---

The exhaustion that was plaguing Benea as she guided humanity through the wilds of the node was apparent. To her left walked Jermane, eager to never leave his Lady’s side and to her right was the caring Monica. Xavior himself took a pragmatic position and whether it was out of care for Benea or not, he decided to run ahead and brave the storms to stabilize the node on his own — if not to spare the Goddess, then to spare her flock.

Still for now, the column of life headed by the Benea trudged through the wilds of Node 12 and in fact had redirected to go in the direction of Node 11 — the idea being that likely a good portion of the human population would split off from Benea once Xavior found success (unwilling to brave further wilds) while the rest would continue the journey north to Node 11 with the sister goddesses.

Even without such a decree, a sizable number of mortals had already agreed among themselves to stay with Benea, most notably the group that had formed around Jermane’s leadership. Said group numbered about eleven if including Jermane and have adopted a protective stance towards Benea. But for now they walked behind save for Jermane, Benea being uncharacteristically quiet.

Monica merely observed her sister and their surroundings, repeatedly becoming lost in her thoughts upon what she saw, with a tranquil expression on her face. She seemed ever hesitant to approach the humans, remaining rather reticent during all conversations between Benea, Jermane, and the other mortals, as well as averting her gaze whenever she found herself being looked at. Once again, she attempted to offer her assistance.

“Sister, you can rely upon me to help you. Perhaps we should share the burden of protecting the people…” She said, interrupting the lingering quiet between them.

“Dear sister…” Benea’s voice wasn’t as lively as it usually was. “I’m perfectly fine, perhaps-” A gulp of air. “Perhaps my finest.” Under her breath, Benea whispered. “Oh dear me.”

“Hmm… I am having difficulty discerning your state, as you seem to be struggling to speak. I… just want to be of use, a little. I would like to contribute, since you asked me to come with you. Do you believe I cannot help you?” Monica continued with a hint of curiosity in her tone, peering at Benea, leaning closer to her as if she could perceive some crucial detail from coming nearer.

All at once the world paused. A lingering buzz held in the air — or perhaps that was the ring of ears no longer hearing the blasts of lightning and the crack of stone. Benea blinked sluggishly and Monica could feel her sister’s power slowly fade… but danger didn’t come of it. All at once the world blossomed and a lush green pasture erupted under foot. The dangerous crags and blasts of stone and electricity were replaced with gentle meadow slopes, babbling brooks, and the call of field critters.

A small smile appeared on Benea’s face as she closed her eyes. Without a word to Monica, the Calla Lily Goddess buckled and fell forward limp. Jermane’s arms reached out and caught her falling form before helping her to rest on her knees.

“Dearest Xavior…” Benea muttered in a breath.

Monica watched over her sister for a moment, but then let her inquisitive nature draw her attention elsewhere, she turned and studied her new surroundings with wonder shining in her eyes. She strode forth a few steps, and examined the grass and flowers that had grown so swiftly all around, and the scent of nature washed over her, sweet and serene. Monica thought to herself that she would be happy to spend an eternity in this blissful realm, looking at the local flora, but she knew that there was still so much more waiting out there…

“It is a beautiful world.” Monica happily remarked, returning to her sister, content with what she had seen. The winged goddess could see mountains and forests far away at what she assumed were the edges of the lands under the protection of the claimed node.

“Monica, darling,” Benea spoke from her reclined spot, her energy returning slowly. “Perhaps it would be good for you to exercise your divine will as we cross into Node 11. I’d happily do it in your stead, of course, but I think the lesson would only benefit you — what do you think? Of course you would agree, I wager.”

“I think that allowing me to aid you would be beneficial to all. I will gladly navigate the path ahead and protect our people from harm.” Monica gently proclaimed, her conviction conveyed through the compassionate smile she wore, as she kneeled beside Benea. She contemplated for a moment before speaking again.

“So should we hurry, sister, or can we rest and enjoy the beauty all around us for a time?” Monica inquired, becoming more meek after asking her question.

With dizziness in her eyes, Benea grinned. “For your sake, we can rest here and enjoy the meadows.”

Monica nodded, before stepping back and falling backwards. Instead of landing upon the verdant blanket of grass beneath her, she became enveloped in a swirl of ethereal feathers flying all around her, then she suddenly soared into the sky above with the wind guiding her ascent. It was immediately evident that the pale goddess was not tired in the slightest, and was taking full advantage of the offered respite by flying across the vast plains and seeing all that she could.

Her wings were carried along by the breeze, the wind uplifting her higher and higher, farther and faster than the birds below her, and she felt free in the open sky where Sylphrena granted her the gift of commanding the powerful gales, so it was effortless soaring wherever she wished in that moment. She briefly considered flying to Xavior to thank him for his brave actions, but she did not desire for Benea to feel left alone either. Monica appeased herself with the fact that they all would meet again soon, and continued her liberating journey across the endless azure realm, until she decided it was time to return to her sister and the humans, gracefully alighting among them with a demure smile.



“I can see I taught you well!” Benea clasped her hands together about her waist while Jermane nodded along with her words enthusiastically. The words themselves were directed at Monica, the goddess now using her own divine will to protect the humans as they pushed into the untamed land of Node 11. It had only been a few days since they entered the wilds, giving them about one day to reach their destination, but already Benea had been multitudes more cheery and talkative since delegating the protection duties to Monica.

Monica endeavored to listen to her sister as she spoke, but being preoccupied with the concentration of power being used to summon an aura of peace in the lands of chaos combined with concern for all of those that she sought to protect had caused her to have some struggles in listening to what was being said. It had occurred to her that it would certainly have been more efficient to have traveled ahead and claim the node before escorting the humans through the currently hazardous realm, but she refrained from suggesting such because she enjoyed being near Benea, even in this rather strenuating situation.

“You are as wise as you are beautiful, my sister.” Monica murmured, idly pondering whether she said the correct words or not, because she was uncertain whether she heard Benea properly with the tumultuous storm raging just beyond her barrier. She hoped she was audible enough to be heard as well.

“Oh do go on,” Benea teased, but left a long enough pause at the end to put how much of a joke her demand really was. Flickering her eyes from Monica, Benea squinted. “We are only a day’s march from the node it seems, my dear. Perhaps I should take over while you make way to the node?”

“My lady!” Jermane’s voice suddenly roared and in a moment he was standing between Benea and something that had snuck up on the procession. Whatever it was, it wasn’t normal. It was a large lump of shadows and earth, twisted and ever shifting. Uncannily it would phase to the left and to the right as if reality couldn’t decide where to place it. Worse still, it was opening a great disgusting maw.

All at once, tendrils shot from the mouth of the strange beast, but in the same moment, the ten who guarded Benea leapt into action. Karlene, the warrior of Benea, dressed in furs and fury was the first to tackle one of the tendrils. Her dark hair fell over her face as she struggled with the mighty limb, her own arms swelling and flexing with strength.

Another tendril snapped past her and towards Benea, but Jermane punched out with a boulder’s fist and with a crack, he sent the strange appendage curling back. Benea’s face twisted with worry. “Monica, dear, I think perhaps you should really make your exit then.”

Another tendril shot out, but a mist of sharp rocks quickly pinned it to the ground — another of Benea’s paladins smirking at his kill, only for his eyes to widen when the tendril swelled, sending the rocks right back. Karlene could be heard screaming as her own bout suddenly turned against her, and Jermane couldn’t punch fast enough as the tendrils came snapping to and fro.

“Stay safe, sister.” Monica said, passing the mantle of protection upon Benea before she stepped out of its shelter and into the storm. Fortunately sustaining a much smaller shield around herself alleviated the burden immensely, and her vigor returned to her. Calling upon the power of Sylphrena, she flew into the maddening sight of a world wracked with destruction and disorder.

In her mind, she recalled the layout of the land that she had seen imprinted upon the first node, ascertaining the exact location and distance to her destination - She could reach there swiftly. It irked her to know that even though she flew as fast as sound traveled, it would take her even a brief period of time to reach the node and bring peace to this region for she could not ever endure returning only to find that she was not fast enough. A myriad of strange sights flew by her in a sluggish blur, things that appealed only to the insane and violent, as the earth erupted with rage beneath her, disgorging filth and vile substances that churned and contorted around her as the sky shattered into broken pieces filled with blazing scars in between the fragments and a blightful miasma.

It was difficult to navigate because she could not see ahead of her, but easier to traverse as Monica had become engulfed in a vehement whirlwind which allowed her to rush through the pandemonium via a mixture of brute strength and agility, careful to avoid the terrifying forces ripping apart reality and spewing forth ruinous sludge that would reduce existence to ashes blown away in the frenzy. She could not afford to waste any time when those she cared about were in danger, fear filled her hammering heart and her vision became stained with blossoming tears, so she blindly burst through another fissure in the heavens and pierced a massive monstrous shifting stone that emerged from nothingness to obscure her path.

Beyond the baleful boulder’s broken remains awaited the node, and Monica desperately surged forward to touch it as the chaos encircled her threatening to end her journey prematurely… She could not slow herself, so she smashed into the short unbreakable structure of power hastily imbuing it with her divinity, and closed her eyes as she felt the agony of her arms fracture upon impact, before traveling beyond the node itself another great distance, tumbling and rolling in over and over again - the haunting sound of her wings being bent and torn were accompanied by her screaming as her body was battered against the unforgiving earth, before she sank into the shadows of silence, and could feel nothing at all.

She was not awake to witness the world all around her change suddenly as her influence and intentions seeped into the node and instilled it with direction and purpose, the powers of creation rewriting reality in accordance to the will of the one that touched it. As she had been blind, so too shall the world be blind as light was banished and replaced with an omnipresent sea of shadows, undulating and undermining all sight with its frightful presence.

The unseen simulacrums of remaining earth and sundered sky could not be illuminated yet and in the absence of the sunshine, it was cruelly cold. Though she had reached her objective, Monica had only succeeded at creating a second nightmarish realm, where darkness dwells and humanity would drown.

Upon the death of Peninal and the birth of the new gods, Cotazur had existed. In fact, he had been brought to life and limb in the very same instant as his peers. However, before any sentience had kicked in for the gods, including himself, there had been just a handful of seconds - a slow inhale’s worth of time - when instinct had occupied the whole of the mind. In that brief moment, hardly enough time for any newborn, god or not, to process any sensory input, the instincts of Cotazur had sent him running off with divine speed. At that moment, he hadn’t even considered why he did it - after all, he hadn’t had a mind to think with. But the very second after, when all the gods’ minds had settled neatly inside their heads and the first voices began to speak, Cotazur was hiding behind a nearby boulder.

Why in the world was he here, he had thought. He should have immediately gotten up, walked back to the rest and pretended like nothing had happened. But how could he? What would they think of him if he did that? What would he say if they asked? How would he even present himself? “Cotazur the Magnificent”? “Cotazur the Proud”? Just “Cotazur”?

A sharp C-A-W shook something deep within him. No, no, no, this wasn’t the right time to get up. They were, were, were obviously discussing something very important - yes. He wouldn’t want to interrupt that.

But wait, wasn’t he also important? In fact, he could hardly think of anyone more important that himself! Why, he demanded, was he not over there right now, proclaiming his greatness for his future admirers? Yeah! Why?! He had decided. He would get up and demand their attention.

A grey-maned head peeked over the boulder just in time to see a maddened female rip teeth out of a corpse with an ear-shattered snap. No! No, no, no, no, no, no, not yet, not yet. Holy fuck, these people were crazy! What sort of person - no, creature - just up and rips out a tooth from someone, even if it’s dead? Oh, he’d show her, that demoness - he’d rip her teeth out some day!

Cotazur slapped himself across the face with a mighty clap. Then he dove to the ground and covered his head under his arms. Fuck, had they heard him? He went quiet as the grave for ten solid minutes. He heard a long, polite monologue of sorts, followed by some curter responses and, finally, the gentle growl of some large entity. It was at this point when Cotazur dared peek over the edge once more. The crowd had grown smaller, and beside the colossal black pole that everyone seemed to fuzz so much about, there stood a colossal three-necked monster - a demon of unspeakable evil, exponentially more damned for every head on its scaley form.

The man curled up in complete silence again, at least to an outside viewer. Inside his head was a chaotic forum of voices. This was surely Hell, masked by innocuous green hills and blue skies. Oh yes, that had to be it. Yes, yes, yes - the voices were in agreement.

One amongst the forum proposed a most logical segue: Hell though it may be, it was clear he had been sent here for a purpose. The voices hummed in agreement, oh yes, oh yes. This was to be his moment. He knew how great and mighty he was, Cotazur - the Cotazur. He had barely been alive for an hour and already he knew his purpose, his mythos, his legend. His was a fate of glory, and it would start by uniting those madmen by the pillar against this tremendous threat.

He cast another glance over the edge. Some enshrouded cloud with a lantern was addressing the nests of filthy bipeds around the pillar. Alright, perhaps now was the right time. Fuck that stupid fart in a dress - he would speak and be heard, damn it!

“Attention, everyone! You need not fear that disgusting, abhorrent beast before you! Your saviour and salvation stands here in the flesh, and you can already no doubt–...”

No, that was stupid, he judged.

”Attention, everyone! You need not… Fear not!”

Fear not, yeah, that was better.

”Attention, everyone… Everyone - KNEEL!”

Yeah, he would enter with power. Make it known to all that he was in charge. HIM. Cotazur! Cotazur the Mighty, the Magnificent, the Magnanimous, the Masculine, the Most Serene…

The knock of stone against stone shut up the voices in his head. Shit, they had found him. They had found him and someone was dropping a mountain on his head. He tightly shut his eyes and awaited the end. An hour passed, over the course of which his breathing grew increasingly erratic. By the sixtieth minute on the dime, his eyes snapped open again. He had survived. Quivering eyes turned skywards to find no mountain on a descent towards him, yet he could not seem to still his breath.

They had tricked him. Yes, that’s what had happened: They had tricked him with some kind of spell. What craven would await its faith weeping and pissing itself in the grass behind a rock like some, some, some craven?! They would pay. By all this world’s powers, they would fucking pay.

In his hand materialised a giant claymore, almost as long as he was tall. He tossed himself on top of the rock and screamed,



He kicked off and charged at the pillar, squealing like a stuck boar. Behind him, his cape followed him like a batallion of horses. Rage clouded Cotazur’s every visual nerve, shrouded them to the point where he could not in fact see that he was pathetically alone, save for one giant hydra peering at him with concern. Yet Cotazur’s charge showed no sign of slowing down; in fact it sped up. So the hydra did as any sensible creature would do and untwirled two of its heads from around the pillar to assume a wary combat stance.

Cotazur had begun to observe it. He saw it clearly - he knew he was charging at a giant the size of a hill. Yet he could not stop. He had, after all, proclaimed that he would fucking end it - to turn tail would look stupid. So he charged on, swinging his sword in the air like branch on the wind.



Glomp.

One of the heads consumed the god’s torso in a small nibble, picked him up and threw him some distance away. Cotazur tumbled across the grass with whimpers and coughs, rolling to a final stop at the edge of the hill. Shocked and tired, his head lifted from the ground, brown and dusty with dirt, to behold his adversary who mostly just looked to feel sorry for him. He tried to push himself up, but found that he was bleeding. A weak hand rubbed at his abdomen to find a deep cut as though from a blade. Ignoring the claymore that laid bloodsloshed some distance away, Cotazur pointed a dooming finger at the hydra.

“You… You monster… You have wounded… Me…” He felt his vision blur, but pushed through the pain and crawled to a high squat. “This… This isn’t over… I will… I will end you, and I will show this whole world that I am capable of… Of…” The blood loss overpowered him and Cotazur tumbled down a hill yet again, the world fading to black.

The disturbingly stoic face of Benea stared into the darkness of node 11. Behind her a brilliant golden light illuminated her followers and even cut the realm in half. Her left hand was on the node and her right was held in front of her. A road of golden light (by her command) had formed and cut a path from the borders of Node 12 all the way to the borders of Node 6. It repelled the dangers of 11 with its divine light and dazzling flagstones of light. With one task done, Benea was onto the next.

“Bring me to Monica,” Benea commanded and three orbs appeared in her right hand. One of red, one of blue, and one of green. They fluttered and spun in the air before bee-lining towards the suspected crash site of Monica only to suddenly stop and circle back to Benea. The goddess squinted and caught the orbs in her hand before popping them into splashes of light.

“What is it my lady?” Jermane stepped behind her.

“Monica is interfering with my guiding lights,” Benea said softly. “The poor dear doesn’t want to be found.”

“What shall we do?”

Benea turned to her paladin and smiled softly, though clearly she was upset. “We have to deliver our people to safety. Too many would be harmed looking for someone who refuses to be found.” A pause. “Come darling.”

Together the two turned back to the road of light and made their way onto its flagstones. Each step seemed to echo in the empty realm of node 11, and an unseen wind was breathing over the two as they made their way. The uncanny land at least felt warm near the node, thanks to the road of light. Benea couldn’t help but wonder how long her construct could fight off the umbrium and the other strange things Monica’s will birthed.

Worst still, Benea couldn’t help but wonder what exactly festered in Monica to have this be a symptom of her will. Her face scrunched in thought, it was foreboding.



Humanity was on the line as was Benea’s plans for true order, so without Monica, Benea left for the north to reach node 6. For humanity, Benea had to move onward and to keep the train of lives moving north on the road of light, especially while it was at its strongest.

The rest of the way was a silent one, with only a cold breeze to wail now and again out of the darkness. Light from the road kept the journey from being a blind one, and the warmth it provided at the very least warmed the bones of the mortals that walked it. Benea’s usual smile was blunted now, though, having witnessed such a drastic failure in the Node 11, putting a wrench in her ultimate plans. In her mind she conjured up various solutions for the landscape. Short of rehauling the entire area, Benea figured periodic light showers that dissolved umbrium and injected heat into the realm could be one conclusion for life, or maybe even some sort of creature or beast that did the same. She shook her head, one part worried for Monica’s safety, two parts annoyed at the result of their journey into 11, and 3 parts concerned over the true will of Monica.

“My lady,” Karlene broke Benea’s thoughts. She stabbed a stone spear at the horizon where the road’s end was coming into view. “Salvation.”

