time eternal. Bringing about beauty untold. Thank you, Lady Ze'kelia." Wyn said to her, then snapped her fingers and turned around to look out over the sea. From behind her the rocks groaned again and formed a hexagonal platform beneath the statue. Smaller statues, that maintained the same visual appeal, formed on the corners, each depicting Ze'kelia holding an urn. From those urns a a stream of water gushed pooling into rocks as they flowed to run off the island. A stream ran by them and Wyn reached down, placing a finger within and then bringing it to her lips. She tasted it. "Salty. Perfect. Come Ze'kelia, look upon the view you created." she said. Ze'kelia flapped her wings, bolting herself to a easy landing by the edge to look out onto the fullness of the landscape.

With the added light, what was once a rather dreary look had transformed into a wonderous view. Her light painted the water crystal clear, and where the salt began to mix with the water, the particulates reflected and sparkled. It was a spark of hope in that dreary world and would only grow better as it aged. Wyn finally spoke up again, "I imagine your… What was it again, suun? Sun? When that illuminates the world it will only look better I think. Or I should say, hope."

"You know, Lady Wyn, I think this world has waited long enough for the rising of the Su'une. My Solar Disk, I shall think it might be good to get that going, so you might see for yourself."

With that comment made she flew up into the air and held her spear with both hands, aligning it upward towards the sky and unleashing a great burst. It wasn't blinding, it slowly drifted up luminous beyond anything else higher and higher into the sky. A small trail of plasma and heated atmosphere was left in its wake, bright anywhere else except in the wake of this light. When it seemed so far above the surface, so far above even the highest mountains it exploded out in a great wave of light.

Mostly low energy, high in wavelength, the least harmful to most that which still lived. Some in the higher bands of visible light stayed as did others not absorbed quickly into the atmosphere, heating it ever slightly. And the light faded from the sky once more, dimming...

...until from the North, almost as far as one could go and starting low in the sky. A bright light arc'd, from east to west, it was blinding to look at and warm, warmer than anything had been for a long time in most places along the surface. It radiated out over, so low that some were blocked by mountains or hills. Then it landed somewhere unknown, and then a light flew from west to east, not as bright, but warm still if less so. One could look and see this clearly, the best eyesight could tell a beautiful design of colors and light shifting as it flew, but from a disk so radiant and small that to most it appeared white in their merging, soft and gentle light. It flew in an arc slightly higher in the sky, going slightly further east than the first light.

And then it began again when it landed, eachtime moving a bit further, a bit higher. One could see that eventually it would be high in the sky and enlighten all that it could reach.

"I think my Guardians got the message Lady Wyn!" Ze'kelia called back below as she circled slowly down again.

Wyn gave a clap as she smiled up at Ze'kelia. "Marvelous darling. Oh what beauty your light will illuminate one day." Her lips curled into a frown however. "But right now it paints how much work is still needed to achieve that dream. I think it best we depart for now. For you have to hunt down whoever hit you with that river, and I must busy myself with tidying up this place we now call home." she said, her frown relaxing.

Ze'kelia landed once more speaking softly, "One last thing Lady Wyn before I continue on my way and you continue with your work."

She held out a small crystal orb, to the other Goddess and displayed one in her other hand after letting go of the spear where it stood in the air as she left it. She squeezed the one held out and it glowed red as the other glowed blue, she stopped and then repeated for the other. Squeezing both at once made them glow purple.

"So that no matter how distant on this world we may both remember each other and let the other know."

Wyn looked upon the orb with great interest, then back to Ze'kelia. "How kind of you, Lady Ze'kelia. Hmm, let's see." she said, hovering the orb closer. Upon further inspection she touched it and the orb sparkled, then a crystal band grew from under it and she placed it on a finger. She held it up towards the light and it shimmered. "You are sweet, thank you." Wyn said softly.

Ze'kelia smiled and waved as her wings began to beat and she took off, turning to head upriver towards the mountain once more. Wyn watched her go, a devious smile playing at her lips.

---

It had been approximately an hour since Celvanya had departed the barrier she had made to protect the soldiers she had taken under her wing. Thankfully these minutes had been uneventful as she hadn’t encountered any roaming monsters like before. Depressingly, she hadn’t encountered much else either. Despite her best efforts the barren wasteland was just that, barren. Giving a sigh Celvanya turned to return to the barrier that she had created when she spotted something, or at least what was left of something. It had been thrown beneath the lip of a large rock, and so not noticing it immediately was fairly forgivable. Walking over calmly, Celvanya pulled it free from its small hiding place and took a moment to examine the twisted chunk of wood.

With everything being barren rock finding the crushed remains of a tree was fairly interesting. Unfortunately, Celvanya had no idea what it might’ve belonged to at one point and given its current condition she could confidently say that it wasn’t alive. But perhaps this was not to be its final resting place. Tracing her fingers along the wood, Celvanya shaped it into a fine staff before picking it up. A leather sash appeared across her torso and Celvanya tucked the staff against her back for safe keeping.

With her trinket stored Celvanya made her way back to the barrier. Stepping inside carefully, she found the soldiers haphazardly asleep wherever they could fit. Nodding in silence a few times she debated on healing and restoring them in order to get moving, but decided it would be best to allow them to naturally sleep for a bit longer.

Leaving the barrier once more Celvanya took a minute to climb up a small cliff in order to survey the horizon for a bit. As she scanned around the area she made an interesting discovery: Among the barren rock had emerged a valley of green. This was quite perplexing, and signaled one of two things: Either something had managed to survive in this apocalyptic wasteland, or another god was active in the area. Both were interesting for a variety of reasons. More survivors could theoretically mean more reinforcements for her small band of soldiers, or another god could mean that they could possibly be convinced to assist with the self-assigned goal of stabilizing or closing the magic rift far in the east. It was a deviation from the path that she had in mind to take her group straight to the rift, but the potential gains against the loss of time were quite valuable and it was deemed a worthwhile trip.

Climbing down from the small cliff Celvanya re-entered the barrier and made up her mind on waking the soldiers. Stepping with perfect accuracy she tapped the shoulder of each soldier, and with each tap she eased their weariness and healed their wounds. Shortly thereafter they would find themselves waking and when they saw that Celvanya was present once more they sat up rapidly. Gathering their equipment up the soldiers questioned if Celvanya had found anyone, to which she could only shake her head. Understanding the response, the soldiers made themselves ready to depart, but Celvanya bade them to eat and drink their fill one last time before preparing fully, and explained the valley that she had seen and her motivation for going there. Nodding in understanding, the soldiers ate one last meal before making ready.

When they were finished, Celvanya dismissed the jugs and basket that she had created. It caused some dismay in the soldiers, but they did understand the reasoning why: It was excess to carry and could weigh them down, and then beyond that the smell of food could attract more monsters as they marched. After the soldiers assured her that they were ready to move, Celvanya kicked at the circle she had drawn upon the ground and broke it. This caused the barrier to dissolve, and Celvanya reached for her sword in order to try and provide light for the soldiers to see by.

Then she paused, and instead grabbed the staff from her back. Even if she was going to try and resurrect the tree that it had been later she could make use of it now. Within the twin curves near the top of the staff two orbs of light appeared. It was less intense than the light of her sword, and would thus hopefully attract less attention to the group overall.

Taking the lead, Celvanya began to lead her small band of soldiers towards the valley that she had seen. Hopefully whoever or whatever she found there would make the trip worthwhile. After walking for a short time, though, the unmistakable noise of chatter could be heard on the wind - a relaxed, yet firm tone, too, one so difficult to find these days.

”... Shame about your cousin, huh, Ossy?”

