The scent of the soul led the beast, over the oceans once more and onto the continent of Kalgrun, an unfamiliar land but a land the beast must go. It moved through the night sky, following the scent quickly before it was inevitably led back to the ground, following the path of the thief nearly perfectly. When its massive paws hit the ground, the creature stalked upon the ground, flicking its tail occasionally as it moved through a forest. While it may have once gotten bored and killed a small animal for fun, Ya-Shuur had taught it only to kill when hungry which made the beast ignore many smaller creatures.
It eventually happened upon a beach of a large lake, the way to Hunter’s Eye, but the water did not stop the creature of Vakk. The water was merely ground and it walked across it with ease, the fragile tension of the water being untouched by it. Soon enough, the scent lead it to the coast of Hunter’s Eye and the being was unaware that it had stepped onto more holy ground. It followed the coast, leaving massive pawprints in the ground as it eventually came to an area where Hermes had stopped. There was a moment of pause with the creature as it began to sniff the air around the spot, attempting to determine which direction the thief had gone.
The Hunter was not alone.
Across the water, another shape, and a new scent appeared. A colossal wolf with dark black fur. As he approached, Fenris stared at the Hunter and let out a menacing growl. Fenris knew the beast was unfamiliar. It did not even carry Kalmar’s scent, it was not native to this region, and he had not been told to grant it passage. It did not belong here. It had to be driven out.
The Hunter’s head snapped towards the direction of the growl, its tracking halted for the time being. Something dared to challenge the hunter. In response, the beast raised the spikes on its back and unsheathed its claws before letting out a bastard noise of a growl and a hiss. Its fangs were pointed right at Fenris before it slammed the club of its tail on the ground, displaying its own stubborn dominance.
Fenris was unphased. He was larger, and, he assumed, more powerful. The Guardian of the Hunter’s Eye continued his menacing approach, teeth bared as he continued his low growl. This was his home, and his purpose was to guard it. He would not submit.
Despite the size of Fenris, the Hunter continued its display, backing away as Fenris attempted to come closer. The Hunter let out of bark warning the wolf to back away from interfering with its work. For a singular moment did the beast look away to consider retreating before it let out another bark at Fenris.
Fenris barked back, even louder. He inclined in a direction away from the lake. The message was clear. He would accept nothing less than the Hunter’s retreat or surrender.
It growled before it dug its feet into the sand, flicking its tail towards the spot the Hermes had fished at. The Hunter did not know if Fenris would be able to smell the trail the thief’s soul had left, but it could not retreat without giving up the hunt. Its loyalty to Vakk’s orders was not going to be questioned and the resolve of the Hunter would not break. A roar was let out in a final attempt to end the conflict before blood would be shed between the two.
Fenris did not care. In response to the Hunter’s roar, the Guardian charged, surging across the water with immense speed and aggression.
The Hunter took to the air, leaping onto unseen ledges and inclines with great speed as well, yet it was not retreating. It moved towards Fenris, still gaining altitude before eventually allowing itself to free fall towards the massive wolf.
Fenris leapt up to meet the Hunter. Although it could not defy gravity, the speed from his charge and his powerful legs allowed him to reach the same height, putting the two on a collision course.
Yet, the smaller hunter leapt out of the way of the collision, landing on some invisible ground before it pounced onto the passing Fenris. The Huner’s claws dug into Fenris as teeth began to stab into skin and it away. The attack was nearly insignificant Fenris, but the determined hunter held on for dear life.
As they fell, Fenris rolled in mid-air so that his belly faced the sky. With the Hunter clinging to his back, he intended to ensure that the smaller creature would take the impact first, and then be pinned by his vast weight.
With a split second of instinctual thought, however, the Hunter saw the water not as something to plunge in to, but as a ground that Fenris would surely shatter it against. It lead to the Hunter disengaging from Fenris and using the beasts back to jump away from being crushed, but a bit too late to slow down as the creature still hit the water with force, though not so crushed by the weight of the wolf. The Hunter let out a loud yelp as it skipped along the water only once before it treated the water like earth once more.
Fenris too landed as if the water was solid ground, and quickly recovered. Lightning quick, he rolled back onto his feed and began charging toward the Hunter as it was still recovering itself. Which only gave the intruder enough time to get to its feet and attempt to spin, accomplishing nothing for Fenris had been anticipating some sort of clever maneuver.
The wolf stopped short just before it reached the Hunter, and only after the Hunter finished its movement did Fenris strike, jaw opening as he lunged at the beast. The Hunter could only respond by leaping at Fenris’ face, aiming to attack the wolf’s eyes before the two met with tooth and nail.
Fenris’s jaws closed around the lower half of the Hunter’s body, the long razor sharp teeth biting through the smaller canine’s flesh. It was then that one of his eyes came under assault, as the Hunter desperately scratched and clawed. But Fenris did not relent. The pain only made him bite down even harder. He flailed his head left and right, ripping the Hunter’s flesh even further.
Then, finally, the pain became too much. With a mighty heave, Fenris flung the mangled Hunter across the lake, sending it soaring, but he did not pursue it further. Half his vision was gone. His right eye was a ruin, crushed and scratched, hanging from a gaping socket. He threw his head back and let out an anguished howl.
The Hunter skipped across the water upon landing, the lower portion of its body bloodied to a rather alarming notion. However, free from the grasp of Fenris it did its best to do a limping run away from the massive wolf as he dealt with his ruined eye. The Hunter knew, at the very least, of what path it must take now, but it knew it would need to heal for some time which would serve to slow its progress. Yet, the time now was to retreat, moving away from the Hunter’s Eye and towards a different area of Kalgrun.
It ran and ran, unknowing if Fenris was still following until it collapsed upon the ground, exhausted and the adrenaline of the fight wearing thin. The Hunter let out a low whine before it looked around for its adversary, who was nowhere to be seen. Vakk’s beast let out a low sigh before it began to lick its own wounds. These wounds would be with it for a good while, but that would not stop it from completing its task.
Its task would be delayed even further.
There was a whistling from above, the sound of something falling from great height, and suddenly the Hunter was struck directly in the head. Its vision darkened, and everything went black. Little did the hunter know: it had not been something, but instead… someone.
Kalmar stood before the unconscious beast, his expression one of puzzlement. He had been wandering Kalgrun when he heard Fenris howl, and he rushed to the wolf’s aid only to find that it was missing an eye and the attacker had fled. Naturally, he tracked the trespasser in the direction it had fled, and was surprised at what he saw. He had not made this. And there was no trace of Phystene on it. Why was it here? Why had it went to the Hunter’s Eye? Why had it fought Fenris? Who sent it?
