It was with a great, deep breath that Astus finally stretched his back and stood up from his rocky, uncomfortable chair. He had a neutral expression as he let his eyes close, and then he started to work.

It was a task of massive proportions -- to build something, anything in this world with no previous infrastructure. He wasn’t the kind of God that could just conjure up metals or materials after all, so all that he had left was his determination and his knowledge.

It took time. Knowing and doing were two different things, and so through trial and error Astus managed to learn how to do things properly and efficiently. Eventually, he had set himself up a nice little base of operations. In a moderately big structure made of wooden logs, beams and the occasional stone block for foundations, Astus had managed to set up a workshop where he could refine wood logs into a number of materials, as well as manufacture glues and chisel stones and all other kinds of basic things.

The building itself, while only moderately big, had been enchanted by Astus himself in order to make it self-repairing and self-modifying, with the capability of changing its layout and colour and size whenever the owner wished it.

Of course, the surface building was only the first step. After that was all done, he began to work on the multi-level basement.



Astus had a long, bushy, flaming beard by the time he had finished working on his basement. There, he had everything he needed at the moment in order to bring his ideas to life. He sighed and wiped the sweat off his brow as he looked out at the positively massive chamber he’d cleared out. If he didn’t have God Sight, he probably wouldn’t be able to see the other side of the wall, even with the lighting he had set up.

The chamber was mostly empty at the moment, but that would soon change. Inspired by the abundance of the Galbarian lands and the industriousness of his colleague Voligan, Astus had a big initial goal. So, without further ado, the God of Industry got right into the work mindset.

The most important part to ensure the success of his new project would be to ensure that he would actually have enough materials in order to see it through to the end. So he tapped into his reserve of Monarchic Vigor and used a considerable amount to seed hundreds of areas of the Galbar with an incredible density of resources. These, he catalogued in his mind as possible places to expand to in the future, and of course he had also made sure that the area his base of operations was located in was one of those areas.

So now that he had the raw material, he had to mine it and refine it and shape it. Picking up his trusty Godnail-tipped pickaxe, he delved into the cavern system below his home.



Astus shaved the last of his beard with a bronze knife and whisked the flaming hair back into the pile without looking as he grinned at how clean his reflection looked now in the quiet surface of the pond blocking his exit out of his home. With that done, he ran his hands through his hair, picked a piece of charcoal out of between his fangs, and flew out and onto the roof.

There, he sat down and leaned back against the tiles, making sure to stuff his hand into his bowl of charcoal bits to snack on.

“It should begin… About now.” Astus said before beginning to chomp down on his well-done snack. A moment later, the earth rumbled. The whole structure began to shake, with some of the more delicate glass implements breaking. Astus paid to heed to the noise, as he knew his structure would hold. Thinking about it now, he had been lucky that the mountain he’d chosen as a home was so large, as that was the only reason he had been able to do things the way he had.

A gigantic, metallic limb broke through the side of the mountain. Then another, and then a head. Eventually the mountain wall could no longer hold and the largest landslide that Astus had ever seen began. With him absent-mindedly keeping the bigger pieces of debris clear from crushing his base, he was still able to watch as his babies, the fruits of his never-ending labour, finally stood on all their limbs and stepped out into the light. A single superheated tear escaped his right eye as his creations stood tall and mighty on the Galbarian surface.

They were truly massive--Big enough that thousands of homes could be built on their backs, and with the landslide that had just happened, they would soon have vegetation growing all over their backs as well. Their shapes and forms were diverse, and if everything worked properly, they would serve as his first subjects. They would travel the world in search of their preferred food, be that stone or sand or dirt or even water--And then they would eat, turning that food into processed materials that he would then periodically come to collect.

As he watched his twelve pets walk out into the world, he sniffled a little and his concentration broke for long enough that a large rock fell right on top of him and crushed his entire base. Almost immediately he blew the stone into dust, but the damage was done.

As he looked around himself and saw all his things --ranging from hunting trophies all the way to his super-secret stash of erotic piston drawings-- crushed beyond any repair, he rubbed his temples. “Fuck.”

The building would repair itself eventually, but there was no way to recover his prized possessions now. The sacrifices one had to make for the sake of process were indeed painful, Astus thought.

Homura was immediately delighted by Voi and his amiable introduction, her concern regarding the potentially capricious and cruel nature of the other divine had been alleviated ever so slightly. Now she was eager to uncover more of his intentions, and whether or not he may be of any assistance to her. She ardently hoped he had realized that the gods and goddesses of this new world must work together in order to avoid their mutual annihilation. She then considered additional elements to incorporate into her greeting as uncertainty on how to proceed continued to bother her... she glanced towards her empty hands, and then towards his hands hidden beneath gray gloves and pale blue sleeves. She raised one hand outwards, and reached out towards him.

"Let us clasp hands together and exemplify honor. This is the beginning of a new age of wonder. Our time has come, and there is much to be done." She spoke with a newfound resolve, and stood tall with pride as a goddess should.

Voi was slightly taken back by Homura's response. Her excitement, he was not expecting but, was a pleasant one. So Voi clasp her hand with energy, "Sure sister, let's clasp hands and celebrate this new age for all of us." Speaking with vigor, "I have already gave my part but, yes there is more that needs to be done."

Homura would feel that his hand felt weird. While it felt solid, she could feel a coldness to it and a odd sensation that she was holding on something not of flesh.

"Hmm, your aspect is that of the soul. I am seeking to seed Galbar with life, and I hope you would allow me to avail myself of your power in this endeavor. A soul should have a physical form to interact with the material world after all. I will create creatures in the image of the gods; tangible vessels for the spiritual and sacred to reside within. That is my intention." Homura held onto his hand throughout her explanation, radiating warmth and fiery passion from her palm. Her other hand was gesturing frequently to emphasize her words while her eyes blazed brightly with passion conveying her conviction.

"To create life based on us..." Voi sounding intrigued, true he did have his own plans for Galbar which included making something alive on the planet. He did not know what at the moment unlike Homura. She certainly is passionate about this, and life does need a soul to live.
"Some of the others have already started to seed Galbar with life and I have yet to add my part to it." Speaking sincerely, "I will help you with this Homura, though I have spent some of my power to create something. I still have plenty in me for this endeavor."

She simply nods as she lets go of his hand, relief washing over her. "I will gather the materials to construct these vessels, and then you can instill souls within them. I intend to offer these vassels to the other gods and goddesses, and allow them to sculpt in accordance to their desires." She continues while exuding an aura of confidence before she strides towards the sight of Galbar, then turns and glances back at Voi.. "As you have said, the journey has already begun and others have wandered ahead of us. Let us be on our way to Galbar."

Then Homura slowly raised up her hand, her palm outward and facing the void, as though she were trying to grasp something. Her eyes were closed as she summoned forth her will and divine power to create this unseen force upon a lone piece of heaven. She could feel herself be strained as she called to one of the many stars that illuminated the darkness, pulling it towards her. The immense luminous entity could not sense her from so afar, and refused her summoning.

"I am a celestial servant of the Monarch of All! I invoke His name and command you! Heed my summoning and bend to my will." Homura spoke and her words were filled with power. The solitary star finally relented and soared through the endless sea of shadows before it alighted in front of the goddess. In the lavish halls of the palace it shone with an otherworldly light that gracefully mingled and melded with the austere of the sacred architecture. The star began to dance and sing until its shape changed, and it became a golden spear that remained adrift above the goddess. Slowly it descended until it was within her reach, and Homura grasped it.

The stellar spear lacked an intricate shape, however it was inscribed with runes and intricate patterns that invoked divine vigor. Its bladed point glistened and glittered in a myriad of colors continually changing. Its length seemed to shift again and again as the goddess slowly slashed and cut around her in a reverent dance where weapon and wielder became attuned to each other. Homura could sense the life of that she held onto in her hands, its yearning for meaning that was akin to her own. "I shall name you, Daybringer."

Afterwards when she stood still, and the spear was as short as her arm, she lulled her head with a haunting smile towards Voi, and pointed Daybringer at Galbar afar and awaiting. "Shall we?" She asked the other god.

"Daybringer, a interesting choice of a name for a weapon." Weapons... he has not even considered making weapons at all. Maybe in the future but, he does not see the reason now to make one. Though the way she created it. Using a star as a core and shaping it to her will. It was quite the sight watching it all happen. Giving him ideas for the future. But, that is for later. Now is the time to forge new life.

So Voi smiling though it would be impossible for Homura to see or tell. He walked forward next to her. "Yes we shall," and Voi started to walk across the bridge to Galbar.

Together they walked for a time, under the gathering of stars and across the nothingness that was the void. It was bright and it was dark, for there was little to be illuminated and yet the radiance of the heavenly palace shone upon them. There were no turns in the path, and the two divine followed the sight of Galbar. The bridge beneath them was a construct both physical and ethereal, undefined and yet clear as they walked upon it. The goddess was grateful that it was there. Everything was quiet, and a strange melancholy seemed to linger as though painful memories pervaded existence and refused to fade; to be forgotten. Homura simply marched onward.

The void seemed incomprehensibly vast and Homura recalled that it was intended to be their prison. The void lacked meaning. It was neither beautiful nor grotesque. It was a solitary existence that was the border between creation and oblivion. Homura tightly held onto Daybringer, letting the weapon banish her dread slightly. She appreciated the presence of Voi as well, and though the other god remained an enigma, he was quite courteous and kind.

"Voi... when war rises, will you fight or flee?" She asked softly, her voice faintly echoing in the emptiness all around them. Though her weapon was weightless in her hand, it burdened her then. Those that desired peace must be prepared for war.

It was felt odd for Voi to walk on the bridge with nothing around them but the empty void. The void that was suppose to be their prison as their father said. Weird though, it did not feel like a prison but, maybe that is because he can not see walls and locked door. Either way, they have something special in this so called prison, Galbar and what they can create here. Which some of the others have already started.

"War?" Voi asked confused. What war could she mean? War with themselves? A bit unthinkable for him at the moment. Very everything still be new and fresh. Including themselves but, he has seen already some of the actions and know the aspects of his siblings. Conflict might arise between them and if such a war happens. Where would he be?

"I suppose when war comes... I will fight if I feel I need to." Sounding a bit uncertain, Voi is a watcher, a observer. Making sure that balance of live of death is in balance. Thus, he should be impartial but, if push comes to shove and matters becomes heated. Fighting is probably what he would do.

"Though I have to ask in turn, what would you do when war comes Homura"? Voi turning his head towards her, the blue lights for his eyes staring at her.

She was silent for a time, a cryptic expression upon her face as she seemed to contemplate. With her gaze upon Galbar, she attempted to answer his question with words that brought forth a forlorn, yet content look from her. "I know I would protect all of creation and seek to preserve that which is sacred. I know I would sacrifice myself to do so, fighting until I have been slain. My own annihilation does not frighten me... But perhaps peace will persist, and I will perish before I am ever called to battle."

After she had spoken, Homura danced as she walked. She seemed to soar with each step, and drifted gracefully along an unheard melody that washed over each delicate motion. She shimmered akin to the stars, and her form flowed freely. Her hands strummed silently the shadows and her skin seemed kissed by the light. Transcendence through being unshackled by unseen chains, but precariously susceptible to sinful din and discord. She embraced the fleeting joy of immersing herself in the performance before she became still, and suddenly the mystical moment of mania had come to an end.

Then the enigmatic red eyes of the goddess wandered back to Voi and confronted his ethereal blue orbs. "Would you willingly face your demise to offer salvation for others? I fight for love of life, but what would compel you to fight? Would you fight beside me?" Her voice more quiet in the profuse silence as though she spoke from afar.

Voi stayed silent as he thought of his response. What would he fight for. A question that Voi would think about as he watched Homura start dancing. A action that Voi felt mesmerize in watching. Her graceful and delicate movements. Like a artist, unshackled by rules or chains. Expressing what their heart was to express and show to the world.

A performance that Voi was unprepared when she stopped and asked another question. After a moment to think and compose himself. He spoke but this time with a voice of certainty. "Balance is what would fight for. The balance between life and death, that must be preserved. Any one that tries to change it will feel my wrath." Voi now turning his gaze to Galbar. "But, if there is a something that threatens more then the the balance. If a threat threatens life itself then I would fight and but to give my life for it."

Voi pondered for a moment, "I guess I would and I would gladly fight side my side with you. But, what will happen then? I have made a afterlife for mortals already so they have a place to go. But, what of a gods like us? Where will we go if we go anywhere all." Voi slightly tilted his head. "I could make such as a place." Turning his head back to Homura. "What is this talk of war though? Everything is so young including ourselves. Most I imagine are concerned about creating and building. Not war, so what caused you to think about a future war?"

"When I was born, I perceived my own reflection. A sight which offered me a choice; who would I be? How would I live my life? Already my mind had awakened, but I did not understand myself and I could not immediately recognize what I was seeing in the many mirrors all around. I had chosen my shape, and my aspect became clear to me in that moment. Honor. I would honor myself, honor the world, I would be honorable. overwhelming was the joy of meaning, but... to know honor, I must know its opposite." Daybringer glowed with a baleful light before Homura hastily lifted its point toward Voi. The weapon extended, closer and closer to him until it nigh touched his chest as the starmetal uttered menacing whispers woven into a harrowing melody. The warmth of her presence vanished, and only an apathetic cold fire remained in her eyes, her impassive stance.

"There is hatred beside love, cruelty beside compassion, avarice beside altruism. War was born when peace was, and then the great battle of the cosmos began. It seemed an insidious poison had been poured into the decanter of creation. Nihilism and annihilation. We are the wanderers walking upon an unknown path; we know not what truly awaits us as we travel further and further ahead. Now we must speak softly, and become as strong as we can become, if we wish to travel very far. I have pondered this, and concluded that I must be ever ready to honorable fight as a divine warrior, otherwise I suffer the risk of a foolish defeat." The red goddess exuded dogmatic devotion, but shifted to wistful pensiveness when she finished speaking. She lowered her weapon then averted her gaze from Voi. The blade of Daybringer changed color once more, and the vicinity was bathed in its gentle radiance. Homura continued to walk afterwards.

"I... I see Homura," not quite sure of what to said in response to what she said and stopping his tracks. Her devotion and her point was clear to him. It made him think about his own birth. Being in that shard as his mind awaken before natural forming his current form. It was blurry at first, only hearing parts of what the Monarch of All. Then he started to grow and things became more clear to him. Up to finally shattering his shard and coalesce into his form. Knowing what aspect he was and what that means. A soul, a intangible and immortal thing that all living thing needs to survive.

"Still, what Homura said about knowing the other side of it. The opposite side of honor but, what is the opposite side of a soul? The thought puzzled him, what could be the opposite of a soul? Nothingness? A tangible temporary thing but what would that even be called? Voi did not know as it seemed alien to him.

Snapping back to reality and catching up with her and sounding serious, "I see you have put more thought into things then I have. Something that I should do to. Like what happens if I die and the balance becomes distorted." Gears turned in his head, perhaps a contingency be put into place to save or restore the balance if he dies. "Still, I see your point Homura and will ponder on things." His tone shifted from serious to relaxed. "But for us and near future, let us focus on adding our parts to Galbar and your own creations, these vessels of yours." Voi said and continued to walk along side her.

His voice alleviated her solemn introspection, and quickly rekindled her familiar resolve. She smiled slightly, and nodded in appreciation of his presence. "Thank you. I am inexperienced in the art of conversing, and I cannot accept alienating others now. Before I go on, I must apologize if I have acted either clumsy or crude." Her words were accompanied by a respectful bow as she came to a halt once more. She arose and her cheeks were tinged with a bashful red, and a demure gaze in her conflicted eyes. "Forgive me for my foolishness."

She seemed unfazed when the light of the stars suddenly dimmed and the continual silence was broken by the distant roar of the abyss. Galbar loomed like a colossus, an enormous yawning presence that pulled on them with its breath. Despite wandering no farther after her apology, the god and goddess had reached the end of the celestial bridge and now stood upon the edge. It did not connect physically to the planet, but remained hanging high above its surface. Homura remained impassive to the planet, committed to mending her mistake.

Voi held his hand up as to reassure her, "Now now, it is no problem to me, we all have our thoughts and feelings. Though next time, please do not point your weapon at me." Voi said with a hint of uneasiness. Returning to sounding friendly and looking down at Galbar. "Looks like we have reached the end of the road". Voi made a small chuckle and turned to look at Homura. "Time to see the planet for ourselves and leave our mark before the others make anymore changes." Voi briefly sighed at the thought of Sala adding more of her salt to the world. "See you on the ground," and with that Voi took a step off the bridge. Effortless flying down to the surface.