Celvanya’s ears perked up at the sound of a voice, and she stuck an arm out to halt the soldiers behind her. Turning her head a bit to try and better locate where the sound had come from, she eventually narrowed down to coming from behind a nearby group of large rocks. Turning to the soldiers, Celvanya whispered a brief command while indicating the cluster or rocks she had singled out. ”I hear a voice coming from beyond there. Do not attack unless I do so myself.” With a collective nod from the soldiers, Celvanya gave a smile before raising a finger to her lips. With a brief thought she dismissed the orbs of light that floated around her staff and began to quietly move closer.

The soldiers followed her lead as best they could. Their armor couldn’t help but click against itself and the rocks they pressed against but that simply couldn’t be helped in a situation that was as spontaneous as this one. Peering carefully over the top of a rock, Celvanya observed what appeared to be a many-armed entity having a conversation with… A baby?

The entity frowned to the sound of the baby’s coo and said with a four-armed shrug: ”No, I did not -have- to turn her into a newt, but you need to understand, young man - family who won’t take care of family should not exist.” There came a pensive pause. ”In fact, she should be glad to be alive. Now she can see the world as all critters who ignore their house duty should.” The entity stuck its chin to the sky proudly and two of its hands patted the confused baby on its little, black-haired head. The creature seemed to notice it was being watched, and kept its merry gait across the edge green fields towards the nothingness of the Apocalypse.

As she listened in on the conversation Celvanya found herself equal parts confused and intrigued. On the one hand, the ability to hold a distinct conversation was a baby that communicated in little more that babbles and coos was quite perplexing. Even with her ability to divine meaning from any language the baby talk was just that, baby talk. But aside from that, the story that someone had been turned into a newt proved to be fairly interesting. Were there possibly more people to be found?

If there were more people to be found, then there were more people who could possibly join the march towards the magic rift that lay in the east. Or perhaps the soldiers she had under her wing would want to join the other survivors? It would free her to move at a speed that would turn days or weeks of travel into hours, at least. Resolving to know, Celvanya decided that trying to hide was no longer beneficial.

Whispering to follow her lead, Celvanya hoisted herself over the top of the rocks and dropped down onto the grass upon the other side. With another thought she brought back the orbs of light that hovered around her staff before announcing her presence clearly. ”Hail, traveler! I could not help but overhear you mention that you had found survivors? I would ask, if you are willing to share, where you might have found them? And how many do they number?”

As she spoke, Celvanya stepped forward a bit, but still maintained a fair distance away. Behind her, the soldiers hoisted themselves up and over the rocks just as Celvanya had, though their landings were a bit harsher due to the fact that they were actually burdened by the armor and swords that they carried. Though they would all be just fine after a few moments to recuperate.

It was notably clear that the new entity made them a bit nervous, as they remained close to the rocks instead of stepping forward like Celvanya did. Couldn’t really be helped. Mortals would do as mortals did.

The entity stopped and immediately summoned forth six swords, one for each arm, while the last two protectively clutched the human baby to their breast. The arms spun the swords around in a vicious storm of steel before the entity settled into a combat stance. ”Who goes there?! Who are you?! Keep your hands off my baby boy!”

Celvanya raised an eyebrow at the response, but understood it. Perhaps she could’ve handled the greeting better. In any case, she briefly raised a hand in peace before speaking. ”Please, be at ease. I mean neither you nor your child harm. I am Celvanya Gelmore, the soldiers behind me are my personal guard. We are currently on a march towards a magic rift far in the east. You mentioned that you had found people, yes? I would ask again if you could point the way towards where they would be. I would like to bring them under my wing as a part of this march, or I would like to see that they are protected should they choose to stay.”

The soldiers, meanwhile, had reacted properly to the sudden appearance of six swords in the entity’s hands: They crowded together tightly against the rocks they had crossed over and held their shields up defensively, shaking slightly from fear. Their bravery would need a bit of work, it would seem.

The entity’s hostile scowl faded as a brow slowly rose up. Then with a movement as swift and smooth as when the blades had arrived, the entity turned them into smoke and reassumed a straight-backed stance, looking Celvanya up and down. ”Gelmore? A last name? A worthy name, too.” The entity licked the air as though tasting it and its lips curled into a friendly smile. ”Huzzah! A lady of quality!”

Celvanya’s eyebrow twitched slightly. Was her last name important? It had merely been the name that she felt belonged to her at the moment of her inception. Was there some history she did not know? Either way it seemed to intrigue the being in front of her, which Celvanya didn’t quite understand. What value could a name have in a time like this over something that was far more substantial like allies or a safe location?

The sudden praise of her apparent quality was equally confusion inducing. Namely in that Celvanya wasn’t quite sure of what qualities were being praised. Her capabilities as a warrior? They were certainly noteworthy but Celvanya didn’t quite consider them praiseworthy. Was it her appearance? She didn’t quite imagine herself as being particularly beautiful, but perhaps the being before her thought differently?

In an attempt to resolve some of her confusion Celvanya decided to go with the simplest option: Ask. ”What quality of mine do you praise? In addition I would ask again: You mentioned that you had located some survivors? I would like to know where they are and if they are safe or require protection.”

The entity seemed to ignore the question again, spinning closer to her in elegant pirouettes until they were but a meter apart. ”What quality do I praise? Lo, what questions; what humility! Bear you not in mind, my lady, the power of your own name? The origin of your holiness?” It paused and unfolded its six available arms like beams shooting out of a star. ”To be named is to be great, Celvanya Gelmore - it shows belonging, I say, belonging! As a fellow progenitor of a house, first of one’s dynasty, I tip my torso to you.” They bowed low and gracefully.

The continued neglect of the question about survivors was slightly irritating, but Celvanya put that irritation aside for a moment. Concern grew as the being approached closer, and an active battle had to be waged against her natural self defense instincts in order to avoid placing a hand upon the hilt of her sword. She had been genuine when she said that harm was not wished upon them, and didn’t want to betray such a statement mere moments after making it.

The praises and compliments that were heaped upon her for existing brought some confusion to her mind. What sort of belonging did a name with nothing else attached to it give? And when they mentioned being the progenitor of a house her confusion only continued to grow. Did this being know something about Celvanya that she herself did not know? Had there been others who came before?

Resolving to find at least some answers, Celvanya posed more questions to the being before her once they finished bowing. ”I must admit I harbor some confusion. I know little of what you mean by my name showing belonging. It is merely something that I knew about myself the moment I came into being. What value do you find within my name that makes you proclaim so? I had always thought myself defined more by my actions than anything else.”

There was an urge to repeat her earlier question regarding the survivors, but since it had already been ignored twice now it felt pointless to continue to press the issue as it stood. This being clearly wanted some other form of conversation to take place before that one, and Celvanya resolved to entertain it in the hope that she could get the answers she sought.

Two of six hands grabbed each of her shoulders. ”Oh, worthy lady, creation must have clouded your senses, I am sure! A name so clearly separate from your given one as ‘Gelmore’ surely denotes your clan and house, you must understand! When you mother your first offspring, they, too, will share your name of Gelmore and will pass it on for untold generations, creation be good!” The spun again and turned on the side, inspecting a wrist in a feigning thoughtful manner. ”That is… Unless you have no attachment to this name?”

When Celvanya’s shoulders were grabbed there was a moment where her instinct to protect herself flared and she wanted desperately to push the hands aside, but in order to remain polite and courteous she pushed back against it and remained motionless until the hands were removed. As the being before her began to talk about mothering offspring Celvanya’s gaze could not be helped but to be drawn towards the baby they held once more. Could the multitude of arms they possessed be explicitly for carrying as many children as possible?

That felt like a question that would be best left unspoken, and Celvanya’s mind pushed the thought away as a question was posed to her. Did she have any kind of attachment to her name? Well, it was hers and came naturally to mind and with that consideration she did suppose that it held some amount of value to her, at least in the sense of maintaining her own identity. But was that value the same value that the being before her held? It was difficult for her to tell since she had never considered it up until now. This brought a new question to mind, which was promptly asked. ”I can suppose that I have some attachment to it in the sense that it comes naturally to mind whenever I think of myself. As such I could say that it has value in that it defines who I am. However, this talk of names brings a curious thought to my mind: What is yours, by chance? I have given you mine and you have praised it, but you have not expressed your own.”