There was only one way to find out. He pressed a hand against the beast’s forehead. In its unconscious state, any resistance would easily crumble. He began to sift through its memories, most of which had been of a relentless search, until finally he reached the beginning. A memory of a creature… no, a god, the very same god who was said to have attacked Li’Kalla.
Vakk.
It was he who created this monster. But it had not been for the purpose of invading Kalgrun, no, for Kalgrun had merely been one step on its journey.
It was searching for Hermes, who Vakk called a thief.
Before he could even ponder as to why, he heard yet another howl, once again from Fenris. Another intruder?
He hurried back, leaving the beast where it fell.
The Hunter continues to follow Hermes’s trail, eventually reaching the Hunter’s Eye - the lake where Kalmar first taught her how to fish.
He sniffs around for some time, but he is not the only beast in the area. Fenris takes notice of his presence and moves to confront him. After an intense staredown, the two beasts fight. During the fight, the Hunter’s lower half is mangled, forcing it into a retreat, but Fenris is unable to pursue because he lost one of his eyes.
The Hunter successfully escapes, and although it is wounded and weakened, it will continue the search.
Then a wild Kalmar appears, jumping the creature and knocking it out. He sifts through its memories to find that it is looking for Hermes. He wonders why, but before he can do anything else, Fenris’s howl calls him back to the Hunter’s Eye.
The night sky shimmered with the flickering light of stars. The sound of the wind whispering through the trees, coupled with the occasional calling of nocturnal birds gave the coniferous forests of Kalgrun a peculiar but beautiful ambience that could very well be dubbed “nature’s singing voice”.
It was this gentle voice that slowly brought to wakefulness the unconscious form that had so suddenly appeared amidst the trees and bushes of the island in the middle of Hunter’s Eye. The being shifted and moved as it lay there on the cold and lumpy soil. Its long, black hair was damp and clinging to its body, which upon a closer inspection identified the being as female.
And then her eyelids, which until this time were drooping and leaden with sleep, suddenly snapped open, followed by a deep inhalation somewhat akin to a drowning person desperately clutching for air to breathe. Her eyes darted around from tree to bush to rock and back, never staying on one thing for more than a few seconds. She suddenly felt an intense urge to run away, but soon realized, to her dread, that her body would not obey her commands. Her muscles felt stiff and unresponsive, and her head pounded with the most unbearable of headaches. She moaned in pain as she forcefully willed her body to turn around from where she lay.
Now on her stomach, she slowly brought her arms forward, one at a time, and started dragging herself towards a closeby tree. Even with crawling as she was, she could not help but stop multiple times in order to catch her breath and recollect herself, the pain dangerously threatening to overwhelm her.
After what seemed an eternity to her, she managed to sit up by the tree, her back leaning on it for support. She had to look twice to make sure she didn’t carry two logs instead of arms, that’s how heavy they felt to her. The woman sat there, gasping for air, the only thing she could realistically do without feeling much pain. She looked around, taking in her surroundings. The forest canopy emerged as a towering beast above her, a beast with countless twisted and squiggly branches for arms and thick roots for feet. She stayed quiet for the most part as she tried to grasp the situation she had found herself in.
In the distance, a low, pained howl could be heard, drowning out all other sounds. It went on for quite some time, and when it stopped, the forest was completely silent. The woman’s head snapped towards the direction of the howl’s origin, while her heart started beating faster. The first thought that came to her mind was to get up and run away as far away as possible, but that would be unrealistic; she reckoned she could barely stand up as she was, much less run. But then the howl emerged in her mind once more, and the woman was subconsciously moved by its uniqueness. As if it was calling out to her, somewhere inside of her she could weirdly identify with the being that would let out such a sound, for both of them were wounded, both of them were in pain.
After a few moments of consideration, the woman gritted her teeth and, whilst clutching the tree behind her, slowly pushed herself up into a standing position. When she let go of the tree, she teetered dangerously but soon found her balance. With shaky steps, the woman started to slowly walk towards the direction the howl had come from.
The forest began to thin as she neared the destination until finally, she stepped out of it completely. In front of her was a beach, and at the far end of that beach lay a beast hundreds of times her size. It was a massive wolf, with dark fur. Slowly, it lifted its head and turned toward her. One of its eyes was missing, the surrounding flesh was torn and scratched, blood dripping from the empty socket. The wolf tried to growl, but instead, the growl turned into a high pitched whine, and it set its head back down.
It wouldn’t be an understatement to say that she would be abjectly terrified by the sheer size of the thing if it wasn’t for the fact that its current appearance was equally as pitiful as it was intimidating. What could possibly injure such a beast? The woman audibly gulped before she hesitantly started walking towards the giant wolf.
The wolf’s remaining eye watched her every step with wariness, and the beast let out another whine, but it did not move an inch. Perhaps it recognized that she was not a threat, or perhaps there was simply no fight left in it.
It was only when she’d finally reached the wolf’s location that she was able to really gauge its size. It was, well, huge. From afar when she first saw it, it did look large but not as large as it looked from up close. Its head was almost the size of a large boulder with how tall it was. The woman looked at the wolf’s uninjured eye for any signs of aggression but there were none. Feeling an inexplicable boost of confidence, she reached out and gave the beast a shaky pet on its head.
The wolf’s fur felt soft to the touch and the more she petted it, the more she felt like rubbing herself all over it. She slowly descended with her hands towards the front of the wolf’s head, petting behind its ears, or what parts she could realistically reach from where she was standing. She refrained from touching the injured parts of its face, the gruesome wound coupled with the beasts warning growl when her hands strayed a little too close for comfort sending a good enough message to her to stay away from that specific place.
The woman moved closer to the wolf, coming to kneel beside it. With one hand on top of its snout, she looked at its sole, uninjured eye. “Seems like you and me both have seen better days, haven’t we?”
“Have you?” a gruff voice interjected.
The suddenness of the voice nearly gave the woman a heart attack. She miraculously jumped up like a spring despite her body being exhausted as it was and scurried a few meters away forward before dropping back down, her tired body catching up with her racing heart. Turning her head around, she laid her eyes upon the origin of the unannounced voice.
Standing behind her was a blond-haired man with a thick moustache, dressed in animal pelts with a cloak of black fur. One hand gripped a bow, while the other was empty. He eyed her warily. “The Goddess of Darkness,” he observed.
“W-wha-who?” She subconsciously let out as she moved closer to the wolf, figuring that the size of the beast would be enough of a deterrent for the man to not approach her further.
“I’ve been meaning to speak with you,” the man said, his brow furrowing. “I am Kalmar. The God of The Hunt,” he introduced himself with a nod.
The woman processed his words in her brain for a few moments, repeating his name. “Kalamar, Kalar,Kalmar,” she muttered a few times as she memorized the name of the person in front of her. “Kalmar,” she said once again, with more confidence this time, yet still keeping a guarded stance.