“Point with your hand when addressing our Lady,” Jermane corrected. Scowling for a moment, Karlene lowered her spear and pointed with her finger.

“I see,” Benea finally answered, free from her thoughts. “Thank you.”

Renault, the Blade of Benea, heckled behind Karlene. “Good going.” He stepped past her, giving her shoulder a shake as he walked by. Karlene’s face twisted with annoyance and with one swift motion, sent the butt of her spear to tangle Renault’s legs, sending the man falling forward.

A rough hand grabbed the back of Renault’s fur-lined collar, keeping his face from slamming into the road below. The owner of the hand, Larissa (the Axe of Benea) simply shook her head.



Now well practiced in navigating the horrific wilds of unclaimed regions, Benea found Node 6 to be terrible rather than existentially disastrous. Of course there were the beasts of the land, but the paladins armed with Benea managed to fend off the smaller ones while the Goddess' planning helped them avoid the larger ones. If anything, the group deserved an easy journey and this was as close as they were going to get.

Through the shifting lands of desert, tundra, forest and mountains (more often upside down than up right) Benea finally found the central node. It was as black as she remembered the last and as unbothered by the shifting lands as could be. If this structure was alive, Benea thought, then surely it boasted a patience above anything else.

A porcelain hand reached up to the dark node. Benea’s eyes were stuck on the glossy surface and the lightning storm that it reflected off in the distance. The blue arcs webbed and scattered wildly across the surface, only hindered by the shadow of Benea’s hand. A small smile formed on her face and her hand pressed on the cold surface. The ebbing of the electricity froze immediately, and all sound drained away.

“Benea’s will be done.” A voice not unlike grinding stones boomed over the region and all at once the ground began to shake and the sky began to swirl. The humans themselves froze in both awe and fear, unsure of what was to come.

What did come was a great white flash, and all sight was blinded, all sound turned to harsh ringing, and all smell disappeared.

Slowly everyone’s eyes readjusted and the ringing gave way to the buzz of summer insects and the chirp of birds. The smell of flowers and grass entered the noses of the humans and the warmth of a pleasant sun laid on their shoulders. Plush grass hugged everyone’s legs, rising up past their knees. They stood in a meadow that seemed to stretch far and wide, only to be eaten by gentle slopes and oak and maple forests. Brooks no wider than Jermane babbled under the grass, and freckled deer bounded up and around wooden copses.

Benea stood smiling by the node, a white gazebo housing it. She clasped her hands at her waist and smiled. “Welcome home.”

Lined eyes groggily opened to face a stone ceiling. It felt as though a layer of dust took flight off of Cotazur’s face as he weakly smacked desert lips and turned his head. Where, where was he? He tried to push himself to a seat but stopped in his movement as a fiery pain stabbed him through the torso. In that instant, a rush of memories returned. The rock, the voices, the beast…

The wound.

He laid back down with a thump and tried lifting just his head instead. His crusty eyes settled on a belt of reeds around his waist, their yellow colour only slightly tainted by spots of red just over the centre of the stinging pain. He was close to healing - how long had he been out?

A rush of fabric hinted at an intruder and Cotazur pushed himself to a seat despite the pain. Wet pats of naked feet pittered against damp stone and the flicker of a torch unveiled more features of the room, or more specifically, the cave. Cotazur sucked in a slow breath and, gathering his strength, summoned a small dagger into his hand. The steps came closer; Cotazur swiftly hid the dagger behind his back.

Come on now, you little shit - coming to finish the job, huh? Come on… COME ON.

“Oh!” said a gentle face as the torch rounded the corner and came into view. Cotazur stiffened. Before him stood a young woman, only just barely at the end of her teens, holding a bark tray with something steaming. The god pulled his legs a bit further in; the dagger hand was wound up like a spring. The girl’s smile waned, but only barely. “Oh, no need to be scared of me, stranger. I mean you no harm. I just didn’t know you’d woken up already.” She knelt down next to him, prompting Cotazur to realise he had been laying on a reed mat on the floor. “You were barely breathing when we found you. My father sewed your wound shut as best he could - the belt is just to make sure it stays clean.” She lifted a small bark bowl off the tray and set the torch in a hole between some stones.

Her words relieved some tension in Cotazur’s body, and his intense eyes stared into hers with drilling properties. The girl met them briefly and returned the stare with a short-lived smile - Cotazur could outstare a fish. Her eyes were quick to return to her task. The graying man’s intense gaze shifted to the steaming bowl. “How long have I been asleep?” he demanded as he took the bowl from her a little too harshly and gave it a sharp sip. The girl recoiled slightly but showed only momentary annoyance at his behaviour.

“We found you three days ago,” she answered. “You didn’t show much sign of life beyond your breathing until yesterday evening. My father’s hand nearly blistered at the warmth of your fever, I’ll tell ya…” she giggled politely. Cotazur stared wordlessly back. “And then,” she continued with a flat mouth, “you rambled quite a bit in your sleep. You… Cursed a lot.”

Cotazur blinked for the first time since he had awoken. “What did I say?”

The girl blinked back. “W-well, from what I remember–”

“The exact details - WHAT DID I SAY?!” he screamed suddenly. The girl threw herself back.

“H-hey! Hey, okay, it’s alright. You’re safe, okay? No, no need to shout, alright?” She swallowed and eyed the cave entrance. Cotazur panted like a sprinter. The girl stood up. “I am sorry for disturbing you. I’ll leave you be.”

“NO. No.” In a second, Cotazur was standing up and blocking the entrance. The girl froze.

“How are you–”

“No, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, would you–...” Cotazur held up his hands in a small gesture. The girl positioned her body sideways in defense. “Would you… Stay, please? I’m… I’m really… Just really…” He searched visibly for words, his eyes darting back and forth like flies swimming in milk. “... I want to thank you, for nursing me back to health.”

The girl’s lip quivered. “Y-yeah. Of course.” Her eyes bypassed him and yearned for the exit. “I’ll… I’ll get you some more broth, sounds good?”

“No, I mean, I am really, really grateful. Like, I cannot overstate my gratitude, really.”

“Yeah, uh-huh, that’s very kind of you to say.” Another desperate glance. “You sure you aren’t hungry? A-actually, I can hear my dad calling me and–”

“You know what? I want to give you a hug. How about a hug, hmm? Come on, bring it in here.”

“Actually, I really think I should–”

“No, no, no, you have to let me show my gratitude first. Come on, see? Now we’re hugging and I am showing you–”

“P-please, you’re– being–...”

“- that I am very, very satisfied with your service, or possibly favour for me–...”

“- you’re— hurting… m–...”

“- which I will be sure to repay in kind.”

Snap.

Like an empty sack, the girl collapsed to the ground as soon as he released her, white foam dripping out of her mouth. Cotazur blinked. “Hello?” He gave the girl a gentle kick then looked around. “Hello? Did you fall asleep?” Sensing beads of sweat form down his back, he knelt down and shook her. “Hey! Hey, what’s going on?! Are you playing a trick on me? ARE YOU PLAYING A TRICK ON ME, YOU FUCKING WHORE?!” He picked up the corpse and shook it so hard that many more bones inside the fleshy bag began to rattle. He pushed it up against the wall and smacked it bloody, though no reaction other than the straight physical ones could be discerned upon that once sweet face. Cotazur’s breathing was the only sound in the cave.

Pat, pat, pat…

No… No, it wasn’t.

“Grisha?” came a gruff voice. “Grisha, are you alright? I heard shouting and–”

He turned the corner and saw the maltreated corpse of the girl.

“Gr–” was the only sound he could muster before his throat opened up and spilled blood all over Cotazur’s arm. The now crimson dagger glistened in the light of the torches around the cave, and Cotazur’s breathing overtook the soundscape once more.

Fuck… Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…

“Kolja? Grisha? Is everything okay in there?”

Fuck.

---

A long distance away, a blood-drenched man was crossing an eternal black desert with crimson storms and plague-green skies. His left hand wielded a dagger; his right wielded a rapier. Both had gluttoned themselves on both flesh and blood that day. Cotazur’s face lacked any emotion; as did his eyes.

“This wasn’t my fault,” he repeated to himself for the 13 771st time. He had counted. For every time he said it, the world agreed a little more than this hadn’t been his fault. The voices said so.

“This wasn’t my fault.” 13 772.

On the horizon, a crack of lightning revealed a colossal, pillaring silhouette through the red sand on the wind.

“This wasn’t my fault.” 13 773.

“I’m a good person.” 4 156.

From the approaching node, a deep growl rumbled through the ground.

“This wasn’t my fault.”

A crimson shadow in the wind appeared from behind the node, its silhouette revealing several arms, heads and legs.

“This wasn’t my fault.”

Another roar signaled the monster’s charge. A ten-armed, twenty-legged beast with four heads and eight jaws fell down upon him from the hill of the node. The monster got the first strike, descending on the god in his guilt-tripping trance. Three arms slapped Cotazur to the right, sending him flying several hundred metres. A crater formed around the man and he pushed himself slowly to his feet again.

“It… It wasn’t my fault…” He coughed up bloody phlegm. “I didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

Tremors rocked the earth as the monster barreled towards him. Cotazur’s trance still had him trapped, but his rage was beginning to sense its direction. His eyes filled with a ravenous fury that would see his clothing even redder than it already was.

“That, that fucking whore… She tricked me. That fucking pussy, he tricked me… They all, they all fucking tricked me. Over and over, and over, and over…” He kicked off against the beast and jabbed the dagger up into the roof of one of the beast’s eight mouths. The creature screamed and closed the jaws around the arm in question. Cotazur grit his teeth and snarled, jabbing the rapier into one of the other four heads as best he could, but the god was outarmed, outlegged and outmouthed. His left leg was caught in another mouth, and his right arm was grabbed by four arms which proceeded to pull with the might of three elephants. Cotazur squealed in agony and managed to kick one head hard enough to break one jaw, but that wouldn’t help him much.

“FUCK! You… Piece of…” He retracted his right arm as best he could, but even divine power could hardly combat four, now five, six arms pulling in the opposite direction. “RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!” In a desperate shift of momentum, Cotazur carved the dagger in his left hand out through the head it had been stabbed through and, getting just the element of suddenness that it needed, carved off the fingers of four out of six arms holding his right. The monster’s grip slipped, partially lubed by all the blood, and Cotazur’s right arm was free, though dislocated to the point where he couldn’t use it. Still, with one arm free, he swung it back and used the momentum to charge up a better kick, breaking the jaw holding his left arm. The monster stumbled back, now down three out of eight mouths and beginning to seriously contemplate running to lick its wounds. In its agony, it dropped Cotazur to the ground. The god, riding on pure adrenaline despite a dislocated arm, a nearly chewed-off arm and a broken leg, jumped at the monster again, though with much less vigour. His right arm could still move, so with it, he grabbed the rapier still stuck inside one of the heads and just started stabbing furiously.

“I AM INNOCENT! I did nothing wrong! I did nothing wrong!”

His hand conjured forth an axe and he switched to a chopping motion.

“I did nothing wrong! It wasn’t my fault! It wasn’t my fault!”

The axe grew bigger and heavier, yet it still kept up its speed. In fact, the speed increased as the chops grew bloodier.

“Wasn’t my fault! Wasn’t my fault! Wasnmyfault! Wasnmyfault! Wasnmyfault! Wasnmyfault! My-FAULT! My-FAULT! My-FAULT! My-FAULT! FAULT! FAULT! FAULT! FAULT! RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!”

The pulp remains of the monster were being dug several metres into the ground by the ceaseless chopping. The axe blade was the size of a fully grown man, yet Cotazur swung it with such speed that one could mistake him for chopping carrots. Only after a full hour, when the hole was a half kilometre deep and the monster long since had been ground up finer than the sand on the wind, did Cotazur stop chopping. Within a minute, the axe had shrunk down to a simple hatchet. Empty eyes studied the ground, almost searching for the remains of his foe which could not be said to exist anymore. Any and all traces were completely and utterly gone. He was victorious.

A small smile cracked across Cotazur’s red-stained face. A small chuckle escaped him.

“... hehehe…”

He slowly began to ascend from the hole, his laugh intensifying over the coarse of the journey.

“... Ahahahaha…”

He dragged his useless leg behind him like a pulk. He ascended the hill on which the node stood and placed his hand upon it. In that instant, the sands on the wind fell to the ground; the green clouds parted to reveal a glorious sun bathing the land in nourishing light; the black dunes of sand turned to endless green, forested lowlands intermittently interrupted by small hills and cliffs before rising to the sky in the south in the form of colossal white mountains; in the far distance, the raging seas became tranquil shores with long, pearly beaches. In a final hurrah for the tumultuous waters, great fjords carved into the land and mighty rivers flower outwards from the taller inland areas.

Cotazur gazed around the hill of green grass and the forests extending for miles down to the sea and up to the mountains. He ushered a final “hah” before he dropped his axe to the ground and collapsed again.

“I am…” He coughed more blood. “... Flawless.” Then the world blackened again.

The young man burst from the tree line, blood slick on his pale skin, sweat slick on his equally pale long flowing hair, his well toned muscles stringing as he fled. Behind him, the howling of wolves echoed through the woods.

Before him now were wonders that had been hidden by the canopy of the wolf woods. High, high above in the drifted gentle titans, pale blue sky whales sifting through flocks of krill that themselves sifted through columns of ash or descended to nibble on plants that floated through the air currents.



All of this drifted above a web of rivers all pouring down towards a central lake, and in between were rolling plains and shallow hills crested with green, across which herds of dark creatures grazed and were minded by taller things that he could not make heads or tails off. They looked like a bizarre fusion of man and a deer, adrenaline pumped man thought in the moments before the woods rustled behind him, and it became clear that he’d misjudged.

Just because he’d first encountered the wolves in the woods, that did not mean they could not come out. Though he was tired, and he didn't know where he could run too, all he could do was start running and pray. A few moments after he took off a pack of hunters burset from the treeline. Most were the common gray wolf, but at the rear, driving them forwards, came a hulking beast tall as a man, its fur pale and its eyes holding intelligence beyond mere beast, though that did not stop it from hungering for the flesh of man.

Paws and claws ripped up the tall grass as they ran after the man, jaws slathering as the man cursed first his dallying and then almost panicked as there were shouts from the deer humans he had ended up running towards, but with his heart hammering in his ears he had no idea what was shouted. Only when they came racing towards him, and in doing so they became clearer. Covered in fur black as night and armed with spears tipped with wickedly shaped points just as dark they came, and though he feared them in that moment, what else could he do but run headlong towards them and away from the wolves.

Then, suddenly, a howl from the towering packleader caught the ear of the beasts, and as one they ceased to hound him and instead fanned out into a loose formation around their leader, matching the width of the incoming spear-wielder's own charge.

The man had glanced back to see this, and when he looked forwards again the deer people were suddenly upon him and the world dissolved into chaos. Spear and hoof fought tooth and claw until the grass was slick with blood, and then it was all over. The pack-leader fled, sacrificing the last of his pawns to save it’s own life, and leaving the victorious warriors and the man cowering in their midst.

Then the human torso of one of the creatures detached itself from the body of the deer line thing and in that moment of human contact things became clear.

The man wearing clothes made of the dark wool of the goat herds his people tended too approached, using his his obsidian tipped spear for support as he moved away from his horse with a midnight back coat, and asked “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine” the man lied, and then promptly collapsed into the other man’s arms.

---

Several days recovery and an explanation later, and the messenger of Anak'thas found himself in a little boat made of reeds sailing down the rivers to reach the 12th node. At first he passed by mostly natural land, the only humanity he saw living there similar to the goat herders he had met, as well as the odd band of hunters chasing after swift hares.

As they got closer to the node however, small towns started to crop up, mostly made of hide tents surrounding cores of buildings made from stone or wood, and surrounded by farmland where rows of berry bushes, melons and root vegetables sprouted, tended by hard working farmers.

The city around the node was the same as the villages writ large. Farmland surrounded the banks of the grand lake, much of it on the far shore where he was told the soil had been enriched by the tall smoking mountain they passed under the shadow of. While tents could be seen among these farms, the city surrounding the 12th node hosted the largest collection of solid structures in the region, built from stone and wood all floated downstream from queries and wood cutting operations found around somewhere called stone lake. All this arrived via small wooden docks, which the man was let off at and form which he made his way through the city towards his destination.

At the heart of this stood a temple complex made of exquisite marble, surrounded by a rugged and practical Granite wall on all sides. The man, who’s name was Finley, thought it was quite a shame to hide the temple behind the wall like that, though it did mean the effect of its magnificence coming into view all at once upon being welcomed in via the main (never once closed) gateway was quite overwhelming.

The temple was surrounded by a colorful garden containing flowers and plants from all across the region. It was split into two halves, one was artfully arranged and could be traveled by winding paths was for recreation, the other was rigidly organized and was attended to by a group who Finley where told where a mix of apothecaries and cooks who where trying to find uses for all the plants that had been discovered.

The temple itself meanwhile was the largest structure Finley had ever seen, and it continued a myriad of marvels and mundanities both. At its heart sat the node itself, locked away in a defensible core of the facility, while around it where rooms containing treasures, gold and silver trinkets, glistening jewls, the bones of a spinosaurus, great wolf skulls, artfully crafted statues, intricate carvings and more, all on display for visitors to see. Each was a little inscription that he was told explained who had offered the object, some details about it, and what they had gotten in exchange.

Much of what had been given in return for these offerings sounded fantastical, but the horned man guiding him through the complex explained that Xavior had insisted that the objects were mundane, simply made with materials and skills that where presently beyond them. An unbelievable fact, considering what was acquired was often made from a material known as ‘steel’ that made the recently invented copper tools seem as if made of clay by comparison.

More mundane than these wonders were several classrooms where the horned priests of Xavior passed on his node gifted knowledge to those who wished to learn it, who would then go out and spread it far and wide. There were also offices for people called bureaucrats, and a meeting hall for the city's leaders, whom Finley was surprised to find were not selected by their god but instead by the people of the city itself. The god naturally sat at the head of this group, but they were empowered by him to act on behalf, and so it was not there that he ended up meeting Xavior even though they were at that moment in session.

When he did meet the god, Finley found him dressed richly. He wore the finest of black robes sown with silver threads, was adorned with a wolfskin cloak and his hair was decorated with a colorful array of velociraptor feathers. He was also kneeling before a pain looking farmers and in the midst of setting the man’s broken leg.