She blinked upon watching him walk off the edge and fall from sight until her body moved of its own volition and she was peering down at the descending god. "Oh." She simply said before she stretched out her limbs, Daybringer pointed downwards in her hands. There was a burst of power as the golden spear stirred and began to swiftly elongate, faster and further with thunderous force until the weapon reached from the sky and struck the land, the length of its shaft too far for any mortal eyes to perceive.

She stepped off the bridge, but remained balanced upon her spear. She was then lowered as the weapon became shorter as quickly as it grew, and she plunged down to the planet beside Voi. Homura looked upon what her fellow divine had created, and contemplated how to interweave her own creations into the world. There was life and there was land, the sea and sky seemed to merged and interlace with a vast amount of salt. The seeds had been sown, and the goddess was inspired at the sight of such cosmic wonder. The two gods soon approached the largest landmass.

Her feet touched the ground as her spear closely matched her own height, and she unearthed the holy weapon. She looked across the land bathed in the light of the stars, and graced with the plants birthed by the power of Phelenia. Serene and gorgeous, Homura was greatly pleased to walk along the grass and among the wild flowers that bloomed in her presence. Daybringer glimmered in her hand, and unleashed its prismatic light upon the flora, now a dancing sea of colors after the artifact had suffused them with its radiance.

It was quite the sight, seeing Galbar from this close. Before he had been watching it from afar. Watching what his fellow gods did with the blank canvas that is Galbar. Seas, land, salt, and green plants. It made him think what he would contribute to this young world. Which he still is thinking about. But, for now, helping Homura with her project is his focus.

Which once he noticed her making her descent. Voi moved to be along side her and follow where she would land. With Homura landing first before him. Landing with grace next to her. The first thing he did was take a look around. Phelenia certainly outdid herself, Voi thought. Their lush surroundings a testament to what good the gods can do to this world. Unlike some of the gods.

Turning his gaze towards Homura and saw how pleased she seemed. What is there not be to pleased with he thought. This land was fresh and alive, unlike the barren wasteland that Sala helped make. Still, this is a start and Voi was eager to begin their work. So he walked over to Homura with a friendly sounding voice. "I see you are taking in the sights and unless you wish to wait, how about we start this endeavor of yours?"

"The resilient earth, the wandering water, and the endless sky, all will be needed." Homura answered Voi as she held out her palm from which sacred fire emerged, yearning to consume and dancing with relentless passion. "Life is akin to these flames; its hunger is ever boundless and it burns all that it touches. It fears choking upon nothing, and drowning in its despair. The fire must feed for now." The earth then shook and was upheaved into the air, while water from afar suddenly soared through the sky towards the two divine. The bright blazing fire Homura held became greater and illuminated the vast fields around them.

Stone and soil gathered around the edges of the flames which hissed and whispered, fiery tongues reached out to sear the flying debris. Water quickly arrived and doused the flames that touched the earth, then steam arose from their violent interaction. The red goddess called forth massive pillars that burst forth from the ground and stabbed into the light, their long shadows streaked across the land like serpents of the void. Many rocks crumbled and melted, much water evaporated, and the fire seemed buried beneath the cacophony of elements. "Merge into life!" Homura commanded the conjured forces.

Stone became white with heat, water burned red, and wind whispered many secrets, as fire was trapped within a prison forged from the other three. Its cage was shaped similar to the goddess, but lacked her red hair and garb, lacked her curves and expression, and it remained pale white even after the heat had faded and was no longer quite what it was before. The simple vessel remained in the air, encircled by lingering elements and light that repeatedly pulsed with divine energy. A myriad of mirrors manifested around the vessel, reflecting its form from thousands of ways, and Homura patiently peered at it from every perspective. "Will this suffice?" She asks as her gaze turned to Voi.

"It will suffice," Voi said as he gazed upon the finished vessel. Forged by the combination of the elements and looking like Homura. Minus some details of course, and Voi prepared to add his part to this empty vessel. He raised one of his hands to about chest level and held it out. Quickly colorless energy started to form in his hand. It slowly growing in size and strength until it stabilized and almost showed a rainbow of colors from its form. "Now let the first life be born." Was all he said as he sent the energy to the vessel and it merged with the vessel.

Then there was a deep hum that resonated across the horizon, as the land ruptured and many more vessels emerged from the bones of the earth. Colossal rivers reached from the sea and shattered into rain that fell upon the vessels. Mighty gales wove and weaved in between and through the assembly, each vessel seemed to be filled and emptied as though they breathed. Then the great fire that engulfed the first vessel spread across the fields and scorched the gathering of statues. "A thousand, thousand vessels to spread across Galbar, and each shall have a soul." Homura proclaimed before the the immense inferno, a million dark shapes still visible in its dynamic form. The flora and earth around the divine remained untouched by the firestorm, its burning touch proved harmless.

Time seemed to stand still in that moment, and the fire raged on for an eternity, as earth, sky, and sea surged forth to satiate its endless hunger, then moment passed, and fire became embers before fading into cinders. The multitude of vessels remained, stained pale white with ash and motionless. They filled the fields, accompanied by the flowers and grass that had been unbothered by the sacred flames, and silence seemed to smother what was left of the energy in the area. Homura quietly walked through the field and examined numerous vessels with a keen gaze. "They remain dormant and dreaming until the fire within them rekindles. These vessels are malleable, capable of changing to the desires of any divine that cultivates them. They shall be worthy of becoming our instruments, I believe." Her voice filled with pride, as she speaks to Voi.

"We will see Homura, but, I have hope for them". Voi said confidently as he walked around the vessels. Carefully inspecting each one as he passed by them. Each one he can see a soul in them, each one a different color from the last and taking the shape of their vessels. Each one was marvelous, the first mortals with souls and thus life. But, there was one thing left to do and Voi knew what that was.

"Just one thing left to do for me", Voi said as he once raised both of his hands to chest level. Both his hands start to glow with blue energy and as he focused. It grow bright and started to pulsate until it reached a breaking point. At that point the lights in his lights moved above them and merged into a single bright blue orb. At that point Voi motioned his hands like he was ripping something apart and the orb briefly expanded before exploding. Its light expanding outwards before disappearing. "There," Voi said sounding a bit tired. "Now any new life that is created, born or other will have a soul."

Voi turning his gaze towards Homura, "While that is the last for me, there is still one more thing to do. Homura these are your creations and I think the honor of naming them should be you. What should we call these new life?"

A gentle breeze stirred her hair, and it fluttered behind her like a scarlet serpent. She smiled softly with content, surrounded by the dormant vessels like a mother surrounded by her sleeping children. She had easily embraced their silent companionship, finding a profound sense of serenity while among them and her heart began to beat with anticipation as she envisioned their fates woven into the world when they awoke.

"I shall call them humanity." Homura answered without elaborating further, and stepped towards Voi with her hand held out once again. Her eyes shimmered and remained radiant, but could not conceal the slight sorrow she felt upon realizing that their time together had come to an end for now. "Thank you, Voi - God of Souls." Her voice hid any forlorn thoughts much more effectively than her eyes could, as she spoke with a joyful sincerity.

"Humanity," a good name Homura." Voi said with satisfaction. "Though you do not have to include my aspect when addressing me. Voi my name will suffice Homura." Voi would smile here but, it would be impossible for her to see it. So he simply walked over to Homura and held out his hand. "We did some good work here and I have to admit I will miss our time here. So do not be a stranger will you," warmth coming his voice.

"We will meet again." She replied, and simply shook his hand after she had concluded that an introduction and a farewell should share the same gesture as though that would substantiate her hope that their paths would cross again. Gentle amusement continued to tug her lips into a gracious grin as she lets go, and allowed the god to make his departure. The red goddess waved her arm towards the vast horde of ashen bodies. "Will you keep any of these vessels?" She asked as she shifted her stance and idly leaned her spear against her shoulder.

Voi took a long look over at the humans before looking back at Homura. "I think I will take some of these vessels. I have some plans and these vessels could do apart of them. Or at least I can give them a home in this world." Looking back over to the humans. "The least I can do and trust they will be well under my care." Turning back his gaze to her, "now I must go and may we meet again." With that Voi did a brief bow before departing with a number of vessels in tow by flying. Leaving for a unknown destination.

Homura watched as he soared away, then nodded to herself with resolve before she prepared herself for her new objective; the spreading of humanity. Her senses reached out across Galbar, and she listened as her fellow divine enacted their will and created more and more. The earth rumbled and roared, waves crashed against the shores, and powerful gales blew cold and wild. She would have to ascertain how to travel this world with the vessels if she wanted to succeed in her task. "The others await. It is time to go."

---

The ring had been secured.

Well, as secure as a ring of loose ice, stone, and salt could be, floating in a vast empty void through which any god like himself could freely roam.

But it would do.

He needed a place. A place where there would always be shade against the sun. The sun was his creator's creation, and no doubt one his creator did not wish for him to interfere with. But this was not interference. It was merely a shelter. A shield. One that ultimately only covered a small portion of the world. Besides, there was beauty in darkness. His maker had to understand that. Otherwise there would be two suns, or the world would have been flat.

It was time to get to work.

He shifted into the inky black mass, and then began to expand himself along one section of the ring, filling the gaps in between the chunks. Then, he focused. A wave of black energy shot down the ring, generating a field of darkness down the entire length, and extending a fair bit beyond the ring's actual width as well.

This field served a dual purpose. The first purpose was to serve as a tether between the chunks of the ring, so that they could not be easily ripped away. The second purpose, however...

The second purpose was to serve as a shield against the sun. At night-time, there would be no difference; allowing the moon and the stars to remain visible. When the sun rose over a section of the ring, however, the shield would activate, and blot out its light. The heat and the energy would still be allowed to slip through, so that the vegetation below would not wither and die, but most of the light would be stopped. The sun itself would remain visible, but as a pale orange rather than a bright yellow fire; no brighter than the moon itself. This would in turn allow the stars to remain visible as well.

Constant night. And one that would not be completely without light, nor deprive the world of the sun's heat. Yes, that seemed fair.

"I name this the Black Ring," he announced, to no one in particular.

Satisfied with his work in the sky, Zelios finally descended down to Galbar.

There was other work to be done.

---

---

---

The prison began to take shape, beginning to be populated and decorated in mass by the gods that had been summoned forth by the Monarch of All’s own body, yet there was still much that needed to be wrought for a world that was coming to fruition with each and every passing moment. His eyes studied the ball with intent, traveling down the newly formed continents that were wrought by Voligan, and toward the great tree in the south that had been spawned by Aethel. It was a beginning, one that He hoped would last indefinitely into the countless aeons that would proceed this moment, though this beginning of His came at a cost as His eyes settled upon the great watery expanse that was the ocean. A great sadness rippled through His being, knowing that death seemed to be an eventuality for even the gods that had spawned from His mighty form. A hand went to touch the outer edges of the wound upon His chest, allowing mortality to become a temporary thought as He stared at the great pison ahead of Him.

It was a wretched realization, that the Monarch of All had hoped that He could be saved from His own mortality and inevitable death. Such things were often cast to the back of the Great Being’s mind, shunted from existence by pure force of an almighty will alone, and yet, it seems to work its way back time and time again. The Monarch of All knew he needed to distract himself from this malaise, knowing that to succumb to the ponderance of the mortality of gods was to allow the prison to win and the Monarch of All was determined to continue on. So, He looked away from Galbar and those that had departed from His palace, choosing to look to His throne before the light gazed upon those that remained within. A new feeling stirred within Him, a great impatience at those that have yet to depart to Galbar along with the rest of their peers. Had He not given them their orders? Had He not proclaimed to them that they must go and create upon Galbar? The Monarch of All outstretched the four great arms of His body as He beckoned their attention, allowing all to gaze upon His magnificence and opulence. Only when their gaze met His did the Monarch of All choose to speak His declaration.

’I shall depart from the palace, my subjects! For the time being I will keep the bridge open to use, but, should I come back and see you all still here, know that I shall punish you for negligence of duty. You were all spawned to create upon the Galbar, not to malaise in my palace!’

The Monarch of All was then gone from sight, abandoning those that remained to their own devices for the time being as He moved at full haste towards Galbar and let His own curiosity roam free. Eventually, he came to a stop above one of the continents formulated by Voligan, inspecting it and making note of the design of each and every coast, every plateau and mountain top; each crevice and ravine were laid bare to His all-seeing eyes. The Monarch of All allowed himself a moment to bask in the beauty of this newly found nature and so delighted was He that He felt the need to explore it all, to experience it as if He were but a mere ant lost in the grandeur of it all. Yet, He reeled in His desires for experience, pulling back the innate wanting to feel more, as He knew that He had a duty to the world and the subjects that made His court. The Great Being knew that should He give in to that temptation, then He would roam Galbar for constant ages doing nothing more than exploring the planet from a mortal’s own view.

Yet, such architecture was not lost upon the Monarch of All, as He careened the coastline at such speeds that the waves themselves went further inland, or were driven back entirely if He veered closer to the land. The Monarch came to a sudden stop at an inlet, safe from the trepidations of the water outside and noticed a serene calm brought upon a world that was just getting over its destructive makings. He graced the planet with an unseen smile as He watched the day pass into night and once more and again, merely taking in the beauty and calm before He came to a decision.

An announcement spread across the planet, letting all those divine know,

’Voligan, God of Earth, for the beauty of these continents and bringing together your peers for such an undertaking, you are bestowed the title of the Great Bearer of Lands, come to me and I shall grant you this title more formally! May your efforts inspire your equals and urge them to conjure things as great as these lands!’

He allowed a moment of respite after the announcement, taking a moment to shrink His form to walk along the beach of the inlet, noting how much the prison that He inhabited has already improved. The Monarch of All looked to some of the fauna that had been seeded, stopping His gaze at a tree that stood mighty and strong. It cast a long shadow over the inlet, standing alone as the shade moved to touch the base of the Great Being’s form, causing Him to look upon it with a slight disdain before backing away. There was still more to do, too much to check upon, but the tree reminded Him of that great tree of Aethel, with its roots spread all across the prison that was Galbar. With a thought, He moved once more and turned to face the direction of the tree, his haste creating towering waves over the water.

It was but a few scant moments until He reached the tree, though, rather than going to the tree itself, the Monarch of All dove towards the water at the last moment, parting the liquid before he made contact. He travelled along the side of one of the massive roots that anchored it to the prison, moving down further and further until water gave way to rock and rock gave way to metal. All parted for the Supreme Being’s coming, moving away from the path of the Lord as if the inanimate had become animate until He reached the very core of the Galbar, willing a massive cavern to reveal itself so that He may see how the very roots of the tree interacted with the center of the prison. There was no scratch, no damage, to the realm’s center and with that He gave but a small sigh of relief, thankful that nothing had compromised the integrity of His cage. A small chuckle escaped Him as a voice echoed throughout the cavern in a muse, His glare still set upon the core of his prison.

’It sure has been a long while.’

---

She had achieved a kind of peace in the mantle, it was calming to be tired and drained from so much action, she felt she had almost a handle upon the thrumming if she could just get a little bit more of control over it…

’Voligan, God of Earth, for the beauty of these continents and bringing together your peers for such an undertaking, you are bestowed the title of the Great Bearer of Lands, come to me and I shall grant you this title more formally! May your efforts inspire your equals and urge them to conjure things as great as these lands!’

She hissed and roared as the voice split through Galbar driving her from her reverie, the thrumming coming once more upon her as well. She spewed heat and form, driving north in a pulse of action, although it lasted only a moment it was enough. Breaking through the mantle a plume of magma flowed through the crust of the planet, the earth gave way to the pounding heat and driving flow of the magma. A new deep and hot tunnel barely connected to the network that enshrouded beneath so much of the continental lands.

Molten salt and stone, metal, and things beyond the course biome that had been established previously with that odd character Arvum. It would make good environs for her children in a time when other life came to it, reaching so much further north it might even connect something unknown there. A pulse her in mind made her intuit that such a thing was a consideration of the future.

She turned her body diving back up through crust and earth as the thrumming was upon her in full force once more, she had to find a place for it, for something different and elsewise needed…

Staring out over the First Farm, Arvum clutched a small crystal within the palm of his hand. His attention turned to a small fire, dried grass slowly burning within a hole encircled by stones. A small slab of stone rested above the flame, used to dry out thin slices of xo meat on top of it. It reminded him of Yoliyachicoztl and the promise that he had made to the Lady of Billowing Heat. Glancing back into his palm, his work had been completed.

While he had experienced the wilderness of his creation, he shaped the gemstone to contain the potential of sapient life in the image of his mortal guise. He had enjoyed his time along the plains, but he had learned all that he needed to learn. He knew that he could not directly lead his inheritors once they awakened. If he did, they would grow dependent upon him, and it would compromise their freedom of choice. Nor could he live along them without leading them, they needed time to grow apart from him. He also knew that Galbar required his diligent hand. There was still much work that he needed to perform elsewhere.