“Okay,” she called out at him. “It would be best you didn’t come closer, Kalmar. This beast here is injured and deadly. I would suggest you slowly left this area and went back to where you came from, else who knows what might happen to you,” she told him after some thought.
Kalmar gave her an amused smirk. “Melantha, you’re more of a threat to me than he is. I’m the one who created him.” The smirk faded. “Why are you here?”
Now that was a shocking revelation. That man was the one responsible for the creation of this gigantic beast? She felt conflicted as her brain and her body told her two different things.
Her brain urged her to move away from the wolf, since if the man told the truth it could mean he could order it to attack her at any moment, yet at the same time her body did not want to leave its vicinity; she had practically hidden herself inside the wolf’s thick fur, with her head being the only thing revealing where she was. “Who is Melantha?” she asked him in the end. “I assure you I am not a threat to you or your little friend here if what you are saying about creating him is true after all…”
Kalmar frowned, his expression shifting to disapproval. “Is this an act? You are Melantha. We were all given an understanding of each other when we were first brought to this world. I know who you are, and you know who I am.”
“No, I don’t know who you or ‘we’ are. I woke up in this forest, alone and hurt. I heard this beast howling from afar and so I came here to see what was happening. I didn’t expect to find something like this, however…” She replied, her expression softening a little as she remembered the wolf’s wound and the pain it conveyed with its howls.
Kalmar’s frown deepened. “You woke up in the forest… where were you before that?” he asked curiously.
”Before? Before that I was… I was…” The woman tried to remember, but alas she could not. At that moment, the splitting headache from before that had by now abated came back with a vengeance. She moaned in pain and clutched her head with her hands, curling up into a ball and rolling out of the wolf’s fur. She writhed there as she lay on the ground, unable to make the headache stop.
One second and a few steps later, Kalmar was kneeling beside her, an expression of what seemed to be concern on his face. For a moment, he only watched, uncertain. Then, he removed his cloak and wrapped it around her.The bout of headache lasted for close to an hour in real time before alleviating, and it left the woman completely and utterly drained. She was from head to toe drenched in sweat, her breath shallow and ragged. Her eyes wandered around aimlessly as she tried to regain her senses. The first thing she felt as she stirred was something thick but soft covering her whole body. She slowly brought her arms out of the cover and over it and shifted to the right where she found herself face to face with a campfire. The dancing flames of the fire helped her focus, allowing her to sort her thoughts.
Kalmar was not far. He sat next to the fire as well, his bow resting on the ground next to him. In each hand he had a stick, and at the end of each stick was a fish. With a focused expression he held both over the fire, and the smell of cooked fish reached her nose. He looked over to her. “You’re awake,” he observed.
“Yes I am, and so are you,” she replied in a cutting manner. “Did you watch over me the whole time?” she asked, her eyes darting to the fish and back at him.
“Only most of it,” Kalmar shrugged. “I had to look away to make the fire, and to catch these,” he raised one of the sticks to indicate the fish. “I still need to talk to you.”
“Ugh,” the woman shifted back to lying on her back and looked at the stars in the night sky. “Talk, talk, talk… what is the point of talking? I can’t remember anything before my awakening in this place,” she said with a sad tone on her voice. “And you saw what happened when I tried to recall something. There’s no way I am doing more of that anytime soon…”
Kalmar was silent. Wordlessly, he pulled the sticks away from the fire, stood up and walked over to her, offering one of them. She grabbed it wearily and muttered thanks before sinking her teeth into the fish. Then, the Hunter spoke. “So you remember nothing? What if, instead of remembering, I told you?” he asked.
“Told me?” She questioned between bites. “And how do I know that what you say to me aren’t lies?”
”You don’t,” came the blunt response. The woman stopped and turned her head towards him, looking at him straight in the eyes. After a few moments, she sighed and turned back to eating. “I guess I don’t have much to lose by hearing you out. I want to learn what is going on as much as you do…”
“Before we came here, this land was just water,” Kalmar began, taking a bite out of his own fish. “Then the Architect brought us here, pulling in countless souls from elsewhere. For some reason, some of us stood out from the others, so he made us into gods. He gave us the ability to create and alter the world, and we did, but we each had a different name and a different purpose. Your name is Melantha, and you are the Goddess of Darkness.”
She listened as she ate, taking in the new information. The Architect? Souls? Gods? She did not recall anything of that sort. “So you say my name is Melantha?” She asked absentmindedly as she repeated the name in her mind just as she did with Kalmars. “Melantha, Melantha, Melantha… I like how it rolls off the tongue.” Melantha thought to herself with a small smile. She finished the last of the fish and threw the bones and stick into the fire before swallowing. “What is a god?”
“It is a good name,” Kalmar acknowledged, before deciding to address her more important question. “A god is a being that can shape the land and create life. This land that we are on now, I raised from the sea. And as I said, that wolf, Fenris,” he gestured to the massive form of the wolf, which was now fast asleep, “is also my creation. I made other things as well. You probably made things too, before you lost your memory, but I don’t know what.”
“Yeah no. I doubt I can raise land out of nothing like you claim you can,” Melantha said dismissively. She then turned her head towards the sleeping form of the wolf and looked at it for a few moments before turning back. “Show me,” she told him.
Kalmar frowned. “I won’t be raising another continent, if that’s what you’re expecting,” he said. “We have enough land already, and the last time took a lot out of me. But I can make something…” and with those words, he turned his back and stepped away from the fire. Closing his eyes, he concentrated.
The creature that materialized before him was similar one he had made before. It was half lion, half bird, and more than twice his size, but where the feathers would have normally been brown they were instead a shiny black. Perhaps that alone might have been enough to impress her, but he did not stop there. The creature began to grow, and grow, and grow until it was roughly half the size of the wolf.
Then, it stopped, and Kalmar opened his eyes. The giant griffin looked around, expanded its wings, and let out a screech that jolted Fenris awake. The wolf immediately rose and began growling at the strange creature, but Kalmar raised a hand. ”Down!” he ordered, and Fenris obediently laid back down.
If even the wolf was surprised by the appearance of the strange half-lion, half-bird beast, imagine Melantha’s surprise to see something so extraordinary happen right in front of her eyes. She never in a million years expected to be proven wrong in her assumption that Kalmar had been faking it all. And to top it all, the wolf’s obeisance to him, it staying down when ordered, also gave validity to what he said earlier about having created the beast.
Melantha was shooketh. She laid back down, trying to make sense of everything that she had experienced up until this point. From waking up alone inside a strange forest, having forgotten everything before that, to finding a giant injured wolf lying by the side of a lake, to meeting a strange man that claimed both he and her were superpowered beings with reality manipulating powers and finally finding out that all this was seemingly the truth and not some joke was a lot to take in.