His hands glowed softly, and the farmer's look of pain vanished in an instant to his look of slight surprise. He began to profusely thank the god, but Xavior waved him off as if it was nothing as he stood and then turned to addressed Finley.

“My apologies for making you wait, today’s healing session took a little longer than anticipated. I do hope you enjoyed the tour in the meantime?” He asked with a smile.

As Finley replied that it was no issue and he had enjoyed it he was led to a nearby meeting room. There, over refreshments, he explained why he was here. He had been sent to deliver a message to Benea by Anak'thas, only to discover that the goddess was not here, and had instead traveled on to another node, though not one that he could receive direct directions to from any he had met. He also feared he would not make the journey on his own, as the travel here had almost claimed his life already.

“I’m very sorry for your altercation with the wolves. They were Benea’s ideas, but seem to have outstripped either of our intentions for them for an unknown reason. Attempts to resolve the problem have proved… bloody” Xavier apologized before asking “Are you at liberty to divulge the nature of this message to me in her stead?”

Finley found little reason not to, and so explained in short Anak'thas’ plan to claim node 14, a thing that had likely already occurred by now. At some prodding he also explained what the god had already created, and his treatment of the human in his charge. As Finley had left just after the node was made, he was light on details, but he did what he could to sate the god’s curiosity.

“Benea will not be pleased. This goes against her plans… not that I am sure she ever communicated them to Anak’thas,” Xavior said thoughtfully while stroking his beard contemplatively, before turning his attention back to Finley.

“Regarding your intent to travel onward to Benea, I can acquire for you an escort, transport and provisions. The latter you will most certainly need, for the node Monica intended to claim has but a single way though, and I do not know what lies on the other side or if there is foraging available along it's rout. On that note, I will provide this aid on a condition: you will discover why the 11th node is in the state that it is, and report it back to me, as well as any other news Benea wishes to convey once you discover her. Is that a fair deal? Should you learn of anything outside those parameters that might also be of use to me, I may grant you a boon for hat knowledge also”

Finley thought that this was a fair deal indeed. They shook on it, and the very next day he and an escort of a half dozen riders (all furnished/paid with a new set divinely gifted recurved composite bow bows and provisioned with food from the city’s collective stores) set out west to deliver Anak’thas’ message.

A day later, another , larger, band set out, this one traveling north to find a safe passage through the wolfwoods bordering nodes 11 and 12. Once through they would to get the lay of the land, make contact with whatever human population Anak’thas had left behind there and to then travel onwards to meet the god himself, so as to gift the god himself with the knowledge of Benea’s coming displeasure with him, as well as to enquire about any other plans he might have, and to request the sharing of their nodes with one another. He also sent a few simple gifts in the form of several horses of both sex, a set of obsidian knives and the seeds with which to grow olive trees as a show of good faith.

Brey was reading what little there was to read in the Great Library. Soon it would not just be a library but a magnificent institution of learning. He sat at the end of a long table.He was not, however, reading as you would expect. He was eating his breakfast, a single fish, and a leg of chicken.

---

Having been roused from his meditative slumber sooner than expected due to a shift in one of the regions neighboring his own, Vatarr had taken the day required in order to cover the distance across his own realm in order to investigate this now somewhat orderly border.

Stepping out from the shade of trees and fungal giants and onto a grassy plane would have been an interesting experience for most mortals, but as Vatarr did so he couldn’t help but take a moment in order to admire the scenery. Of course, while the planes, forests and mountains were all interesting sights in their own rights, what truly drew the gaze was the rather rooftop that seemed to be standing out like a sore thumb in the distance.

Considering a desire to see who his new neighbor might actually be, the deer skulled deity left his realm behind in order to cover the distance offered by this new realm towards what was most likely where its creator resided.

Having traveled at speed for less then a day, the building they had been using as a logical destination was reached… and with a surprising politeness Vatarr raised his hand and knocked on the door.

A man in robes opened the door. Seeing the deer headed deity, he panicked and ran off for Brey.

For their part, Vatarr had just tilted his head down in order to look at the mortal in question before they fled. They hadn’t closed the door… but considering that they were likely fleeing to find their master or mistress for one reason or another, Vatarr decided to wait.

Eventually, in a couple of moments, Brey came to Vatarr’s location. “Oh, it’s you. I haven’t seen you for a little while.”
“Welcome to this Library. What is your business here, Vatarr?” The man wrinkled his face, in curiosity.

As they tilted their head to gaze at the ‘old man’, there was a brief moment as they responded “My name is Vatarr. It has been a little while since we saw each other at… well, the beginning.” Taking a moment to make a show of glancing at the building in question, they added “I like what you’ve done with the place. So much better than the chaotic mess it was before.”

“Thank you, Vatarr. My name would be Brey. This place is all about knowledge. Sadly, you are a god, so you have nothing to learn from it’s scrolls and books. Something tells me you didn’t come here to learn any herbal remedy.”

“You would be correct.” was the simple answer to Brey’s statement. “In part my visit was to see who had decided to claim this region for themselves… to that end I don’t believe you spoke up during that original meeting at Node Eighteen so I don’t know what your name is.” That small confession out of the way with a small scratch of his cheek, Vatarr quickly followed up “I also wished to ask you a question. What is it you want?”

“I’m a teacher of mortals. I wish to elevate them all so they are all a lot closer to us. That’s it.”

“And how, exactly, does this vision of yours play out on the wider stage? If, when the time comes, you’re the only deity remaining and you get to shape the world as you will… What does your ideal world look like?”

“In my world, I would simply be an elevated teacher, rather than a god. All of the people would be more like little gods walking around, teaching others, all become Wisemen and Wisewoman teaching other for eternity.”

“I see existence becoming a cycle of never ending growing and learning.”

Vatarr was silent as they listened… before they held a rather serious tone in their voice when they started to speak. “In my world, the fundamental truth of reality is that there is a cycle. Life will come into this world and spend its time among the living as it deems fit before the end comes and they die. The dead will break down and serve as a source of resources and renewal so that new life can be born. Our visions are compatible… but the old teachers must in time leave the mortal coil so that new ideas can grow.”

“I see. So what exactly are you proposing?” Brey asked with genuine curiosity. “It is the fate of mortals to be born, grow old and die.”

“You wished to make mortals closer to us. Minor deities in their own right. That implies you intended to make them immortal.” Vatarr stated bluntly. “I am not against the prolonging of life… but all life must end at some point. Otherwise it has no meaning.”

“Mortals come with three forms. Their bodies, their minds, and their souls.”
“I am intending to make their souls immortal.”
“Eventually, perhaps some may transcend life in greater ways than this, living outside of space and time.”
“For the masses, I intend for each mortal to have souls that will never fade.”
“Imagine, if you will, mortals that can remember the things of the Spirit World, or, their past lives, in their present life.”

Tilting their head slightly, Vatarr seemed to be lost in thought for a moment. “...I will need to think of this for a time.” He offered at last.

“Well, what else is there? Perhaps you would stay for some honeyed fish?”

There was a polite shaking of Vatarr’s head, with small flakes of antler falling off and floating to the ground. “Thank you for the offer, but at this early stage I should return to my own realm. I wish you fortune in your future endeavors, for you have given me something to ponder going forwards.”

“Before you go, remember to be sure and watch out for those Node Monster things in the future.”

The family life really wasn’t for her, Eleanna thought as she sat at the top of one of the great dunes to the south of the Daman Lands. Sure, playing the part of girlfriend was fun, so was the spontaneous romance and even the jealousy… But she was far grander than all of that. Yeah, she definitely was too important to spend time chasing mortal dreams… Or was she?

She furrowed her brow and looked at one of the tiny skulls that decorated the tip of her spear. Her first kill, the Squirrel. Its empty eye sockets seemed to judge her every decision… So, tired of feeling like she hadn’t spent her time wisely in the last few months, she ripped some fabric off her underclothes and tied it around the tiny skull as an improvised blindfold. Life was difficult enough as it was without being judged by the dead.

She stood up and gazed at the horizon. In the distance, she could start to make out the hints of a change of biome, her great dunes giving way to a more temperate if somewhat mountainous land, a land which she was sure housed many treasures and trophies to be collected. One day, she’d visit it and say hi to the locals. Today, however, was not that day.

She stood up and turned around, regarding her small following of demi-human pilgrims with a nod and a clench of her jaw, prompting them to huff, stomp the sand, and turn towards the modest pyramid just a few paces behind them. There were offerings on each of the fifty-six steps, and the offerings ranged from fruit and vegetables all the way to hand-crafted weapons, emblems or idols.

It was one of Eleanna’s duties as the Bronzed Bloom, that of choosing whether to acknowledge her Seekers’ struggles or to disavow their goals.

And so Eleanna walked up to the first of the fifty-six steps of the Sanctuary.

Carrots. Freshly harvested. Lumpy, dirty, but with a colour only matched by the redtails to the west. A short and stocky man approached Eleanna. His cloak almost concealed the fact that he was hunched over and trembling. Almost.

“Leaf-Talker, your carrots are full of nutrients. The colour on them is unmatched. Your goal?”

The short man nodded, standing just a little bit straight so that the cloak no longer concealed his long, scaled muzzle full of sharp teeth. “T-To grow the best vegetables in the Daman Lands, B-Bronzed Bloom.”

“Are these the best vegetables in the Lands, Leaf-Talker?”

“N-No, Bronzed Bloom. They need to be more appealing.”

“Good. Keep working on your craft.”

The man let out a breath he had been holding and withdrew back into the crowd.

Eleanna then moved to the second step, where a curious little rodent sat rather patiently. It had beady little eyes and an orange and white coat of fur. It seemed to shrink a little as it saw the squirrel skull tied to her spear but a large man, taller than Eleanna by at least a full head (which was impressive, considering Eleanna was taller than every mortal she’d met before), walked up just in time to prevent the rodent from running away. Instead, it scampered over to the man and climbed onto his shoulder.

“A tame beast.” Eleanna said slowly, never taking her eyes off the rodent.

“Excuse me, Bronzed Bloom. Not just any beast, but a were-human. C’mon Chip, speak.” The man cooed to the rodent.

“bronze”

The man beamed at Eleanna with such intensity that she couldn’t help but smile back. “You’ve tamed a were-human. How? Tell me your name.”

“Were-Taker… And that’s a secret of the trade, Bronzed Bloom.” He explained, nodding his head apologetically.

“Your goal?”

“To become the most famous beast-tamer in the Daman Lands, Bronzed Bloom.”

“And how do you intend to do that, Were-Taker?”

“I need to do something new… Something that will definitely catch everyone’s attention! I’ve been working on taming bigger were-humans, so I’m feeling confident.”

Eleanna raised a bushy eyebrow. “Bigger were-humans? Good. Stay until the ritual is done, we need to talk about your first test.”

Were-Taker nodded and stepped back into the crowd, and so Eleanna moved to the third step…

It had been a long while since Dzallitsunya had met any other god, she knew they were nearby, she had seen Monica’s group getting ready when she left and one more god at least had settled nearby. Between the preparations of exotic dresses for the marriage festival, her worries in shaping the local culture and her immediate focus on the lands north and the beast that resided there, she had truly slacked on keeping an eye on the borders of her land.

It was a bit shocking but not fully unexpected when she finally started to get weird reports from the tribe’s hunters and scouts, from foreign humans to a lone figure walking alone in the plains, it was not hard to guess that a god had entered her lands.

And it was best to meet them head on, bringing gifts of course, to try to bring forth a more amicable and stable relationship between the lands. Gemstones, including amber and river pearls, leather accessories and finely crafted dresses, obsidian from the mountains and one shawl made from Tsillo, a type of high in plascisty semi-transparent textile made from refined algae found only in the sulfuric ponds near the volcano. The goddess wanted to bring the local woodwork and ceramics but those would not fit neatly into a bundle without breaking.

Due to its roughness and sharp elevation differences, travel across Node 7 was predictable, the goddess easily guessed the foreign deity would be very close to the volcano by now, nearing the western passage from the highland to the swamps. It was there Dzallitsunya would gently intercept them.

At the heights of the night, the air started to whistle all around, past the jungles, up the rock outcrops and cliffsides, and then finally, landing by… what's her name’s side. Standing there, cape fluttering, a trail of dust she raised spreading further and further, the goddess had the terrible realization she had no idea what Benea’s name was, assuming it was her fault, she blushed, undoing any setup of a cool image her arrival might have given.

”Greetings… It is truly nice to see you again. Welcome to the Dusklands, I hope these lands have been gentle to you so far.” Dzallitsunya bowed slightly, spreading one side of the Shadow Petal with her right hand.

Looking up, Dzallitsunya realized she had miscounted or at least something had moved in between her and Benea. A shield made of pitch lacquered wood stood between her and the calla lily goddess. A gentle chuckle rose from behind it.

“Oh Jermane, that’s quite alright. This happens to be that friend of mine I was just talking about.”

The shield lowered to reveal a burly man with a face as gentle as broken stone. He cast his eyes away from Dzallitsunya respectfully. “Yes, my lady.”

Stepping out of the way, he revealed Benea. She stood with ten other retainers circled around her — happily in the center with a gentle smile and her hands clasped at her waist. Benea’s eyes perked as they met the dusk goddess’. “Oh my, it has been quite some time hasn’t it, dear?”

”Indeed. Is everyone else in Monica’s group doing well?” the pale goddess approached, squeezing the gift bundle tightly, the sound of metal and glass clinking together echoing around the quiet flat fields. ”Oh. There is a campsite nearby, perhaps it would be more suitable for your mortals? These lands do get a bit cold and damp at times…”

“A fine offer dearest Dzallitsunya,” Benea stepped forward and placed a hand on the goddess’ shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “Perhaps we should all find a nice warm place to sit and chat? I’d love to fill you in on all the happenings and plans.”

The dusk goddess was somewhat startled by the forwardness and touching, not annoyed but just not used to it either, she stepped back sliding off the touch and nodded, pointing off to a place down the cliffs. ”I will guide you then.”

The journey was short, soon they were in a middle spot of the climb downward to the swamp, the copses of trees already overshadowing the rocky path, the camp was once a niche in the rocks, carved into a proper shelter. In the typical fashion of the dusklanders, everything was well organized, logs were set up in dry containers for use in the fire pit, nicely decorated clay jars were set from newest to oldest with markings of the moon phase and season in which the jar was sealed and the leather mats for sleeping were all stored in closed off crevice as to avoid spiders or worse sneaking in, in a mere minute, the dusk goddess and Benea’s entourage had set up a comfortable cliffside camp.

It was then, right by the fire, that the goddess opened her bundle of gifts and smiled. ”A little welcome gift for you. A sample of these land’s riches.” she announced.

“Oh how wonderful!” Benea picked the shawl up and studied it before eyeing the amber. A sudden frown. “How silly of me not to have brought you anything in return.”

Dzallitsunya smiled at the shawl being the first one picked, Croll had gone the distance to make that material possible, he would be happy to know it was marketable, though the goddess far preferred it as a local material to unify the culture. At Benea’s comment she shook her head. ”From my understanding, the lands nearby were settled later than mine, maybe I was lucky when traveling. Nevertheless, what I mean is that I understand, it took me a long time to set up these gifts, I am sure soon enough all of the nodes will be engaging in unique crafts and working the riches of the land as well.” she said with full unjustified optimism.

She looked over Benea’s humans and then back at the goddess. ”Since the humans are settled and safe now, I wanted to ask if you’d like to follow me to the node temple. I have… spent some effort on it, and I would love to get the opinion of another god.” she poked her index fingers together. ”With mortals it would take a long time, but two goddesses should be able to make it to there quite quickly.” she added, making clear that it was an invitation for her only, not her group.

Benea idled for a moment, a soft smile on her lips as she placed the shawl over her head, her dress changing to the same bright red as the material of the shawl. Satisfied, the goddess looked at Tsunya with consideration. Tilting her head she answered. “My dear, you wouldn’t be opposed to my gentle Jermane joining us?” The man was standing next to the sitting Benea, his face one of contemplation as Benea asked her question.

Dzallitsunya smiled back, twirling her silver coloured hair now, avoiding eye contact. ”Oh no no, absolutely not. I guess we could take the longer route. We will cross the main city of the node, I hope that is not an issue. Then, well, there will be a very… vertical path up. Though if anyone struggles with it, I can carry them up.”

“Oh good!” Benea stood up, excitement reflecting off her chamomile eyes. “Think of it darling, we get a better chance at soaking in what beauty you’ve created on our way. Wonderful idea.”

---

One would think the path across a swamp would be slower than the open flatlands, but being the core of the civilization, many options of travel soon showed themselves, from bridges and roads to finally fishing boats, the fisherman not having the best of times as he overextended himself trying to oar as fast as he could, fearing disappointing the two goddess, who were more busy appreciating the lush verdant views of the jungle and the swarms of fireflies that fluttered by.

Soon they were by the central village, it did not really have a name yet, there were many rivers and mountains to warrant those being named, but saying ‘the city’ or ‘the crossing’ or ‘the port’ could only possibly refer to this. The core of the village was a set of stone platforms, like artificial islands, surrounded by outer layers of houses and plazas in wooden silts and raised mounds. The air was filled with the smell of fish stewing on spices and the loud chatter of the crowd and the sound of stone hammers and chisels working on the buildings, both would stop as soon as the people started to notice Dzallitsunya arriving with complete strangers upon the dock.

”Would you like to stay a moment to rest? I have a friend here that makes a delicious fire tea.” the goddess proposed to the two as she led them from the boat to the main plaza. Clearly, some sort of event was being prepared in this area, it had been emptied out and a nearby building had a sizeable stock of wooden poles, thick colorful fabrics and sets of outfits with capes and shawls like the one gifted to Benea as well as jewelry made of volcanic glass and beads.

“Fire tea?” Benea cocked a brow. “That certainly sounds unique, I’d love to try some, but does your schedule allow it? I don’t know how urgently you wanted to show me the work you have done to your node.”

While Benea talked, Jermane was looking around — returning confused stares with an intense squint. He didn’t look mean, but he did look scary, if just naturally. This along with the nature of a new goddess appearing forced a wide berth to be given to the trio as they walked by.