As he worked upon creating sapient life, he become more aware of their limitations. Thus, he used a small spade to dig a hole rather than using his bare heads. The spade was made of commonly available bone, hemp and stone. Perhaps it was rather pointless considering he would soon abandon his mortal form, but he thought that he should appreciate his last night before his divine toil continued. He placed the crystal into the soil, his godly power entering it, causing its color to shift from quartz white to the same golden brown as his eyes. Even after he had buried it, the soil radiated his holy color.

There was one last thing he needed to do. His inheritors would require his knowledge and wisdom, "I was born in a place further than the sun, in a majestic palace adorned in fineries. However, I knew that was not my place and wandered to Galbar."

He continued to his story, about how he adorned his cloak with grass, wandered into the molten depths and shaped stone and metal into vegetables, the creation of the First Farm and his days within the expansive plains including his taming and care of several animals, such as horses and sheep. He had glossed over the first bits, but he had went into great detail about his experiences within the plains. That was the knowledge that they required to thrive within the plains.

He finished with, "As I gave name to these fields, I give name to my inheritors. I grant you the name of the realm, Eidolon. While others may live within it, and you may live apart from it, you and your inheritors shall be the rightful owners of the plains."

The sun's rays moved across the terrain, welcoming the beginning of a new day. Arvum vanished, having discarded his guise and moved elsewhere. The buried crystal's radiance expanded, until it had spent all of the divine power stored within it and faded from the world. From this act of creation, the Eidolon were born.

Rosalind’s impact had gouged a great cavity into the moon. Debris had been scattered across the entire lunar surface, and the fevered heat of the dancing goddess’ feet had spread into the crust and melted much of the surface there. Nestled warmly in the crater-crucible, Yudaiel dreamt. Beneath her, the surface slowly grew colder.

Much time had passed, but it meant little to the goddess. She was somewhere else, locked in a prescient reverie, her essence confined to today even as her mind was free. She wandered into the possible futures that lay ahead, and occasionally delved into the past. The past was a fearsome place if she looked back too far; the shadow of that terrible thing she’d first witnessed alongside Rosalind still loomed back there, and she dared not look at it too closely -- not yet -- but one day she would make sense of it. That wasn’t just a promise she’d made unto herself or an endeavor that she wanted to undertake; it was destiny. She knew this because she could turn her head away from the foreboding shadow of the past, but when she looked to her future it was there too, or at least a dark reflection of it. Each fork in the many paths before her seemed to lead there, and she recalled that ideabstraction that had been chiseled into her mind by Iqelis: the great black sea of ink that drank all rivers. But just as she had scoffed in his face then, she refused to accept inevitability now. If Fate existed, it was her; if destiny was a force, it was directed by her guiding hand.

So she gazed into the abyss of the future, searching tirelessly every which way for alternative paths that remained in the light and steered well clear of that looming darkness, of the horrors that lurked within...and she found utterly nothing. She refined her calculations, searched through the past to glean more knowledge, and thrust herself into the future to try anew. It was all to no avail! Crazed, she tried again and again, but her efforts bore no fruit. She only solidified the seeming inevitability of that path she had seen, digging deeper and deeper into the hole of her own anxiety and fear.

Most frustrating of all was the subtlety, the smoke and mirrors! When she cast her gaze too far, she saw only vague silhouettes and ghostly projections...the landscape itself likewise appeared indistinct and half-formed; all was obscured by a great blur. There might have been paths rarely trodden, or tiny and hidden places where she could blaze her own detour, but it was impossible to discern any such details for sure. Greater knowledge expanded her Sight and remedied the haze, but how might she ever know enough to See all things? A revelation came: she slowly recognized that her existence in this limited, weak, near drunken state was torment. How could her Blind peers suffer their even worse states? It was maddening!

Her thoughts shedded away all lucidity and order, becoming primal tempests. Suddenly overcome with despair, she felt constricted despite her vast and formless nature. Though she had never drawn a breath before, she found herself thinking that this must be what it felt like to suffocate -- her body and mind screamed in unison, begging for release, and she flailed with strength that she’d never known she possessed, breaking through the surface of the metaphorical lake that had been drowning her. The nightmare ended and the prescience ceased as she shattered her way back into Reality and the present, wailing hysterically and thinking only that the world was too small.

More time passed. In such a fragile mental state, she defied reason and logic and calm, and she danced. Her thoughts coursed through the lunar dust, stirring and charging and animating it, and her ephemeral essence whirled and distorted the light so that from afar the moon twinkled and shimmered, just slightly, like those distant stars.

Yudaiel’s waltz was a crazed and hectic one, not unlike Rosa’s uncontrolled thrashing -- but perhaps that was good, for the motion seemed to let her shake free of at least some of the worries and hysteria that had weighed her down. She finally came to a stop after a long time; she had felt joy there for an instant, but now it was gone. She was all alone on the moon, silently lamenting and sulking in her dulled anguish as her so-called divine peers ambled about their business obliviously, toiling to build tiny and vaporous monuments out of metaphorical fog, incapable of even imagining the immortal and grand works that she longed to hew from stone.

She meditated next. She stretched and became thinner and thinner, a nebulous haze larger now than the whole of the moon, and became almost one with the void of space. She found peace, and so at last contracted back into a denser clump so that she could think clearly.

More time passed. The moon had entirely cooled by then, its surface once more bone-white and beautiful in its purity, even as a few dark spots and lines now marred the chipped jewel. It could not regenerate; as she had forged this celestial body more from materials she’d willed into existence than from those she’d manage to gather and guide through the process of accretion, the moon was largely cold and solid and inert, all the down all the way to the very core where there was still some molten metal. Still, though time could not mend her moon’s wounds and it was destined to only try and remain beautiful and proud even in imperfections, her wounds could heal. In time she settled and found her calm again. Her mind and her power were perfect and timeless and beautiful; nothing could truly stop her, she genuinely believed, and that was just one of the many reasons that her aspect was grander than all others and her status likewise elevated beyond those peers of hers.

And just what was that insect Iqelis doing? The Great and All-Seeing Eye opened anew, and it cast a piercing gaze towards the Galbar. Just as she had formed the moons, some of the others, most spearheaded by Voligan, had formed vast landmasses to help fill that otherwise empty world. Her farsight was powerful, potent enough that she could perceive -- even from her perch upon the moon -- the goings on over at that other world. Space and darkness and time offered little camouflage before her gaze, so she watched.

It was as though she stood beside Astus as boiling drops of sweat rolled off his brazen brow, him toiling endlessly to erect some vast factory complex. It was of course nothing before the opulence and beauty of her moon, or the splendor of the Monarch’s palace, but some were condemned to mediocrity and she could surmise that this ‘Astus’ cared little for aesthetics. The Reverberation might have crawled back through time to watch Astus from the very beginning, to pick apart why he chose this location and perhaps determine what he intended to do next, but there was little time. So her gaze shifted, and she followed Phelenia, who spread verdant life across all barren places (such a peaceful and simple existence! But how could that possibly be fulfilling for a god?); she Saw also Yesaris, who created life and then ravenously devoured it through a thousand maws; not so far away was Arvum, who instead sowed seeds to cultivate nourishing food and grassland alike; in the north she Saw not one but two deities bestride one another, and she surreptitiously bore witness to their heartfelt farewells and Zenia’s departure. Her curiosity aroused, she peered back in time from there.

At first she had cast her gaze a bit too far to the side, and so she found herself besides one called Ruina as she hurled destruction and chaos down upon the still-watery surface of the Galbar, rending holes in the very ocean itself before proclaiming the ‘test’ to be a success. The goddess of destruction then retired to rest afterward. Yudaiel Saw her bathing, and saw the Monarch’s arrival, and she listened to their conversation and scoffed at the petty trinket that He gifted unto her. What use was such a paltry device when compared to her Sight, to prescience? That foolish Ruina needed only to open her eyes and See, then she could cast aside that bauble and know the Monarch for the tyrant that he truly was. Bemused if nothing else, Yudaiel grew tired of watching Ruina and so diverted her attention elsewhere. She looked forward a bit, feeling relieved to see the continents still taking shape mostly unimpeded by the holes in the oceans.

The prescient goddess soon managed to find what she had been looking for, that moment when Zenia and Chailiss had first chanced across one another. Yudaiel followed their journey, enjoying the journey even as she observed the temperaments of her two siblings carefully. She shared in their mirth and triumph as they’d risen and sculpted that northern landscape. She skipped forward a bit, to the time after they had populated their new creation with gigantic life. To them she was just a stranger, Yudaiel realized, but she already had seen so much that she now felt as though she knew them both intimately.

As she mulled over that strange state of affairs and struggled to decide how she ought to act whenever she inevitably met with and interacted with them directly, Jiugui caught her attention once more. Ah yes, she had seen that one drunkenly making his way down the bridge even as she and Iqelis had raced towards the Codex! The past and present merged together and she similarly traced his goings and his trail, trying to see all that she had missed, playing a game where she guessed what he might do and where he might go next -- so absent-minded was Yudaiel, or perhaps just so alien was her thinking, that she thought nothing as she spied him soil himself a few times, adjust his robes, and create many a few new streams, and even a few curious brown piles of...living creatures? Ah, and these creatures were sapient! Far more than the mere animals that already abounded that northern country, these intelligent mortal beings had great potential, and perhaps collectively could weave a great deal into the tapestry of reality. They were something to be studied, accounted for, perhaps even directed, and certainly not overlooked. She would have to inspect them closely sometime soon, and perhaps she would open their eyes.

The thought occurred to Yudaiel that she had not found Iqelis; as the closest thing that she had to a true rival, his doings were of paramount importance to track, and yet disturbingly she saw no wake of gloom or destruction that he had wrought. He was biding his time in silent and slothful wait, risking the ire of the Monarch -- or more likely, he was planning something and presumed to hide from her. A futile and foolish notion! If ever he intended to thwart her machinations or in any way plot against her, his needle would inevitably stray close to hers as their threads in the tapestry intertwined, so it was only a matter of opening her perception wider and viewing the full chaos of Reality -- and sure enough, she did determine that he was meddling. But his was not the only one!

Many threads and needles loomed near to her own place in the tapestry of Reality. There was Rosa’s, drifting away, its thread disentangling free from Yudaiel’s own as the Feverfoot sailed in that little boat down to Galbar. And then there was Iqelis’ close by to another’s -- Ruina, she sensed. Iqelis was not plotting alone; he sought to join forces with that presumptuous witch! That same goddess that had sundered Ao-Yurin’s oceanic demesne now entertained the idea of practicing her craft again, putting the beautiful moon to the ‘test’? Yudaiel blinked, seeing nothingness for an instant before the image of another great impact flashed before her. More chips upon the jewel...Yudaiel wondered if this was worth fighting for, if she ought to intervene and prevent this hideous disfigurement of her home and art, but everything was so, so blurred in her vision. All of the rage from her hysterical bout before began to bubble back. She looked for the source of it, and found it -- another thread, another needle, another Shard that radiated a throbbing pain. Yudaiel felt a primal fear and fury overcome her.

More alarming and threatening than any of the moving pieces, or petty plots or portents of Ruina’s coming defiling of her moon, was Yudaiel’s discovery of Ashevelen. She expanded her mind and absorbed everything that there was to know about this perfidious Lady Luck. The one history, the malleable present, and the infinite futures were all juxtaposed and arrayed before her prescient Sight:

---

---

Ashevelen was not even a child, nor was she a golden orb of light. She was a Shard, just one of many, and she was so, so weak. The light of her Shard began to dull; she was dying. Yudaiel was filled with relief, but that soon turned to horror. With her dark powers, the quasi-sentient Shard-that-would-be-Ashevelen willed another Shard to stray in its path just a little, and when the two prismatic gems collided, hers completely devoured and consumed that other Shard. And then she was born, smug and aglow, dismissing her heinous murder and cannibalism as mere luck.

Shivering hot pain stabbed through Yudaiel’s consciousness at the mere image of Ashevelen, and she succumbed to her hatred, screaming madly. Her scream was so loud that it tore the universe asunder, and all became black.

---

---

Yudaiel’s nightmares and dreams ended. Lucid, dangerously lucid, she knew that she had to launch a retaliatory strike. She had to strike with deadly precision, and strike hard -- a preemptive blow to slay her foe before that terrible enemy could even realize that their deadly duel had begun. But how?! How could she destroy a god? What were the moves when one was locked into such a deadly dance?

Would Ashevelen’s destruction even be enough? What if another claimed the power of that Shard and simply assumed her place? She had to destroy the very force of Luck itself, for that was anathema to her existence and to prescience, and so long as it existed she could not breathe. There was not enough space!

Her racing mind finally arrived at an answer: yes, perhaps there was a way. There existed an object that just might have enough power, and if not, it would magnify her Sight and enhance her knowledge enough to at least offset some of this blur, to at least buy some more time before she was consumed by madness...

She required Epsilon’s creation, the Codex.

Homura

Homura walked along the shore as she contemplated how she would transport the many humans across Galbar, the details of the operation requiring more finesse than she had initially expected. The created mortal vessels were fragile, and the red goddess quickly surmised that none would survive the journey if she simply carried them all. However, her efforts would not be in vain in an act of divine providence, and she would find a solution as something suddenly caught her attention far beyond the edge of the horizon.

Homura allowed herself to smile, as she held out Daybringer and the weapon began to blaze brightly with its celestial light. Power hummed violently in the air; the only forewarning before a burst of cosmic power was unleashed, and the golden spear in the hands of the red goddess stretched forth across the vast sea towards the unseen. Farther and farther it reached, until the its point had vanished over the horizon and only the eyes of the goddess could perceive where it went. The shaft had then broken into segments, held together with massive chains, as Daybringer curved along the surface of the planet during its journey.

The spear lunged towards massive creatures that had wandered the oceans of Galbar in search of their preferred food. Homura knew not which divine had created such life, but she sought to use these beings as a simple remedy for the complicated task of transporting her humans. Her weapon began encircling the colossi, its chains forming circles and weaving around their limbs and bodies. Three of the giants then found themselves bound as they slowly marched onwards unaware of what had trapped them, until the chains around them lifted them from the oceans, and brought them back to the red goddess.

Upon returning, the chains of Daybringer released the titanic creatures, depositing them in the sea with the crashing of waves and rumbling of the earth announcing their arrival. Homura called forth sand and stone to stand against the great watery tides surging towards the land. The two primal forces collided and clashed, until the sea had relented, and Homura stood upon the shore shrouded in sacred flames. She gazed upon the three behemoths that became lethargic after their short ordeal, her presence compelling them to bow and await her commands.

"Come forth, immense beasts of burden! Carry the seeds of humanity across Galbar!" Her edict echoed far, and was heard in the hearts of the three colossi. Their minds were malleable to her words, and their thoughts were guided by her voice. They had understood her command, but remained still. Homura called forth more of her power and the land arose as three massive bridges formed and connected to the giants, one to each of the three colossi. "Now is the time to awaken." She whispered to herself.

The red goddess turned to her own creations scattered across the fields, and approached them, of the one million she had forged, nine hundred and ninety-six thousand remained. She stood before three, and pondered how to proceed as the faceless pale statues seemed to simply ignore her. Her memories of her own birth inspired her, and she prepared herself for what was to come.

"My name is Homura and I have created you. Know that I am the honorable servant of your Lord. You shall see His will done, for there is only His will. You shall be instruments of creation for this world known as Galbar. The work that remains for us is indefinite, yet such is the nature of our Lord's realm." Homura proclaimed, as she cut her hand with Daybringer, the spear had become small, shorter than her forearm now. Red light poured from her wound as she continued. "Rise! Heed this call of mine! Become the humans of Galbar!" And three crimsons shards emerged from her palm and sank into three of the vessels near the goddess.

The three statues awoke, faces appearing upon their ashen heads as red hair hastily grew from their scalps. Light gathered around them and garbed them in dresses akin to what the goddess wore, and when their eyes opened, three creatures identical in appearance to Homura saw their creator and the world around them for the first time. Homura spoke swiftly and her voice seeped into the essence of their existence. "Your aspects are Courage, Kindness, and Fear. You have been blessed by my presence, and have been given the opportunity to fulfill a purpose. Come and aid me now. Carry your brothers and sisters to the three creatures that will carry them across Galbar!" She said and pointed towards the three colossi.