The entity recoiled slightly and feigned a dramatic swoon. ”Alas!” they said, ”To think I have spoken for this long about names and the value of names and forgotten the most basic courtesy!” Six hands put palm against palm and the torso tipped slightly forward. ”Peace of Creation be upon you, Celvanya Gelmore. I am Chakravarti vur Chakravarti, ruler and master of my house and dynasty, the dynasty of Chakravarti.” One hand sweetly caressed the black-haired scalp of the baby in their arms. ”This is my son, my first, Ossurman the First of the Chakravarti Dynasty. Say hi, Oss.”

“Guh-brrpl,” said the baby.

Giving a bow-like nod in response to the introduction, Celvanya couldn’t help but tease a slight smile as the baby replied in the only way they could. It was still incomprehensible gibberish to her, but perhaps Chakravarti possessed some ability to speak with him? Another curious thought that spun briefly within Celvanya’s mind was the question of who might have joined Chakravarti in order to give them a son? That question felt like it would be a bit touchy seeing as Chakravarti traveled alone. Or perhaps they had been left with the survivors that she had been asking about? Could that perhaps be why they were so hesitant to give an answer?

Taking a moment to ponder what she would like to say, Celvanya wondered just what Chakravarti was getting at when she mentioned not valuing her own name? Did they have some grand design which they were trying to complete, or were they simply curious as to whether or not Celvanya cared about her last name at all? Perhaps it would be wise to ask. ”So, Chakravarti, I must inquire: When you asked me if I valued my name or not, what purpose did your words carry? Do you have some grand design upon my name that you wish to impose or were you merely curious as to how I viewed things?”

Chakravarti smiled. ”I am so glad you asked.” With a masterful elegance, the family god descended onto one knee before the warrior and six arms all produced jewelry, dresses, gilded weapons and flowers and held them out to Celvanya. ”We are each of different dynasties. This world is wicked and cruel. What say you, then, Celvanya Gelmore, that you join my dynasty as my wife and ally?” Its wink was one of gold and silver, lilac and lavender.

To say that Celvanya was caught off guard was a bit of an understatement. Was she being proposed to? So quickly? And what of the child that Chakravarti held? This question seemed like it was important enough to ask given the sudden proposal. ”I… Er. I must question: If you are proposing that I join your… Dynasty? I would ask where your son came from. Are you not already committed to someone or was that child born from a different circumstance?”

”Ossy?” asked the family god and gave the baby a soft nuzzle with their fist. ”Oh, he’s mine, alright, though not born to me. I found him and took him as my own.” They then assumed a straight stance and their smile faded somwhat. ”Besides, I am not committed to anyone. I am but a bachelor and bachelorette, alone in this black, evil world.”

Celvanya gave a nod to the answer and decided to avoid asking for more details on the circumstances of where said son came from explicitly. At least not until she could perhaps eventually get answers about the other survivors that Chakravarti had mentioned. Though something else puzzled her, and she sought some reasoning with her next question. ”I see… Though I must confess I am a bit confused as to what exactly drives you to ask me to join your dynasty? We have only just met and you have asked me to become your wife so quickly? Is this a kind of question you ask all who come before you or did you have some grand design you wished to impose upon my future?”

An insulted hand touched at the family god’s breast. ”What accusations! Do you take me for a harlot?” Another few hands ruffled gently at their hair. ”Alliances between houses through marriage are stronger than steel; words mean naught, but flesh speaks volumes - blood runs thicker than water and air. I have asked none other than you, lady Gelmore, and I ask you for both our sakes: The world is cold and unfeeling; together, we can be warm and safe. We can spread our offspring throughout the land like blades of grass. Truly, there is no downside to a marriage.” They posed triumphantly in profile, down on one knee and six arms all flexing with glistening glory. Above, stars blinked into existence and the family god gasped. ”BEHOLD! The beauty of nature aligns with this destiny! How - how, my lady, can you refuse?” Another pose.

Celvanya paused in her questions for a moment in order to contemplate the offered arrangement. An ally would be useful, though Celvanya did harbor some concerns about the mention of offspring. She additionally pondered what other demands might get made of her in time aside from offspring, though at the same time she questioned what requests she might be able to make of Chakravarti in the future.

As stars winked into existence in the sky Celvanya took a moment to pause and look at them. Was this an effort in order to add weight to their request or the work of someone entirely unrelated? Celvanya didn’t sense any effort being made by Chakravarti and so figured that it was either someone else or they were quite good at hiding their divine efforts.

All other notions aside, Celvanya did want for allies in these trying times. If this was the way that an ally was to be obtained, she supposed it would have to be something she accepted. After a long moment of silence, Celvanya spoke once more. ”Very well. I will accept your proposal.”

The eight-armed god cracked a wide smile, did yet another pirouette and took Celvanya’s hand in two of their own while four others gently touched their own chest. ”Oh, what splendor; what fortune! O wife, o beauty! Behold - my oath to bind me to you and you to me for all eternity!” They cleared their throat and spoke, ”Celvanya, my dear - as your husband, I swear on the honour of my existence and my house that I, Chakravarti, will love you and care for your every need - regardless of what they may be. Provide me offspring, o wife, and I will come to your aid at your mere call. You are mine, Celvanya vur Chakravarti, as I am yours.” An explosion of light and lotus flowers behind their back added a mighty dramatic flare to their silhouette.

Blinking a few times at the display, Celvanya felt her hand be taken and allowed the motion to happen without resistance. Chakravarti would find that Celvanya’s hand was not warm and soft, but cold and tough. More the hand of a warrior than that of a wife. As the binding proclamation was made, Celvanya nodded in response. After a few moments, she spoke again. ”Very well. Chakravarti. Will you be joining me on my march? There are things I have set out to do, and it would be befitting of a husband to accompany their wife on these sort of things, would it not?”

”Alas, wife, I cannot!” the god made clear. ”My quest takes me north, far north. However...” With the flick of a hand, they produced great quantities of gold and silver in their hands, handing them to Celvanya with a bow of the head. ”Take this as my contribution to your glorious project. I will visit you soon, I promise, and do my duty as your husband.”

Celvanya nodded at the statement before nearly raising an eyebrow as she was handed a great deal of gold and silver. In all honesty she could find little use for these at the moment, but perhaps something would come later that would make them useful. Thanking Chakravarti, Celvanya placed the gold and silver within the pouch located upon her belt. Surprisingly, it didn’t seem to have much issue holding the large quantity of gold and silver that Chakravarti provided. Perhaps it was a bit larger on the inside than on the outside?

With that tucked away, Celvanya spoke once more. ”Thank you for the gift, O husband of mine. You will find me in the east, as there is a magic rift that I intend to stabilize.” As she spoke, Celvanya would raise a hand to point precisely at the rift she mentioned. Perhaps Chakravarti would be able to see it as she could?

Lowering her hand, Celvanya gave a brief bow to her new husband. ”I am afraid I must depart. Time is not on my side with this rift, and I would see it stabilized or closed before it becomes uncontrollable. Farewell.”

With that said, Celvanya would wait a few moments for anything to be said. If nothing was, she would gesture for the soldiers that had joined her cause to follow her and begin to march towards the portal once more.

As the goddess left, Chakravarti remained briefly and waved after her with four hands. ”Be safe, o wife! Will be seeing you soon!” They then turned northwards and gave Ossurman a playful tickle on the nose as they begun to walk. ”And that, sweety, is how you form alliances.”

“Guubrlg…”

”Oh, I’ll visit her soon, sure. A husband must make time for his wife, after all. This, you, too, must learn.”