She eventually stood up, fur cover and all, and walked towards Kalmar and the strange beast he had created. “What is it? Can I pet it?” She asked him curiously.
“A griffin,” Kalmar answered with a smile. “I’ve made them before, but not this big. It needs a name...” the Hunter stroked his chin, thinking.
Melantha tentatively put her hand on the griffin’s feathered neck and slowly petted the lion-bird. She found herself especially drawn into its dark feathers and how they would shine when reflecting the light from the stars in the night sky. “What about… Shynir?” Melantha suggested.
“It works,” Kalmar agreed. “Shynir it is…” And then his feet lifted off the ground, and he was floating. He reached out a hand to Melantha, clearly expecting her to grab on.
“What? You can’t expect me to get on that thing now, can you?” She told him with an incredulous look on her face. “No, I’m fine just looking at it, thank you very much.”
Kalmar frowned. “I could just leave without you,” he suggested with a shrug.
“And you would leave your wolf over there all alone and wounded? That doesn’t seem like something a responsible owner would do…” Melantha replied.
“Fenris is far stronger than he looks,” Kalmar countered. “He will be back to health soon enough.”
“Ugh, fine…” Melantha conceded in the end. Kalmar was seemingly intent on getting her to ride the griffin and she was running out of excuses to prevent it from happening. She reluctantly grabbed Kalmar’s hand and was immediately floated up and towards him. “Whoa,” she exclaimed as she saw the ground distancing itself from where she was.
“You have the power to do this yourself. I will show you later,” Kalmar informed her as they rose higher. He set her down on the griffin’s back and then sat down in front of her. “Hold on,” he advised.
“Hold on from where? This thing doesn’t exactly have much to hold on to” she complained as she got herself comfortable atop the griffin.
“To me,” he advised, with a slight shake of his head. “Alright,” Melantha said and put her hands on either side of Kalmar’s waist. “I’m ready,” she informed him.
Kalmar coughed. “Alright,” he said after a moment, trying to remember the griffin’s name. “Shynir, we head west!”
The griffin let out another screech, and with a flap of its wings it took off, much to Melantha’s dismay.
Melantha awakens on the Hunter’s Eye, in deep pain and lacking any memories. She hears a wolf howl and decides to investigate it. She finds Fenris, lying prone on a beach and missing an eye. She decides to comfort him, proceeding to pet him all over.
Kalmar interrupts the petting session and begins questioning her. When she claims she doesn’t know who she is, he asks her to remember where she was before she woke up. She tries to find out it only gives her a horribly bad migraine.
While she recovers, Kalmar wraps his cloak around her, builds a fire, and cooks some fish. When they speak again, Kalmar suggests that instead of her trying to remember, he could simply tell her about the ways of the world.
It quickly becomes apparent that Melantha isn’t just unaware of her own identity. She is also unaware of her own ability and doesn’t even seem to grasp the concept of what a ‘god’ is. Kalmar tries to explain it, but she doesn’t believe him, so he creates a giant griffin in front of her.
The Griffin took them high over Kalgrun, so that they could see for miles. Kalmar always felt a sense of pride when he viewed these lands from above. “This is Kalgrun. As I said, I made these lands,” he said to his passenger, glancing down at his recently created grasslands, where the animals now seemed as small as insects.
Melantha, for the most part, remained quiet during the flight, the only indicator to her thoughts being the constant squeezing of Kalmar’s clothes where she had put her hands on for stability. “Yeah..” she muttered, glancing from time to time at the ground miles below them.
In truth, Kalmar was not sure what to make of her. What had Asceal said? That she was mad? That she attacked her and Aelius? That description did not seem to suit the woman he met at all, and the implications were worrying.
Had Asceal lied to him? Was she merely trying to get him to perceive the Goddess of Darkness as an enemy because she was the Goddess of Light and therefore saw darkness as a threat? Or was there some other motivation in mind? Or was Melantha the one who was lying? Was this all some remarkably convincing act to manipulate him. Both were equally worrying, though the latter seemed more likely. It was also possible that Asceal was being entirely truthful, but whatever happened to Melantha made her a completely different person. There was no way to be sure.
What he did know was that there was something about Melantha that interested him. She had shown a remarkable survival instinct. When he appeared her first instinct had been to use the wolf for cover and as a deterrent to try to scare him away. She had shown some suspicion toward his story at first, and that Kalmar could also respect - he could only imagine what might have happened if someone other than him found her, and filled her head with lies. Yet there was also a certain gentle, cheerful nature to her - her first instinct had been to comfort the wolf, instead of running or harming it. That also indicated courage.
For now, he decided to believe that Melantha was being truthful. In which case, it was his responsibility to help her relearn what she had forgotten. And if Asceal’s words had been true, perhaps he could steer her down a different path this time.
“You don’t like heights?” he asked her offhandedly as they flew.
“Oh kind of you to notice…” she replied with a half mocking, half sarcastic tone on her voice.
“I should tell you that you’re a Celestial, then,” Kalmar said. “Your sphere, your home, is somewhere up there…” he pointed up at the night sky.
“Of course it would be… wait, I have a home?” Her expression quickly shifted from sulking to surprised. Although Kalmar had told her, as well as done, many would-be unbelievable things in a span of very few hours, the prospect of having a home of her own meant that there was a chance for her to find out what had happened to her after all. Maybe if she were to travel to that place, she would be able to find clues about why she couldn’t remember her past. “Do you know where that place is?” she asked him, the expectation on her face evident.
“No,” Kalmar answered with a slight shake of his head, an answer that made Melantha instantly deflate. “I have never been there, but I would assume it’s the darkest one, so it can’t be hard to find. You will need to learn to fly, though. Shynir can’t fly that high.”
“Fly… I don’t think I am cut out for that for some reason…” she muttered a short reply before regaining her previous silence.
“Fear is an obstacle like any other,” Kalmar told her. “It can be overcome, but only if you confront it. Fly enough, and you will stop being afraid of it. Stay on the ground, and you will never fly at all, which means you won’t reach your sphere.”
His words prompted Melantha to raise her head and look at the starry sky above, trying to discern anything that might pass as a sphere. “You talk about spheres but I don’t see anything floating up there. Do you have to do anything special for them to ap-” her last few words faded into nothing as a very bright and colourful object streaked through the night sky, coming from behind them. “Oh, that…” Melantha was taken aback by its sudden appearance.
Kalmar noted her surprise. “That is the Lustrous Garden,” he explained to her. “It is home to Asceal, the Goddess of Light.” He glanced back at her to study her expression, curious at how she might react. “How does it make you feel?”