Benea put her hands on her hips. “And I must admit, I have so much to tell you as well.”

The goddess shook her head. ”It is fine. If we tried to take the tea to the temple it would get cold and stale before we arrived.” she placed her hands behind her back and hummed, advancing towards the retreating crowd, right to the house which had the stock of dresses. ”Kadja. Hello. I brought a visit if you don’t mind.”

Soon an aged woman, streaks of gray on her black hair, appeared, holding a confused glance at the trio within her doorstep. “O… oh. Hello my goddess. I take… these two are not here to receive dresses for the marriage festival.” she laughed to herself. “Though it would be quite an experience to make a fancy dress for the lad.”

Missing the joke, Dzallitsunya shook her head. ”Oh no no, she is a god like me and he is her guardian.” she answered sincerely causing the seamstress to roll her eyes, the goddess then seized her hand and held it between her own. ”I know it might be a bit rude, but I am in need of a place to lounge and converse with my friend. Could I use the central yard of your home? A… Also, if possible, could you make us some fire tea? Oh… and maybe those coconut chips?”

The woman laughed at the goddess, using her free hand to pat her on the head. “Sure thing your holiness, seems like someone is trying to make a good first impression, I am glad you think my little table and chairs are up to the standards of divine rears.”

As the human left, the goddess turned to Benea. ”Well, come on then! The central garden is fully walled all around, surrounded by the shop and home. We can have some privacy on it to talk as we please..” Dzallitsunya led the path forward, sitting on the fur padded wooden chair and setting aside two more around the stone table.

Benea kept a polite smile as she walked through Kadja’s home and out to the central gardens. There she took in the quant flora that hugged the perimeter of the small but cozy space before retiring into one of the fur-lined seats. She sat upright, almost like a statue.

“Why don’t you take a seat as well, Jermane?” Benea said to the still standing man. He tilted his head forward before settling into one of the chairs — knees popping. Benea gave a small shift as if settling deeper in the chair, yet kept her regal posture. “What a lovely little home this is. The people of your city surely have done well for themselves, darling. Surely due to your guidance.” Benea paused, but not long enough for anyone to get a word in. “See, I knew the moment I saw you in the valley of 18 that you were smart and of level head. It would seem I was right.”

The goddess smiled at the compliment but then let out a somewhat tired sigh. ”Thank you. Humans… are beautiful, but erratic. I cannot lie, I feel lethargic compared to them, by the time I form one idea, they move on to a thousand others, darting about like the dragonflies over the pond. So far I have had success in ignoring the minute movements of each dragonfly, and focusing on the flow of the swarm, guiding them with greater and gentler movements, not commanding each one. Though… Humans are more passionate than insects, therefore, also more foolish. So far the movements are ~smooth, they follow patterns, but when things go awry… I fear the chaos that could come.” the goddess straight up confessed to Benea, before silencing herself as Kadja brought forth three bowls full of steaming tea before once again leaving.

Ginger and other roots along with herbs that made for a spicy mixture, that was the recipe of fire tea, it felt like it burned the mouth and brought a relaxing warmness and numbness to the body. ”Ah. How nice, Kadja never fails this recipe... I am sorry. I feel like I have been talking so much. It is just that… with no other gods around, these thoughts had nowhere to go but to echo around in mind.” she cleared her throat. ”So. How have things gone for your group? I felt the nodes being tamed but never had the time to check on them myself.”

“Oh you know…” Benea droned before taking a sip of her tea. At first she made a face, as if completely taken off guard by the taste, but then offered a polite smile above her cup. “To be more frank, darling, things have been rather wonky on my end as well but I hope to tighten it all up soon. To sort of explain what I mean…” Benea put her cup down on the table and leaned forward ever so slightly. “Xavior successfully took node 12 and turned it into a lush paradise as planned, and I took node 6 to do the same. We’ve agreed to share our nodes as a foundation for a growing alliance of order and commonwealth and well being. Monica agreed to this as well and for her part, she did it when she took node 11…”

Benea’s face turned into a shallow frown, as if she was being physically hurt. “However, I’m troubled by what I saw in node 11. Monica, you see, created a land that quite frankly would kill your average human. It puts me in doubt about her will and what might be lurking underneath — for as you know the nodes react to your truest will, even against your wishes at times. I am not defaming my sweet Monica, but I wonder if her will is strong enough to continue the use of the nodes.” Shaking her head and hiding her mouth behind another sip of tea, Benea nodded for Dzallitsunya to speak. Jermane himself softly slurped at his tea while his eyes flickering around the garden, harsh sips filling the silence.

The dusk goddess nodded, she rubbed her chin as Benea’s speech turned more serious and found herself with one key question. ”What was her side of the incident? Did she comment on it?” and then, in a bit more of a coy tone, she continued. ”And, uhm, if it's not prying too much, what is the nature of the trouble in node 11?”

Benea let loose a resigned sigh and leaned back in her chair (taking her tea along with her). Pulling one arm over her stomach to rest and crossing her legs, she contemplated her words over another sip of tea. Finally she said, "well that's the worst part of all, dear. You see I was exhausted from battle and weathering the chaos of instability when I asked her to go ahead and capture the node (in order to save the lives of the people entrusting us). She did that part quite well but actually ran straight into the node and injured herself. The realm was freezing cold and quickly sapping the people of life, so first I spent my remaining strength constructing a way to keep them alive and by time I found enough power to send guiding lights to find our Monica, she sent them back to me through will, not wanting to be found. So I have little on her side of things, and it's absolutely chewing me up inside." Another sip. "Excuse me, of course."

Dzallitsunya readjusted herself against the primitive chair. ”Such… an unusual realm. When I created this node, I felt my power growing so much, but I also felt my limits very well, it was easier to slide with what the land offered than to make something radically different.. It is not that simple, I assume at least, to create a land of such strong magical capabilities. So at minimum, this does say something about Monica’s abilities.” there was no more tea to sip for the dusk goddess, so she just readjusted herself again. ”Which I imagine is relevant when, uhm, her willpower is put in question, right? Now, we can only speculate, but in my opinion, it's best if such a power has something to focus on, rather than being cut too loose and left aimless.”

She sighed and tilted her head. ”On that topic, I would be more than glad to help as I can, if a land path is necessary between your node and Xavior’s I can offer a route across my land, though I would need some time to survey it, as it would need to cross more than a few mountain chains.”

“Well hopefully the road I put in 11 will hold, it may need some maintenance but at the very least I appreciate and accept your offer, sweet Tsunya.” Benea held her empty tea cup out and Jermane took it from her. The goddess shifted in her seat, now accounting for both arms as she sank into the furs. “Either way, the time has come to talk of other things. You see, we have an order to build still, do we not? Look how well we are working together, it’s marvelous. I would adore it if we could use your region to house a meeting of gods all willing to come together formally. I wager I already have Monica and Xavior pinned and ready, now I just need to reach out to Anak’thas and we will have a good team of founding members.” Benea smiled at Dzallitsunya, her eyes crinkling with bliss from the grin. “Isn’t that just delightful, dear?”

”Oh!” the goddess gasped, then cleared her throat to clean the sudden glee in her face. ”Well. I do have a little spot in my node area, as I said, a temple. By pure coincidence I had prepared a room for meetings in it. Why don’t we go see it, and you can tell if it will fit your plans? I do approve of more integration and cooperation between gods so if I could help, I would be glad to.”
“You see?” Benea sat upright — if not leaning slightly forward so her gaze bled right into Dzallitsunya’s — “This is exactly why I thought to go to you, darling.”

---

With the help of the shadow petal, the path up the volcano was as easy to the goddess as a game of hopscotch, even when she was carrying a man larger than her. ”Here we are.” Dzallitsunya said, as she set Jermane down by the entrance of the lunar palace, a bronze blush on his face. ”Come, I will show the room to you.” she added, leading the path forward for the two visitors, into the lava lit halls, up to the gardens.

“Oh please do,” Benea answered as she trailed behind Dzallitsunya. Jermane in turn followed the dragging hem of Benea’s dress, his shield held close to his body.

The meeting hall was up a spiral staircase in the central node room, its glass walls and marble furniture was lit by the illusory image of the crucible as if seen high from the sky, most nodes visible, all made to look pleasant, even the ever-dark of Monica’s node. ”So. Will this suit you… my friend?” the dusk goddess questioned, smiling to her fellow deity, stuttering a bit as she still did not know what her name was even after all of this traveling together.

Benea stepped forward with her hands behind her back as she watched the illusionary view of the crucible, a gentle smile on her face. A moment of contemplation went by before Benea gave the illusion a curt nod and turned to Dzallitsunya. “I expected nothing less, Dzallitsunya. We will mark the start of the orderly alliance here.”

Dzallitsunya bowed, stretching her cape. ”Let’s guarantee a gentle future for the crucible.” she summoned forth a sheet of silver, placing it at the middle of the table. ”If you don’t mind, I would like to mark this occasion by having us sign our names down upon this.” she smirked.

Benea gave Dzallitsunya a knowing glance before curling a grin. Tapping her finger to the sheet, Benea’s name was carved into the metal.

---

She awoke from her horrors that haunted her in her dreams, and found herself in a new nightmare where fathomless shadows shrouded all, there was nothing except her broken body surrounded by shifting shadows whispering into her ears and creeping upon her skin. She could not flee, wracked with agony when she attempted to move even slightly. Every breath she drew was excruciating, and cold enough it seemed to choke her with ice coalescing in her throat. She felt as though she were sinking into the depths of darkness, where the chilling embrace of death awaited her.

Undulating pressure built upon her, the swarm of shadows nudging her into an upright position as though they were solid enough to support her. She could hear hissing, humming, and buzzing, but she could not see the sources of these eerie sounds which came from everywhere all at once. There was no shape or form to the world around her, yet the darkness distorted itself, and personified itself. It was curious and cunning, creeping forth as it seeped into the mind, strangling and suffocating thoughts, then smuggling such outside the shelter of the self. Monica could feel the slow shattering of her sanity, sundered and divided amongst the unseen.

The darkness became more and more languid as it devoured her, a sluggish gluttony that she could not fight against as frosty pain mingled with senseless fear caused her to ceaselessly spasm and shiver. There was no light, it seemed. There was no way to witness the passage of time, and so it felt like an eternity of torture, blind and alone in this dark and desolate realm that was the result of her efforts towards saving those she loved. Not knowing whether she had succeeded in her endeavor inflicted the most devastating damage to her heart, more brutal than being lost in darkness and torn apart. Monica cried, as more and more of her shape became blackened and she sensed the terrifying presence of something looming over her.

The clamor quieted, the hissing and buzzing all around hurried away, the horde of dissonant whispers abated by the immense dreadful aura that had now arrived. Monica awaited with held breath, attempting to discern what was happening through her hearing: Discrete clicks and clacks of numerous small skeletal feet scuttling about upon stone. The freezing air seemed to crack and hiss as an unseen vapor coalesced into ice only to break into tiny fragments upon becoming too large to sustain itself. Far away was the continual sound of rushing water, splashing against stone and crashing down ravines and along rivers. Unfortunately the colossus lingering close to her had become silent and still, undetectable to all of her senses.

Then she heard a voice, soft and soothing, as she was cradled in the gentle grasp of a giant creature, and carried away. She could not see that which held her, lifting her higher and higher until it came to a halt again, but she could feel its strength and sensed a connection to it as it murmured to her that she was found, and no longer alone. Together they traversed the umbral realm, through the oppressive darkness and hungry shadows, swift and silent like a specter in the night. Monica was aware they were traveling towards the node she had touched, the conduit of immense divine power that allowed a deity to shape and alter the land.

Upon reaching the location of the node, Monica saw the path of light that passed through the node itself, made of shimmering stones that were becoming stained with specks of black. It was evident that Benea had come through this way, surviving the encounter with the monstrosity and the following journey afterward, and though Monica could not discern which way Benea had gone, the sight of the luminous road brought forth an incredible amount of relief to her knowing now that her companion lived. Certain that Benea would return to find her, Monica thought it would be wisest to simply wait for either Benea, Xavior, or another to eventually appear and inform her of the most recent happenings in the world.

The giant ghost laid her upon the node itself, letting Monica see the silhouette of its hand. Tenderly placed down, Monica noticed that the parts of her body that had been consumed by shadows were regurgitated when the hand retracted, as if she were shedding a black layer to reveal her previous self underneath, whole and not molested, only harmed through her own foolish incident. She did not know how much time had passed, but her body had begun healing, her wings and arms mending themselves slowly but surely, and all throughout that time the unseen colossus remained nearby. They had spoken more, but both of them were rather reticent, and little was said. Monica had introduced herself, and expressed her gratitude. The colossus had introduced itself as The Shepherd of Shadows, and then it sang a sorrowful song that had lulled her into a peaceful slumber.

Brey


It was time for the Wizard God to live up to his name. Brey knew the people were eager to learn. There was enough food stored and enough time for some people to devote their selves towards the study of magic. Brey carefully crafted spell books, and directly taught some would be mages the arts, or perhaps you could call it the craft, or even science of magic.

"Arthur, the magic in this book teaches how to manipulate and conjure fire. You can learn how to light candles a flame, how to extinguish fire before it engulfs you, and even how to cauterize wounds with a wave of the hand."

"Sheila, this magic is the magic of healing. You can mend terrible wounds, cure diseases, and learn the secrets of longevity spells."

"Lastly, Oscar, there's you for today. The magics of enchantment, including illusions, mental compulsions and how to empower weapons to be sharper, stronger, etcetera."

"All of you will be learning alchemy, in addition to this."

"Class begins after First Meal of the day. You have two hours to get to your classes before they begin after First Meal."

Brey thought of his decision to teach magic. What else could he do, for now? He needed to serve his purpose as a Sage, live up to his reputation, and more importantly, to make sure his people survive the incoming conflicts among the gods. The only way he could see that happening for now was through the knowledge of magic. Soon, well, soon-ish, the people could work together so that his people would be the most prosperous of all the god's folk.

The Prelude to Dzallitsunya III

A sword fell to the ground and met another one, their blades fusing in the ripples of the thin layer of water against salt. All around the Node there was nothing but this great natural mirror and the many blades used to slay the monster that acted as its guardian.

This was not the first time Dzallitsunya had met a monster, she had met another, in the north of her province.

In there lived a giant chameleon-like creature with copper-like scales, a crafty creature which had successfully gatekept the twilit goddess from the ocean, forcing her to return time after time to the Twilight Swamp with nothing to show but a collection of wounds. Ultimately she gave up, not for a lack of courage, but from the fact her humans tended to overreact to the idea something out there could hurt a god.

This second creature, which took a shape of something close to a bull, made for much easier combat. The creature was simpler, in body and mind, and with Benea's help the goddess had been able to easily manage it. Her style was obviously to dart around the 'prey' at high speed, and deliver sudden swings at a high velocity. The idea was sound but her weapons were lacking, initially, she used stone axes, spears, but those broke too soon, now she had been conjuring simple metal blades, but they had been too heavy, too blunt, even when she struck a perfect cut her momentum would be so great that the sword would slip from her hand, launched off all across the battlefield, forcing her to summon another sword.

In total, about eight swords stood around the pillar, each standing up, their tips planted firmly against the salt flats of this new land. With a sigh, the goddess went and picked one of them and looked around to see the shape of this new land.

The Mirror Marches, as she came to call it. Directly to the East of the Twilight Swamp, the 8th Node. Benea had inspired, perhaps even commanded, her to take it, that goddess' gentle words melting away any sort of doubt Dzallitsunya had. At first, immediately after the battle, after Benea left and she was left alone to her thoughts, she had felt unsure, it had dawned on her that she did not truly have a drive or reason to claim land yet.

Then she touched the Node pillar, and everything felt right.



The whole area was a highland, growing higher and colder the further north one went.

The central area was a dry and cold desert. Salt flats spread out like mantles of white in many areas, normally this gave the land an even more desolate look, but when the snow from the north fell down as rain, a thin layer of water formed over the salt, making the land into a massive natural mirror that spread from horizon to horizon. The node was on a small island in the middle of a central salt flat, and this one was always in a mirror-like state.

These were however not the only reason for the land's name, northwards was the realm of snow and tundra. Deep lakes with their surface frozen up existed on the cold plateau, with peculiar animals swimming underneath the ice. In other areas, crystalline growths spurred from the land in pastel colours, one's face reflected in the pure and cold geodes.

The lands south were far less fantastical but far more liveable. Rolling hills of green, a dry-ish air but a land that was nourished by the sand and ice from the higher regions. Cypress trees were spread all over and groves and small forests existed, but it was mostly a land of bushes and flowers. Of note, was that this green land was more connected not to Dzallitsunya's Node 7, but a node of an unknown god south of it. It did not feel usual, but the dusk goddess did not worry, Benea seemed familiar with that god and had promised peace between the whole council of gods. And she had no reason not to trust Benea.

No unnatural fog kept this land in eternal shadows, but, the goddess' bias still showed, and it had only gotten stronger. Sunrises dragged longer, the horizon seemed to peek up just a bit, even without mountains, just so the sunset happened early and left most of the afternoon to the afterglow, and the sun was always dimmer, especially when near the horizon, while the moon and the stars shone brighter.

Little adventure East finished, it was time to return to the true core of her rule. But, to mark his new land, to consolidate the realms of the twilight, she decided to make a structure at the border between Node 7 and Node 8. It also served some purpose for the mortals that would one day come to cross the snowy mountain passage with frequency, as it was a warm, sheltered spot to rest and ideal to hold supplies for a long time. She could even imagine government officials and traders living there permanently, keeping the road in safe for all, and firmly under control.

Sweat and cinders on red skin. The heat of the forge. Gifted (and repaid) wisdom drawn from a good woman’s black mark on the world.

In a cluttered workshop surrounding the 12th node, Xavior drew knowledge from the unearthly monolith and forged it into reality with his own two hands. Tool, weapons, armor and more forged from new alloys littered the room, as did other inventions, notably several contraptions with wheels, a set of kites, an umbrella, several types of rope and a bucket full of scented soaps which the god was very much looking forward to using after this hot and sweaty work.

While to the mortals outside would marvel at the innovations that had been piled up over mere hours of divine labor, it was the last and seeming smallest of innovations that Xavior was most proud of.