“Uhwee-bwah-buh…”

”Yes, that’s right! You’re learning! Oh, you’re such a little genius.” And so, the Family God made their way north, their joy and their spirit at such mountainous levels that their feet left patches of flowery fields, which grew outwards to cover great lands.

The Dream - The Nameless
The Underworld - During the Apocalypse

She slowly reached out with Her hands and tore the evil creature in Her grasp asunder, taking delight in its last pained shrieks and spasms before She consumed its corpse. Its numerous companions were gnawing and biting at Her legs and stomach, but She ignored them as the delicious taste of abyssal ichor and fiendish flesh flooded Her mouth and filled Her with insidious joy.

She languidly swallowed Her small meal before She shifted and reared in an attempt to violently shake the demons off of Her. A few had fallen, and She quickly stomped upon their smaller forms, extinguishing them beneath Her huge hooves and heavy roots or strange protrusions that served as feet.

The creatures were weak and little compared to Her, but they were also countless, and She was becoming exhausted... which would eventually inevitably result in Her demise. This was not a fight She could endure much longer, as She had not rested since Her awakening and the hordes of the abyss were relentless in their war with Her.

She suddenly leapt from the Path of the Dead up into the nothingness where one would drift aimlessly as the concepts of gravity and electromagnetism cease to exist, then She called upon Her power which pulled Her back. She crashed down upon the path like a meteor, pulverizing the remaining creatures that foolishly held onto Her. The few that survived disappeared into the endless abyss, cast aside by the vast explosion from Her impact.

Afterwards... Preparing Herself for the next onslaught, She was surprised by the silence broken only by Herself as the squelching sounds of black blood poured forth from Her many wounds. With the unexpected moment of calm, the constant diversion of fighting now gone, and the subtle sensations of pain becoming profuse, Her physical trauma overwhelmed Her in a dizzying rush.

Was She dying now? She could still sense the nearby grotesque oily presence of the void-spawn, but they did not approach Her. They seemed to be distracted as well, hunting other prey that was wandering lost in the darkness. The cries of souls consumed echoed from afar, such a sorrowful song that hurt Her more than any cut or bruise She had sustained. She did not know whether to be grateful for the reprieve, or enraged that She had no enemies to fight, to slay, to aid Her in forgetting Her current suffering. She hated Herself.

The Path of the Dead was without end and incredibly difficult to navigate, not entirely solidified in a few sections, and many paths often leading to nothing. The longer you traversed its lonely length, the greater the risk of being attacked or becoming lost, but She was never concerned by such things, and began walking onward as She sought more foes to slay.

---

The fighting was always vicious, but the denizens of the void were becoming familiar with how She fought, and discerned Her greatest weakness. A lack of agility, accuracy, and ranged capabilities. They began to utilize skirmishing tactics, relying upon Her inability to reach them as they hurled spears and sharp poisonous projectiles at Her, weakening Her and providing an opportunity to strike without retribution.

She had slain many even at such a disadvantage, blindly retaliating with Her multitude of limbs, striking and strangling the unfortunate fiend that was not fast enough to escape Her wrath. When they tossed their spears at Her, She would pull them from Her body and hurl them back.

Then they began mocking and attempting to speak with Her. She had yet to discover how cunning Her enemy could become.

They kept their distance, but assailed Her with words, disturbing insinuations and horrifying insults. They asked unsettling questions that She could not answer, or shared terrible knowledge that She wished She could forget but feared it would stain Her mind for the rest of eternity.

They said She was death incarnate, that She must be slain or else the cycle will never be broken. She did not know how to speak, how to curse them and demand their silence. She had not needed to communicate before, and never bothered to regenerate her eyes or throat after having such torn apart in a previous encounter. She could only let Her anger continue to accumulate as She wandered and built upon the Path of the Dead.

"We are Nameless." They claimed, those that spoke to Her from the darkness.

---

She could not find shelter, and She could not uncover Her tormentors, it seemed She would fall soon. They whispered to Her while She rested, as if corrupting Her mind and pervading Her thoughts were more enjoyable than killing her now. They laughed and leered now while unseen, as Her attempts to find them failed again and again. Exhausted, sleep beckoned to Her, calling for Her to meet its sweet embrace.

"Death, why do you sleep now?" They asked.

"Death, why do you cry now?" They asked.

She could not answer, She was too tired and could not be bothered. Their voices merged together and became gentle, lulling Her to sleep. She heard a few kind words among the insidious choir filled with contempt. Their honeyed lies hurt more than violent truth.

While She slept, She dreamed of a strange creature approaching her and offering something in its outstretched limbs... in its hands. The creature seemed to lack legs, its lower half consisting of only a shiny scaled tail that ended in wide fins that it used to propel itself forward. Its upper half was weirder, only two arms attached to a naked torso, and a small head with long strands of silvery hair framing the creature's face.

"Will you take this? Will you forgive me?" The creature said and held out the intriguing object, persistently trying to give it to Her. With great hesitation, and only after the creature seemed unable to accept Her refusal, She took what seemed nothing more than a oddly carved horn or claw. Upon touching it, knowledge filled Her.

While She slept, She saw a tall and terrible tower, sundered by a beautiful silvery sword adorned with roses and thorny vines... a silvery sword now wielded by Herself, as She was soaring in the sky above and watching the stygian land beneath Her begin to crack apart. Holding onto Her and clinging to her neck, the creature from before watched with wonder as the tower crumbled and a beautiful sea emerged from the broken earth.

While She slept, She did not feel the teeth that bit Her, or the claws that cut Her, or the stingers that stabbed Her.

She awoke with a burning fire in Her heart, finding Herself encircled by demons and devils tearing away at Her flesh. Dazed after Her slumber, She did not understand what was happening as She suddenly beget forth a bloody blade from Her form and grasped it in Her hands. It was the silvery sword from Her dream, still decorated with briar and roses even now.

The weapon extended Her reach allowing Her to fight the skirmishers, and also summoned entangling vines that restrained Her enemies making it easier to grind them with Her feet into dust and blood. Newfound power filled Her as She wielded the blade, and She slaughtered all of the fiends with no mercy in Her heart.

"Death, why do you fight now?" They asked after, the unseen demons were still lingering beyond Her sense of sight. She screamed in frustration, swinging the massive sword around aimlessly, before She continues walking along the Path of the Dead. A sound from the carnage left in Her wake causes Her to halt.

"Forgive me."

She remembered the voice from Her dream, and turn to see amidst the many mutilated corpses a familiar form. It was the strange creature, with terrible wounds inflicted upon it... by Herself. She did not know how to react at the sight, slowly stumbling back to where the dying demon lay.

She had not feasted upon the fallen this fight, Her hunger had vanished after witnessing the denizens of the abyss consume the souls of the living. She had found Herself retching and disgorging fiends she had previously eaten.

"I wished to be with you." The creature contorted its face, twisting the muscles of its mouth as it cried. She did not understand why this monster was saying such as it was dying. She screamed in sorrow and doubt, wanting to know why She was in pain when She was the one that had survived and had become more powerful while this creature like its kindred would no longer hurt Her.

"Thank you." Were the last words the creature said before it died.

---

She walked along the Path of the Dead, Her silvery sword summoning forth thorny tendrils that would restrain the demon, and let Her easily kill them. The weapon was imbued with a powerful enchantment, growing more powerful as it consumed the blood of those that it felled. More and more beautiful vines sprouted from the weapon and nearby path to feast upon the helpless fiends.

She could not count how many She had slain, though there were always more it seemed. She enjoyed fighting them. She hated fighting them. Why did She continue to fight, She had been asked now, and She did not know. But...

"Endless. Undying. Nameless." The voices whispered from the dark and fathomless void. They continued to haunt Her.

But...

"Mother, why walk when you could soar in the sea of shadows?" A childish voice called out.