The awakened humans fumbled with the words within their minds, unable to articulate their thoughts yet, but the red goddess was not patient and had wandered towards a rise in the land. She peered back at them over her shoulder and smiled. "Allow me to guide you." She said as she slowly raised her hand, and a massive slab of earth ascended in sync with her motion. The slab was sturdy, and beneath it emerged large cylinders of stone to act as wheels. "I have gifted you that which will make your first task much more swift. Gather your kindred upon this slab and roll them towards the three titans." She explained to the three humans.

Homura watched as her creations became more and more aware, before they began the process of putting the still dormant humans on the giant slab. The three discovered that despite their small size, they possessed great strength, and the one with the aspect of Courage let loose a loud laugh as she jumped high and far to collect more and more. The one with the aspect of Kindness laughed as she found that moving the slab upon the stone logs proved to be almost effortless. Fear simply did as she was asked, and continued to silently place more vessels upon the slab.

Eventually, the slab had been loaded with almost a thousand still humans, and the three awakened pushed their burden across the bridge until they reached the back of the first colossus. They then returned, and repeated the process, over and over again, as the fields full of sleeping humans slowly began to empty. The three humans happily conversed while they worked, and Homura was glad. Another step towards enlightenment had been taken, and soon the seeds of humanity will spread across Galbar.

After working hard, Tuku Llantu awarded themselves a moment of leisure. For a long time they crossed the wildlands of the world, of all four continents, hunting as they saw fit, not only animals, but also taking note of everything that could be harvested, from fruits and herbs to the wood that formed the trees.

To work the leather and meat off the animals, to store all that they collected, the hunter quickly built a home for himself, a beautiful location made of a layer of stone and above it one of wooden planks, with thatched roofing and a wide rectangle shape. At its very centre the wooden flooring gave way to dirt, creating a safe zone between the fire-pit, the hearth of the home.

What started as a simple structure would quickly gain all sorts of cutler, from hunting trophies, to barrels to store and preserve the meats and vegetables, to a kitchen to work said ingredients into meals, to a room where they kept their gear, to a room where they crafted their gear.

Around the home not only a fence had been built, but also many monoliths marked with runes, there were not just a decoration however, as they served to make this location consecrated, focusing the god's powers and giving them stable control over the wildlands.

It was a peaceful time at the homestead, quiet and personal, just as Tuku Llantu enjoyed it.

And then a voice called to them.



The wooden mask could not show in its expression, but the god was more than surprised. This was prayer, it was a live being calling to them, right at their doorstep. And they knew who this being was, after all, they were their parent, it was one of the six rodents he made while in the palace, a rat. All of them were supposed to have a pair, but with the death of the male rat this female rat was the lone survivor of their species.

"You are lucky you arrived at a good time, if you were to see me without my mask, there would be great punishment." the god warned the rat.

The rat nodded. "I know. Yet, oh my noble deity, I am growing old, even with all the divinity imbued upon me, and it worries me that I will not only be the first of my kind, but also its last. My partner was taken from me before we could have children, the solitude was so great that I braved the path to this world, and crossed the wilderness, to see you, to plead you for help."

The deity felt a ping of guilty over this, as though they had not been involved with the death they had a certain responsibility as a creator.

"Your request is fair, and I would not want you to meet such a sorrowful end. I will give you a task then, and in return, you will be blessed and able to continue your species even without a partner, having countless offspring for the rest of your lifetime. The god whose birth took the life of your soulmate has created a great tree from which all magic in the world emanates and return to. It is my desire to gather a branch of that tree for my personal use, but if I were ever to approach, no matter how stealthy I can be, I would never be able to do such thing without bringing their attention. It is you, noble rat, who must do it. I will give you blessings and you will do as I requested."

The god then leaned forward, looking down upon the small rodent and patting her head, a surge of power filling her small body. "Be warned, this is a delicate matter between gods, you may only do as I asked, do not misuse this power for anything else, noble rodent." the deity added as they gave them also a small and colourful necklace, this was a powerful relic which would allow the rodent to make small burrows to go from one place to other over great distances.

"I swear on my pride, oh noble god." the rat answered, holding her tail, bushy and beautiful.

And with that, she left, entering a hole and travelling great distances at once. Burrow by burrow, making her way under the ocean, all the way to the south end of the world, where she would take to quickly climbing the tree of harmony. As she started to gnaw at the thinnest end of the continental tree, she felt its amazing, magical taste, experiencing as if the aurora itself was dancing on her mouth. The lights, the power, it was all too tempting for her little mind, and soon she found herself justifying her crimes.

"Why shouldn't I also have a branch for myself?" she said. "This Mana, it was brought into the world by the sacrifice of my husband, in parts, so why should I not be owned to a bit of it? I could gnaw at my own branch for ages, use it to illuminate my den, I could swing it at animals that try to hunt me and make them catch fire or worse! Indeed! I think very well that a creature as noble and beautiful as me does deserve a branch of her own."

And so, the rat wrapped her tail on not only one branch, but two, of the great tree of harmony, before quickly fleeing before the god of magic could ever notice her.

Back to Orsus, the rat started to feel a bit guilty, so she travelled to an island, and took for herself the smallest of the branches, hiding it in a hole before leaving with the largest one to deliver to the god. Upon going to the homestead and placing the staff at their feet, the god was immensely pleased.

"You did well my noble creature, this will do nicely for my purposes! However. Tell me, was this the only thing you took from that land?"

"Indeed it was my sovereign, as you commanded."

At this, a third voice interjected, it was the hawk, who landed in a nearby tree. "This rodent tells lie, oh noble god. I have seen it with the great eyes you blessed me with, she did not take only one, but two branches of the tree, wishing to keep one for her own purposes!"

Tuku Llantu looked up at the bird of prey and hummed. "And tell me, hawk, great hunter of the skies, did the rat also add to the injury and took the largest branch for herself?"

"No my sovereign, she showed some regret and still gave you the best and most beautiful of the branches."

"I see you are honest, noble hawk, may it be know to all hunters that you are forever to be their trusty companions." the hunter told. "And you Rat. You are lucky you showed some regret, for that I will still give you the blessing you requested. But you are no longer to be a creature of nobility, no one will ever look at you and ever think of your great efforts to live and care for your offspring, no, you shall be a creature seen as the lowest, living off the filth of others, that great bushy tail you have great pride will fall off and you and your offspring will have naked tails as a mark of shame, and so it shall be for the future, as long as the noble hawk flies the sky of the Galbar, you will never be noble again."

And so it was, that the hawk was made noble and the rat lowly. Their tails would not be bushy like that of the squirrel or other rodents, but pink, thin, and furless. The rat would swear a great revenge against the hawk, and that is why sometimes one can see rats going through great efforts to raid the nest of birds who would otherwise prey on the small rodents, perhaps in hopes one day they will be free from their curse.

---

It wasn’t too long after her resting period and meeting with The Monarch of All that Ruina found herself wandering The Celestial Palace and contemplating her next test. Through the gift that she had been given she took the time to observe the surface of Galbar and the creation that was taking place upon the blank canvas of a world. The many things being created at once all deserved their proper tests in time, but they all seemed so… Infantile for right now. To test them at this state would be akin to asking a child to lift a boulder. Doable, but not fair.

It was then that Ruina realized that perhaps she was focusing too much upon the surface of Galbar and paid too little heed to the creations that weren’t bound to the surface of the world. Perhaps she needed to look beyond… Closing her eyes to the vision that the artifact provided Ruina glanced upward and, with a few moments of consideration, found the target of her next test: The moon that now hovered around Galbar. With a flick of her tail, Ruina spoke with a divine voice that would reach the ears of all who wished to hear. ”Creator of the moon, your creation shall be tested! Witness now if your creation will crumple or withstand!”

And with that, Ruina stopped walking in the main plaza of The Celestial palace before pointing upward towards the moon. Red energy began to gather and flow around her, spiraling upwards and gathering into a sphere that began to form just above her hooked fingertip. Soon it would be ready for fly towards the moon and deliver a wrathful blow to the surface to see if the moon would survive or shatter.

A sound of clinking, scraping footsteps approaching from behind momentarily drew the corner of her eye. The gleaming black figure of Iqelis had descended from the loose clouds of haphazard debris still drifting overhead and alighted in a series of leaps, clawed feet leaving gouges in the courtyard’s paving. He drew near, his gaunt shadow sweeping over her before being cast back by the sanguine glow of the coalescing destructive energies, and raised one hand of many to point up at the lunar sphere.

”That cosmic bauble, sister, is the doing of our dear Yudaiel, whose gift is foresight,” he crackled, ”Already her ambition overreaches her bounds. With this toy, she yearns to place herself at the same height of exaltation as the Lord of All Things, perhaps to surpass him. Be sure to show her that the worth of her moon will not carry her that far. Do not hold back in your trial.”

The sound of an approaching onlooker did not, at first, draw much attention from Ruina. If they were there to observe, then let them observe and not be observed. The test did require keen focus, after all. But then the onlooker spoke, and those words brought a frown to her face. Someone who wished to stoke a personal conflict? That wouldn’t do. That wouldn’t do at all. Lowering her hand, the sphere of raw destructive energy remained unspent, and Ruina turned to affix her gaze upon the speaker.

Ruina’s eyes had taken on an intense glow, likely a byproduct of her holding onto such a magnitude of destructive energy condensed into a small sphere. At first the sphere hovered just beyond her grasp, but after a few moments Ruina reached forward to grasp it firmly. Was she worried about it being stolen, or merely diverting her focus away from keeping it where it was? It was difficult to say. Regardless, after a few moments Ruina would speak and address the onlooker. ”You presume that I hold back in my trials? I will inform you that I do not. Regard the holes in Ao-Yurin’s ocean if you disbelieve me. But I would question something of you, why so eager to see the moon tested? The spectacle of them I cannot and will not deny, but your comments make me think that you have a different motive. If you wish to start a conflict with Yudaiel then I would have no part in it. My duty is to test. Nothing more, nothing less.”

With that said, Ruina would affix her gaze firmly upon Iqelis to await their answer.

”I would not expect you to care about our discordances of vision,” the dark god’s dozen arms spread out in nonchalant dismissal, ”But this goes beyond any mere feud. There is an order to things. The more a masterwork is exalted by its maker, the harsher must judgement be to ensure its place in creation is deserved. Excellence must be earned. If that trinket is to stand beside the Monarch's own abode, its worthiness of such grandeur can only be proven by the sternest test of all, to exceed even what you have visited upon Galbar. Would you not agree, you who ought to know the ways of trial?"

As Iqelis began to speak and explain their reasoning for wanting her to do as she usually did Ruina remained silent. She kept a calm face and the orb of destructive power remained firmly grasped in her hand. But as Iqelis asked her if she agreed Ruina gained a distinct feeling of irritation. Iqelis was explaining things that Ruina already knew quite well, and perhaps Ruina needed to remind him that she was the master of the test, not he. ”Listen well to my words Iqelis. I am the master of these tests, and I do not intend to give such a space to anyone else willingly. You stand before me, injecting your own agenda and your own beliefs into my trials. This I will not be tolerating. I do not care if my tests will make you satisfied in some way by happenstance, but I do not and will never accept a mantel of pawnhood in the games of another. If you’ve an agenda you wish to pursue, pursue it alone or with another. I will have no part of it.”

As she spoke, Ruina’s face grew hard and her gaze became icy. Iqelis had tried to take command over Ruina’s role in the universe mere moments after she had decided it, and she was having no part of his agenda.

The One God drew himself up, and like a stretching shadow he seemed to grow longer and darker as he did. His faceted eye met her glare with a mocking gleam.

”Little fool,” he chuckled, the chilly sound of a saw biting into a glacier, ”Did you think you ever were anything but a pawn? Since before your miscreated halves began to devour one another, you have been a pebble at the whims of the river of fate. I took pity on you and would have guided you through currents more favourable, but if you want to remain planted in the muck of time until you become one with it, so be it. Do as you will, and mourn when inevitably your designs will turn to dust in your hands.”

With those words, he stepped back, letting his four arms rest at his sides, but his unreadable stare remained fixed on Ruina - or, rather, the ominous force coalesced in her grasp.

Ruina’s eyes narrowed slightly as Iqelis taunted her. She knew that she wasn’t at full power, and he likely was. But even if she was at full power picking a fight with another god in single combat wasn’t something she was keen on doing. Tapping into the artifact that The Monarch of All had given her, Ruina scanned across Galbar and found a large swath of untouched land right in the middle of the created continents. This would do well enough to hide for a bit while she prepared for the repercussions of what she was about to do.

There was no fighting Iqelis. Not here, not alone. But to merely run wouldn’t do. She needed to be gone promptly. Setting her plan into motion, Ruina crushed the sphere she was holding, regaining the vigor that she had pumped into it and promptly vanished from the palace grounds with little more than a blur denoting her departure.

An instant later Ruina touched down upon the barren ground of the exposed sea floor in the center of the continents. Step one of her plan was complete, but now was the critical second step. Raising two fingers to the space between her eyebrows, Ruina closed her eyes and harnessed her divine connection to the other divine beings, including The Monarch himself, with a critical message. ”Fellow divines, this is Ruina. I come bearing news which I find important. A god named Iqelis sought to attempt to dominate my plans, and likely intends to try and dominate more given time. I do not trust them, and I would advise caution in dealing with them. Yudaiel, your moon is spared from its test for now. I will not be a pawn in the games of another.”

Included with this message was a mental image of how Iqelis presented themselves, as well as the memory of how the conversation went so that all could be laid plain for everyone to see. Ruina was not going to willingly fall prey to the great games of another, no matter what they governed.

---

In the Palace's courtyard, a diamantine eye turned to amusedly glance at Galbar's distant surface. It briefly tried to follow where Ruina had landed through the rippling patterns visible only to itself, then abandoned the attempt midway and swung back to the yet unblemished moon.

"How wretched," Iqelis mused aloud, one hand moving up to trace an imaginary line along the pale silhouette overhead, "And to think that our would-be Master saw potential in this one, somehow. A poor servant, befitting her blind king!"

He strode to the spot left vacant by the departed goddess, arms splitting and multiplying as he moved, and when he came to a halt he raised a forest of clawed hands heavenward.

"The cravenness of another will not delay your doom."

The hands rose and spread like an obsidian flower, funneling the flow of time into a tight stream before leaving it free to burst out in a spreading tide. New scores of shadowy limbs continued to grow the intricacy of the figure, winding the root ever tighter while the mouth blossomed with ever greater force, and then there was a push -

Darkness seemed to sweep over the Palace's grounds for an instant, before rising like a noxious wave and rushing across the immensity of space to the moon, a small and helpless speck of white dimly glimpsed through the surge of gloom. The shadow crashed against it, immaterial yet terrible in might, for the entirety of the pale orb was now quivering and crumbling, its perfect shape coming apart into the primordial disorder into which it was fated to return. For a dreadful moment, it seemed that it was about to come undone. But then the darkness passed, and the moon was full and steady once again; yet, alas, never again beautiful.

Though the hand of doom had not torn her out of the sky, its touch had savagely scarred her face. Great cracks and ragged fissures raked across the once pristine visage, enveloping it in a hideous spiderweb that was all the more glaring against her brightness. Forevermore, the hours of the moon's greatest splendour would also be those of her greatest shame, for at her zenith every eye would behold the tracery of her looming demise etched into her skin as it was into the skein of destiny.

"Let all who see this mark remember the transience of all things, and be humbled as before a monument to mortality."

With nary another moment's delay, Iqelis leapt away, out of the courtyard and into the darkened Ring, and then he was lost among the stirring colours of the Galbar.

Having slept since shortly after their impact with the planet of Galbar, Aethel had been blind to the developments and progress of the planet around them as their counterparts and kin went to work. The booming proclamation of the Monarch of All caused a brief stir from their slumber, but rather then break from sleep they instead merely turned over on their branch and drifted back off again. In the end it was Ruina's mental warning that finally made the sleeping deity open their eyes... even if it was with a degree of grumbling as they slowly rolled off their side in order to rise back onto their hooves with a yawn.

Feeling newly invigorated, Aethel considered the possibility of improving upon the activity of sleep. They had just started to debate with themself how this could best be done with they suddenly stopped moving completely. Whatever good cheer that had been on their face had disappeared in an instant as they slowly turned their head towards a seemingly random direction before, with barely the slightest twinge of one of their legs, they blurred from one section of their tree to another.

A part in which two branches had been gnawed off.

Aethel glared at the defilement of their creation with an intensity that might have threatened to set something on fire if they cared to do so... but as they sniffed the air a softly muttered "I smell a rat." escaped their lips before their senses reached out across the planet, scouring it for... there.

In a blur, Aethel disappeared and left their tree behind completely.

.................................................................................