How does it make me feel? Melantha thought about his question as she gazed upon the object flying high above them. “It’s… beautiful,” she admitted in the end. Especially the long tail that it left behind as it moved across the sky, its colours elicited a sense of childlike wonder in Melantha that she never really thought she would come to feel after all that had happened to her, and everything she’d come to know, in the last few hours.
That was the last answer Kalmar had expected. He glanced up at it and observed it in silence. Beauty? He had always seen as nothing more than an asset - something that stood along the stars to provide light at night. Yet now… with her words, he found himself looking at it in a different way. “Yes it is,” he realized aloud.
A strange silence prevailed after Kalmar’s remark as they both looked at the Lustrous Garden, admiring it. Melantha was the one to break that silence, however. “So, what were you doing before you found me?” she asked him, trying to learn more about this strange man in front of her.
“Before I found you?” Kalmar repeated her words, thinking. “As you know, Fenris was wounded. I tracked down the creature that wounded him, so I could find out why it attacked. It was Fenris’s howl that made me come back, and that’s how I found you.”
“Yes, and I will have you know it was very rude to announce your presence like you did,” Melantha reminded him.
“Wouldn’t it have been ruder to continue spying on you during what you thought was a private moment?” Kalmar asked, and then shrugged apologetically. “Sorry, I’m not an expert on these things. I’ve already offended another god in the past for speaking at the wrong time.”
“Hmm, I guess you have a point there…” she said with a thoughtful look on her face. Did you end up finding be beast that wounded your wolf?” she asked, continuing her faux interrogation.
“I did,” Kalmar said gravely. “It was sent by Vakk, the God of Speech, to track down a mortal I once met in the area. If you ever meet this Vakk, do not trust him,” Kalmar advised seriously. He did not know why Vakk believed Hermes was a thief, and even if that was true, there was still the attack on Li’Kalla to consider.
“Vakk huh,” she repeated the name in her head. “What does he look like?” she asked. Although with how I am right now I doubt I would be able to do anything more than run anyway…
“Like a very large worm, or a snake. About the size of Fenris,” Kalmar answered. “You were right to be suspicious of me. I’ve been nothing but truthful to you, but if another god had found you instead, they might have lied. Not all of the gods have good intentions.”
“And what about your intentions…” Melantha questioned hesitantly.
“My intentions for what? You, or the world?” Kalmar asked her in return.
“Chiefly about helping me. To be honest, I still hold my doubts over your whole explanation about me being a goddess, but we’ve at least established that you do have mystical powers of some sort. I am pretty sure that I wouldn’t be able to escape you if you were to attack me when you found me, so the next obvious step is to come with you and see where all this takes me…”
“My intentions are simple,” Kalmar explained. “You are a deity, just like me. Your power is roughly equal to my own, even if you have forgotten how to use it. Your loss of memory is just a temporary setback for you. I will help you figure out how to use your power again, and also make sure you know what you need so you can use your powers sensibly. Too many other gods use their powers destructively or without thought. If I can prevent you from going down that path, or from falling victim to a god who already has, that will be best for everyone.”
Listening to Kalmar, Melantha tried to figure him out. His stern and serious expression indicated that he was a man that stayed true to his convictions, which meant that he was a trustworthy ally to those he chose to help. And from his words, it seemed that he meant no harm towards her, at least for the foreseeable future. “Alright, I guess I will trust you with this. I do want to know more about this world, that one thing I am certain of…”
Once she had made up her mind, Melantha felt a certain weight come off her shoulders, the tense feelings she didn’t know were there alleviating somewhat. She subconsciously shuffled closer to Kalmar, now her arms going fully around his waist, her hands locking her in place behind him. With the cloak Kalmar had given her to wear enveloping her, she gazed at the scenery beneath them they flew over the grasslands of Kalgrun.
For a moment, Kalmar tensed as he felt her arms wrap further around him. Then, he began to relax. He closed his eyes. The wind in his hair. Melantha’s arms around him. The beating of Shynir’s wings. He fell into a peaceful silence, and the griffin carried them on.The sun had begun to rise, night giving way to day, and a vast range of mountains came into view. As they drew closer, Melantha and Kalmar began noticing other griffins. Their size was minuscule compared to Shynir, but they were just as graceful. “What do you think of Kalgrun?” he asked her, finally breaking his silence.
“I am not really one to ask since I don’t have many points of reference, but from what I have seen thus far it seems you’ve put great care into developing these lands. It shows in abundance I would say,” she replied. “What I am more interested in, however, is that thing over there,” she added and gestured towards the rising sun. “What is that?”
“That’s… Heliopolis, I think it’s called. It is why we have day. Without it, it would be only night,” Kalmar told her.
“Hmm, it’s too… bright,” she said after some consideration. For some reason, she felt her eyes acting up whenever she looked towards that thing, something akin to a phantom pain emerging from someplace behind them. She squinted her eyes and moved her head behind Kalmar to shield herself from the sun’s rays.
Kalmar could sense the movement behind him, and he suspected she was shielding herself. “That’s to be expected,” he noted aloud. “You are the Goddess of Darkness, so it’s natural that would bother you. Asceal has the day, while you have the night. Both have their strengths and weaknesses, but there needs to be balance.”
“You’ve been saying that for some time now,” Melantha noted. “Darkness seems somewhat vague of a description to be honest. How exactly am I to know how to control such powers when I don’t even know where to start from…” she complained.
“I won’t be of much help in teaching you how to use your powers specifically in relation to darkness,” Kalmar said to her, “you will have to master that on your own. But I can teach you where to start.” For a moment he paused, and then suddenly he asked, “are you ready to learn how to fly?”
“No,” Melantha blurted without thinking. However, she then remembered how she had decided to trust Kalmar with helping her and found herself with a dilemma. Face her fear with the help of Kalmar, or stay safe while never experiencing the sensation of flying all by herself. Truthfully, she did not feel ready at all, but she nevertheless assented that it was something she had to go through with it the end. “Scratch that, I meant yes,” she corrected herself with a determined look on her face.
Kalmar smiled thinly. “Good. Remember this: you are a Goddess. The rules of nature that bind creatures like Shynir and Fenris do not have to apply to you. You only need to will that you do not fall, and you won’t. So, jump off the griffin and fly.”
For a moment, Melantha’s eyes darted between Kalmar’s back, the griffin’s back, and the empty space below. Steeling her nerves, she slowly released her hold on Kalmar and started moving backwards until she was a good few meters away from him and very carefully stood up. Thankfully the griffin, Shynir, was pretty large and thus she had enough space to maneuver herself around.
“Tie that cloak tighter,” Kalmar advised. “The wind might rip it away.” The cloak was of no real value to him, in truth, but he had it for so long that he still did not wish to see it needlessly lost.