So small, that it could easily rest upon Her neck, the serpentine half-humanoid creature flew through the abyss around Her, dancing like the streams of blood that flowed freely through the abyss akin to the rivers appearing in the world above. Umat, whom insisted She should give it a name. Umat, whom called itself Her first daughter. Umat whom She had healed.

Umat was beautiful and free, not bothered by her mother's silent voice, coming closer to what she had known was a great goddess. She was happy her mother let her hold Her, and hug Her. Her mother was gentle and soft, similar to what Umat imagined pillows and silk blankets to be like. Umat often wondered if her mother knew what She was...

While Her daughter cradled herself in the comfortable location where Her neck and shoulders connected, the goddess of death continued her quest to hunt all of the demons that dwelled in the Underworld (aside from Umat) while walking along the Path of the Dead, wherever it may take Her next.

---

---

To say the paradise that the goddess had created was flourishing in comparison to the rest of the world was something of an understatement at the very least. To those mortals that were living upon it, it was a true paradise that bore all sorts of fruits and substances and the ilk that they needed. An eternal cycle of plenty rooted into the location itself, something that would have brought many a soul down into deep decadence and potentially slothfulness over the long term. Were it not for the need to defend that land from demons and beasts and so forth, the inhabitants might have already fallen into such a terrible and dark sate.

Yet the goddess had not sat idly by as her first followers would live in plenty...nor leave them alone in their struggles to protect her birthplace and their new home. As promised, she was always watching over this paradisiacal place, and had been visiting here and there to teach her followers about the cycles of the world and other sorts of knowledge. She also had many plans to protect the place moving forward to boot, including: defenses, hiding it away, barriers, and so forth. It would take quite a long time to get things in the world working right as well, but in the end...yes, she would help make things better! But how next could she do so? Her work on stabilizing space-time was still ongoing, and on this particular day she was taking a break to visit her followers.

Indeed, the goddess was sitting within the ‘throne room’ built into her massive fortress-temple, her followers assembled and sitting in pews as she spoke to them and answered their questions. Today’s lesson was teaching something about the making of fences and palisades and such simple walls, a basic matter yet one that was going to be currently important when the mortals protected themselves.

---

Outside the so-called paradise, a massive boulder roughly the size of a cottage was rolling toward it at an unfathomable speed. Only when it crossed the threshold between apocalyptic wasteland and fresh green grass did it begin to slow down, before coming to a stop entirely.

The boulder cracked, and then crumbled into dust. From the dust stepped Algrim.

“What the bloody ‘ell is this?” he asked nobody in particular as he strode forward, his gaze settling on the fortress. This was all recently created; it had not been here when he first spotted this site. And, somewhat inconveniently, it was occupying the exact location he had in mind for his plan.

Well, there was only one way to get that sorted out. The God of Earth strode toward the fortress.

---

As the boulder had approached from a distance, the people inside had sighted it with no little amount of panic. What kind of demon, or Sirukh, or the like was it?! Either way it seemed on a collision course with the paradise itself, and in the manner of attempting to figure it out a number of warriors had begun to make their way down to investigate. Others began to shore up what little defenses they had at the moment, and those few left otherwise hurried the pregnant or nursing women and children into the lower chambers of the temple-fortress to keep them safe. It was something they had become far too accustomed to by the time the goddess had first arrived, and since then they had been forced to defend this place a few times already! Still...didn’t mean this new potential threat wasn’t going to be worrying.

As Algrim stopped the boulder and emerged, the small handful of warriors near his location (hiding in some bushes) stopped cold. One was about to raise his bow, however, before the older man next to him gently pushed his arms and bow back down. With a glance at his younger compatriot, the older man simply shook his head back and forth in silence. No, this peculiar arrival was not something a bow would handle. In fact, to the older man’s eyes it was reminiscent of the kind of things that had foretold the birth of the goddess, and as such was likely...divine. Maybe. Either way, they had to send someone to warn those at the temple.

Still, as Algrim approached the temple, he would eventually find himself walking about the sort of homes mortals constructed. Albeit better than anything in the wasteland, but also now strangely empty. As he would get close enough to the temple-fortress, however, he would find simple barricades of wood and the ilk before him. In fact, a number of mortals stood behind them, wielding bows, arrows, polearms, and even a few axes and blades.

“W-Who are you?” one of the defenders, after a few moments of silence, would shout out to the newcomer, “T-T-This is the birthplace of the great goddess Arira! S-Speak your business, or we shall defend our home here to the last!”

Algrim stopped, and growled. “My business is trying ta keep the whole damn world from tearing itself apart.” He continued his march. “Now move aside. I’d speak to this goddess of yours. Is she ‘ere?”

The defender who had spoken winced at the earthen god’s growl, but as the deity continued to march the defender nearly fell over as he and a few of the others rapidly scrambled to pull back their piece of wooden barricade in time. Others, in the meantime, attempted to push it back against the. Well, this strange being hadn’t outright tried to kill them! That was something at least. But it was a bit of panic that was going on as the stout Algrim came to about where the people were defending the bottom of the stairs that led into the temple-fortress itself. Yet as Alrgim came to the half-open piece of barricade, struggling mortals fighting for it for a second, something...or someone...else emerged from the top of the stairs and out of the fortress-temple’s main entrance.

Her skin was fair, and hair a lovely tan. Golden adornments covered her hair and body, and elegant clothes covered her beautiful form. For the people, it caused them to stop their fighting over the barricade at the sight of her. She would then raise a hand, gesturing for them to open the way, and a path through the small batch of defenders would clear before Algrim as the piece of barricade was fully moved out of his way this time.

“Welcome, oh stout and mighty God, to my paradise. As you entered I sensed your approach as I was teaching, but please do forgive the people here for their fear. They have but gained a new home only some time ago, and have had to defend it several times from forces beyond,” she said, walking down the steps to come meet Algrim, “What brings you here this day?”

Algrim’s eyebrows rose, and his expression, once impatient and frustrated, suddenly brightened. “Ah, good ta see some manners at last!” he said with a cheerful tone as he carried on toward her. “No one’s in much a mood for talkin’ these days. Can’t say I blame ‘em. Ah.” The smile faded, and the cheerful tone diminished somewhat. “Well, I’m Algrim. I don’t know if you noticed, but this entire world is aboot ta fall apart. I’m lookin’ ta fix that.”

Arira nodded at the fellow deity, continuing walking down to him until they would meet at the middle of the stairs.

“Indeed, and in more ways than one. The earth trembles,,” the goddess said in a pleasant manner, giving a light bow before continuing, her smile slightly fading as she mentioned her own work, “I am Arira, Goddess of Cycles. I wish we had been able to first meet under better circumstances, more peaceful ones perchance, but even so...how may I assist you in your work here?”

Algrim returned the bow. “I’d wish the same. You are a pretty one, if ya don’t mind me saying. I’m a god meself. I hold power over the earth beneath our feet. Now, I have a plan to ‘elp fix it, and it involves this location. Problem is, you went and built something on it before I even arrived. Ye wouldn’t have known, of course, so it’s not yer fault, but you see the problem?”

“Indeed…though I believe that we might have a solution to this, if I may,” the goddess mused, putting a hand to her chin for a moment before lowering it again, “Some time ago, upon visiting again my people here, I had sudden inspiration to begin clearing a grand underground chamber here beneath the temple-fortress of my birth.

If you would wish to see it for yourself, perchance it will provide housing for whatever you seek to put here?”

“Ah, that’s good. I don’t need too much space. Could ya show me to this chamber? If ya would be so kind.”

“Gladly,” Arira said, before turning her gaze down to the defenders once more, “Let your kin know all is safe here. Your presence has been graced by a goodly divinity this day. Sir Algrim, God of Earth. Mark it down in the records of events here, and let it be known among you.”

She then turned, gesturing politely for Algrim to follow her as she re-ascended the stair back into the temple fortress.