As Aethel reappeared, there was a sudden surprised squeak before one of their hooves pinned the squeaker down onto the ground; Not in a harmful way at the moment, but firmly enough to not only keep the subject pinned underhoof, but make it very clear that a fatal amount of pressure could be applied at Aethel's leisure. For their part, Aethel took a look around at the plant life around them before at last they turned their attention downwards towards The Rat that was currently pinned.

Leaning down so they didn't have to speak loudly, Aethel offered a predatory smile as they said "Hello there little one. My name is Aethel. I would say that it is a pleasure to meet you under any other circumstance, but right now I'm rather frustrated. After all, you broke into my home and stole what was mine. I admit, the only reason you're currently still alive is because I can only detect one of the branches you stole from me. So here is the deal I am willing to offer you, my dear little rat: You tell me where the other branch is hidden and I'll give you a shift end. If you tell me how you managed to reach my tree in the first place and how you've hidden the other branch from me, I'll let you live with no repercussion for your actions."

The Rat gazed into Aethel's eyes with a mixture of fear and hate, tempted to defy the Deity of Magic's requests at the cost of her own life out of spite. However, with her unborn children at risk of never being born, The Rat gulped as she closed her eyes and spoke the truth. "A-After you murdered my husband, I went to my creator Tuku Llantu for help. In exchange for letting me have children alone, Tuku Llantu asked me to steal one of the branches of your tree for him...w-which I did. He gave me a necklace that allowed me to get to your tree... and I took a second branch for myself because the only reason you were able to make that tree was by killing my husband!"

For a moment after that loud, angry squeak, The Rat believed that she was going to die. Despite the word of the deity not to harm her if she told the truth, she had her doubts about the murderer of her husband. So when the hoof was removed from her body, she tensed up for it to come back down again before daring to open her eyes when the stomp didn't come.

Aethel themself gazed down at the rodent in contemplation... before shrugging and saying "You know what? Fair enough. I put you in this situation and Tuku Llantu took advantage of it. In fact... as payment for taking your husband from you..." Aethel's eyes seemed to glow for a moment as he gazed at The Rat... before she herself glowed briefly. "...There. Because of the part your husband played in my bringing Mana to this world, you and your children will always have access to it to use as you see fit. Now if you'll excuse me..."

And with barely a blur, Aethel was gone. They needed to think about how to respond to Tuku's actions properly.

---

Location: The dam of Plotina, home of the Nolin Clan.

---

It had almost been a year since the Awakening Song, the moment the first bjorks opened their eyes there in the Glade of the Singing Maker to find their creator dancing and drinking with a mouth full of song and joy. After the Maker had fallen asleep, the bjorks had waited a long time for him to wake up again - however, they hadn’t stayed long before the forest’s inhabitants grew curious as to what these new creatures were. The bjorks had been lucky, for the Maker’s stupor had ended in a river, which showed them the way to safety. As bears, wolves, tigers and eagles filled the tree line with salivating mouths, the bjorks had all dived for the water and escaped. As eagles had tailed them from the skies, the bjorks had split up to divert the predators’ attention. One small group had headed towards the south, following the river for hours and using the cover of reeds and giant leaves to hide from the demons in the sky. Eventually, the river they swam in tributed into another river, and there, the eagles gave up. This was the Tupil, “the heavenly path”, and the group had followed it until they had reached a section of rocky rapids. Here, they dared not go further, so they gathered at the bank and hid in the shadows of the canopy. Here, they had counted the individuals among them and, by law of strength and size, Nolinya, as the seemingly oldest and largest female among them, declared that she would take them under her wing as the leader.

“This world will evidently not wait for us to adjust to it at our own pace; we have no choice but to play by its rules until we are strong enough to change them as we like!”

The other bjorks, cold and homeless as they were in this new, unknown land, had agreed without protest, and so Nolinya had founded Clan Nolin and declared herself its leader, its boyara. To establish the hierarchy properly, she had had her followers swear fealty to her and her leadership.

“Chip off a piece of both your front teeth.” She had taken stalks of water lilies and twined these into a fibrous thread. “I will string them on this necklace and keep them with me at all times. That way, I will know of your loyalty to me wherever I go, and I will protect you all with my strength and body.” Her eyes had then taken on an accusive shadow and she had spoken, “You will also remember what you gave up everytime you see it - and what more I can take from you should you rebel against me.”

The matriarch’s sudden shift in tone had come as a surprise to most, and for a moment, the jitter of feet and flicker of eyes had indicated that some were about to turn tail. However, a distant eagle scream and the howl of a wolf had shattered any notions of instability in the flock. If Nolinya could keep good on her promise to take them under her wing and protect them, then that was better than taking their chances in the wild, unknown woods… Right?

So then teeth had been chipped and the necklace made. A sharp stone had been passed around the congregation and everyone, old and young, big and small, had offered a chip to the necklace, which Nolinya had dubbed the Clan String. With it around her neck like a mane of yellow spikes, she had climbed upon a rock and pointed to the trees they had just hidden under.

“Now then, my people - we have no time to lose! We have enemies in the sky and rivals in the woods - the water is our only ally here!”

The crowd had looked at the trees - their instincts had told them what to do. Their matriarch had clarified it further so they would commence: “Gnaw them down - gnaw them all down! Toss them into the river and lay them against the rocks! Take branches, dirt, leaves and mud - build us a fortress in the river that nothing can break!”

And so the bjorks of Clan Nolin had set out to construct their home dam of Plotina, which had started as a few logs close to the banks by the rocky rapids. Against these, the bjorks tossed mud, dirt and branches into the water to build a strong foundation. It took days, and many were taken by predators both in the day and night. The simple spears they tried to defend themselves with were hopelessly ineffective against bear and eagle alike, and served better as poles to ground foundations or as fence posts in food storages. After the first week, however, the first den in the dam had been made, complete with entrances to the front and the back of the dam. Here, Nolinya and her closest would rest; the others could sleep at her entrance or in the holes and small caves they had dug on land for the time being.

It didn’t take long, though, before Clan Nolin had suffered too many losses to the forces of nature: A group of foragers had been attached by a territorial stag and two of them had gotten wounded; a lumberjack had lost her life after a falling tree crushed her and instantly killed her; two diggers had gotten into a fight with a furious wood grouse and one had been badly scratched up and unable to work for at least two weeks - if he could stave off the fever from the infections, that was.

The prospects did not look favourably upon Clan Nolin. Nolinya could already feel those same eyes who had looked upon her with desperate hope only a month earlier now glare at her with betrayal and mistrust. She had taken them under her wing, but they were not yet safe - far from it. Nolinya grit her teeth - they didn’t have the bjorkpower. They were simply too few. The boyara sat alone in her den, her head rumbling with thought. She never went to sleep without a wooden stake at an arm’s length away now; she could be dethroned any day.

“Matriarch,” came a greeting voice. Instinct made her reach out her right arm, but she stopped herself as her eyes set on the entrant, a male named Rusan in the process of shaking the water out of his fur. Nolinya squinted suspiciously, but pulled her hand back and took a reserved stance with not a too distant leaping distance to the other exit.

“Rusan. What business do you have?”

The male nodded his head and eyed the other exit. He didn’t comment on it, but smacked his lips and said, “The Wilds test us again, matriarch. A terrible tragedy has occurred: Ververa has been slain by a lynx.”

“A lynx?! What was she doing, the fool?!” snarled the matriarch and dragged a hand down the length of her face. The messenger remained stone-faced.

“She was picking herbs with Bilan and Piot. They made it out safely, thank the River, but Ververa…” He pressed his palm to his chest. Nolinya mimicked the gesture. “... She didn’t make it.”

Nolinya drew a slow breath of genuine sorrow. Rusan closed his eyes and lowered his head. “I offer my condolences, matriarch. Ververa was close to us all, but I know the two of you shared a bond.”

Nolinya pressed her lips together and shut her eyes hard for a brief second, dragging another slow inhale. Then her face turned its own species of stone. “A bond all women share, Rusan - nothing more. Thank you for bringing this to me. Have the gnawers fashion her a suitable log for her journey into the great beyond. Once Crone Olgyi has cleaned the body properly, have everyone gather atop the dam.”

“As you command, matriarch…” Rusan responded, but just as he was about to dive, he turned and said, “Oh, one more message.”

Nolinya looked up. “Yes?”

“An envoy from a neighbouring clan came to us this morning - one Fiodr of the Rod Clan. They have built a dam by rapids of the Dnip. He bid you welcome to his matriarch’s den for a meal and a drink.”

Nolinya squinted one eye and chewed on some air. “I will think about it. Delay an answer for now.”

“As you wish.” With that, Rusan dove back into the hole that led out into the river again. Nolinya sunk into a low seat, front paw tapping her lips in thought and her flat tail tapping at the ground.

“A meal and a drink…”

---

The dam of Voga on the Dnip was larger than Plotina, but not by much. Where Plotina had only three dens at this point, Voga looked to be sporting at least seven judging by the domed curves along the length of the dam. Nolinya squinted enviously from her place at the edge of the forest. Behind her, a small following waited nervously. Nolinya caught one of them shivering at the edge of her vision and cast him a steeling glare.

“... D-do you think they have c-carrots?” came a small squeak from the back. Nolinya hissed.

“Shut it! Rusan!”

Rusan approached and bowed. “What is your command, boyara?”

“Wait for me here. I will be going in alone. Dig in and keep watch of the woods and the skies.” With that, she crawled out of the woods and into the river, swimming towards the dam. Rusan’s face betrayed not its stony texture, and the Nolins did as they were told. Nolinya, meanwhile, approached the entrance hole under the great dam; she beheld it from below and awed for a moment at its magnitude - one day, Plotina would be just as big, if not bigger. She ducked down under water, swam through the tunnel of sticks and dirt and surfaced on the other side.

“Welcome, friend of Rod. We have been expecting you,” came a kind voice. The inside of the den wasn’t dark and gloomy like her own; no, this one had been lit with some strange, blue lights - Nolinya had never seen their likeness before. As her eyes adjusted to the very faint light, she soon began to make out faces within the room. There were three of them: two males and a female. The female was large and fat, much fatter than her, and laid upon a bed of dow and reeds in the centre of the den. The room oozed with the scents of fresh and fermented roots and waterplants, and a sweet aroma of tree sap laid thick in the air like a fume. Nolinya was almost mesmerised, and her stomach growled like a grown bear. The woman chuckled and beckoned her closer. “Oh, you poor thing - you must be famished! Come, come! The food will be served any moment.”

Nolinya wasn’t sure what made her obey, but she nonetheless moved forward and had a seat in a smaller nest of dow and grass opposite of her. There, bowls fashioned from wood by bjork teeth were laid before her, filled with salads of water plants, mashed roots with herbs and fermented tree sap. She felt her mouth deluge, inciting another chuckle from her hostess. “Please! Eat, eat! It’s not like it’s getting any warmer out. You’ll need the blubber for when the White Nights come.”

Nolinya looked up from her bowls with a skeptical look. “The White Nights?”

“Oh yes,” said her hostess. “An envoy from the Splid Clan to the north spoke of it: They say that the days grow colder, and that a white powder has begun to cover the hills and harden the water. It will no doubt reach us here soon, too.” She nodded. “So eat up, poor you! You’re as skinny as a stick!”

Nolinya hesitated. “I… I do not eat the food given by someone I don’t know.”

The woman burst into a hearty guffaw. “Ho-ho-ho! Oh, my, what a mannerless little rat I am! Oh, my, oh my…” She flicked away a tear. “Forgive me, my dear, I was just so heartbroken by your skinny frame that I completely forgot the most basic etiquette! You must forgive me.”

Nolinya tightened her fists in a defensive rage. “It-it’s fine… You need not talk to me that way. We, we are both matriarchs of equal rank, are we not?”

The hostess smirked from ear to ear. “Oh, but of course, and since we are, it is only fair that we address each other as equals, Nolinya.” She flicked her a wink. “You may call me Luga.”

Nolinya blinked. “... You must forgive me, but I was certain your name would be--”

“Rod? Or perhaps Rodya?” Luga’s smirk broadened. “You must forgive the confusion, but I couldn’t simply name my clan after someone like myself - how selfish would that be? No, I instead named it after our saving grace, the Rod.” She reached out for her own bowl of root mash and started guzzling it down. “You should eat some,” she stressed yet again.

Nolinya felt her belly fill with rage in place of food. “I am not hungry,” she snapped back. Luga’s smirk shrunk and the matriarch rolled her eyes.

“Oh, come now… Can’t you take a little play between friends of equal rank?” Upon studying her souring expression, Luga sighed. “But very well - if you’re not hungry after all, then perhaps I should feed some to the people you have hidden in the woods.”

Before Nolinya could react, she continued, “Oh yes, we’ve seen them. They look as thin as you, if not thinner.” She sighed with exaggeration. Nolinya lowered her stance, but her the steps of the other two males behind her. They closed in in anticipation of what she would do. Luga, however, continued, “Tell me, is food truly that hard to come by where you live? Why, we could feed another hundred poor souls, for sure.”

Nolinya hardened her face. A pang of guilt hammered at her heart - why had she taken charge back then, actually? She was no leader. Luga was a leader - how else had she been so much more successful than her? Why hadn’t she stepped down? Was she afraid of the consequences should the others choose to prosecute her for all the people she had gotten killed? All the burials she had caused?

“Why have you brought me here?” she sobbed weakly. Luga raised a brow.

“Oh, darling, what are you crying for? Why else should I have brought you other than to share with your people our gorgeous bounty - to spread this prosperity to bjorks all throughout the land?” Luga rolled forward so she sat upright, tail between her legs. She reached out a paw and gently lifted Nolinya’s chin. The smaller female flexed every muscle in her face, but the tears escaped anyway. Luga tooted a sympathetic “n’aaw…”

“It-... It’s been so… So hard,” Nolinya sobbed. Luga nodded with understanding.

“Oh yes, my dear… But you are safe now… You are all safe.”

With that, the Nolin Clan abandoned the dam at Plotina and were accepted into the Rod Clan, attracted more by the promise of food and shelter than their master’s orders. Nolinya was still boyara, but even she had to admit that there was no equality in rank between her and her new chieftess: Luga took the title of bolshaya, grand matriarch, and united the two clans as a tribe named the Voganids. Work soon continued, though it was the great dam Voga they were expanding.

---

The Shepard tended to his great flock of many animals, setting them right within their respective homelands. The mighty mammoths meandered to the great plains, steppes and grasslands. With them went many a creature, so suited for the open lands that they were. In the great forests he sent he guided the squirrels, owls, mink, woodpecker and more so that they might thrive in those places. Out on the beaches and ice flows, in the lakes and streams, he sent those more inclined for watery lives to live within and around. Great bears of snowy white went far north, chasing plump seals and other prey. Salmons, trouts, and other fishes of great size populated the waterways, giving food to great brown bears and fishers. To the canyons he sent rams, sheep and those who could survive the harshest of environments at the top of the lands.

This took the God uncountable days, for he was immersed within his work and dare not stray for long else catastrophe occurs. When the land had at last settled into a rhythmic harmony and cycle of life, did Chailiss finally give pause. And it was then that he flew up high, to the point that his land was but an island did he take in the works of his peers. He had noticed the moon straight away, so large and beautiful did it look upon them all. He could not help but think that it resembled him, but his thoughts wandered to the ice ring that surrounded the planet. It had now grown dark and dull, no longer the same spectacle that it had once been. This saddened the god but only ever so slightly.

He moved his attention away from the heavens after spotting little else of interest. It was then he spotted the continents below, vast and wondrous no doubt. Not long after, their Lord Creator spoke for all to hear, naming Voligan a title for his efforts. There came no mention of his own work, which was unfortunate. Perhaps the creator had perceived all the land created as Voligans achievement alone, despite all his help? Perhaps He did not know all, as it seemed he had, or had he not cared enough for any mention? Regardless, he pushed such thoughts down, for they would only bring trouble if acted upon. He hummed a sad tune and negan to descend from his mighty perch.

Yet the message of Ruina sank into his mind like a sharp and painful note. He saw memories that were not his own layed out before him as if he had been there in her place. This… Iqelis, he spoke with such arrogance that Chailiss felt revolted by the mere sight and sound of him. And it seemed he had a rivalry with Yudaiel, to what end the god of cold could only guess. The complete destruction of one or the other? Regardless, Chailiss would heed this warning, even if it came from Ruin herself. Two gods to watch out for… Two gods seemed such few a number and from the sound of it, it was one god alone in both cases. Perhaps an alliance could be made against them… Perhaps…

His attention fell upon the second jewel of the heavens. Silence took him as he watched overhead; it became disfigured with great cracks and lines cutting deep. Akin to a great hand slowly raking the surface like a bed of coals. The moon's beauty was forever marred before his sight and it made him angry. Such unnecessary, spiteful destruction! He could not- he would not allow it to happen to his own land. Else he be marred himself.