“Ha ha, very funny…” Melantha mock laughed at his words as she tightened the knot at the waist of the cloak, but unbeknownst to him, what he said had somewhat helped her relax. Yes, this is something you can do. Just… will it and it will happen… just…
And then she jumped. For a few seconds, Melantha did not do anything but simply feel the wind on her skin as she cut through the air, falling towards the ground below. However the trance she found herself in quickly wore off and anxiety took its place when she realized she could not stop.
“FLY,” she shouted repeatedly out loud, with no response. “UH MOVE, GLIDE, STOP, STOP NOW, STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP...” Melantha’s shouting devolved into panicked screaming as she found herself unable to do as Kalmar had instructed. She watched on helplessly at the ground rapidly rushing towards her.
After Melantha had jumped, Kalmar had followed, falling with her. He pursed his lips in disappointment at her failure. Then, just before she hit the trees, he swooped down and grabbed her, activating his own flying abilities as he wrapped his arms around her waist. He said nothing as he looked at her, his expression neutral.
She was at a loss for words. Melantha silently hung her head in shame, a feeling of failure overwhelming as well as surprising her. Somehow, after spending some time with Kalmar, she’d come to take his view of her as something of value, and thus failing in his eyes struck a particular chord with her that she didn’t know she had.
Kalmar lowered her until they passed the canopy of the forest and their feet touched the ground. Only then, as he let her go, did he speak. “When trying something for the first time, you may not succeed,” he said to her. “But if you keep trying, eventually you will learn.”
“Yeah, I guess that is true…” she said with a nod, but the sadness on her tone was evident. She looked around at the place where they had landed. “Where are we now?”
“The western side of the continent, near the mountains,” Kalmar told her. “I brought Shynir here so he could protect it, and use it as his home.”
Melantha watched as the massive griffin circled in their air above them before promptly coming down and landing on a nearby clearing. “Protect it from who?” she asked curiously.
“Anything that might cause senseless destruction,” Kalmar answered. “As I said, there are gods who use their powers destructively and without thought. I can’t be everywhere at once to stop them, so I create beings like Fenris and Shynir to watch over things when I’m not there.”
“If deities are as powerful as you claim, with reality manipulating powers, then I don’t think Shynir will be enough to stop them from destroying something once they’ve set their eyes upon it, Melantha reasoned. “Size evidently doesn't mean everything,” she added.
“He won’t,” Kalmar agreed. “But if another god creates a beast of their own, and sends it to cause destruction in their stead? Shinyr can fight that, as Fenris fought Vakk’s monster. And if a god does make an appearance, my creations can warn me so I can deal with it.”
Melantha walked around, feeling the ground beneath as she moved with her bare feet. Surprisingly, her body had mostly recovered from whatever had happened to her prior to losing her memories and ending up in the situation she was when she awakened on Kalgrun. Her limbs and muscles did not feel as stiff as they used to, and her head, not counting when she tried remembering things, was mostly pain-free. “So, what now? Do you have anywhere we can stay? Some kind of shelter?”
“There might be a cave somewhere in the mountains,” Kalmar answered, thinking. She was probably hoping to get out of the light. “But before we look… do you need clothing?”
“Clothing? Honestly, I have not felt neither cold nor heat as long as I’ve been awake so the cloak did little for me besides covering my body,” Melantha replied as she looked at the garment he had given her to wear. “I don’t understand why covering yourself with animal furs would be more comfortable than simply being as is,” she added.
“We don’t need clothing because our power already protects us from the elements,” Kalmar told her and shrugged. “But some gods find it more comfortable to wear clothing anyway. For me, the skins I wear are from animals I have killed myself, to mark what I have done. I only asked if you needed clothing because I wanted to know if we should make some.”
“Well, I don’t really need them, but making something sounds pretty interesting so I guess It won’t hurt to try it. Who knows, I might change my mind while doing so.
“We will hunt for it, then,” Kalmar said, pulling his bow off his back. “I will show you how to use a bow. Watch.”
With that, the Hunter turned away from her and drew an arrow. Carefully, he notched it into the string. Then he raised the bow, pulled the string back, and released. The arrow struck a nearby tree with a sharp crack! Then Kalmar turned to her and held the bow out for her to take, along with another arrow.
Melantha watched Kalmar’s actions step by step, from the pulling of the string to the stance he took, to the timing and finally the release of the arrow, taking in everything that she could learn. Then, when he offered her the bow and arrow to try, she grabbed it and repeated everything she had seen. A few seconds later, an arrow was stuck right next to the one Kalmar had shot. “Is this good enough?” she asked with an innocent look on her face.
“Yes. Well done,” Kalmar said with an approving nod. “Come. It’s time to go hunting,” and with those words, he began walking in the direction of the mountains. Melantha put the bow over her shoulder, imitating how Kalmar had it before and started walking right behind him after throwing one last glance towards Shynir, waving him farewell with her hand.
Kalmar and Melantha fly through Kalgrun atop the griffin Shynir. During a conversation regarding her fear of heights, Kalmar informs her that she has a sphere, and proceeds to tell her what spheres are. Melantha then spots the Lustrous Garden in the sky and tells Kalmar it is beautiful.
Melantha then asks Kalmar what he was doing before he found her. He tells her about the Hunter’s attack against Fenris, and how it was sent to Vakk to track someone down. He then warns her that not all the gods are trustworthy.
She asks what his intentions are for her. He says he wants to help her relearn what she has forgotten, to bring her back to full power and teach her to use that power responsibly.
They reach the mountain, and Melantha is made uncomfortable by the sun. Kalmar tells her that there needs to be a balance between both light and dark. He then decides it is time for her to learn how to fly. Melantha is reluctant but eventually convinces herself to go along with it and jumps off the griffin.
She tries to fly, but it doesn’t work, so Kalmar has to catch her. When they land she is unhappy, but Kalmar tells her that she needs to keep trying. He tells her where they are, and how he intends for Shynir to watch over the western mountains of Kalgrun.
Kalmar then asks Melantha if she wants some clothing. Melantha doesn’t understand the point of it but decides to try it out. Kalmar shows her how to use his bow, and the two depart on a hunting trip.
“Steady!” Tong Lao murmured loudly through the dreadful torrent of lethal water pouring through the cracks in the wood and barkwork. They had finally managed to lean some planks up against the wall - soon, they would tip the planks to the side using wooden poles and, with Li Shan still in recovery, his apprentice, Tong Lao, sitting in a tall, tared wickerbasket, would be pushed over and begin to tie and hammer away until the plank stuck. Tong Lao felt a choking clump in his throat - already, three of his carpenters had had to be rescued from saltwater exposure. He stole a glance over at the three figures, all of whom were each tended to by two others who watered them and washed off the salt.
“We’re ready, sir,” said the man to his right holding the stick that would tip the plank.