From here she would lead her fellow deity in, and initially they would find themselves in a grand entrance hall. Portraits and tapestries hung upon the walls, magical torches kept the grand entrance lit, and even the floor was donned in a massive, long carpet sporting a lovely royal purple with gold trimmings. Most peculiar, the depiction of a great wheel was wrought upon it with what seemed to be a divine touch. Depictions of cycles and changing seasons and animals being born and dying and so forth surrounded it and were depicted within its spokes.

Even so, the duo would not remain there for but the time it took to walk through it. Into the halls they wound, going down a set of winding passageways that led deeper into the earth. Stone walls of perfectly-cut brick seemed to escort them as they descended ever downward, and the steps were well-made that even dwarven legs would find them likely comfortable to walk down. Still, as the duo came toward the bottom, they would find the brick and so forth becoming newer and newer. A clod of dirt here and there would eventually be seen, and even lower than that a scuff mark or two made by accident or when transporting something could be seen. Such was the trend until ultimately the duo would be stepping out onto a stone-wrought platform, which had some signs of dirtiness and work still upon it, and the underground chamber so promised lied before their very eyes.

It’s size was something immense, a space almost as big as the temple-fortress above. It had been carved from the stone and earth itself, stretching far and wide with a great length and width equal to that of the temple-fortress itself. Support pillars carved with cyclical depiction stood along the sides of the magnificently-wrought chamber, magically and functionally supporting the sides of a grand, arched, vaulted ceiling. It was seemingly incomplete somehow, but to fashion and craft and dig this much was something to behold when it came to pondering on how much mortal labor was put into it.

Algrim surveyed the scene and stroked his beard. “Aye, this seems large enough. Though I’d best tell ya what I want to do afore we proceed. It’s a simple plan, really. I can calm the tremours in the earth, but I can’t be everywhere toado so. So, I’ve picked out six locations, and plan ta imbue some of my power into each one, so the earth ken hold itself together even when I’m not there. This’ll be the first.”

Arira nodded in return, though after a moment of silence spoke up once more.

“Indeed, sir, but would’st you require any help in crafting this ‘anchor’ for the world?” Arira said, before staring back out a the chamber, “If your power roots the stability of this world here in part, then for the world’s sake it shall be well-protected here at the very least.”

Algrim furrowed his brow, and resumed stroking his beard. “Hm. Well, I do need to do this six times. Some ‘elp would certainly make it easier, if yer offering. An’ you could prevent anyone else from mucking about with it while I’m gone.” He looked up at her, and extended a hand. “Can you give me yer word that you’ll see it protected?”

“I give you my word that it shall be protected, and as this area already is under my constant watch I shall not falter. My people here shall too help protect it, as it shall be a sign of cooperation between myself and thee,” the goddess said, smiling a bit more as she heartily shook the Earth God’s hand, “Though pray tell...aside this matter I desireth to ask thee if thou woulds’t be willing to help craft mountain round-about here to hide this paradise and place better as well? If not all be well with thee, tis’ but a simple request on the side.”

When saying the latter thing, the goddess for a moment seemed...slightly sheepish, ever so slightly embarrassed even. Perhaps for her it was a bit of an awkward question?

“I’d be ‘appy to,” Algrim’s smile returned. “Would ye be needing that now or ken it wait ‘til I’ve finished with my plan?”

“Ah, now would perhaps be more prudent for here than later I’m afraid. With the dangers currently posed, the protection hidden deep in the mountains would be most appreciated. Of course I shall help as needed, and we all here would be most pleased to host you for your troubles at the very least.”

“Very well then. I’ll see what I ken do, after I’m done ‘ere. Could you give me your hand, lass?”

Arira nodded, gently placing her hand in that of the Earth God’s. It was soft to the touch, smooth like silk even. It was a stark contrast to Algrim’s stony skin.

“Right. Now, channel me some of yer power. As much as ye feel comfortable to spare.”

After a moment, the Earth God would begin to feel a flow of divine power entering into him. It began like a trickle, but would ultimately flow out like a great yet gentle river. Algrim closed his eyes and began to channel his own power. He opened his free hand, and a glowing purple light appeared on his palm. The glow softened, and the light faded, revealing a purple gemstone.

Algrim released her hand. “Right. That’s done. All that’s left ta do is put it on the ground.” He offered her the stone. “Would ye like to do the honours?”

The goddess nodded in return, letting out a small sigh before turning herself to face the rest of the great chamber again. She raised up the gemstone, and after a brief silver shimmer covered it the goddess began to speak. Likewise, the purple gemstone would float through the air, trailing out to the center of the immense room before slowly descending down into the ground as it began to glow.

“Oh seed of world’s stability,

Protect all with our divine nobility,

Help grant calm to world’s design,

And with splendid glory, forever shine!”

As the gem, now shining like a mini-sun almost, was fully encased in the ground...a sudden rumbling briefly shook the chamber. To the credit of its make the chamber did not crumble, but instead purple tendrils of glowing light emerged from the ground around where the gem had sunk in. Then more tendrils emerged. Then more. Then more. Many more would surged from the ground, bonding together and merging until they connected the roof and floor of the place together.

Then the light would begin to fade as the mass of purple light began to subside, and in its place was a great pillar of incredible size. It stood in the center of the chamber, top to bottom, immense in its width and decorated in gigantic designs. The designs hailed from both deities, such as wheels and cyclical depictions from the goddess, and were carved into the unnaturally one-piece and otherwise perfectly smooth pillar with a kind of grace and perfection unachievable by even the finest of mortal hands. In short, a titanic thing that radiated a divine strength and yet a divine grace that each befit and matched it’s makers (or ‘parents’) in a sense.

An unseen wave of power pulsed outward, detectable only by the two gods within its vicinity. A few moments later, Algrim breathed out a sigh of what sounded very close to relief. “The ground is quieter now.” He tapped his foot on the floor. “It worked. Good.”

“Is there anything else required, good Algrim?” the goddess asked, turning her head to look at him as she assessed the situation in her own mind as well.

“Well, I did say I’d build that mountain, didn’t I?” Algrim asked. “I’m not one ta break promises. Suppose I’d best get to it. Where do ye want it?”

The goddess gave a simple nod to Algrim.

“Round about this paradise, to shroud it at height and in view from the rest of the world. I and my people thereafter can carve out any passages outward, and further such defensive measures and creations as well.

And once thou art done, we mayest celebrate in the valley if thou desirest to take rest here before moving onward. Tis’ the least I can offer for such work, and what’er else I can’st do to assist thee at this time.”

She smiled at the other deity, smiled with such a soft and gentle smile indeed. She again took one of his hands in her own as she spoke ever so sincerely, her kind eyes radiating a kind of soft warmth from them. For a few moments, Algrim seemed to get lost in them, before suddenly he shook the feeling off.

“Aye, yer a lovely lady, an’ I’d be ‘appy to celebrate with ye. But that’ll ‘ave to wait until the crisis is past. I’ll build yer wall, carry on with my work, and then come back ‘ere. Sound fair?”

Arira’s smile widened just a little bit more at the god’s words.

“It soundeth fair to mine ears, oh Earthen Lord. Once the mountains about this place hath been raised, and the world doth no longer shake with apocalyptic fury, I shalt gladly welcome thee back to celebrate here. Such is my promise to thee.”

“Would’n miss it. Now, the mountains.”

---

Exiting the fortress, the God of Earth strode out toward the boundaries of the paradise, and began raising mountains one by one, until the entire area was ringed by a formidable circular range. Even the lowest mountain was more than high enough to conceal the tallest structure within its confines.

Once it was complete, the god then returned to the first mountain and stared at it with obvious scrutiny. Then he began to reshape it, sharpening some angles and softening others. Making it look rugged and natural, but not ugly or bland. He did the same with all the others. The labour took a full day.

Once it was complete, the God of Earth said his farewells, and resumed his journey.