A small unassuming disk of metal cooling on a stone anvil as the god watched. He waited for just the right moment, before he grabbed it, flicked it up in the air and then caught it on his palm, before lifting a divine seal and stamping the metal with an image of a stylized bust of the god, then flipping it again and stamping the other side and emblazoning it with a rearing goat.

Xavier set down the stamp, and raised his handiwork to the light to examine it

It was a small thing, a simple bronze disk, marked with iconography and empowered with the tiniest mote of his divine essence to prove its authenticity.

It was a simple bronze coin.

And it would change the world.

---

Money. It didn’t make the world go around, but it did grease its (newly invented) wheels. One of the problems Xavior and his council had been having was that promises and prepayment were all well and good for local commerce, but it was tricky to get people to go out and do things they needed done when most of the wealth and resources of their burgeoning city state was consolidated in, well, the city.

Getting people to go out to do things for the city long term was tricky, and if they did it was hard to keep track of what they were owed for their time. And they needed long term outsiders who were still bound to the city. At a basic resource level they needed stone and metals to be mined, they needed wood to be cut, and they needed the wolves that threatened those operations hunted. It needed to trade with the only loosely affiliated nomads wandering the planes with their goats, for fur and meat, and with villages for their crops.

And that was just what was needed to keep them going, to expand at home. Already eyes were turning further afield and worrying about what they could not see beyond the wolf woods. Everyone at this point knew the rules of the game of gods, but none knew the present state of the board, or that much about the players other than those they had traveled in the company of.

Who knew what they were up to out there?

Both Xavior and his council wanted information out of a mix of healthy paranoia and curiosity. So they wanted to send out scouts. Which had had the same problem as their logistical one, at least until now.

Money. It was easy to ship out, the ability to hold it in your hand was more reliable than mere words, even those of a god, and it was more flexible than barter. Make a deal for money and you could then use it to buy what you wanted when you wanted it, rather than rely on whatever your employer gave you or being paid in goods that rapidly lost their value due to technological advancement.

It could pay miners, warriors, woodcutters and it could also pay people to take part in expeditions beyond the 12th realm. Forward camps could be set up, goods and money could be shipped there and then distributed to pay scouts to go out into the world, find out what was there, and bring the word of Xavior and the 12th realm with them via signed and stamped decrees that made assurances that that was who they represented. They found routes and paths, sniffed out resources, documented flora and fauna, made crude maps, met with people in-order to gossip with them to try and find out what was going on with their local gods Then they came back to camps and got paid for their efforts.

They learned the state of the world and sent a steady trickle of it back to the city. They also unintentionally sent a trickle of people back too, some were lured by stories of plentiful food, others coveted the more advanced belongings of the explorers and yet more simply thought their luck might be better someplace new. They drifted into the realm via the growing settlement on the shore of stone lake, and so the 12th realm grew even as it learned.

Anak’thas was not at Node 13. In his place was a burgeoning city, orderly designed around a circular but bare center where the Node stone itself was. A man who introduced himself as Perfek Tilus Tilum’Velik explained that the god, after taking the neighboring node, had returned to oversee the rise of Tilum’Velik but has since returned east to oversee the preparation for his expansion towards Node 14. He suggested that the goddess would follow the Silver Road eastwards to reach him. The Silver Road started stone-paved but soon became little more than a hardened, dirt road.

The lantern-god was not at the small city growing around the second node either. There Benea was informed he was further east still. So after ten long days since she reached the first city, Benea found Anak’thas.

He was standing in an open field bordering the next node to the east. The chaotic wasteland took the appearance of a smoke-choked hellscape. There was a storage pile of quarried and shaped stone next to the road, ready to be used. Laborers were already digging out the ground for the paved road. Tents were standing everywhere around to accommodate for the many mortals. At the center of the camp was Anak’thas, bend over table with on it a clay representation of an area that didn’t exist yet. He was discussing things with several mortals around him who were listening intently. All around the table more mortals were buzzing about like bees.

Benea took a step forward (and out from the circle of paladins that accompanied her), her eyes flickering away from the activity and towards Anak’thas. She clasped her hands by her waist. Her dress was still as blood red as the day she visited Dzallitsunya and her shawl shaded her gentle face from the sun above. A smile curled on her lips. “My my, you’ve been a busy little bee, haven’t you, dear?”

The Lantern-God looked up from the table, as did all the other mortals. “Benea!” Anak’thas said as his mote lit up a bit brighter. he then looked around. There was a dreadful absence of any amenities worth of a divine here. The whole place looked more like a labor camp. “You’ve caught me at a disadvantage.” He followed up with a small smile. “I’d have a feast prepared but out here… well the Veléx will probably not score a bounty worthy of your grace here.” He did a motion with his hand. Servants came from the tents carrying a clay jug and cups. “At least we could enjoy a drink. Wine, of my own making. The mortals can make it as well but it takes time and sadly, that is not a thing we’ve had so far.” The servants filled each cup with the purplish liquid, then offered both divines a cup. Anak’thas took his and sipped from it. It had a deliciously aged taste. “So what brings you here, dear sister?”

Taking the cup into her fingers, Benea gave the mortal an inquisitive look before turning back to Anak’thas. “Why, because I said I would!” She glittered a small smile. “I have made the preparations in the west and the foundation for an orderly alliance has been laid. Figuring it would be appreciated, I thought to myself that I would personally go and invite you to the first summit. Isn’t that wonderful, dear?”

“A most gracious gesture. It is well appreciated.” Anak’thas said, returning the smile before sipping from the cup. But then he swirled the wine in the cup a few times as he pondered upon the movement of the liquid. “I do hope this summit is not soon. There are more urgent matters to tend to before I could leave here. As you can see, we really are in the middle of something.” With his free hand, he motioned at the clay sculpted land on the table and then towards the stacks of chiseled stone further away.

Benea handed her cup to Jermane and stepped closer to Anak’thas. She pinched her chin as she approached and only stopped to reach out and touch Anak’thas’ shoulder, as if inviting him to lean in. The Lantern-God did not hide his frown but did as she bid him.

Bringing her voice to a low whisper, Benea sent her words to Anak’thas. “Unfortunately my dear, the summit is to be called soon. A lot has happened since we last saw each other and I absolutely need you there. This will define the crucible and the triggering event. We have to set the foundation for the future because without a blueprint, order will not prevail. I need you there, dear, you understand I know you do.”

Anak’thas let the words roil in his mind. For a solid minute he pondered the gravity of them. His eye-like-mote darted from Benea to the clay on the table and then back to Benea. Eventually he stood up straight again. He turned and headed for his tent. “Leave us.” He ordered the humans, and every single one obeyed with no objection. With one hand he opened the tent, while with the other he invited Benea in. “I think we should speak more plainly.”

“Oh my,” Benea gave Anak’thas a funny look before turning it into a smile. With little else she made her way through the tent-flap, Jermane trailing behind her. He was stopped by the Lantern-God though. “You are a faithful servant. I can see that. But you cannot be privy to the words spoken here.”

Jermane kept a neutral face but looked over at Benea who gave a polite curl of a smile. “That’s quite alright, Jermane. Please stand over the entrance with the others — keep Renault in line.”

The Shield of Benea gave a low bow before turning his back to the tent and placing his mighty shield on the ground with a shaking thud, propping it against his legs and waist. The other paladins quickly joined him in the duty of sentry.

“Shall we, dear?” Benea said to Anak’thas before dipping back into the tent.

Jermane? Renault? The use of names visibly confused Anak’thas for a moment. Though he didn’t push the matter further. He just gave a nod to Benea as he let the flap of the tent fall. The heavy wool would surely obscure all of the noise inside. “I cannot leave now.” Anak’thas said immediately.

Benea stood in the darkness of the tent with her arms crossed as she tapped her foot. She studied the glowing Anak’thas for a moment before shaking her head with the slightest grin. “Sweet Anak’thas, why don’t you tell me why so we can hash out a solution?”

“Because I have a realm to expand.” Anak’thas said in a matter-of-fact way. “In fact, I am literally about to sally forth to claim the next node. All the preparations by the mortals have been made. They know that in two days' time they must commence the continuation of the Silver Road. I cannot leave.”

“Oh darling,” Benea shook her head. “That’s easily enough to accommodate! Why don’t you go ahead and claim the node and then you can come back with me to view the summit. I don’t think I need to remind you how delicate the world is right now, don’t I dear? Everything is threatening to fall apart at a breeze’s tickle, but we can certainly expand the realm before dealing with it.”

Benea looked up at the ceiling of the tent and pushed a white smile through a tiny chuckle. “It will be interesting to see how someone else makes a road, I suppose.”

“All the more reason why we should act before we talk.” Noted Anak’thas. “What would we even discuss at this summit? The shape of the world? I have talked only once with my siblings but it’s clear that their views diverge. We should talk when we have the luxury of time and as long as chaos reigns in parts of this world, we don’t have that luxury.”

“Forgive me sweet Anak’thas, I was unaware you had already discarded the idea of an orderly alliance.” Benea looked around for a moment before spotting a rickety wooden chair. With a polite smile she sat on it with an impossibly straight posture and grinned up at Anak’thas. “I suppose I took your words at Peninal’s grave too closely to heart, or maybe you only recently fell off the idea.”

“You seem to misunderstand, dear sister.” Anak’thas said as he remained standing. “I am as dedicated to an orderly world as you are.” More even, he though. For he wasn’t about to waste his own time with useless summits that would consume weeks of valuable time. “If this summit is as important as you say it is I can send someone who will speak with my voice. Would that satisfy you?”

“Dear…” Benea pondered her words for a moment. “Think simply with me, just for a moment. Erase the thoughts and ideas and grandiose for just a second and think as simply as a ray of sun.” She cleared her throat and slowly continued. “I said orderly alliance, you said orderly world. I said I need you, you said I can use someone else. I said the world is falling apart, you said you need to build your realm. You once said you trusted in my judgment, but now I can’t find that same confidence in you. I don’t know what happened to you so quickly, Anak’thas, but I can’t help but feel a seed of sadness in my chest over it. This discussion at the summit was to help define where we should advance and where we should cooperate to avoid struggles, to avoid mismatched ideals and to avoid choking one another — to promote that same order I preached when we first met. Something in you doesn’t want to listen to me, and I don’t know why.”

“Have you taken a node yet, dear sister?”

“Of course, darling.”

“The first time I took one I felt such a rush. I fashioned myself a god before that moment. Even now I cannot believe my own hubris at that time! I wasn’t a god. Not until I touched a node. It gave me the power of raw creation. But then I wandered to the second node.” He looked down at the Laws of Anak’thas strapped to his arms. “I was taken by surprise by a monster of anarchy. It was… an impossible creation which would’ve slain me should I have given it the chance. That is what happened to me sister.”

“The alliance you wish to raise, it is important. Necessary even. But you must understand that the enemy we were supposed to fight is already here. He is infecting the land as we speak. I can send someone to the summit who will speak with my authority. Who will share our views of a prosperous pantheon. They will be an extension of me. But please, I beg of you now, please understand that I must head east. You said I once trusted your judgment. I still trust it. I only ask you to trust mine now too.”

Benea pursed her lips. "We will be deciding how the Crucible's will be divided among the Orderly Alliance as well as who's will shall be put forth during the Triggering Event. Are you comfortable delegating those decisions to a subordinate?"

Anak’thas was visibly displeased. Benea did seem to be in a suspicious rush to decide who would cause the Triggering Event. Even though they hadn’t claimed all the nodes yet. “I trust a subordinate to know which lands I already have, and which ones I want.” He said. “As for the Trigger Event, only I can give my word for that. So you will have to wait until I can come, which is after I have taken the next two nodes.”

"You're acting very defensive, dear," Benea looked up from her sitting position. "Is something bothering you?"

The Lantern-God looked at Benea for only a moment. Was something bothering him? Yes. The strange sense of urgency behind the summit. Meanwhile, actual manifestations of chaos were making their appearance around the very nodes that ruled the land.

“Yes.”

Without elaborating further he strode out of the tent. “Continue the preparations.” He loud proclaimed. The humans that buzzed around the camp very much continued their work. To them, of course, nothing had changed.

A simple melodic voice called behind him. "Shall I be taking that subordinate with me then, dear?"

Anak’thas did not turn around. “I will send him out when he is ready.”

A thoughtful hum played behind Anak’thas before Benea’s voice came again. “I’m terribly sorry about this, sweet Anak’thas, but it really is for your own good.”

Before Anak’thas could turn around or even answer, a great white flash overtook the scene. The world turned white and a screaming fuzz took over all sound and in moments all of Anak’thas’ senses turned to static, his body seizing and the world hiding behind white nothingness. The only thing that seemed to chime through the sudden void is Benea’s voice, still as warm as ever.

“I’ll help you, dear. Your beloved Benea will see you all fixed and in good order again.”

After that, nothing.

---

The next morning was a peaceful one. The sky was an azure blue with wisps of white dancing through on a spring breeze, and the scent of meadow flowers was in the air. Benea herself couldn’t help but smile up at the splendid weather, having to not even play a hand in its creation. With the peace she couldn’t help but conjure up a chair by the black node of region 14 and sit to enjoy it.

Her left hand was pressed against the node, now one of hers, and her right hand laid on a copper box that sat in her lap. She gave the box a small pat. “There there, dear. I’ll get you a proper home soon enough, then perhaps I can find some medicine for your ailment.”

As Benea spoke, three specks of light zipped from her lips: one green, one blue and one red. Each sped off in a different direction, a message on each.

---

Eleanna smirked and felt her heart pump faster. In the shadows cast by the oasis’ palm trees hid Were-Taker, covered by his usual coat. He’d insisted on coming to the first Party, just to make sure his little “friends” behaved properly around his boss.

It had been quite a while since Eleanna had met the now-famous beast tamer and in that time the lizard-man had managed to tame a large amount of were-humans for Eleanna and turned them from a collection of wild beasts into a proper warband.

A simple glance at the entourage would give anyone all they information they needed about them – Werebears, Werewolves, Werebulls, Werelions and more were all present, with the one shared trait among them being their dishevelled, the dried blood around their mouths and staining the hair down their necks, and the neat and straight scars along their backs and limbs where no fur grew.

Some of them stood on two legs, while others stood on four or even slithered along the ground, all with their bloodshot eyes, twitchy muscles and foaming mouths. Eleanna could barely believe the fact that they weren’t just jumping on her and devouring her right then and there, and he knew that she had to thank Were-Taker for it.

Turning once more, she let her eyes set themselves on her goal – her immediate future. 14, Anak’thas’ land. She’d gotten to know the lamp-guy a bit throughout their days as travelling buddies years ago, and so she knew that there was no way in hell that he would just ignore what she was about to do.

She had taken her time teaching the Daman Peoples how to stay strong in the face of adversity and how to cope with failure and tragedy, and now she had the opportunity to finally teach others the same.

She chuckled to herself at the thought, feeling a strange kind of giddiness in her belly as she took the first step towards the green, temperate land. Behind her, the ground rumbled with the step of a hundred rabid werehumans.



The last rays of sunlight were vanishing as she approached the fledgling town’s gate, made of rickety wood and guarded by two men wielding spears of bronze and clad in thick leathers.

The men fidgeted with their spears nervously, giving each other a glance as Eleanna stopped just a few metres before them. One of them recoiled at her height, being at least a full head taller than him.

“Good Evening, gents.” She said, her voice muffled and distorted by her helmet.

“Evening.” Said one of them, half his hair grey and the other half brown. Wrinkles covered his face and a nasty scar lined his jaw.

There was a long, tense silence..

“Welcome t-”

“Don’t tell me you two are all this town has to offer?” Eleanna interrupted the old man, stomping her spear on the ground so that the skulls tied to its tip clacked against each other. “Your skulls are too big for my spear, don’t you have small dogs or something? Also what happened with the land’s aura? It feels like that bitch’s aura instead of lamp-guy’s.”

The men tensed up and tightened their grips on their shields.

Something banged against Eleanna’s helmet, denting the metal. She turned to see it as it landed on the gravel. A sharp piece of stone.

She turned to look at the man on top of the watchtower next to the gate. He was preparing his sling for another shot and as he did, he shouted.

“You better leave now, freak!”

Eleanna wheezed, and then she started laughing as loud as one could possibly laugh. It was a belly laugh, one that surely echoed throughout the entire settlement and burned itself into everyone’s mind. Before long and as the men lowered their guards a little, she snorted one last time and sighed happily.

“That’s more like it!” She gave them a thumbs up with her left hand, then pointed behind her at the darkness below the canopies of the pine trees of the forest. “Look there, will you?”

So they did, and a dozen pairs of glowing pupils stared back at them. They weren’t human.

The youngest guard gasped and slipped, falling flat on his bum and knocking the air out of his own lungs. The older guard rushed to his side and propped him up.

“W-What do you want?! Leave us alone already! We’ve never even met you!” Begged the old guard.

“Hey, don’t blame me! I’m just trying to teach you a lesson here. Life is not fair and tragedy can strike at any moment, you know? In this case, you should be thankful it’s me who found you and not someone else. So here’s the deal-” Eleanna started, only to be interrupted by another sharp rock hitting her helmet.

“We don’t make deals with bandits, leave!”

“By the Light, shut the fuck up slingboy!” screamed the old man.

Eleanna crouched down and grabbed the stone, throwing it at the young sharpshooter’s head so hard it ricocheted off his forehead and tore a hole through the straw ceiling of the watchtower. The teenager crumpled into a heap, unconscious. “Yeah, you should probably learn some manners, boy.” Eleanna muttered under her breath.

“... So here’s the deal, we’ll come back next dawn and meet you and everyone who wants to fight for their life here. And don’t think of escaping through any of the other gates, ‘cause we obviously have eyes on those as well. Defeat us fair and square and you get to live. Fail and both you and everyone in the city dies. Sound good?”

“No!”

“Good. Be back in eight hours. Gotta love those short summer nights huh?” Eleanna gave one last chuckle before walking back into the pine woods, the monstrous sets of pupils vanishing soon after and leaving the guards to rush into their settlement and towards their leader’s house.