Chailiss descended in a flurry and arrived where Zenia’s obelisk sat. Feeling power swell within him he whipped up a blizzard of terrible speed and from within he beckoned forth something new to his lands. They came alive upon the winds, slender creatures attuning to his deep hum. More of air and chill, they did not take solid shape for they flowed in unnatural ways and were all but ethereal in their native form. Thousands upon thousands came to being, fluttering in the great blizzard of their birth, adding their own hums to their creator. They were the Nisshiniek, spirits of his realm. Watchers and protectors of the land ever more. As the blizzard died, he beckoned them to depart. For though they were animals and their intelligence lacking, they were capable of understanding his voice and from it, his needs.

More remarkable, was that they could inhabit the very essence of the land itself as long as it was cold. By bridging the gap between inanimate and animate, they could inhabit objects and use them as shells. Even now he watched as one flew into a boulder and bid the stone to rise. Another became the ice of the glaciers, and another swam as the water, or a small piece of it. One tried to possess a flying eagle, but was rejected, as it should be.

Another… Chailiss hummed as one Nisshi attempted to inhabit him. It tried in vain for a time but ended up circling him instead.

The god chuckled softly and as he watched it fly away, he gave it a greater awareness that would awaken in time. Though the Nisshiniek were potent, he knew every land needed a champion.

---

Chailiss wandered his lands, taking in the sights as he became intimately close to what he and Zenia created. He hoped the younger Goddess was well. Eventually a new smell, one unfamiliar with him, came upon his senses. It was there that his journey turned to the east and he flew upon a land he did not remember creating. Waterways, rivers, lakes, foliage small and wide, dotted with animals that fit it came into view. Had Zenia created such a thing and he had missed it?

Surely not?

It wasn’t until the Winter Lord heard others speaking that he knew this had not been the work of either God. He came upon a lake with strange mounds in the waterways, followed by loud slaps on the water and strange cries. He found them then, for he had unwittingly brought a terrible cold that began to freeze the waters and chill the bones of the fledgling furred people. Chailiss was perplexed by this development, engrossed in understanding what he was looking at. Had he not created similar creatures, but much much larger? Why did they point and grab their heads? Why did they look so cold?
Then it dawned upon him and the God of Cold realized his mistake. In a blink his form dissipated upon a strong breeze and from the very center of where he had been, descended a creature that looked like them, but of white fur and steely blue eyes. Chailiss bid the coldest parts of himself away in favor of not startling the people further. His new feet settled upon earth and he took the sensation of his toes sinking amidst the mud as a pleasant surprise. He flexed his hands, looking upon his new digits with awe. He looked upon his tail and slapped it on the ground as he had seen. It gave a thud, rather than a slap. It must only work in the water, to announce trouble.

As he looked upon his new body with fascination, a few with brave hearts approached him warily. One was larger than the other, though they really looked the same. The smaller one played with their hands, as the bigger of the two spoke up in a frightened voice.

“We don’t want any trouble here friend, state your business.” The smaller one nodded in agreement. They both shook with fear all the same.

”There is nothing to fear.” Chailiss spoke with a voice of untold winters, ”I mean you no harm upon this day, not anymore then what I have already caused.”

The two gave each other odd looks. The smaller one then burst out, “We saw you descend as the moon blew away. What are you?”

”I am the deepest frost, the coolest day. Caretaker, Shepard of all you see. I beckon the winter to arrive, for it to go. I am it’s lord, and this land is my realm. You will know me as Chailiss, God of Cold.” He ended, his divine voice leaking through as he spoke to anoint himself. The two mortals before him, quivered with fear before falling to their knees. Whether out of fear or reverence, he would find out shortly.

”Do not be frightened. Rise, no harm will come to you or anyone here. I am curious about your kind. You did not come from me, then who? And what do you call yourselves?” He asked in a softer voice, now much the same as it had been when he first spoke in that body.

Slowly the two rose, glancing at each other. “I am Unos and this is Jeran, we are of clan Jera, of the proud lake home Urata. We come from the Glade of the Singing Maker. It is a great trek away from here now, for our people have traveled far in his streams and rivers to reach this land.” Unos, the smaller of the two had said, standing taller with confidence as he spoke. Chailiss had listened intently, more questions forming.

“We should take this Lord to your mother, Unos.” Jeran said, “The matriarch and the clan will want to meet him.”

Unos clacked his teeth. “Yeah, I suppose that’s a good idea. Come on then, O Lord of Winter.” Jeran elbowed Unos and the lad winced. “I mean… We would be delighted and honored if you would join us.” He dipped his head.

Chailiss gave a half smile, ”The honor is mine.” He said and together they made their way into the waters.

And so it was, Chailiss would stay with the Bjork, learning of them and their ways for a time. Much would be shared, questions would find answers and Chailiss would pass on wisdom and aid whenever he could. He would, in time, earn a new moniker from the beaver folk. They would call him, Old Bjork.

Phelenia

Phelenia was soaring!

Some time ago, she didn’t know and didn’t care how long, she had been slinging herself through the darkened jungle of her kin had made. She was filled with joy to see how her gift had been molded and used to beautify the world. In due time, she planned, she would return to the palace to see how the orb would look from afar. For now, she just relished the wilderness. Eventually, though, she decided to take her rest near a fresh brook. Then she felt it. That unfamiliar presence. Never in her life had she actually been watched, or so she thought. But now, she felt the peering gaze of eyes upon her. She got up and looked around. Was it one of her kin approaching her?

No, it wasn’t. It was a creature of darkness with a pitch-black coat. Seemingly glowing eyes peered from the shadows in which it thought it was invisible. But Phelenia was a goddess attuned to nature. She could see all. So she saw it stalking her from afar. There was no fear though. Only happiness. “Come here!” She said with her arms wide open. This too would be one of her children.

The creature, confused, charged. It jumped and ran across the uneven ground and when it was close enough it leaped. And then it felt that power. A power that forced it to change. Suddenly it was filled with fear. Parts of its back and legs died the moment it got too close to Phelenia. Mushrooms sprouted from the necrotic flesh. Its balance fell away completely as it yelped in fear and fell down. More of its body died and was replaced with mushrooms, which died then as well. Only to be replaced with grasses and then flowers. With big eyes, the panther looked on as its body died underneath it until the randomly lashing force of Phelenia infected its mind as well.

And so the goddess of nature, queen of life, stood with her arms open before a pile of grass and flowers and mushrooms. Horrified now, by her own power.

Ever since she has begun to adopt other shapes. Natural shapes that suppressed her power. She didn’t mind. She had run across plains and forests as part of a deer herd. In the skies she had flown as part of a murmuration as natural instinct had taken over. In the thick jungles she had run as scaled beasts. Hunting prey to survive. Not that she actually needed to eat, but that prey drive was too strong. That single-minded purpose had taken her over completely.

And now she had found a new world. Where everything was giant. She herself had taken the shape of a giant eagle. Their eyes could see so much! But even in her animal form, she was different. Her feathers were large and tipped with green. It – through divine power – reminded the animals around her that she was not just a mere eagle. Below was a beautiful and rich land of swamps and lakes. A world of water. Filled with strange, scaled and finned creatures. It gave her an idea. The oceans so far were beautiful but not moving. The kelp forests just danced with the waves the moon now made. Maybe she should add to the water that which others had added to the land and the skies?

But her mind was ripped away from such divine thoughts by a baser instinct. She sensed something. Something below. She flew lower. There was a small river flowing through the forest. Except there was something wrong. Some of her children, the trees, were gone. Leaving only stumps in the ground. She came down lower and landed upon the tree.

“Who did this?” Phelenia hissed as she watched the stump. This was not claimed by a ferocious wind or a titanic creature. The stump almost looked… eaten. And there was this smell. This thick, oily smell in the air. As an eagle she looked up and around. What was the source of that-

There it was. Off in the distance. An edifice of horror. A larger dam, far larger than any regular beaver dam should ever be. Housed by large, flat-tailed rodents. Some with sharpened sticks strapped on their backs.

With a deafening shriek she summoned the predators of this land to her. None could ignore her call. Eagles flew over. Wolves howled. The roar of bears could be heard echoing in the vale. “Explain!” She demanded. And the animals that came, did so. They told her of something strange that fell from the world and that behaved with seemingly no sense of self-preservation. It spilled a strange juice around and also made the flat-tails. At first the predators thought they were the same as any other rodents. Instead, the flat-tails began to gather sticks and mud. Instead of searching caves or a tree to hide under, they made their own places of safety.

This alone was a grave offense. Phelenia listened and seethed as the predators told their story. How they hunted some of them but most began to fight back when hunted with sharp branches. Regally, like the queen she knew she was, Phelenia perched atop the tree stump and kept listening. When the tales were done and the predators left, she stood alone on the stump for a while. Leering at the dam.

No, she would have to teach them a lesson.

The Bjorks of the Rod Clan were the first to hear it. It came from the green eagle flying overhead, which had made the guards pretty restless already. The call was nothing natural. It was low, rumbling, and loud. Overpoweringly loud. When it stopped, there was a tension. What had just happened? Something rustled in the bushes. Things took flight from the trees.

The guards took their spears in both hands. Something was coming. More birds took flight from the faraway forests. Their flight formed a pattern. Something was coming. Females and children were ushered inside. Something was coming! The strongest were told to arm themselves. To safety! To safety!

It was too late.

Bjork foragers and woodcutters came yelling out of the forest’s edge. Screaming about predators. Before a giant bear burst through the under bush and ripped the back open of one of them. Three more great bears came tearing through the forest and into the open field near the dam. Bjorks ran and cried. Above the hunting shriek of eagles echoed through the valley. Chaos erupted as Bjork ran over Bjork. They dove into the river. Hoping it would be safe inside their home. Brave and valiant guards held their spears up. Willing to fight. Some ran, realizing there would be no fight. Bear claws ripped through hides and branches. Some of the spears found purchased. But only a drop of blood at most could be won from the thick hides that were preparing for the cold winter. One bear roared up in the sky. Seemingly answering the call. The small Bjorks were flung around through the air or savaged in the maw of a giant bear.

Some started to run and swim towards the other bank, where the woods were still close. But from above shadows came down. Giant eagles shrieked as they unfolded their wings and grabbed Bjork after running Bjork. From high above they released them again. More Bjorks ran or dove. Only to see the bodies of their kin fall around them. The horrid sound of breaking bones was everywhere. Red streaks ran through the river.

Phelenia looked on from above. It was not enough. She herself dove down and called out to the beasts again. Filling them with an unnatural need to destroy. One bear roared and charged for the dam. The construction of wood, mud, and clay was strong. But so was the bear. With its paws it ripped open. In places, the dam started to flood over as bears began to tear holes into the construction.

The green eagle landed into one of the ripped open dens. A strange miasma hung here. A mixture of tree sap and roots. Not to be eaten, but kept in safety. Not somewhere in nature. No, it was kept in vile, Bjork-made branch-and-clay caves. Two of the beaver-people laid dead already. Male and female. One child, a small one, lay screaming near them.

Phelenia, with her eagle eye, looked at it. “Sins of the father.” She said in Bjork tongue. “Sins of the mother. Sins of all the other.” And with that she slashed the child with her claw.

When the bears left and the eagles had their fill of Bjork meat, serenity returned to the dam of Voga. Half-eaten bodies laid around. Blood still streaked the river. The Bjorks started to creep out of their hiding places to look upon the ruin. But they quickly huddled together and away from sight again as a singular giant eagle with green-tipped wings came down again.

Phelenia landed upon the broken dam of Voga and stretched out her wings. “Hear me sinner-beasts! Renounce your vile ways. Return to your lives of nature. Lay down the sharpened branch and the spoiled saps. This has been a warning to you all.” And with that she took off again. She flew south, far away south. Beyond the horizon. There were other matters to attend.

---

Bishadnik had been a happy manbjork. And he liked to think that he had been a good manbjork too. He had wandered the riverlands in awe and had oft glorified now the Singing Maker and now Old Bjork. His life, for all the terrible predators that stalked the air and woods and waters, was a great harmony of wonder. When he hungered, he ate. When he wished after company, his clanbjorks offered joy. When work called, he answered it with gusto - none worked like Bishadnik, none sang like him, none beat their tails, none ground their teeth against the sighing bark like Bishadnik. All who beheld him knew that he was no mere workman but an artisan, a sculptor, a worshipper. When Bishadnik stood he towered above all other bjorks, when he moved through a group they parted for him and beheld his majestic form as though he were a son of the Singing Maker. And when Bishadnik wooed a lassiebjork he bent low and brought his tail between his feet, and his smiles were such as to send even the iciest of maids into a fit of embarrassed giggles. He was a happy bjork, was Bishadnik, a bjork to halt the rivers with, a bjork to down the forests, a bjork to laugh into the eyes of death beside. He was a good bjork.

But when he stood, tall, bloodied, and alone amongst the ruins of his clan, Bishadnik was not a happy bjork or even a good bjork. No, he was not even Bishadnik. On that day he was Mish-Cheechel. And Mish-Cheechel was an angry bjork. As the remnants of his people stumbled in a daze around him, Mish-Cheechel was a weeping bjork. And when his gaze fell upon one of them, it smote like thunder and struck like lightning. And when he raised his tail, it was like the trembling of a mountain. On that day, when he gnashed his teeth it was not to the sighs and giggles of wood, but to the furies of the whistling winds; he gnashed tooth against tooth and flared his snout. They did not approach him, but went trembling around him and did not meet his gaze. They knew what he was going to do, and they wanted no part of it. They scampered away in fear when he bent and took up the remnants of a wooden spear and raised it to the heavens.

"Hear me!" His voice lashed against the roiling skies like thunder. "Hear me: you Singing Maker, you Old Bjork, you Green Murder; hear me you thousand gods whose names are muttered only in the halls of forgetfulness: today I am Mish-Cheechel, and I shall never cease until vengeance is mine. So let it be heard, so let it be known, so let it be until water eats the world and nothingness consumes all! I will sink my teeth into you yet; Mish-Cheechel will be your great horror, Green Murder, your great regret, and the last thing you ever know!" Then Mish-Cheechel, whose shoulder was the mountain, whose tail was the river, whose tooth was the unyielding stone, whose eye was lightning and whose voice was thunder, Mish-Cheechel the Avenger, walked from the ruins of his people and ventured out to kill the eagle god.

• Summary [+]

  Mish-Cheechel, a survivor of Phelenia's attack on the Rod bjorks, pledges vengeance against the goddess. He makes a pledge by all the gods (he's addressing them, so I guess they hear it) that he will not rest until Phelenia has paid for her crimes with DEATH. Fear the fury of a good bjork's anger!

---

A lone Nisshiniek winded its way through the tall trees of the forest, bringing a cool breeze as it went. There were many smells here, from the sweet scent of the sap, to the earthy smell of the ground below and, of course, the water that trickled over rock and stone. It was a place that was different from what it had seen before. There were no great hills to glide over, or deep ravines to wander through, or open plains to race the four legged ones. No, this was a place full of many new currents and sights, and the water of life permeated everything.

It was an ever curious spirit, chasing after anything that caught its attention. And as one could imagine, In that cool place of many waters, the most curious of all was the smaller creatures that lived within. Every snap of a twig, every birdsong, every new smell- all elicited an impulsive response of investigation. It did not know why, for it had no such thoughts on that particular matter, really on any matter, save those that drove instinct and the most important one of all.

Protect.

However, curiosity was a dangerous foil. Not that it would know, or at least until it learned that not everything was as it seemed to be. It had run into a sharp, stinging thing with many stingers once. Luckily it’s rocky form at the time had prevented any harm {not that it would have been harmed in its natural form anyways). Thus, it still had not learned the important lesson of self preservation. Perhaps it was not even within its capacity to learn such a thing, as the Nisshiniek were fickle things. Forged by the god of the north as guardians and servants of the realm. A noble purpose, lost on them with their limited intelligence. It isn’t that they didn’t know what their purpose was, it was ingrained into their very essences. It was just that the scope of such responsibility was hardly fathomable.

What were they to protect against? Were they to keep the cycle from performing? Predators hunted prey, prey died to feed predators. Predators died to feed the grass that the prey fed upon. Over and over, who would they protect? The predator or the prey? What about the land? Surely they were not to protect it from itself? When it rained, it rained. When it snowed, it snowed. When it was growing, things grew. When it burned… They let it burn. For even the Nisshiniek knew that fire and warmth were dangerous. Ah but was curiosity as dangerous as fire? Wasn’t it ironic that the drive to protect meant they were curious but also lacking in self but only when it didn’t come from the all consuming blaze of a fire? Well, the Nisshiniek did have little else to fear…

Oh, what was that?