---

---

---

Hours passed, then a day, as the fatigue of an almost endless race for survival ended, each member of Fein's tribe allowing themselves--for the first time in many moons--to give in to their body's needs and simply rest. All the while, the 'Caster watched over them, vigilant. Though he understood this being to be one of supreme power, he had yet to trust it. Instead, Fein had spent much of the last day in silent observation of the darkness beyond their eyes' reach. Over the hours that he'd watched, he mainly saw the colorless void of that vast expansive cavern, but in some moments, he heard--and caught brief glimpses--of something beautiful and monstrous in equal measure. On the second day, when some of his people had yet to wake, Fein became suspicious. So it was that on the third day--when his patience betrayed him--he decided that it was time to break the silence that had stretched for so long between gods and men.

"Why have you done this?" He asked, accusation in his tone--for once, his voice bereft of pain. It had been so long since he'd last spoken--and since his voice had lacked the rasp of strain and exhaustion--that he hardly recognized the sound. How was it that he'd healed so quickly? Fein frowned, but before he could truly consider the implications of his revelation, a sonorous drone echoed through the black before him.

Slowly, the sound took shape, the great voice answering his query. "Burdens too heavy to bear," rumbled the god, "...without you, they would have broken each and every one."

Fein gritted his teeth, anger welling in his chest, almost clouding his vision. He rose from the ground, pressing forth and into the murk. "How dare you!" His emotions screamed, but he had not stopped them, and so the sound carried through the mountain, reaching the monster that surely lurked within.

"You would take away the one thing they desired most, after how hard they fought to keep it?!" His voice rose into a scream of rage, the emotion let loose, yet he could not help but feel that his body was different than before. Stronger, his voice louder and more melodic than even in eons long since dead and gone. Nonetheless, he raged, and the god listened in utter silence, unperturbed. With time, Fein's fury cooled to embers, and he was left almost gasping for breath. Some few among his clansmen had approached him, Rha Lia among them. She laid a hand on Fein's shoulder and met the 'Caster's gaze. Lia gave him a sympathetic smile and nodded as if to say that it was okay.

In that somber moment, warmth blossomed in his heart, soothing the burn of his anger, calming his mind. From the emptiness beyond them, light shone, then dulled in turn. Slowly, it became a pulsing, and that sight too became a sound--throbbing gently through the stone beneath their feet. It spread, and as it did, the stone shone a glossy black, and light fled further towards the entrance. Yet the clansmen found that they could see as if a faint bluish glow had suffused the space. Fein blinked and took another step forwards before reaching out not with his body but with his mind. Slowly, ever-so-slowly, the wind picked up, and Fein closed his eyes, joining his voice with the humming intonation of that monolithic being. For the first time since the Crippling Descent in the forgotten ages now lost to the world, he sang, and with the sound, the world bent, remembering his Will.

Beside him, Rha Lia covered her mouth, going wide-eyed as wind and snow and leaves danced about her friend in dizzying patterns. Each arrangement was almost too beautiful to bear, and before she knew it, there were tears upon her cheeks. Fein's voice soared in harmony with Malath Kaal's, growing stronger by the moment. Where before the mountain simply hummed, now it almost shook beneath the intensity of their might.

The stone, now black as basalt, seemed to spread its hue unseen. Their songs gave new life and purpose unto the tiny microbes which from Malath Kaal had spawned to blacken stone and flesh. The creatures crept upon the sleeping forms of men and women who could not wake, and on them markings began to form. With each hill and valley in their music, the microbes sank deeper into the flesh of those few mortals they had touched. They wove through every cell, through hair and eyes and spine; with them came change.

The song drifted into echoing melodies, resonating through the cavern, cutting swaths of sound through the earth, melding flesh, binding bone. Those remnants of sound drifted, carried far and wide by the wind, and they touched other tribes miles askance of their location, blessing them in times of need. It faded from the cavern, but its echoes remained, calling back and forth through the mountains. It was a melody of warmth and wellness.

Fein wiped tears from his reddened cheeks, the faint wrinkles less defined than even minutes prior--before their song had started. He choked down quiet sobs and, with a gasping breath, collapsed into a huddle on the floor. For so long, Fein had sung, and the world had remained silent and dead. For so long, he had hummed and bade the trees to listen and respond--all for naught. The apocalypse, its terrible destruction, its decay, had rent the spirit of the world as surely as it had its shape. In so doing, that dying world had worn away the spirit of a man at peace, a man who had lived longer than most.

Fein cried, not for the loss he'd suffered, nor for those born or dying in a decaying world bereft of peace or even mirth. No, Fein sobbed because the Primal's arrival signaled the return of something greater: Hope.

The god's Eye opened before him, and it spoke, flesh unfurling downwards from it; first bone, then ligaments and muscle, tissues, then nerves and skin. It was almost human, but it bore four eyes, two of flesh, and two of essence transposed upon each other at the center of its forehead. Beyond this, something long and sinuous stretched out behind it and into the darkness. The Eye of Malath--now embedded into its forehead, glowed a gentle light. Its eyes of flesh were featureless and white, its lips closed, and its form utterly naked--yet still androgynous.

"You are Fein no longer," the figure said, but the voice was Malath's, shaking the cavern. Its lips did not move, but its limbs did as it knelt before the man and placed hands upon his shoulders. "Be reborn within my gaze, Aged One. Bearer of burdens, he-who-carried-knowledge thought lost. Willcaster."

Malath spoke the final word with a mix of awe and deep respect. Fein could only nod in response, but the vessel of Malath understood for it felt every sensation of the human's body. He knew the man, from every sinew to every synapse. Though Malath could not grasp entirely the power that Fein had once held--nor could the Great Presence ever truly understand the laws by which magic moved in this land of new beginnings--there were some things within his power.

So it was that his vessel began to dissolve into a haze of black limned with azure light, its essence touching once-Fein and making him anew. The glowing mist suffused the human down to the atoms of his being, then deeper into the quintessence that had wrought him. His power touched the decayed seed of divinity that had once been kindled in his soul, and then it grew.

Likes vines or nerves, something blossomed within the human's mind, taking root within his brain, then entwining with his nerves. The haze of black pressed itself upon his skin, and so like his kin, he gained markings of swirling pitch. Yet his were not like the others, they had an iridescent sheen, and they writhed and changed across his form from moment-to-fleeting-moment. He shuddered at the sensation as he felt even his heart grow steadier, his lungs stronger, his muscles better. Then sound burst from his throat in one melodious note, and the tears evaporated from his face. That single note drove the sleep from his slumbering clansmen, from the children they thought would never wake, and it ignited within each of them a fire all their own.

The cavern echoed into silence then the God of Form did speak.

"Vhan-ka, you are my children born anew," hummed the deity, his voice a quiet, deep-toned hum. They felt his words, for he knew them now as his people: His first sapient creations. Gently, what seemed an impossibly long digit of far too many joints, emerged from the formless black and rested its taloned end upon once-Fein's hair. "Meae Natah, I anoint thee," whispered the mountain, its voice a tickling wind.

Once-Fein smiled, and for the first time since his transformation, he opened his eyes--all three of them. The third was as the vessel's had been, itself a luminescent facsimile of Malath's own Eye. Meae Natah laughed, the sound filled with boundless joy, and such was the power of his voice--indeed, his Will--that his clan too came to share his joy.

"Go forth..." said the Great Presence through the din.

His work done, yet only now begun, Sa'a Malath Kaal slipped back further into his abode and dissolved into the black. Though the clan could not care to notice in their joy, the cavern they had inhabited for three days moved beneath the earth until it was far afield from the domain of Malath Kaal.

Quietly, his voice only within, the Primal sent out his first edict unto the world. It was only one word, and above all others, the Vhan-ka would feel it.