---

Dark riders on dark steeds rode through a land that made them look radiant by comparison. At the center of the tight formation Finley, Anak'thas’ messenger, rode with little experience made up for by a high degree of fear. All that stood between him and the dead lands beyond the road were five nomads and a horned priestess who were putting on brave faces.

Their steeds were weighed down by saddle bags stuffed with food, as well as plentiful arrows and at least one spear each, which slowed them some, but if there was one upside to this land, it was that the road that pierced through it was a marvel that entirely made up for the speed lost from their food stores.

As such they were making good time through the wastes, their steeds having allowed them to either out run or skirmish to death the odd giant insect that had wandered into their path, and their ignorance to the value of the crystalline flora having meant there had been no temptation to stray from the path. Now, however, their pace slowed as they approached the node, they slowed, for there was a presence there. It was towering, wisps of darkness that their minds took in as a whole and read as strangely human shaped, though it was so vague that none could say if it were just a trick of the light or the mind.

So they found themselves stopped in their tracks, unsure if they should push on and risk whatever the presence was, or turn back and renege on their oaths. Eventually the horned priest cursed and put herself forwards as the one to test the waters, the cloaked and hooded woman urging her steed forwards at a nervous trot towards the node while the rest hung back with their bows (likely futilely) held at the ready.

Monica stepped out of the shadows, as though she had been traversing another unseen realm closely beside the horned priest for an unknown period of time. The light of the golden path slowly introduced her, as sections of her shape appeared piece by piece, a deep darkness alive with reverence and curiosity, clinging to her like a child, reluctant to let go. The lone goddess revealed herself akin to the way the moon and stars, gentle and glowing with pale peacefulness, revealing their sacred selves when night descends upon a forlorn world seeking illumination. Her eyes seemed to shimmer as she gazed upon the riders, and so she presented herself with a delicate smile and soft words. “I am Monica, the Mother of Maelite, and a protector of the pilgrims upon the Golden Path. There is no need to be afraid when in my presence.”

Both human and horse were startled by her sudden appearance from the gloom, but her words soothed the fear of the mortals, who in turn quickly soothed that of beasts. The horned one slipped off of her steed and onto the golden rode, before bowing and saying “We are honored by your presence and protection” as the other riders put away their weapons. Then she stood upright once more, flipping back her dark hood to reveal raven hair, rosy skin and a warm smile.

“And I am sure I speak for all of the 12th realm when I say that it is a relief to find you alive and well” she said, which got a few nods from the others as they rode over and joined the priestess on the ground. She made a quick round of introductions, ending with “and I am Lilly, disciple of Xavior.”

“I am seeking my brother. Do you know where I may find him now?” Monica asked, ever exuding a polite and yet awkward aura around even the very small number of humans. She stood before them as a kind and gentle goddess, but retained an eternally ethereal quality that alienated herself from the rest of them, separated as a source of visible comfort yet so distantly out of reach akin to the moon and stars. She was otherworldly; an aspect of the divine, and to be divided from mortals in such a non-subtle, but still insidious fashion, evoked grief which painfully grasped her heart, so frail, and strangled it. There was cruel irony in how she seemed to be the more haunting visage among their number, how she must have appeared akin to a ghost returning from death, however it was these humans in her eyes which were mortal and would eventually die regardless of her efforts to save them that seemed much more macabre.

She startled herself with the sudden feeling of wet streaks trailing down her cheeks, as obsidian tears fell from her eyes. Monica averted her gaze from Lilly and the other mortals, hiding her tears of mourning for her sake and for the sake of the humans. Her sorrow should burden others, and she wished that others would not heed her crying for she sensed the looming presence of the Shepherd come closer. The dark colossus had vanished from view when she had greeted the riders, but it had yet to actually move until now. Even with her divine sight, she could not see its shape, but she knew it was kneeling right beside them, head almost pressed against the ground to better see her. The shifting shadows were long and hazy around them, slowly easing the boundaries between the endless black and finite bright path they stood upon, warning those that dwelled in the light of their limited life, dreadful evidence of an awaiting inevitable demise.

The human’s for which she moved were confused by the brief flash of emotion she displayed before hiding it, and ignorant to the source of it too “When we left he still resided in the temple around the 12th node” Lilly explained, and then added “If you travel back the way we came, you will no doubt find him there still, safe and sound” misplacing the source of that glimpse of sorrow.

“We ourselves seek Benea, and, to an extent knowledge of what happened here and to the people that followed you. Are they safe? Did they continue down this road to another land?” she then asked, as the others humans and their steeds closed ranks instinctively as the darkness played at the edge of their senses.

Monica merely nodded as she cleansed herself of teary stains, before turning to face them once more and gesturing along the glittering golden path that traveled north beyond the stout black pillar that could be seen ahead. “Benea went farther onward to claim a node. Her intention was to reconnect with Anak’thas and Dzallitsunya before reconvening at another node to discuss the future of the Crucible. Unfortunately I do not know her exact location, but I believe the others that traveled with her remain safe.” She explained, and her words were accompanied by the arrival of numerous umbral specks drifting languidly through the air like blackened ashes carried by the wind - the textureless dark inviting itself onto the golden path, aimless and ambivalent as it swirls around the goddess and hovers among the riders.

“That is heartening to hear” Lilly replied, letting out a breath she had not known she had been holding before continuing “and I am sure everyone back home will be glad to know it too, once we return from our journey there.”

While she stayed focused the others found their eyes, ears and curiosities drifting to the dark motes, with one of them eventually plucking up the courage to attempt to scoop one out of the air into her hands. The small speck was chilling to touch, poking pinpricks of the frigid cold that left lingering traces upon the bodies as more motes descended upon the others, but the stains were quick to disperse as well, leaving no remnant of themselves behind.

“Make haste… Never stray from the golden path on your journey, and should you encounter any of the lost denizens of Maelite upon the road, ride past them or please push them back into the darkness, as the light will protect you.” Monica proclaimed, and her words stirred the shadows once more; pulsing before turning into a sudden vista of swirling, twirling, tenebrous terrain which appeared across the black realm, though whether it was the true shape of the land or just an illusion created by the dancing darkness was difficult for the mortals to discern. It was a combination of haunting beauty and agile horror, graceful like an unknown hunter in the night; swiftly surprising and passionately attentive as if alive and aware. The hypnotic patterns that appeared the longer the mortals looked seemed to stare back, conveying cryptic and enigmatic expressions that creeped into their minds.

“It will be as you say” Lilly replied before giving a short bow and a “thank you for your guidance” while the others muttered much of the same, with one having to be physically nudged into doing so after being caught by the spirals. What had been relief had set in upon the arrival of Monica discontent had begun to set in more and more, which meant that when the mote catcher asked: “If I might ask goddess … Why did you make this place the way it is?” She was elbowed in the side by Lilly.

“Heed not her words. You have already blessed us with your guidance, we should ask nothing more of you when we already cannot repay your kindness” she the priestess insisted, her eyes betraying the cautious fear she felt in her heart.

“Were we blind before being born? Were we once empty vessels before becoming ourselves? Deprived of sensation and safety, will we regain what we lost, I wonder? Maelite makes us blind and empty so that we can learn to perceive the world around us, and be instilled with new purpose, new understanding. Darkness gives shape to light, and light gives shape to darkness. They define each other. Akin to darkness and light, I made this place with both the love and hatred in my heart. Perhaps after you leave and return home, you will understand.” Monica answered with a combination of musing aloud and esoteric platitudes seemingly harmless, which starkly contrasted with the otherworldly sight of the white winged goddess standing before the precipice where the protective path of light and the profuse presence of the black fathomless abyss encountered each other.

The mortals certainly didn’t know what to make of it, not collectively anyway. As the asker of the question committed the words to memory and would eventually write them down, the priestess simply smiled and thanked her for her words of wisdom and finally asked “Is there anything we can do for you, goddess? Provisions? A steed? An Escort? Anything we can do to ease your own journey and repay you for your protection and wisdom?”

“Your generosity is much appreciated, but I cannot accept such gifts. Our brief conversation has been more than enough to ease my mind, and my protection comes freely to the kind and curious like yourselves, so do not concern yourself with repayment. I only wish for all of you to find peace and joy in this world wrought with sorrow. Hmm… should you find Benea, would you please give this to her for me? Let her know I will seek her out after I have spoken with Xavior.” Instead of receiving anything from the riders, Monica conjured forth a large crystal carved to look like a pair of wings; a crystal which fit in the palm of her hands, then she offered it to Lilly as she made her request. She gave another subtle smile to them, conveying her content and her faith in their conviction.

“Of course goddess” Lilly replied, a touch relieved it seemed at being able to do something in turn for the goddess, as she reached out and took the crystal as requested “we’ll make sure it she gets it, and let her know your will as well of course”

Monica remained silent as she ascended, disappearing in the clouds of darkness as though she were a figment of one’s imagination or simply a dream they all had shared. Then without warning, the path of light upon which the riders stood rumbled slightly, but became quickly still soon after without an explanation. Aside from themselves, nothing else stayed in sight, nothing except for the observant shadows that preoccupied themselves with swallowing the rest of the world leaving loneliness like a companion to walk beside them throughout the rest of their travels in the susurrating void. It was only the apathetic abyss all around, alone and clamorous, contemptful of the light and those that walk within its confines, always threatening to tear down the last source of illumination in this shadowy land.

The mortals, once more bereft of divine protection in this misbegotten land, collectively shivered and then, after the gift for Benea was hastily stashed, quickly remounted and raced one more towards the other side, still not knowing quite what they would find there.

Some days had passed since the capture of the 23rd node. In divine fashion, it had taken a mythically short time for Cotazur to recover from wounds that would have killed anything else. Of course, even the fact that it had taken some days had cost him valuable time. Time that could have been spent doing… What?

The question had plagued him since he had woken up. What was he doing here, exactly? He had been alive for, what, a week, and probably five of those days had been spent in a blackout. The anxiety had stung deeper; what if he had been alive for months, but had been recovering from his wounds most of that time? And in his waking time, what had he done? Killed some people? Murdered some things? Made some stuff?

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, this was not the way, this was not the way. How would people recognise his greatness if, if he couldn’t even stay conscious for a full week? No, no, no, he needed publicity - he, he needed to get his name out there! He needed cronies, devotees, slaves to his will, oh yes.

Oh no, wait, that wasn’t the way to think about it. He, he needed friends first of all. People who’d die for him smilingly, yes. Yes, yes, yes, that was a good framing.

Now, how to do that?

Cotazur had spent the better part of the day traversing his nodelands, moving south at a determined pace. Despite the steepening of the incline, he hadn’t slowed down one bit, besting muscle fatigue with unblinking eyes and unabated speed. Within sundown, he had reached the highest peak of the mountain and stared across his own lands. The red sunset washed across his realm like the blush of a flattered face, but dared not pour into the black abyss that was the sea and the southern lands. Cotazur frowned - he would take those lands in time.

Then he turned around and saw… Swamps. Swamps and forests. Like his forests, but worse. Yes, he was certain they were worse, probably because of the mushrooms. They popped up all around like zits on skin. Disgusting place.

He had to go there.

Charging down the mountain wall, the crazed man moved into the neighbour’s land.

---

As his strength had recovered during his meditations, the list of things that Vatarr needed to do presented itself once again in his mind. However, as he pushed himself from this fungi throne to stand one idea rose to the forefront of his mind beyond all the others.

Closing his eyes again as he focused on keeping his mind clear and calm, the only sound that originated within the clearly around Vatarr’s personal glade was that of his own deep breaths as he placed his hands against two different sections of his own body; His left hand planted itself on his upper thigh since that was currently were the new growth of his body was strongest, while his right found its was to his left shoulder, were decay held the most sway.

There was a moment of silence. Of mentally preparing oneself for what had to happen next. Then…

The roar of pain that echoed throughout the fungal marshes was loud and inhuman, but it was brief. While ripping two handfuls of your own flesh out of your own body was a brutal and rather painful experience, the deity was a fast healer if nothing else. As Vatarr lumbered with their breaths for a few minutes, the two carefully selected pieces of his body that he had chosen rested within his hands while the wounds they left behind were already starting to heal.

Once the pain started to fade, Vatarr focused intently on the former pieces of his flesh and what they both represented in their own way. One represented the bloom of life itself, while the other was the symbol of its decay and rot. As he focused his divinity into them, both started to…melt? What were once chunks of divine flesh turned into a liquid like putty in his hands, twisting into a pair of censors made from some kind of metal, but told apart by being different colors (green and black respectively).

From both censers grew a chain that allowed them both to dangle in the air, before the final touch of what appeared to be a wooden shaft formed within both of Vatarr’s hands; Long enough that he could use both of the censers in his hands as a flail, but short enough that he could tuck them around his waist to let them hang freely as the censers that they were.

With the creation process done, Vatarr gazed upon the newly created Life and Death for a moment… before he turned his gaze towards the second of his borders to be claimed and calmed. There didn’t seem to be any harm in stopping by before he moved out to claim some new territory of his own.

---

Kicking over a mossy stump, Cotazur stormed mirthlessly into the woodlands. The mountainside hissed with rolling gravel as he came to a stop at its food, spying into the thick overgrowth and dense undergrowth. He found his first giant mushroom; it taunted him with its mycelian vigour and myconic pride. Cotazur would not suffer its continued existence.

With a raged jump, he skipped ahead and cut it down with a single chop of Flawless. The mass of mushroom came crashing to the forest floor, clouds of spores rushing into the air like the dust off an old mattress. Cotazur kept chopping it up into thick rings; all around him, animal life cowered and escaped deeper into the woods. The madman screamed and kept chopping away with murderous glee, reducing the mushroom trunk to little more than spore sand by itself.

“YES!” he squealed, “UN-EXIST, YOU FOUL CREATION!”

He kicked over a nearby innocent ant hill and started chopping at a tree trunk thereafter. Before long, he had left a small trail of timber behind, making his way deeper into the woods like a drill through a mountain.

Of course, Cotazur’s one man rampage against the innocent scenery and creatures of the Fungal Marshes wasn’t exactly… well, subtle. One creature fleeing from something was just perfectly normal predator and prey activity; All of them fleeing from something, regardless of where it was in the food chain… that caught Vatarr’s attention.

It rather helped that they were all running away from the direction that he had been heading in the first place… and the rest of the ‘tracking’ that needed to happen was simply following the insane shouts and yelling.

So it was that Vatarr was the first of the divine to bare witness to Cotazur in the flesh. Stepping out from the yet to be destroyed wilderness in front of the murderhobo of a deity, the lord of the Fungal Marsh looked every bit as intimidating and powerful as a deity should be as the tall, deer skulled entity stood shrouded and veiled in a mist that was a mixture of light green and dark green… that seemed to be both encouraging the plant life within its reach to grow out of control while at the same time causing it to wither, sicken and decay into melch almost as fast as anything could grow.

“Under normal circumstances, I would like to think that I would be a generous host for my guests. Doing one’s best to make them feel welcomed and trying to make them feel comfortable after taking the time to come and visit.” The tone had started with a general feeling of the speaker being put upon… and quickly devolved into annoyance from there. “You are not acting like a guest. You are being a nuisance. A pest. I suggest you reconsider very quickly.

In his steps, the madman froze like a twig in a winter storm. He chopped his final chop and looked around, his eyes finally settling on the horned creature a rock lob away. He swallowed, straightened his back and dusted off his sawdust-covered cloak some. “The trees, they started… They, uhm…” He looked around. “Uhm, actually, I cannot be a pest, because… Uhm… Because I am a person. Yeah, that’s right. Why are you accusing me of being something I am not, huh? Why aren’t you, you applauding my efforts?” He gestured to the trail of death behind him. “Can’t you see all the weeding I just did for you?”

There was a soft sigh and a shake of his head. “I don’t even know your name yet… and I can already tell that coexistence isn’t going to be possible. I don’t know what you represent sir, but there is no place for it in my world.” This wasn’t said in anger or boastfulness. It was simply said in the same manner one would say they were going to finally deal with whatever was causing that awful smell in the storeroom.

The source of the mists revealed themselves as Vatarr started to spin his twin flails, his attention locked on this intruder. The crazed man scoffed.

“Wh-what! You, you would dare raise a hand against me?! You absolute cretin, you mindless bafoon!” Cotazur readied his axe again and raised it over his head. “You… YOU WOULD DARE?!” He then charged ahead swinging wildly. “YOU WOULD DAAAAARE?!”

There wasn’t a verbal response from Vatarr. There was just the patiences of a predator as he waited until the axe wielding idiot was in range… and then two things happened in quick succession. The first was for Life to come swinging from the right on an interception course with the axe blade, the goal being to ‘slap’ it to the side in order to knock the wielder off balance and open him up to attack.

The second was for Death to take advantage of this opening to connect with the side of his face, hard, the impact coming with pure entropy and pestilence to really make it stick.

As planned, so it went. By Life, Cotazur's tool of harm was obliterated from his hand, soaring into the unknown depths of a nearby swamp; by Death, his face suffered the same fate, though his neck was fortunately just strong enough to pull the rest of his body along. Cotazur soared through the air and crashed into a mass of moss and grimy water, forming a small crater.

"Kh… Kh…" was all his shattered mouth managed to squirt out as hopelessly directionless limbs twitched and poked weakly at the air and water. The mass of fur that was his cloak had hardly cushioned any of the blow - his armour was cracked in places.

In another timeline, this would have been where Cotazur’s story ended; With one or two finishing strikes from Life and Death and his corpse left to be dragged down into the mud and serve as nutrition for a great many lifeforms. However, before these final blows could land, there was a moment's pause on Vatarr’s part as he gazed down at the badly wounded deity.

Silently, the dark green mists of Death started to disappear while Vatarr gently swung Life over Cotazur’s broken form, its life encouraging energies easily seeping past his broken armor and aiding his flesh in regenerating and healing. “You invaded my realm, terrorized its population, destroyed plants and animals with wild recklessness. By all rights I should kill you here and now for being the young and reckless idiot you are… but we are both young and capable of doing reckless, idiotic things.”

“In exchange for your life I am claiming your land and its Node to do with as I see fit and banishing you to the North. You may take your axe with you so that you may defend yourself and claim one of the still available Nodes to the North. Do you agree to these terms?” Some might have argued that the choice between being exiled and being executed wasn’t much of a choice at all, but one always had the freedom to suffer the consequences of one's actions.