The Nisshiniek that flew amidst foriegn branches had spotted something next to the water's edge. A smaller counterpart of a creature it had seen before in the west. A funny tail, two large buck teeth, covered in the brownest of fur. It got closer, right behind the thing as it smacked the water with its hands. Two others swam and splashed each other with the water. When they saw the Nisshiniek, (for they could be spotted in fact), the small furred things cried out in alarm, slapping their tails in the water and diving down. That left the one on the bank all alone, the poor thing. Slowly the small thing turned around and when it saw the Nisshi hovering behind in it’s massive scope and frame, (looking nothing more than a large cloud of wispy smoke) the creature screamed and fell backwards into the water.

The Nisshiniek followed after, taking the shape of the water. It became the water then and easily scooped up the swimming creature. It wrapped itself around it, watching it kick its legs and tail in vain to get away, before it deposited it back onto the river’s edge. It sputtered and coughed as it lay there. The Nisshi lifted a tendril of water, almost like it’s head, out of the water to view it up close.

Why had it done that? Why save the creature, surely it could swim?

The furred thing stood up and looked at the Nisshi with large, inquisitive eyes. It tilted it’s head, and the Nisshi mimicked the movement back. This produced a strange sound from the creature, a high pitched squeal, followed by a frantic display of awe.

It heard sounds it did not understand and the little furried thing waved into the water. The Nisshi followed the small one’s gaze and saw the other two from before. It went back into the water fully and grabbed them too, before depositing them on the river bed alongside the other. The first one fell over, holding its stomach as it cackled. The other two groaned and the Nisshi slinked back into the water, watching and waiting for what would happen next. They seemed to huddle and then they peered over into the water’s edge, as if looking for something. It was then that the largest of the trio, pushed the smallest in! Like before, the Nisshi grabbed it and placed it back on the bank, but unlike before, it splashed at the larger one. Mimicking what it had seen earlier.

The trio of furried things let out mighty glees and jumped into the water one by one. This alarmed the Nisshi, who did the same thing it had been doing. Over and over did the small furried ones come into the water, and again and again did the Nisshi pluck them out. It never seemed to be bothered by this after the first few times, but then it began putting them farther and farther away from the waters edge, only for them to run back. They whooped and hollered as they went and the hours grew dark, before long (and after many failed ways of keeping them from their sure demise in the water) the Nisshi saw a large one call to the small ones and it at last recognized them for what they were- offspring.

It watched them go at last and as night came upon the land, the Nisshi sank low into the water. It was confused as to what had happened between it and the trio. Then, a bright fish swam by and the Nisshi chased after it.

---

Night turned to day and the Nisshiniek in the water still yet remained. It had slept for a time, letting the cool waves lull it to sleep but now a new day was upon them and it was time to wander some more. It did not need to eat food, for its body did not work like all the others it had seen. No, Nisshi subsisted off of the cold, thriving in it as they were want to do. Soon enough it would be time to migrate to the far north, where colder temperatures prevailed and the time of the mating season would begin. It did not want to go there… It… It...

A splash jostled its thoughts and it spied a rock sinking into the water, then another and another. The Nisshi soared to the surface with explosive power, splashing the land in droplets as it spotted the trio once more. They had returned to the water, making more strange noises as they pointed and… Laughed. Yes, laugh, that was what they were doing! But… How did it-

It spotted more small ones, more offspring. The trio had brought friends and these ones, well, some ran away screaming and others did not move out of fear or surprise, it did not know. What it did know was that they were already going back into the water. It had begun again and this time it would protect.

This went on for many days, the… Game, as it came to understand, was that the small ones became happy when they were picked up and tossed around. It was odd, it also came to understand. It did not know why. Thoughts were becoming…

The small ones never tired of the game but it did reach a point of new excitement when it grew tired of the water and fled into some rocks. There was much excitement and hollering after that, and it was used as a climbing area, and a jumping pad. It had to shed some rocks when it realized just how terribly fragile such little things could be and was much smaller then it could have been. But for the most part it was… pleasant. An odd feeling. There were many odd feelings and more thoughts… but…

One day, the small ones did not come. It felt sad at this as the day wore on and it sat motionless by the water’s edge. But a bird landed upon one of its rocks and its attention fell upon that. But wasn’t there something… Else… Yes… Its small ones! The rock shook and the bird flew away. They should have been there by now, that was the pattern it had come to realize. It fled from the boulders and traveled in the direction it had always seen them come from.

It was not long after that it came upon a curious sight. Wood and bark strewn about, chipped and clawed to splinters. The water here rushed and flowed, broken with many logs and sticks and muds and grasses. It grew closer, deeper into the strange land. There was a foul stench here, of something it knew only to be as death or the dying. Predators needed to eat… Both prey and predator died… Trees wilted… But this was different. It knew that, how did it know that?

Then it came upon the strangest sight yet. There had been a large pond here, but it was emptier now and there were many sticks bundled together in strange shapes on the water and it could see many of the large ones walking about moaning and crying, it thought. And and and, it came upon something it did not understand right away. There was a small one, but it did not move. It pushed the offspring but without a form it was powerless to interact. It eye’s fixated upon the wound, a large gash… A large… killing… Dead.

The offspring was dead. It was dead. Why was it dead? It knew things died but why was this one dead? It was supposed to be playing, it was supposed to be laughing and running and smiling and and… the offspring was dead!

Something snapped inside it, a foggy feeling dissipating like frost on the wind. It was… She was.

And the first thing she ever did… was weep.

_{Red Bangles Productions present...}

---

Mish-Cheechel stalked through the woodlands, his slow breath whistling gently through his teeth. The sound of running water was not far, and he paused to grate his incisors against a tree half as old as time. It did not sigh under his chiselling as the trees of the days of yore sighed, the bark did not embrace his searching incisors - no, it screamed under each cut, it whimpered beneath his biting wrath. This was not the careful, loving chiselling away the trees had known before, it was not art or worship, this was the gnawing of war - great bites that left weeping wounds and trenches in every tree he passed. It was the warpath of Mish-Cheechel the Avenger.

The trees gave way to the river, and he placed the broken spear to the side as he bent down and took the running water into his paws, bringing it to his mouth where he lapped at it. Only then did he notice the sound of carving, which caused him to grab his spear and leap away, teeth bared and eyes glowering. When his eyes fell on a fellow bjork, however, he relaxed. “Hail, stranger. I didn’t smell you there.” His eyes were drawn to the wood that was slowly taking shape beneath the careful chiselling of the stranger’s teeth.

The stranger paused his work, though his eyes did not move from carefully examining it. He replied, “I did not intend to draw attention to myself.” His words caused Mish-Cheechel to frown and scratch at his chin.

“These are days when a manbjork would do well to go unseen and unheard - the Green Murder’s foul fiends could be lying anywhere in wait.” He took a careful step closer and sniffed at the air, and puzzlement lit up his eyes. “But… you smell of nothing at all. I’ve never known a bjork who smelled of nothing at all.” He leaned back on his tail and gripped his spear tighter. “What’s your name, friend - if friend you be - and from what tribe and clan do you hail?”

The strange bjork replied, “Do I truly smell of nothing? Certainly that can not be.” Mish-Cheechel’s tail jittered against the ground in annoyance.

“My nose doesn’t lie, friend, you smell of no-” the angry bjork paused and instinctively stepped back, his eyes widening as his nostrils flared. “That can’t be…” he muttered with a frown, his head flitting frantically here and there to take in the overwhelming smell all around. It was unlike anything he had ever sensed. Both the smell and the sheer strength were new to him, and though the power was somewhat intimidating he could not deny that the smell was in many ways pleasant. It lacked that essential wetness borne by all the bjorks he had known. It was dry and warm, fresh and recently cut - almost, but not quite, like a newly felled tree. “But manbjork,” Mish-Cheechel exclaimed, “you smell almost beautiful!” He rested on his tail and, once the awe had passed, fixed the other manbjork with a suspicious glare. “Who are you?”

“I am a carver working beside the river.” he said, his eyes still glaring down at his work. He vaguely gestured to the carving in his hand, “This belongs to a pair. You may examine the other if it pleases you.” he said, gesturing with his tail to an inconspicuous stick laying nearby. But his words did not seem to subdue Mish-Cheechel’s suspicion. He glanced at the odd wooden carving, fashioned into a shape resembling a small, debarked tree trunk that had all sorts of little shapes etched into it. Mish-Cheechel did not approach it, however.

“Alright, ‘Carver’, have it your way,” he muttered, “but you’ll forgive me if I don’t examine... whatever that thing is... further - it looks very interesting and very odd, but I’m not one to dally long with mysterious strangers with weird smells and weird carvings.” He looked out towards the river, and then his gaze drifted skyward. “And I’ve got things to be getting on with anyhow, so I bid you good day - and I’ll say this as a parting gift: I’d not dally about here too long if I were you. Skies aren’t safe, and never more so than now.” He raised his paw in farewell, and slowly shuffled back from the stranger, keeping his eyes on him as he did.

The stranger finally turned his gaze to meet the young bjork’s sight. His eyes were a deep golden brown that almost seemed to emit an ethereal glow, and looking into them caused Mish-Cheechel to subconsciously halt. He spoke, “Perhaps you could spare a few more moments of your time. Could you elaborate on this Green Murder of whom you speak?”

Blinking away his momentary reverie, Mish-Cheechel frowned at the other bjork and was silent. “You’re strange, Carver, very strange.” There was a hint of fear in his voice, but there was a steely determination - an anger - in his eyes. “You sit out here, unafraid. You smell like no bjork. You have sunlight in your eyes. Very strange. Very strange.” He gulped. “You remind me…” his nostrils flared suddenly and without warning he leapt forth towards the stranger, his tail lifting him from the ground with force so that he was upon the other bjork in seconds, his spear snaking towards his head, “of that eagle god!” But before the tip was half a whisker from the Carver, the vengeful Mish-Cheechel felt the air whoosh all at once from his lungs and power leave him. He fell like a wet leaf before his adversary.

The stranger sat, stationary and unworried. “I am unfamiliar with a god of eagles. As I asked before, mayhaps you could enlighten me.” Mish-Cheechel rolled groaning on the ground, gnashing his teeth against each other.

“Bastard.” He managed, but half a breath later he seemed fully recovered and, leaping to his feet, scrambled for the water. He turned back to the stranger and eyed him, as though expecting another strike. When none came, he shifted. “You’re not with it then? The god of the death-bears? Of the blood-eagles? Of the dread-wolves? The god that slaughters without reason - kits and lassiebjorks and the old?” His voice rose as he spoke and his anger took a hold of him, “you’re not with it! You don’t know!? A pox on you!” His outburst was followed by a grunt as he hurled his spear at the strange manbjork. The weapon flew forward and struck true, however the stranger remained unharmed while the spear fell to the ground, broken.

“If your adversary is truly a god, then such strikes will be just as ineffective. No matter how much anger you feel, no matter how righteous your cause, you will fail.” was the stranger’s only reply to the act of violence attempted upon him. Mish-Cheechel’s nostrils flared and he clenched his fist in frustration.

“By my life; by the rivers; by the trees; by the great earth and by the rolling skies; the eagle god will pay for its crime. If the spear fails, I will knaw at it with my bare teeth - and even if I perish, it will die. It will die, Carver, it will!” His tail slapped against the water, and his shoulders trembled under the weight of rage.

The stranger stood up, walking over to the second stick and picking it with his other paw. “I can not assist you in your final endeavor, but that does not mean I can offer no assistance at all. If you would have it, follow me.” he said, wandering into the woods. Mish-Cheechel stared after him for a few short seconds, then stalked out of the water and trailed the odd bjork.

After walking in silence for some time, the wary Mish-Cheechel spoke up. “You’re a god aren’t you? Are you Old Bjork? The Singing Maker? Another?” He paused, “and why would you assist me in this?”

“I can not recall ever having sung. Perhaps one day I shall.” he said, giving a thought before he continued, “I am offering this opportunity to you, however the assistance is intended for all bjorks. I trust that it will reach them.”

Mish-Cheechel scratched his nose and closed one eye as he followed. “If it’ll help me dig my teeth into the eagle god, I’ll take it and I’ll use it. I can’t promise more than that.” He glanced at the surrounding trees and his tail rose and fell in worry. “How far do we need to go anyway? I don’t like being so far from the river.” He shifted uneasily and glanced now to the strange carver and now to the shadows between the trees.

“The lands are dangerous, and so your caution is not ill-advised. However, the savagery of the wilderness is quelled by my presence. At least, when I so choose. If you are made docile by dancing shadows, will your fury last when staring down the Green Murder?” he asked, without turning around. After crossing through a brush, they arrived in a small clearing. A giant pelt was held between two trees by transparent threads. It was large enough to engulf at least one manbjork beneath it entirely. The stranger continued to walk towards it and began his arcane preparations.

Mish-Cheechel puffed air through his teeth. “I’d be a liar if I said I’m not afraid, Carver - but it’s not the wilds I fear. I know these lands, these shadows - I even know the Green Murder. What I don’t know is you. Only a fool doesn’t have some fear of what he doesn’t know.” He paused at the edge of the clearing and leaned back on his tail, watching the mysterious ritual. “What’s this now?”

The stranger did not answer. At least, not in any tongue that the young bjork could understand. However, despite not understanding the words, Mish-Cheechel still felt as though he was being imparted with meaning. Knowledge flowed like a river into him, though even what it was teaching him was obscured by inexperience and shock.

The threads holding the leather in place vanished, yet it still remained upright and unmoved by the pull of the ground. The two wooden carvings floated from the Carver’s paws and hovered beside it, growing in length to match the pelt’s size. The entire length of the enlarged wooden cylinders remained covered in the odd symbols as before. The whole rite took mere seconds, but the experience felt as though it lasted hours. When the Carver stopped, the strange hide fell to the ground swiftly but with an unusual grace.

The stranger returned to speaking in a language that Mish-Cheechel could understand, “This is my gift to you, a saddle. However, know that my gifts are not to be taken lightly. You will only know this tool’s true value if you could place it upon the back of one of those death-bears you spoke of previously. I appreciate your honest words from earlier, and thus I will elaborate further than I might have otherwise. I entrust this task to you because you have already surrendered your fate to something far more dangerous than this. Overcoming it will grant you no relief from the might of the divine, however it may allow you to survive against the Green Murder’s servents”

Mish-Cheechel approached in a slight daze and stood beside the Carver. “A ‘saddle’? And what will it do if I place it on a death-bear? Kill it?” He bent over and inspected it. “It doesn’t look like a weapon.” He paused as he continued his examination, “but I guess you won’t tell me anyway, why’d I bother. And is that…” Mish-Cheechel gagged and stepped back, “is that someone’s skin?” His tail thrashed the ground. “Not a bjork, surely? That would be sick of you.”
“It is the pelt of a death-bear.” the Carver explained. “I have imparted the knowledge you require. Understanding will come with time.” he said. Mish-Cheechel nodded, his eyes gleaming as he stared at the pelt.

“The skin of a death-bear eh? Now how did you do that I wonder.” He placed his hands on the saddle and passed his fingers through the fur. When he looked back up at the stranger, he found that he was ambling off. “Wait, you’re going?” He rushed after him, “but you haven’t even told me your name!”

“Perhaps if you survive your encounter with a death-bear, and share freely the wisdom obtained through the ordeal with the other bjorks, then we shall meet again and I shall answer your question.” he said, vanishing in an instant. Mish-Cheechel paused and blinked for a few seconds, staring at where the god had been moments before.

“Ah, fucker,” he muttered, then instinctively snapped his paws to his mouth. “Ah shodna sid tha.”

---

• Summary [+]

  Mish-Cheechel the Avenger is stalking the woods being very vengeful. He comes across a stranger carving wood by a stream and gets talking to him - but lo and behold, this stranger smells of nothing! Or so Mish though, because a sniff later and he smells of the harvest - not that Mish knows what that is. It’s a very strong smell, but Mish thinks it beautiful. Still, it makes him very suspicious. After a brief exchange, in which the stranger is very mysterious and does not divulge anything other than his being a ‘carver’, Mish makes to leave. But the Carver stops him with his eyes of sunlight, and Mish - thinking him in some way related to Phelenia - attacks him. At this point, Mish-Cheechel the Avenger suffers a temporary set-back and decides to go stand near the river. Cough.
  They chat some more and the Carver offers to assist Mish in his quest for vengeance. He leads him into the forest and makes him a special saddle - but Mish has no idea what a saddle is or does! The Carver only tells him that he’ll find out when he successfully places it on the back of a death-bear. With that, and still refusing to tell Mish his name, the Carver vanished into thin air.
  