Tong Lao took a deep breath. “Do it,” he said. The two reluctantly nodded and pushed. While the sudden sensation of floating freely in water was initially daunting, the carpenter could not allow himself to lose focus. Through sheer force of will, he kept his mind from succumbing to panic, even as the only barrier between him and death was one inch of old, tared straw. He peeked out of the basket and saw the approaching wall. A stinging pain bit into his foot like the fangs of a beast. He looked down and felt his heart freeze - the basket was giving out.
“SOMEONE GET ROPE! HE’S SINKING!” came the shouts from the outside. They were backed up by the hammers of panicking feet against wood, but Tong Lao felt himself grow strangely calm. As he felt the sand fall off his feet, he took in a deep, shaking breath.
Aah… So it would seem my time has come after all… Mei Hua, make certain our daughter grows up to serve His Lordship well… I’ll be swimming ahead.
Suddenly, the hammering stopped. Tong Lao turned his head slightly, searching for the sound again - had he died already? Then suddenly, the basket flipped backwards and crashed to the floor. Tong Lao clutched his head and crawled out onto the dry floor to see the--
Wait, dry floor?
He looked up to see his crew mates in a state of dumbstruck awe, some seemingly unable to move while others fell to their knees and hands. The crowd kept whispering prayers and praises to the Exalted Creators - though one specific name came up often.
“Her Holiness Ashalla watches over us!” one of them exclaimed.
“It’s a miracle! The Queen of the Ocean has blessed us with a miracle!” another one shouted roofward. Some sprinted upstairs to spread the word. Tong Lao laid on the floor, his eyes unblinking in the face of the sight: Where the crack in the hull had been less than a minute ago, there was now ice - crystalline, beautiful ice. Tong Lao felt his hands almost automatically fold together as he whispered a weeping prayer of gratitude to Ashalla.
“Oh, thank you, You blessed, most blessed sovereign of the sea,” he managed to squeeze through the hulking sobs of joy.
However, a gentle dripping sound brought him out of his euphoria and he spotted small droplets pitter and patter against the floor in front of him. He traced their origin back to the ice and let out a fearful gasp, pointing at it with a shaking finger.
“TH-THE ICE IS MELTING! QUICK, FETCH WOOD AND ROPE!”
His crewmates quickly broke out of their trances, too, scrambling to grab the materials and tools requires to bind and stuff the hole up properly. Cold moisture clung to everyone’s faces as they made certain not to break the ice during the repair. Eventually, enough cloth, rope, bark and planks had been stuffed into or wrapped around the hole that Tong Lao felt brave enough to say:
“I-... I think we did it.”
There were weary nods of consensus and joyous laughter around the carpenter group, all of them much too worn out to celebrate. Tong Lao squeezed the shoulder of the woman on his left, who gave him a tired smile.
“I will inform the captain. You have all deserved a rest.” The carpenters hummed and voiced their agreement, trekking further into the ship to sleep. Tong Lao looked at the former crack again and let out an agitated sigh of relief before he climbed back up on deck.
The deck was busy as ever, Tong Lao having considerable trouble making out the captain’s purple robes among the crew members zooming left and right with materials, water and sand. He tapped one of the least-looking passerbys on the shoulder.
“Pardon me, comrade, but would you happen to know where the captain is?”
The deckhand shrugged. “Heard ‘e was ‘eadin’ te shore. Said ‘e was goin’ te gather us some lumba’.”
Tong Lao nodded. “Thank you, comrade.” The deckhand nodded and continued his work. Well, seeing as the captain was no longer on board, perhaps he could pay his master a visit, Tong Lao thought. The man walked over to the central mast, the place he had last seen Li Shan. Upon arrival, he saw that he was still there, the stumps on his legs having grown a little longer. Tong Lao knelt down next to him in a seiza position and inclined his torso.
“Master… Are you awake?” he said gently, though firmly enough to be heard over the bustling deckwork.
The man in front of him opened his crusty eyes and his mouth formed a faint smile. “Lil’ Lao…” he whispered coarsely with a snicker. Tong Lao’s mouth straightened out and he looked down with squeezed eyes. He gave his left one a curt rub before looking back at Li Shan.
“Yeah… Yeah, it’s me. Are you well?” he asked. Li Shan lifted a quivering hand up to Tong Lao’s face, but could not seem to lift it high enough. The apprentice caught it and held it firmly. “Lil’ Lao…” the carpenter repeated faintly. Tong Lao squeezed his eyes shut again and held the hand so firmly he was certain it would break. After a moment, he loosened the grip again.
“I-... I have some good news. We managed to seal the breach - all thanks to the Queen of the Ocean. You should have seen it - one moment, there was water - the next, nothing! It was an unfathomable miracle! You’ll have to come down and inspect the work we did… Although I,” he snickered somberly, “I’m almost certain you will chew me out for it.”
Li Shan didn’t respond. His eyes had shut again and his head laid resting against the mast. The apprentice’s skin lost all colour and he shook his hand gently.
“M-master..? Master?! MASTER!”
Suddenly, he was pushed aside, losing his grip on Li Shan’s hand. “Please forgive us, Tong Lao,” said one of two women who had taken his place by the master carpenter. The speaker then began to pat sand Li Shan’s legs from a sack he had brought with him around while her partner slowly poured water into the carpenter’s mouth. The water bearer looked at Tong Lao with somber eyes.
“Forgive us, comrade. Master Li Shan has lost a lot of water. His spirit is very weak. We’re afraid we… We cannot promise that he will be the same when he recovers.”
Tong Lao slowly got to his feet and have the women a somber nod. “Keep up the good work,” he said with a cracking voice as he flicked away some tears. As he walked off to the stairway downwards, he shot a glance over at the shore.
Hopefully, the captain had been just as lucky as they had been.
Qiang Yi stepped off of the makeshift raft and onto the white beach of the Kick. He took a deep breath and savoured the familiar scent of jungle and moisture, yet found himself put off by the ominous lack of wildlife sounds, the only sound clouding the empty soundscape being the other crewmates pulling the raft onto the shore. The occasional bird squeak aside, the forest ahead was devoid of life. A cooling sensation irked him.
“We will gather what we came for and leave post-haste…” he said firmly. “Be wary of any movements in the foliage.” His crewmates can him a nod, and with axes and saws at the ready, the group entered into the woods.
The first trees to fall were the ones similar enough to the original tree used to make the frame for Zhengwu - visual similarity was, however, not a very adequate quality to assess from, so many of the initial planks were too soft. Qiang Yi picked one up, bent it slightly and shook his head in disapproval.