Without so much as a word, Cotazur sprinted off to the north like a spooked rat, not even bothering to look for his weapon.

For a moment Vatarr watched as the lesser deity fled without even stopping to claim the weapon that he had generously allowed him to keep in the terms of the agreement. There was a moment of silence before a sigh escaped him. Turning towards where the axe had flown, the deer skulled deity calmly went to go and search for it; He was already going to have to make a detour to request a mortal to take a message to Brey, he might as well ask for someone to take the axe and run it up North after its skittish owner.

No one would be able to accuse him of being a thief after all.

The First Rays of the Incoming Dawn

Croll was not a man to overthink, the world was simple when you broke it down, yet one thing had been bugging him, and that was... what he was. Was he still the tribal leader of his people? Were he and Zed Dzallitsunya's second in command? If he said he wanted to leave for another province, how many would follow him?

Not that he wanted to leave, the thought didn't even truly pass by his head, he was part of a small group of people who did not wander from camp to camp, but that stayed fixed near the major village of the Twilight Swamps. He had built what was probably the largest of homes, the first one to have a second floor, with the first floor now being dedicated to storing goods and meeting people.

He was obsessed with having as many materials as possible, every new herb, every new animal fur, every new rock, he wanted it. Initially, he travelled with the groups to collect them but now he saw far more results by centralising it to his home, where he could mix and match materials together, he could plant herbs, ferment them, burn them, he could polish rocks, melt them. The majority of results were mediocre at best and bad at worst, he and a few helpers had gotten themselves poisoned a few times. But when it worked, oh the results were amazing.

Textiles from plants, from animals and from whatever the mucous thing that made Tsillo was. New gemstones were freed from stone. New Dyes. New plants that worked either to eat and nourish or with unusual but pleasant spicy or sweet tastes. And although the tribe was becoming more distant, he found himself with a closely-knit group of associates. Kadja, master of foodstuffs, his wife Midzi who helped with working the stones, and many young and curious lads and lasses, some of his tribe, some of Zed's tribes. When seeing that, he almost felt like it was fine, he could just imagine that maybe it was fine, he could be happy with this arrangement.

But oh things weren't so simple.

For one, his son, Biedo. He saw in him good leadership, his work on the highlands had been tremendous. But like most of the young, he was too much of a... zealot, for Dzallitsunya. He even called himself Bedjo, using the goddess' own pronunciation, a mix of Zed's and Croll's. It felt like ironic karma for his sycophant ways when he first met the goddess, but that was a plan to get blessed, Biedo's desires were true.

Still, he was sure the boy would fix himself over time, and it's not like being too faithful to a goddess that was real and active in the community was that bad, until at least he rejected a great marriage opportunity, of him with Zed's younger sister, Daga, because of some misguided crush on the goddess and a belief he should rigorously follow the setting of the marriage festival to find his partner.

And that led his mind to the actual problem. He was unsure about the goddess.

There was no other god he'd rather work under, even as rumours of others spread about. Dzallitsunya, lady of twilight and shadows, was surely caring and rarely demanding, she was intelligent and amicable. He imagined trying to talk to other gods was like talking to a wall, and she was no wall.

She was a river.

When talking to someone as stubborn as a wall, you have no delusions of progress, you can see the points you make bouncing against an unmoving mind. Dzallitsunya? She was stubborn as a river, she gave the impression you could make it, the chance to put your full effort against the water, but the water is uncaring, its flexible in form but inflexible in destination, you can even swim up a bit, but what does that change for the river? Nothing. And that is what he felt when discussing with her, she was understandable but never willing to learn, she asked how they felt but only saw it with her own eyes, she expressed having doubts but never seemed to even consider his opinion as truly worthwhile, even if she wasted time listening to it.

This worried Croll, because if she was not listening to the humans closest to her, then she was all alone, alone with only her mind and thoughts, and nothing good could come of that. Not for the land, not for the realm and not even for herself. He would have to deal with that one way or another, sooner or later, for everyone's good.

Then suddenly he rose up, all this talk about moving rivers... it had inspired him.



The tall, pale-olive skinned man looked down at the bags of colourful pigment. In particular, he was interested in the colourful rainbow-like purple and cyan stones that seemed to appear less and less in the village.

"Maranya, my sweet friend, what is happening? Not only you don't have Chalcopyrite anymore, but the selection of powder extracts are so poor too. I wanted to paint the new wall of my home with something shining and colourful. After all, I will be having a bride there soon."

The woman sighed. "The rainbow rock is gone cause of something weird Croll's group did, some kid, a friend of your sister, discovered how to make metal out of it, somehow."

He laughed. "My my, isn't Croll on a streak? First, he discovers how to move the hot water from the central swamp, then how to use that to grow lots of plants in the fields. Now you tell me these sharper knifes that have been showing are also his design? That man's brain is as big as his belly."

Maranya shook her head "You are so rude Zed. Always were. Back in the cave, always felt like you were a prick to be fully honest."

He gasped, a hand in his chest. "How... How could you!" he then laughed. "Not like I asked to be the leader... In fact I don't even remember exactly what happened, was just born a leader, just like my sister was born my sister? You know. When the world was created."

She nodded at that, and then looked up at the starry sky. "Isn't it weird? How in enough time there will be no one left to remember the creation of the world?"

"It is not the future that scares me, that is natural, but the past, it does bother me Maranya. Dzallitsunya explained the origins of the world by the hands of a dying god... does that mean we are his imagination? Did he imagine me, my sister, you, Croll... maybe even Dzallitsunya? Were we people he knew and brought back? Was it some random act, and we, who we are, is just a random whim of fate? I feel lost when I think about this, everything around me feels so more brittle..."

The girl laughed, stepping closer to Zed. "Man... when you want to be smart, you really say some interesting things." she hummed. "Anyway, before we get too distracted, I just wanted to add that yeah, sorry for the lack of pigments, it's Croll's fault, his stock has been poor." she circled closer with small steps, delivering a sudden punch to the side of the arm, a playful one. "Though the information you would be in the marriage festival, well, that is new. Got any plans for any lady of your choice there?" she smirked mischievously.

Zed felt her eyes piercing him, probably for clues, he blushed at that concept, especially with how close she had gotten now and what he felt was something... very complicated to express here. "Say, Maranya, small talk is nice and all, but I should probably go and see what is up with Croll".

With that, he fled.

...

The fields of Croll's home were the closest to the boiling swamps near the volcano, and ever since he had started working on the farm, they were directly connected to his field by a simple dug-out canal. The hot water was not useful for irrigation, but what the other tribal leader had discovered was a method where the fertile land is put above a layer of stones. The hot water filtered through the stone, trapping both heat and nutrients that rose to the vegetable patches above. It was a complicated set up since it used multiple canals with different types of water, but growing crops that before had been rare were now flourishing in the central swamp.

Zed had been fully distracted by the crop patches until he heard something, it was Dzallitsunya and Croll, talking in a somewhat secluded area, their tone serious.

"My Lady. I do not see the true problem with this. It helps us to move the goods faster and get the people to have a better will to work. I am not doubting your ideas but... you cannot possibly believe the current arrangement can last, not with more lands being added to the realm, not with more and more babies being born. It's impossible." the slightly overweight man complained, avoiding an outburst however.

The goddess sighed. "I appreciate your ingenuity Croll, and I accept this must be frustrating for you, but the way things were developing was bothering me." answered Dzallitsunya, remaining calm and still, as she always did. She had a way to look imposing but also reassuring, perhaps not unlike the night sky, as black and as deep as a pit but never as scary, thanks to the small hints of light called stars.

"The way things were going, everything was starting to have a price, at first, it was the precious things people sought, the pigments, the tsillo, and that were fine. Then it was the tools, everyday clothes, that started to be bartered, then it was most of the food, and at that point, it was too much. What will be next on our society's bartering list?" she waved her cape about, showing a bit less control than usual. "Will we deny water to the man dying of thirst in the highland deserts unless they give us three pieces of amber? Will we let children drown unless their parents brought us a copper knife? Or maybe refuse to help someone with a broken leg just because they don't have enough snail conchs to give us."

Croll took a deep breath. "We can control it better, everything is new and we are testing things, I... I just find your actions to be a bit harsh my goddess, you can't stop bartering within the territory, you can stop us from doing things to streamline it, but is it good?"

"I do not understand why you think your methods are deserving of being given chances, but mine should be made to step back for it because it too has mistakes." she half turned away, the ringing of her jewellery filling the tense room for a long time. "You and some others even started paying people in earrings and gemstones to work as your maids and servants, how long until what is being traded are not people's services but people themselves? Sold off in a market not unlike an animal fur or a pet fish."

"Selling people? That is absurd no one would..." he noticed in his own words that his tone was naive. "And even if they did, you can make that a crime. On the other side, as you are managing the system now, any mistake you make will also result in unhappiness, things cannot be solved by gift sharing and supplies from the temple. And we already struggle with jobs, most young males want to be hunters and explorers but we already have more than we need especially now that the farms are providing food, meanwhile more boring and mundane tasks are piling up, to give them a payment they can exchange for something they like, it gives them the drive to do those tasks."

"I can assign people manually to the jobs they must perform."

"But would that not lead to unhappiness? To lock someone in working on something they do not like and that provides no benefit?"

"It keeps their community safe and healthy, is that not enough benefit?" she sighed, rubbing her chin. "Perhaps, make it a duty all would perform from time to time."

"The latter proposal does seem sound goddess, but what about the people's main work?"

"We will see about that later, look. For now I am too busy, I am sorry, I did not come here to discuss this, I came to discuss the new lands we need to explore and connect. But now, I do not think I have time even for that. We will resume this conversation in a few days, after the festival."

The shadow goddess left, her dark cape twirling, Zed not even saying hello as she left, instead immediately looking at Croll, who only now noticed him.

"That was rough." Zed said. "From what I got, she shut down your operations here? Shame, this warehouse was doing wonders for my work."

"Bah. It's useless my friend." he patted Zed's shoulder. "I will be lucky if I get even a minor concession, there is no reasoning with the goddess on this."

Zed turned, surprised. "Do you think so?" seeing the other tribal leader tilt his head in confusion, Zed continued. "She was passionate about the topic, and yet, she did hear your points. At least I felt like it. More than usual at least. Dzalli has cold words but you need to pay attention to her expressions and the way her body sways."

Croll was surprised. "Do you think so."

"Well, at least she admitted she has issues going on, despite things still being good. At the worst case, she will prepare for those problems." Zed added. "Come on, you are so boastful normally, yet you don't realise how good you are at this? To talk back to the goddess like that, I would not have the courage."

"I am boastful? You are the one spitting remarks as edgy as snake fangs."

"But that is with friends, and with humans." Zed sighed. "Plus, well, it's easier to be nasty than to be sincere. When I am fearful, I freeze. Goddess, all eyes on the marriage festival will be on me, and I think I will freeze in place. How did you ask your wife on marriage Croll?"

"We... didn't?" he laughed. "Woke up with her as my love, and our kids too. But if I had to say, you should just take the dive Zed. The girls love that fancy talk of yours and the whole event is meant to help people not to be shy. Now, speaking of which... about Daga..."

"I am sorry Croll, I think that ship has sailed all the way to the geysers. She also now seems to favour another hunter from your son's groups, one that doesn't leave her hanging."

The merchant nodded. "Hmm. Who else could be a good match to him. Hatzur seems too rough for his taste. Maybe the pigments and paints girl, do you know her, Maranya? I am sure he seems to fancy her."

Zed gulped. "Maranya huh? I... don't think..."

---

The festival had started, the people had gathered once again like they never had before. The goddess even felt like she had seen some people she had never seen before, from the nodes beyond the swamps and highlands of the twilight goddess. Of course, the entire getup for the young ones in the festival was meant to make it hard to instantly recognise who was who. The young unmarried this day wore colourful masks and clothing, unlike anything that one would see on an average day to day of the city, colourful, sparkly and far more revealing. The duskladers had barely started to produce music and yet it was already a key part of the festival, the musicians played flutes, messed around with copper bits that produced sharp small ringing noises, and, for once, used percussion such as drums, which was most of the time seen as an unpleasant noise. The latter was probably appreciated for once because it gave the cover of sound to the already masked individuals, add to that the fragrant incense burning and oil fires illuminating the night, and the party-goers were given full anonymity until close and personal, unless they were very obvious people, like Zed for example.

To the sides was the realm of the older, the married or the left behind. The families discussed and whispered at dimly lit tables filled with the best food the swamps had to offer, shifting from table to table, mothers and fathers, grandmothers and uncles, tried to set up new deals for their future family unions. In the middle of all that, in the horizon line between the young and the old, those rising and those setting, stood the goddess of twilight, her face was at first filled with joy, but then, well, the message arrived.



Like in the day of the creation, hope was followed by trouble. She had believed in Benea's future and naively believed all would obviously follow it, but of course they had not, even excluding the degenerate gods like that foul smelling woman who defiled a corpse to steal teeth, one's ambition could get in the way, and in this case...

It hit too close home.

The mention of lust for power and nodes, she knew that, she had felt it. Those shadow flowers with cells made of pure raw godly power among the void and chaos. Her godly power. Twice she had felt it, and she could not lie that she needed a third time, then a fourth...



But she wasn't mad, of course she wasn't, she was actually extremely bothered she had over-expanded faster than HER civilisation, if she could choose, she would rather have Anak'thas keep his node. She wasn't mad. But of course, if she could have all the nodes, she would...

But for no other reason than to have some more freedom when creating the land, she constantly found herself struggling against seasons and the sun, who never accepted it was just obnoxious, and every time she tried to reduce the time it ruled over the sky she found herself being held in place by the other provinces, be it those ruled by chaos, or those ruled by others.

The goddess sighed, holding her forehead and looking up at the starry sky. Of course, she wasn't mad. She was sensible and listened to others. She told herself. She did not even know what had really happened between Anak'thas and Benea, and how mad Anak'thas had been, she was just filling the blanks with her own experience and thinking of herself being 'trapped' for being 'mad', she reasoned.

So with a deep breath, she turned away from the party, moving behind a stone-walled home and creating a mirror of silver-light.

Greetings my dear Benea.

It is regretful to know that negotiations went poorly in the south. In the mirror marches I had set up the land to be of easy access to there in hopes of helping trade flourish among our friendly realms, that Anak'thas has turned such an opportunity into tragedy is upsetting.

At the moment my hands are tied in the land, but I will start to prepare a force to keep the peace in the surroundings of the 13th node, just please forgive me if I turn out to be late, as the last few days have been eventful among my mortals and my manpower is running low.

I hope to see you again soon, and to discuss the events with Anak'thas, to better understand what this affliction is.

May the shadows bless you with respite, Dzallitsunya

Copying Benea's technique, she sent the message away, back to the goddess, the silver light fading as it flew like a thrown disk into the sky. The goddess merely stood in silence and darkness, closing her eyes and pondering deeply.

Then she heard a rattle by the docks, a little spark of light. With gentle, silent steps, she sneaks upon the anonymous duo.

The marriage festival was, of course, not just a festival meant to have fun and wear masks, the core was finding a partner. The way this worked, at least in this first version of the event, was by uniting together the materials to make an oil lamp. Following temple specifications, the bachelors and bachelorettes would collect additives for the oil and test them as an individual flame of aspects such as intensity and colour that was of their liking. When the day of the festival came and their partner was selected, the two concoctions would be mixed and used in a single lamp, the resulting flame was to be later used to kindle the first flames and hearts of the couple's house and its recipe would have to be remembered and followed as the unique signature of the family for many future festivals. Already, some couples had made their matrimonial lamps, some with good results, some with poor results.

But this one was the first that seemed to have wandered off, and the goddess could not help but wonder why.

"Hello?" the goddess of starlit skies said when she was already upon them. "Oh. Hello Hatzur, Maranya." she smiled, but the two did not, they let out a surprised eep, something unusual for the two of them, one steadfast and another one quite a trickster. The goddess was made to stare at them for a moment with true confusion in her eyes, not following the situation nor understanding why they were by the docks... only with overwhelming evidence, like a rock for starting a fire and the lamp with a united concoction did she finally connected the dots.

"Oh!" It was hard to get at first, mostly because concepts of love felt so distant and hard to understand her, to her this whole festival had been about having the humans find mates and intermarry the clans and tribes, practical reasons, childbearing, the romance and love of it was lost to her. But she appreciated those concepts, perhaps she even wanted to be able to feel them as well, though it felt impossible, as distant from her as the feeling of godhood was from humans.

"Goddess we didn't..."

Dzallitsunya shook her head. "No no, it is fine. This is a festival of love, isn't it? If you two love each other, then you have my blessing." she added with a smile, then turning her head. "I would just like if you two lit the fire together with everyone, okay? There is no reason to be shy."

Despite her words, the two feared a scandal, but it was hard to deny the goddess' own invitation. So they followed her, but soon enough any fear of scandal would be lost, as the talk of the town for the evening and morning would be something else.

Because as they entered the central plaza again, they were quickly approached by Zed.

"I..." he took a deep breath. "My goddess. I wanted to say, that I really enjoy the time I spend with you, be it talking to you, or just being by your side. Your beauty consumes me like the depths of the night sky, and when I am lost, your words are the shining stars that show the way. I... I know it's insolent of me, and if I am to be punished I will understand, but, I just must do it. Dzallitsunya, would you marry me?"

There was no gasp, the world just stood silent, music stopped, all eyes, even of those dancing and holding their partners close, was upon the duo. Dzallitsunya for her part was flabbergasted, Zed was many things, lazy, fussy, but he had never been such a fool. The full extent of her godmind could not for a moment understand what logic was at play here, from all angles, it was a terrible idea that would shake the political arrangement of the land.

It already did in fact, Croll had stood up with an indignant stare, visible to all despite him sitting quite far away from the light-giving bonfire, his own son was the one who stopped him from stepping into the light, reserved only for the young and unmarried during the festival. They bickered in whispers, the son strongly advocating for the father not to make a fool of himself.

And yet... Dzallitsunya was grinning. This was insanity, couldn't Zed see? He was the smartest mortal of these lands, despite wasting his intellect on frivolities. It was everything wrong with Humans... and that made it enticing, a tingle in her chest making her heart skip a beat, wouldn't it be funny if she said yes? What would happen? It was entirely out of her plans... before her senses could return, she found herself talking.