  Oh, and the Carver is Arvum by the way. Just in case you didn’t work that out.
• Vigor [+]

  Starting: 9
  Ending: 8
  
  -1 Vigor - Created the artifact: The Saddle of Mish-Cheechel o' Clan Rod - Any bear that wears the saddle becomes instantly tamed. Whenever the saddle is removed, the effect begins to wear off. However, the longer the bear wore the saddle, the longer it will take for the bear to revert back to being feral. After years, the bear will eventually become tamed even when the saddle is removed.
  
  -Free - Imparted bear-riding knowledge : Taught Mish-Cheechel the skills required to tame, raise, and ride bears. It is fragmented at first. Discounted through cultivation.

---

"Here we are, what a nice place to rest," Voi said while flying down next to a large lake in the western Giantlands. Landing gently on his feet with the humanity that he had brought with him. About four thousand in total and were arranged in spots around the lake. Still in their dormant state and had yet to be awakened, for Voi was still deciding on where his humans should live. He considered several places but ultimately chose the western Giantlands. Yes, the land is named because of the giant plants and animals that roam the northern continent. But, Voi believes that his humans can adapt and overcome the dangers of the land.

So after a brief time taking the lovely landscape, Voi started to shape the clay humans, motioning with his hands, and blue energy began to form around the clay humans. Taking a moment before, the clay humans started to change. At first, it was just the changes that Homura had instilled in them from the start. Their clay turned to flesh and their flesh varied in color. Individual features started to form on each of their bodies. Each one, either male or female, and the ability to reproduce.

This was when Voi added his own changes. Their skin changed to snow white or varying shades of grey. Varying shades of white hair. Increased sensitivity to death to the point they can detect souls that still linger in the mortal realm and last but not least. A gift that Voi calls the Soul Sight, the ability to see the souls of living or dead beings and other invisible entities and turn their eyes a bright blue when it is active. An innate skill that while primitive to Voi and his soul sight. This gift will suffice for now, and he decides on calling his humans the Voirans.

But, before Voi awakened them from their slumber now that they were ready to go and the blue energy around them had dissipated. He speaks to all of them in their sleeping minds. The first sound they would hear would be his voice. "Hello, my creations, this is your maker Voi, and I wish to speak to you before you awaken in this world called Galbar. You are the Voirans, a kind of human just different than your other brethren in this world. Before I awaken you, I wish to depart some knowledge to aid you in this land." Voi imprints in their minds the knowledge to hunt and survive in the Giantlands before saying one last thing. "You can overcome the challenges of this land and thrive here. Just remember what I have taught you and build upon it. Just remember that I will be watching your progress and count on each to survive."

With that, the Voirans started to wake up and stumble about before standing up. Looking around with curious eyes and Voi was nowhere to be seen. Unknown to them, Voi was watching their awakening from afar, invisible to the naked eye as he felt happy that the Voirans would do well in their new homeland and thinking of the other gods with do with their humans.

Then came Ruina's message, that Iqelis should not be trusted and will probably try to dominate others. A warning the Voi at first did not know of what to think. But, thought back to what Homura said and war and this being the first cracks of division between the gods. Granted, Iqelis's aspect is Doom though he has yet to actually meet with the god. Still, this is troubling, and perhaps he should heed Runia's warning. Since what comes with a god of Doom except for bad things most likely.

While Voi was thinking more about this, he sensed something. Something new but, he knew, would be a regular sensation eventuality. Sentient lives were departing for the afterlife. Curious to who these new deaths are, Voi departed by opening a portal to the afterlife and stepping through it.

There it was easy to find the recently departed souls. A group of what looked like rodents, like the ones that were left in the Celestial Palace by Tuku Llantu. Only more humanoid and Voi wasted no time with speaking to these transparent souls and stopping the group before it could reach their destination. When Voi approached them, the Bjorks were scared by Voi's presence and huddled together in fear. Not knowing what is happening or who he is.

"No, no no," Voi waved his arms in a nonthreatening manner and spoke gently. "I am not here to hurt you. You are safe, and I just wish to know how you died."

Still scared but, one of them moved slightly away from the group and spoke but sounded shaken. "Bears, large bears attacked us. They came charging out of the woods towards our home, our dam. Some of us they caught that could not flee in time, and others tried to fight but, they just kept killing us, and that is all I remember."

"Why would the bears attack your people? Did you aggravate these beasts?"

"I do not think so," Bjork said. "We did not venture into a bear's lair or kill one. We just lived our lives and built our dam. We did not do anything to cause bears to kill us."

Voi thought for a moment about what could have caused this tragedy, seeing among the group what looked like a child. A child? He thought they are too young to be here, they should be living their life, not here. Before he think further, he got his answer about what caused this. Hearing Mish-Cheechel's pledge of vengeance against a god from Galbar. A god did this? But, who and why? Who would commit this murder and command bears to kill these people. But, before he could think more, the same Bjork spoke again. "Who are you, and what is happening to us?"

Voi snapped out of his train of thought and addressed the Bjork. "I am Voi, God of Souls, and you all are heading towards your afterlife. A place souls go after they have.... died. What is your name?"

"Kailonk, and what awaits us in the afterlife?"

"Peace, Kailonk, peace for you and the rest of your group. For you, all are heading towards a good place to rest and spend with each other, Kailonk."

Kailonk slowly nodded his head, "That is good to hear, and thank you, Voi."

"No need to thank me, Kailonk, just be at peace. You are safe here." Then Voi released his hold on the group, and their souls resumed their journey to the afterlife. Thinking back on what has happened with Kailonk and his people. Voi realized that perhaps he needed more eyes on Galbar, since events are occurring that require his attention. So taking a portal back to Galbar, Voi and landed in a forest clearing. Which he wasted no time making his champions, motioning with his hands with blue energy forming on them. Just a flick of the wrist, two freshly made souls stood in front of him, floating above the ground. Voi channels his power to give these souls a body of flesh. One formed into a body of a male and the other a female. Both have snow white skin and look like Voirans. Along with the abilities of a Voiran. It was when they were done that Voi gave them sentience and the ability to turn into ravens. Then waking them both up as the blue energy dissipated from his hands.

Both of them sprang to life as they floated down to the ground. Both of them took a moment to look around before staying their gaze on Voi. Both knew well who Voi was and their purpose. "Welcome, my champions," Void said with glee. "I glad to see you awake, and I trust you know why I have created you."

"To be your eyes and ears, my lord," the female one spoke. "Yes, you are but, you can be more given time. But, before I give you your first mission, names need to be addressed. Voi looked at both intently before speaking again. "Your name is Mair," pointing at the female, "and your name is Aeron," point at the male. "You two are my eyes and ear in this world, and your first mission is to explore and gain knowledge of the Giantlands. While I tend to a matter."

"It will be done, my lord, both of them said before turning into ravens and departed.

Voi watched them both as they left and was glad that at least he can know more of this world while he tends to other matters. Which he also hopes that his champions will grow into their own in time. But, now Voi has a matter to attend to and meet with a certain angry Bjork.

In the area to the west of the Great River of Ja’rth hills rise and roll wildly with tall and old trees reaching and stretching and leaning and twisting for the warmth of the God-Light. From the steeper hills, rivers and creeks would flow down and towards the distant Ja’rth, carving their paths into the Galbar, with their flows carefully managed by a number of distinct dams located along their lengths. These dams were old. The wood they were made of was rotting, and many had caved in long ago after their previous occupants had abandoned them.

You see, over the years a lot of clans had tried to settle the area for it was peaceful and bright and bountiful, but none of them had been successful. The Classha had tried to settle the lands with their vast knowledge of proper dam-making, and they couldn’t. The Jonsha had tried to settle the lands with their peaceful and minimalistic ways, and they couldn’t. Even the Tussha, known for their resilience and determination, were unable to claim these lands as theirs. They would all, sooner or later, claim that these lands were cursed as anyone trying to make a life there would soon find themselves plagued by strange dreams as well as illness of both the body and the mind.

The only structure that remained was not even a dam but a burrow. Deep, maze-like, off-puttingly dry and messy, and dug over many years by the Old Bjork. It was now the only structure that remained occupied, although its occupant was now advanced in years and could recognize that his mind had gone a little. Perhaps that was a result of his lengthy stay in the cursed lands, or perhaps it was simply time claiming back what always belonged to it.

It was around summertime that I came upon this area and met the Old Bjork. I suppose I must’ve been the first fellow mind he’d seen in a long time, as he immediately took a liking to me and invited me to stay at his burrow after alerting me to the presence of ‘wild dangers’, which at the time I interpreted as death-bears and perhaps the occasional wolf pack. Eagerly, I accepted his offer.



It was during my third day staying at the Old Bjork’s Burrow that I finally asked him the question that had been in my head for days.

“Old Bjork, what is in the center of the woods?”

The Old Bjork had his back facing me as he sorted things out in a basket of his. I was sitting on the floor in the corner of his muddy living room. “Nothing.” He said, after too long a pause.

“Nothing?” I asked again, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, nothing.” He groaned a little as he had to bend down further to pick up an ingredient from the basket.

“Come to think of it, I’ve yet to see any of the ‘wild dangers’ you mentioned when I met you.” I asked, standing up. The Old Bjork stood straight, spire cracking and popping along the way, and then walked to a flat rock that doubled as a kitchen top as well as a workbench.

“They’ve seen you already, though. They always do. They always do.” He said. My hair stood on end as he slouched over the workbench, pulling out a strange artifact from the pouch he always had slung over his shoulder. It was shiny, with tiny grooves all along its form and a shape that I had never seen before. If I were to describe its colour, I think the most accurate description would be that of an elderly Bjork’s wet fur after a swim.

I watched the Old Bjork inspect the artifact, and then pull out a sharp stone and begin to try to scratch the artifact. I couldn’t help but draw closer once I saw that the rock couldn’t even scratch the artifact. I rubbed my eyes not once but twice and leaned so close that the Old Bjork had to practically push my face away with his sweaty paws.

“What is that, Old Bjork?” I asked him. For the first time since I had been his guest, I saw his expression fall and a strange emptiness fill his eyes, which were solely focused on the artifact. At this moment, his disheveled fur, hunched back and lopsided mouth didn’t just look like the results of old age, but something… Something else.

He didn’t answer. Instead, I peeked into his pouch, which he had left open after taking out his knife. The sight nearly made me throw up, and instantly I turned around and went to the guest room. I hastily packed my things and slung my pack onto my back. I was in a hurry, because inside of the Old Bjork’s pouch, I saw a small skull… That of a kit.

I turned to leave the room and saw the Old Bjork standing in the doorway. Sharp rock in one hand, and the other patting his pouch.

My heart pounded in my chest.

He took a step, “Listen, about tha- Oof!”

I threw my pack towards him as hard as I could. While he was distracted, I pushed past him and ran out of his Burrow.

“WAIT! DON’T GO!”

I ran for so, so very long. Until my legs gave out and my lungs felt like molten salt. Deep into Old Ja’rth I ran, deep into the heart of those cursed lands from which no mind came back intact.

There, I hid under a big tree root and passed out.



I dreamed of a dark place. There was no light, and yet at the edge of my vision there were shadows reaching towards me with their limbs twisting and fingers and claws stretching and dissipating into nothingness. From the shadows came an incessant whispering… The words were gibberish, but the emotion behind those words were as clear as the waters at World’s End. The whispers, they were the whispers of hunger, of anguish, of a desire to leave--The whispers of desperation. Were these whispers a work of my mind? No matter how many times I turned around, I could never catch a glimpse at any of the shadows.

Creak

I awoke with a start, bumping my head against the tree root above me. I hissed in pain and rubbed the sore spot, before looking around with my eyes peeled. I must’ve looked like an owl back then, as I noticed the… Thing, standing next to the entrance to my little improvised burrow. It had no skin, no muscle, no flesh, and it was made entirely out of little pieces similar to the artifact that the Old Bjork had been tinkering with. I could only see its four (or was it five?) hooves and part of what I assumed were its legs.

I held my breath as it stood there, motionless, and lifeless. It felt as if this was no mere living being, but something far stranger, something that should not be real.

Eventually, I dared breathe. It still did not show any signs of life. Was it trying to trick me into lowering my guard? But what kind of predator would simply stand there while knowing my location and smelling my fear? The thing couldn’t be alive… But if it wasn’t alive, then how had it moved to where it was now? Had someone, or perhaps… Something else placed it there?

The thought sent a shudder down my spine and I had to forcefully stop myself from slapping my tail against the ground.

Minutes passed.

Eventually, I dared peek out from my hiding spot, up at the body of the thing. As I had expected, its entire body consisted of shiny, gray-ish shapes and forms, intertwined and interlocking with each other. From a certain angle, it looked like a representation of a deer’s body, and from other angles it looked like that of a lynx, or a wolf.

Finally, I dared to crawl out of safety in order to inspect the thing more closely. No warmth emanated from it, and a strange brownish coat had claimed some of its parts… It was like a life-sized idol, only made by the strange shapes and materials and representing a horrifying amalgamation of creatures.

I leaned closer to its face, the one which I found so strangely familiar, and looked into its eyes. For the most part, they were smooth and featureless balls, with the only expectation being a tiny depression in the center to pass as a pupil.

Its eyes turned to look into mine.

My heart skipped a beat, then I gasped and took a few steps back.

I watched it for a long time after that, and when it made no further moves, I turned tail and quickly left the cursed thing behind.



I was lost, I realized. I must’ve spent days in Old Ja’rth at that point, and it showed in the state of my fur and how ragged my clothing had become. The pride of the Djinnsha Clan brought down to such a state. I chuckle from the thought, but the hilarity of my situation suddenly vanished once my mind once more focused on the thing I had seen all those nights ago.

It wasn’t until later that day that the forest gave way to a… Clearing? To this day I’m still not sure what it truly was, for its ground was not soil but sand, and it was more like a crater than anything else. Stil, it was a good break from the oppressive atmosphere of the forest itself. The sight of a large mountain far away in the horizon also served as a reminder that the forest wasn’t in fact never ending, and that if I pulled myself together, I would be able to push ahead like I had always done before.

It was dusk by that point, and combined with the lack of trees in the strange clearing, it was the perfect opportunity to point myself in the right direction to escape the cursed forest.

With that done, I looked back at the sandy, crater-like clearing and noticed something in the center of it--Outcroppings of some kind. One of them caught and reflected a glint of godlight back at me, reminding me of the way that light seemed to reflect from the strange thing I had come across earlier.

Against my better judgement, I walked closer. I needed to know what the outcroppings were. Closer and closer I drew to the outcroppings… Until I realized what they were.

I froze in my tracks as they all turned their heads towards me, the shiny and brown artifacts in their necks creaking and grinding against each other--A sound that haunts my bones to this day.

They were not outcroppings, they were heads, belonging to a vast number of buried things. All sorts of creatures, both prey and predator, lay there buried up to their necks, staring at me with those empty, featureless eyes. I heard distant whispering, almost outside of my range of hearing. It was unintelligible, but I could tell… That was the same whispering I’d heard in my dreams, the same whispering I could never truly understand.

I stepped back and stumbled as I saw the head in the middle of it all. It was the only one that wasn’t looking at me, and instead looked at the darkening sky. A small Bjork’s head. A kit.

Then the Galbar itself trembled. Sand was kicked up everywhere, and branches at the edges of the clearing fell and trees broke under the sheer wildness of the quake.

Through the sand, I could see the faraway mountain standing up. As it moved, I saw the way that the dying godlight reflected off of it, and I threw up. Then, the buried figures started to dig themselves out while I was still recovering. I couldn’t gather my strength--Days of aimlessly wandering around had taken their toll. The last thing I remember was hearing something running at me from behind, and then everything was dark.



The next time I woke, I was back at the Old Bjork’s Burrow at the edge of Old Ja’rth. In one corner of the room was my pack of stuff, untouched, and on the other corner was a bowl of fruit. I ate them all eagerly, and then the Old Bjork walked in and looked at me with those empty eyes of his.

“You should leave and never come back. The longer you stay, the worse the dreams will get. They know you now, too… So they’ll never stop... This is the reason why no living Bjork lives round these parts. Not because the ruins of Old Ja’rth are difficult to settle with its lack of rivers and overgrown soil--But because its original occupants are still here... Even after the Mountain came and ate them and their dam.”

After that, the Old Bjork turned and patted his pouch before walking towards the kitchen. “I’ve got what’s left of my kit in my pouch… What was left after the Mountain came, anyway.”

I wasted no time and left the Old Bjork’s Burrow, heading back towards the nearest civilized dam.

After I had gone back to safety and had time to recuperate from my journey, I vowed to myself that I'd never return to Old Ja'rth nor tell anyone about what transpired there, lest curiosity get the better of them and they end up meeting a fate worse than death itself.