---

A shrill sound, something between a howl and a hiss, drew Ahtziri's attention away from her reverie. She turned her head to look towards the source of the sound, only to be bowled over by Pazuzu leaping into her and giving her face a long, sloppy lick--and she laughed, bringing her clawed hands up to rub his muzzle. The two rolled over one another in the dusty crags of the cave they were in, occasionally bumping into creatures that looked like Pazuzu had before he had received his Mother's blessings, and after only a few moments of raucous play the entire litter seemed to be awake and joining in on the dogpile. For the first time in her short existence, Ahtziri knew what it was to be content--she knew the feeling of love given and love received, she knew the feeling of belonging, and she knew that a mother's love was boundless. She let the scene play out just a little longer before beating her wings to gently manoeuvre the creatures away from her, and most of them simply skidded along the floor towards the edges of the spacious cavern that was their nest. One was caught by her wingtip directly, and the force knocked it up into the air with a terrible yowl--but before it could get too far, her tail whipped up to catch it and cradled it softly as its serpentine tongue licked the thing's face and all was forgiven and forgotten.

Pazuzu himself let out a quick bark, nosing towards the entrance of the cavern, and Ahtziri turned herself to look towards it. Though nothing was approaching their ersatz warren, she could intuit precisely what her firstborn meant: they would need a bigger space, now that they were able to thrive with impunity under her protection. She stood up, then hovered slightly off of the ground in order to shake the dust and dirt from herself, and whistled a piercing tone to beckon her children to her. They each made their way over to her simultaneously, bumping into one another with no heed for the limitations of the physical space or their own wellbeing, and only when Ahtziri's taloned feet touched the ground did they sit on their haunches and shuffle into a relatively even layer. She counted thirty-four of the creatures, not counting Pazuzu, and pressed her clawtips together in a brief moment of thought. If they were to make it in the world, to survive and to thrive (she knew not why this was important, only that it was), they would need to be augmented in a similar fashion to that of Pazuzu--and they would also need something or someone to watch over them when she was not present. Though the rage she felt when the humans had first cornered Pazuzu had left her and she could not even remember its white-hot sting, she remembered all too clearly the consequences of the confrontation: these mortals, wherever they were, were a threat to her children if left unanswered.

She pressed a single clawtip to her right palm, slicing across it with a deftness and conviction hitherto undisplayed. She coaxed forth a single droplet of the divine ichor that flowed within her veins, a drop of distilled deifaction, and beckoned Pazuzu forth to kneel before her. He did so quickly and obediently, twin tongues hanging from his twin muzzles, and she beckoned him to drink of her essence with a single look. His raspy tongue raked itself across her open wound, lapping up the single droplet, before Ahtziri knitted her flesh together with a thought. A deep, purple glow began within Pazuzu's maw and trickled down his throat like spreading flames, clearly visible even beneath his sinew and flesh and fur--and he let out an almighty whine as it changed something within him forever. Though his features did not explicitly change he grew to be several times larger than he previously was, now standing face-to-face with the Mother of Monsters (who herself was around ten feet tall in her humanoid form), and the sinew of his wings became wreathed in a shell of gently dancing purple flames. He opened his muzzle to bark, but instead of the guttural sound of a monster emerging came a sound he had not expected:



Two of Pazuzu's eyes looked towards his lower muzzle, and two towards his upper. He blinked once, then twice, before his eyes opened themselves incredulously wide, and he spoke again:

"I can... speak? I can... I can think! Oh, Mother, I love you so!"

Ahtziri's smile had grown equally incredulously wide at that moment, and tears of joy spilled from her eyes with no regard to what she wanted. She drew in a quick, shaky breath and pressed herself into Pazuzu's now-massive frame, openly weeping into his fur as the love she felt for her firstborn child poured from her very being. It took her a good few moments to compose herself, and as she did so the other creatures sat open-jawed, tongues lolling out of their mouths and tails wagging furiously. They growled out their unanimous approval, four yellowed eyes and four dark pupils dilating with their rapturous attention, and suddenly it was all too much for them to bear and they piled onto Pazuzu (though he now utterly dwarfed them in size) with gentle and loving nips. Blood was drawn fairly quickly, owing to Pazuzu's lack of divine resilience, and the creatures each lapped it up hungrily.

"Okay, okay! Stop!"

The last word was spoken with such intensity that the force of the noise buffeted the things, sending them further back into the walls than Ahtziri had, and though many of them let out raspy mewls of pain their tails did not stop wagging and they remained utterly enraptured by their newly empowered brother.

"Oh, Pazuzu... My beautiful, beautiful child." Ahtziri took a moment to regain her composure, swallowing and inhaling deeply, before continuing.

"I cannot be everywhere, and I cannot look after your pack to the exclusion of my children strewn across these lands. While I am gone, you must look after your brethren, the... do you have a name for yourselves, my child?"

Pazuzu's features contorted in obvious concentration, the tongue from his lower muzzle hanging out towards the left and the tongue from his upper muzzle towards the right, as he took a second to think it over.

"... hm. No, Mother, we do not. What would you call us?"

"I shall call you the Abiktu, then. You must protect them, Pazuzu, and change them as I have changed you."

Ahtziri took a step back, pressing her forehead against Pazuzu's snout for a brief moment, and turned away towards the mouth of the cave. The Abiktu all looked towards her, their forlorn gazes prickling against her skin, and she turned around for a final time.

"I will return, fret not. There is no force in this world that can kill a goddess."

Pazuzu nodded, his lower maw snapping and howling to get the attention of the others, as Ahtziri flew off into the night.

---

The winged figure of Ahtziri flew atop a great swath of barren rock, even the ruins that had littered it having been pulverised to dust. The only wind that blew was the result of her great wings flapping steadily, and her gaze was steeled as she looked down into the earth below. Thrive. The word thrummed in her skull, an invisible urging that gently tickled her consciousness with tantalising whispers of lives yet unborn and flesh yet unshaped. Ahtziri wondered in the privacy of her thoughts about the nature of her role in the world--it was simply a fundamental fact that all of the monsters of the world were her children, born or not. But if they were to truly thrive, she would have to create more: she would have to birth new horrors into the world to quell the onslaught of mortalkind's cruelty beneath an endless tide of flesh. She would have to act as steward and creator both, taking the mantle of Mother upon herself in every possible sense. The second that the thoughts crossed her mind she knew them to be inviolably true, a fundamental aspect of her being in the same way that she was divine, that she was the Mother of Monsters, that she was Ahtziri. She steeled her resolve before plummeting to the earth in a graceful (insofar as she was capable of grace) swoop, landing upon it with a thud that shook through the earth for many miles.

Ahtziri placed her hands on her belly, closed her eyes, and let the world fall away. Though she was happy to simply birth monsters into the world, the creature she had in mind was simply too large for such a feat without her shedding the constraints of the form she was in--and though there was nothing around that she could sense, some hint of restraint refused to fall away from her on that particular topic. The truth was too glorious to reveal to the world in its current state, too much for it to bear--so she focused the powers of creation coursing within her, coaxing a mote of life from her womb, and suspending it in the air. It was a tiny, fragile thing--but as Ahtziri focused and gave of herself it grew rapidly, expanding and pulsating, soft flesh emerging from it at a staggering rate and folding upon itself. The formless mass quickly took shape, stretching and elongating exponentially, until soon it was so large that it was forced to coil around upon itself to even stay within Ahtziri's field of vision. Segments of black chitinous plating grew from the soft flesh, surrounding it like ringlets of armour, and a cavernous maw filled with teeth emerged at one end while a tail tipped with an enormous stinger emerged from the other. Ahtziri screamed out with the exertion of the effort before withdrawing her magic, and the great wurm crashed towards the ground mouth-first. Its teeth began to furiously gnaw at the earth, burrowing deep into it and swallowing it, and still it took five minutes for the thing to disappear beneath the surface due to its immensity.



Ahtziri looked down at the hole that marked its ingress, momentarily staggered by the sheer size of it. She smiled to herself, proud of her monstrous creation, before flying off into the night once more.