"I cannot marry someone who is a tribal leader, it would break the peace of the land." the bait had been set and it was not subtle, she still had the grin and one eye closed.

"Then I will let Daga have it all, my title and possessions, I wish for nothing but the title of being your loved one."

He actually did it. She thought in her mind. No hesitation even! How did humans even work? Were they all this insane? This was just too much, too much to let go.

The goddess opened her hand and revealed a vial containing a dark material, one she had gotten in the ever dark lands to the west. Umbrium, tamed and diluted by the lady of shadows herself. She handed it to Zed, the people in the plaza just feeling more and more incredulous at each passing event, if a maniac was to fall in the middle of the plaza and start crushing people to the death against walls they would probably be less startled.

The man took the material of exotic matter and walked to one of the religious agents controlling the event, the old woman, with shaky hands, gave them the special lamp, Zed added his materials and then Dzallitsunya's exotic dark matter. The flame was lit, and all gasped as in front of their eye they saw something impossible, a dark flame, eating light instead of giving it. Zed's ingredients gave the flame some colour, an aura of turquoise among the dark dancing shape, solid at the core but spreading into little sparkles at the borders, to the mortals like a piece of the starry sky taken down to earth, to the goddess, not unlike those dark flowers of flowing power she felt when she overtook a regional node.

Dzallitsunya advanced and held the lamp together, her fingers touching Zed's. "Then, let us be husband and wife." she pulled him closer, and shared their first kiss by the darkness of the lamp-gloom.

Why am I the only one who didn't get to grope our dead dad?

It sure is cramped and dark down here. Grym thought to himself. The only reason he had a semblance of down was the numerous voices chattering above him. His best guess told him he had come into being inside of the earth itself, though the how and why remain a mystery. Other than the voices that told him where he wasn't, there weren't any other clues to determine where he instead was. So, at first, he chose to listen. Despite his predicament, the voices of his predecessor along with those of fellow deities came through clearly. Enough was said to grasp the gist of what had happened and what will happen in the future. The caveat to this was all of the... curious touching of dear old dad once he died. Not sure what that's about, but the "ooh's and ah's" implied some modicum of importance. The chatter did eventually die down and an agreement had been loosely accepted among the divine before a gradual departure.

An indiscernible amount of time passed before Grym had the sense to think. They had left him, didn't even notice him, and he never agreed to nor had a say in their treaty. They even locked up dad, making it very difficult for him to cop a feel like everyone else. Imagine groping your dead dad and locking him up so no one else can; unbelievable. If his skull weren't vacuum-sealed by bedrock right now he'd be shaking his head in disapproval. Luckily, he wasn't one to hold a grudge. Who would expect a deity born stuck underground, after all? All of this gave Grym an idea to make the best out of his circumstances. Whether they had asked him or not, he'd never have agreed to a pact of neutrality right off the bat. The others had only gone along out of self-interest to prevent an all-out war from the jump. Fair enough. Boring, but fair.

Grym could feel the node resonating with his divine essence. It guided him toward the surface. No concept of time yet existed for him so there was no way to keep track of how long it took him to reach the node. Eleanna's attempt as well as the other's intervention gave him a rough idea of how the nodes worked. They took time to capture and were imperative to the world as well as the Gods. That was enough for now. The compacted earth took time and effort to loosen and burrow through but became easier to do so the more ground he managed to loosen around him until a membrane of loose gravel allowed him to traverse properly.

Between his superior physical prowess and a notable lack of sensory feedback, Grym was able to tirelessly advance underground until the light of the node validated his efforts. He was aware that even one of the guardians above would probably best him right now. Even if he could somehow manage one, the idea of undermining such a monumental effort to protect the node in this fashion was one that got him giddy with excitement. Imagine their faces when their mighty beasts are defending MY node. Hah!

In a not so graceful manner, Grym burrowed a bit further until his body was pressed against the node to activate capture progress. A reactive luminescence emitted from the node making it evident that it had begun. There were inquisitive hisses from the hydra up above and the shifting of stone that soon dampened. Grym's gamble had paid off. While he wasn't sure exactly how far underground he was, Grym had tried to remain far enough below that the sentries wouldn't detect nor be able to reach him once the process began. Had he a brow to sweat, there would have been anxious beads along it. Hours passed uneventfully if somewhat restlessly, as the guardians above shifted cautiously about.

Then it happened. The resonance of ethereal power culminated in the creation of a new domain, the domain of Grym. A plethora of ascendant knowledge became known at once. The power to shape one's domain and the might to reshape existing ones. The node he'd stolen had a pre-existing landscape and Grym could muster the resources necessary to change it, but that wasn't necessary. It would be a waste even. No, no, there was barely time to lose. The power and the node didn't even matter. The best part would be the faces of those silly Gods once they see the node taken despite their efforts. Priceless.

Grym goes into overdrive, burrowing to the surface with reckless abandon now that the node was his. A skeletal hand clad in an iron vambrace burst from the earth in the fashion of a classic zombie uprising, followed by his shoulder which thrust the rest of his upper body out from below. A gasping and triumphant cry erupted, cut short by a harsh cough as pounds of gravel fell from the skull's agape jaw. He wasn't really coughing, as he hadn't a throat or lungs to choke, but it made for a dramatic scene. The beast and the guardian stood in shock for a moment as Grym swiveled his sockets between them.

"I'm sure we can settle this peacefully."

The stone guardian rose its unwieldy blade to swing.

"I suppose not," Grym keenly evaluated before leaping to avoid the strike.

In avoiding the guardian's blade Grym was not so lucky as to avoid one of the Hydra's many heads latching onto his midsection and flailing about until launching the God toward the tomb. Grym's body crashed against the exterior of the tomb. The iron plate blanketing his body had dented, ribs cracked, yet this did not seem to inhibit him much; to his own surprise as well. He quickly scurried into the tomb to shelter himself and devise a method of escape.

Peninal was inside. The name wrang in Grym's mind as if the cadaver were a forlorn friend.

"Hey dad," The tomb shook as both creatures bore down onto it. Grym laid down next to the Old God. "Don't got a lot of time. I'm just gonna touch you and uh.. leave. Cool? Cool."
The stone shook violently again. This time light pierced through a forming crevice, mirroring the introduction of the vast knowledge that Peninal's corpse bestowed. It all became clear and Grym shook his head. "Oh, pops.. that won't work. You're evidence of that."

Hellish red light plumed from the battered stone, giving cause for the siege to briefly pause. Before the beasts could resume their barrage a blur shot from the ruins of the tomb. It zoomed past the two before circling back into the sky above. Treading in the sky well out of reach was Grym aboard a pegasus, black as coal. Grym gave the guardians a brazen wave and then flew South. He'd remain within this zone just far enough to not be bothered by those guardians in an abandoned cave. The cave appears to have been inhabited until recently. Now that the node had been claimed it was time to get an idea of what's transpired. Grym hadn't the faintest idea how long he'd been out of the game after all. The disruption may draw some back here. He'd wait and see for now.

“Hey boys.” A woman, seductively dressed, hollered at the few ‘guards’ standing near the entrance of the newly erected temple near Node 14. These were her countrymen. They had traveled from their birth node here, following a god that had given them a home and more than enough food. She gave them a coy smile as she approached them holding an amphora filled with wine. “I thought I’d come and give my thanks to the brave men who guard poor, ailing Anak’thas.”

“Oh! That’s too kind!” One of the men said. In seconds they were all over her as she poured them their drinks. There was something about the night that made men thirsty for wine and company. “The Mistress will soon be back to cure our ailing lord. I’m sure of it. Her paladins say she will.” Another man, sitting on a stool with a spear said as he held out his cup to be filled.

“I do so dearly hope it. But it’s not as if life under Benea is that much worse.” The woman said as she kept up the smile.

“No.. No it isn’t.” The man said as he took a sip of the wine. In a few more minutes the woman was sitting on the lap of one of the men. Everyone had had their fair share of wine by now. They were all laughing too. Until one suddenly stopped. At first, he just started coughing and nobody paid him any mind. Then they grew annoyed by it. Soon though, the man fell to his knees and wheezed for air. Then the others began to cough. The woman, who hadn’t had a drop of the wine, just got up and grinned as the traitors protecting her god’s prison began to suffocate before her. Once they were taken care of she took one of the torches burning and started to wave with it.

“That’s our signal,” Arakaes said. The man was born old by the First God. Not that it mattered. He carried the heart of a young zealot. “We must go!”

“I-I’m not sure.” Said Eireos. “What will Benea do if she hears about this? She might kill us all. I-I don’t want to be-“

The doubting young man was grabbed by his tunic by a middle-aged man. “Listen here cub.” Said Mureos. “The time for doubt is over. Our lord's work must be done. Now grab your knife and get ready. You’re about to be part of a tale they’ll talk about for years.”

The young man, Eiros, swallowed deeply but did brandish the dirk he was given.

These three men, and many more others rushed over from the alleyways of their fledgling city towards the temple. They rushed inside, surprising the traitors that once called Anak’thas their god. With a swift stab to the chest, both of them were dispatched. Outside, meanwhile, the poisoned guards were dragged in so as to not arouse suspicion.

“What now?” Asked Mureos. “Where is it?”

“I.. I saw the box that way. I wasn’t allowed to clean that room. Two of Benea’s Paladins were guarding it. There was another… oh god.” Eireos looked at the blood staining the tunic. He was visibly shaking.

“Get a grip of yourself boy!” Mureos hissed as he slapped the young Eiros. “What other? What other did you see?”

“Another room!” Eiros whimpered. “To the side. Another box. Another Paladin. That’s all I know! Please. Please! I shouldn’t be here.”

Mureos just sneered and shoved him towards Arakaes. “Let’s go. We have our god to save.” He looked down with utter disdain at his slain countrymen. For a second he thought he could hide his disgust. Then he realized that he couldn’t and that he shouldn’t. So he spat at their dead faces before making his way towards the room pointed out to house the two paladins and their final goal. Arakaes ran off with a group of Anak’thas’ faithful towards the other room.

The group came face to face with two of Benea’s Paladins, dressed in armor they had never seen before and armed with weapons they couldn’t dream of. They had their shields raised and their spears pointing at the door. “No one enters.” One stated.

Arakaes grit his teeth. “I’m here to release my Lord.”

“The god Anak’thas is unwell. Benea will cure him. Leave now or suffer the consequences.” The Paladin said.

“I can’t do that.” Arakaes said. “I can’t do that. I heard the calling of my god and I will answer it!” He reached out with his hand and felt the divine power of Anak’thas coursing through his arm. A mote of silver formed in his hand and shot forward. The Paladin had fought the supernatural before though. With a swift move of his shield, the silvery mote was deflected, and carnage broke out.

The people of Anak’thas rushed forward, only to be met with the deft and skillful spears of the Paladins. Three people died in an instant. Arakaes rushed forward too with his khopesh sword raised. He hewed into the shield of the Paladin with a silver flash but the Paladin gave him a kick to send him flying backward. The two locked into combat. One possessed with a zeal and fervor matched only by the skill and experience of the Paladin. Until one made a misstep.

Arakaes slipped on the blood of his people and fell. The Paladin wasted no time. With one def stab to Arakaes’ back he finished the fight. Arakaes screamed out in pain, and then felt nothing. Nothing at all. With utter horror he turned to look at his legs. He bid them to move. To do something! Nothing. With wild eyes he turned to look at his people who were still fighting the Paladins. Neither side were gaining ground, but Arakaes saw a little space in between the two fierce warriors.

Only Eiros – frightful Eiros – could fit through it. “Eiros!” Arakaes bellowed. “Finished it! Free him!” Right then the old man found the eyes of the young lad holding a dagger. He was their only hope now. Only Eiros would be able to slip through. A spark lit up in the young man’s eyes. This was it. He rushed forward, ducked low, and pushed away one shield.

The spear flashed before Arakaes for only a second. But it stopped Eiros in his tracks. A spurt of blood coated the side of the wall of the temple, as the young man fell down on his knees. “Eiros!” Arakaes yelled out. The old man’s heart sunk. Then Eiros fell down forward. Bloodstained his white robes.

With desperate tears, Arakaes turned towards the pedestal upon which the copper box stood. In there was his Lord. His god that gave him this faith. The two Paladins paid him no mind. Why should they? He was already feeling weaker. Blood flowed out of him like a creek. In only a few counts he’ll lose consciousness.

A few counts he still had then. With only his arms he began to drag himself across the corpses of his slain people. His legs were nothing but a burden now. He hated them so intensely. If he could cut them off now, he would. There was no time for that now though. Arakaes grunted every time he pulled himself forward. Until he reached the pedestal. It towered over him. At first, with one hand, he tried to push it over. No chance. It was far too heavy. Behind him the fighting continued. Arakaes didn’t look back. He couldn’t waste any moment to that, to doubt. He reached upwards with one hand and grabbed a corner of the pedestal, then with his other hand he reached up again. With all the might he could muster he pulled himself up the hateful pile of chiseled stone. Cursing with every move. Again he reached higher until finally, he could pull himself up to the level of the copper box. With one, last, desperate shove he pushed the box off. His limp, useless body fell down on the pedestal in its place. Only then did Arakaes realize that the box was still closed with a latch.

Again he reached out, with a blood-drenched arm. The box was already beyond his reach. Even if the world seemed to move slower. He didn’t want to open the latch himself. He couldn’t. Instead he bid everything, the world, the spirits, anything that would answer his last, death plea. It was answered by a small silver flash upon the latch, and the crack it created.

The box fell down. The shock from it broke the latch completely and as it fell over, the top of the box fell open. Out rolled a crystalline lantern that lit up brightly the second it was freed. It was the last thing Arakaes saw and it was beautiful.

A moment later and Anak’thas took shape laying on the ground. He gasped as if for air to draw into his non-existing lungs. He looked up, trying to grasp the situation. One of Benea’s Paladins saw it happen and wasted no time. He pulled back his spear and stabbed down into the god. Anak’thas yelled out in pain as the spear pierced his newly formed corporeal flesh. The spear hit him perilously close to his Lantern.

The Paladin pulled the spear back and again tried to stab down upon Anak’thas. This time the god grabbed the spear and directed the trust into his own arm. Again he screamed out. But he bought enough time. The people behind the Paladin were shocked at first to see their god take form again. But when they saw the Paladin attack him they all rushed forward. They grabbed the man by his armor and shield to drag him back. The people, seemingly possessed by demons, threw themselves upon the Paladin and started stabbing with wild abandon at his arm. Some even bit down with their teeth as they wretched the arm away from their God.

In seconds the flesh of the Paladin was stripped away, and with a wet flop his right arm fell down from his body. The people continued to savage him as Anak’thas rose up. The other Paladin, despite seeing the horror subjected upon his brother, stood his ground against the mob of zealots. That was, until he caught a glimpse of Anak’thas who reached out for the man. He tried to turn towards the god but not in time. The distraction was enough. The people took him too. They dragged him down to the ground with no regard for their own lives. The favored Paladin managed to take three more zealots with him, but eventually he too died from a thousand cuts and stabs.

“Where are my Laws?” Anak’thas asked. “Where are my weapons?”

---

One Paladins, against a horde of untrained zealots. Some of which wielded strange, silvery magics. By all rights, the Paladin should’ve been killed already but the man didn’t think about that right now. He thought about holding out. Before him laid eight corpses of the fools that fought him. His own spear was broken though. He was down to his sword but he would take another eight easily before he would give in. Except he didn’t. The people began to chant.

“He has return! He has returned! He has returned!”

They pulled back from the small room in which an unassuming chest was kept. The Paladin didn’t lower his shield though. Oh no, he would stand and fight anything and anyone that came through the opening of that battered door.

What stepped forward was not just anyone though. It was Anak’thas himself. Fear gripped the Paladin’s heart. Only with Benea could he fight a god. Alone, well he was only mortal. For a second he wanted to drop his shield and sword but then he raised it up again. If he was going to die, he would die with his weapons raised. He would die loyal to Benea. To the very end!

“You’re a brave man to face me.” Said Anak’thas.

It wasn’t a fight. Not really. The Paladin’s shield laid crumbled like a leaf to the side. The man’s helmet was split in twain. His spear – he tried to use half of it still – was now nothing but splinters now and Anak’thas had pierced him with his own sword.

“You fought. You lost. Now rest. Whatever duty you felt you had to my sister, you’ve fulfilled it.” Said the god as he released his embrace of the mortal. The Paladin, still with his sword straight through him, tried to step forward. To grab Anak’thas and do.. something!? But there was only so much his torn-up body could physically do. With small move was enough. His legs collapsed and he fell backward. Though he clung to life for as long as he could.

A dark and shallow breath parted from the Paladin's lips. "You will doom the world with your actions… it was seen…"

Anak’thas, for his part, had already turned towards the chest and opened it. Inside were his tools. His hammer and chisel. Slowly but with purpose, he put on the bracers, and then turned around to face his faithful. “From the bottom of my heart, I thank you.”

“We will fight for you my lord!” Said Meneos. “We’ll kill every last traitor so you can take back the land!”

“I see your passion. Yes, yes you will.” Said Anak’thas, who sounded far less spirited than his own followers now. “But not now. You can fight, but your children? Your family? Should they? No. Nobody should suffer if they did not take up the sword themselves. Hear me! I will travel east to tame the chaos there and claim the node. It will be our sanctuary. If you have loved ones, tell them to leave tonight. In two days hence the chaos will be cleared and they can make their final trek. With that, they should have enough time to stay ahead of my treasonous sister.”

“What about us? What about your land here?” Asked one of the Faithful.

“On the tenth night, I will return. Be ready then, my warriors. My Faithful. There will be war. There will be more of enemies. Her Paladins. There will be more traitors. Study my gift – the silver faith – and train. When I return, I will call upon all of you.” The god looked up at the many faces that had begun to congregate here.

“Who will fight against my sister?” Asked Anak’thas to all of them.

The people looked around as if they weren’t sure about the answer. But old Meneos knew. “Only the Chosen!” He bellowed.

“Who will be my light in the dark?”

“Only the Chosen!”

“Who will wield my gift?”

“Only the Chosen!”