“No, this one will not do, either - look for an older tree. There may be some over there.” The servant nodded and followed Qiang Yi’s finger deeper into the woods. Qiang Yi stepped over some of the undergrowth and stopped next to a servant of the Strong who was busily chopping up a smaller palm. Qiang Yi eyed the tree and shook his head again. “That one may do for rafts, but little else. We will use the trunk to reinforce the raft we have, but afterwards you will move over there in search of larger trees.”
“Yes, captain,” said the sailor and kept chopping. Qiang Yi sighed and stepped further into the jungle. There were no rivers here, either - only creeks and becks between the tall and short trees. Had His Lordship not given any thought to this place? Had he perhaps considered it unworthy of his blessings? Perhaps…
Perhaps such a reason was linked to why everywhere was silent.
Qiang Yi felt his brow moisten. He turned back towards the shore, but not long had he walked before one of the sailors came running over to him.
“Captain!” he said and extended a hand. Qiang Yi nearly jumped out of his skin.
“Please, master Gong’er, don’t frighten me like--”
Qiang Yi’s eyes fell upon the material in his hand - or more specifically, the pile of material. It was black as the night, yet parts of it reflected light like a mirror - twinkling at alluringly at the two.
“What… What is this?” said Qiang Yi as he picked up a small, black grain. The sailor known as Gong’er shrugged and shook his head.
“We don’t known, captain. We found it by the hillside over there. Do you think it’s valuable?”
Qiang Yi rolled the black grain between his fingers, inspecting its every blinking surface. “It is quite heavy for its size, this grain. It may be related to gold.”
“To gold, captain?” Gong’er said excitedly. Qiang Yi nodded.
“Have the men make a wicker basket. We will gather as much as we can of this sand and bring it to His Lordship as a gift when we return home.” Gong’er nodded frantically while grinning and sprinted off into the foliage. Qiang Yi gave the grain in his hand one last lookover before flashing it a wry smirk and pocketing it. He then strolled back to the shore.
A few hours had passed and many trees had been felled and turned to planks. The raft they came on had been outfitted further with palm trunks and leaves. It was filled with planks and sawdust to the point where they had to paddle back to the ship twice. Qiang Yi stood on the shore, staring outwards across the sea past the ship. He took out his brush and gnawed lightly on the top of its handle.
He heard footsteps behind him and turned. Out from the woods came two sailors, Gong’er on the left and one known as Lai Lei on the right - between them was a tall wicker basket that seemed to nearly drag the two sailors down to the ground with it.
“By Nanhe’s delta, this stuff is heavy!” Gong’er exclaimed. The two put the basket down before Qiang Yi and the captain knelt down and ran his hand through the black sand, scooping up a handful and letting it drizzle down. He could not help but feel like there was something about this mineral - something potent.
“Stellar work, master Gong’er, master Lai Lei. Once we are back on the ship, make certain to store it safely so that it does not spill. His Lordship’s gift shall remain whole until he receives it - nothing less is acceptable.”
“Yes, captain!” the two sailors voiced simultaneously. Soon thereafter, the raft returned and the three men boarded. The were ferried back to the ship, and the raft was then tied behind it after use. As the crew zoomed back and forth, bringing the wounded below deck and the newly arrived materials to the damaged areas, Qiang Yi moved up to the helmspost. He scanned the deck. Slowly, but surely, the wounded crew members were restored to vitality, returning to their work.
“His Lordship certainly made us durable - when we’re not busy falling into the sea, that is,” came a voice from behind. Qiang Yi turned and felt his lips part in a smile. By the newly fashioned tiller that led to the fresh rudder sat the familiar bookworm, except that she was missing her book this time. She flashed Qiang Yi a playful grin.
Qiang Yi let out a gentle chuckle and nodded. His eyes fell on her left arm, its chalk-white sand gently contrasting her otherwise dark beige body. She followed his gaze and let out a snicker. “Right?” she added.
“Yeah… He certainly did.” He paused. “Where’s your book?” he asked.
Zhen-zhen shrugged. “Dunno. Might’ve gotten lost during the attack for all I know.” She straightened her back and bowed her head in respect towards Qiang Yi. “It doesn’t matter in the face of my duty, anyway.”
Qiang Yi’s smile faded a little and he walked over to place a hand on her shoulder. Zhen-zhen flinched a little and slowly looked up, her smile also missing.
“Don’t blame yourself, Zhen-zhen,” Qiang Yi said. “I’m happy you wish to be more diligent, but know that no one aboard this ship blames you for what that monster did.”
Zhen-zhen’s eyes grew misty for a moment and she looked away. “I-... I wish I could avoid it, captain, but…” She paused, sniffed and cleared her throat. “There is at least one person aboard this ship who blames me for it, and she isn’t really the forgiving sort.” She hid her tears behind a broad smile and gently patted the hand on her shoulder.
“Thanks, though. You’re a good man, captain,” she said warmly. Qiang Yi felt his cheeks blush and cleared his throat.
“Th-thank you, first mate Zhen-zhen,” he said and pulled away, eliciting a smug snicker from the girl. Qiang Yi flashed her a slight smirk.
“Set a course around the northern coast of the Kick, helmsman,” the captain said.
“Yes, captain!” she answered with a smile.
The post opens with Tong Lao, the carpenter Li Shan’s apprentice, going on a suicide mission to fix the breach in the hull. To protect himself from the water, he sits in a wicker basket, which soon starts taking in water. As she prays in his final moments, Ashalla’s aid deus ex machinas him and the crew shortly thereafter fix the breach.
Tong Lao then goes up to see to his master. Li Shan is still quite wounded, and due to a dangerous amount of water loss, his spirit is damaged. He acts therefore as if he has suffered heavy blood loss. Tong Lao cannot seem to get in proper contact with him, but tells him about all the wonders that have happened regardless. He is interrupted when two medics come to heal Li Shan further.
On the shore, Qiang Yi leads a team of lumberjacks to gather wood for planks. Save for a few birds, the jungle is devoid of life, something Qiang Yi finds eerie. After a while, a sailor named Gong’er comes over to Qiang Yi with a handful of black, ominously desolate sand that they found. Qiang Yi considers this strange metal to be highly valuable and decrees that a basket of the stuff shall be brought to Shengshi as tribute. The sailors agree.
When they return to the ship, the wounded are transported downstairs along with the materials. The ship is repaired and Qiang Yi talks with Zhen-zhen about her not having to blame herself for the fish attack, to which she responds that she probably will, regardless of what he says. She is, however, still thankful for his support and the two share a moment. Qiang Yi then tells her to set a course northwards.
They didn’t actually move, so they are still where they left off in chapter 3.
Ya-Shuur felt excruciating pain and his eyes flared open. Tears fell from his eyes and screamed as tears streamed down his face and he fell from the bed he had made and thrashed on the ground for a while. His blood seemed to be boiling and screaming and there were whispers in his head and images. And when it had all settled in his head and his face was planted on the ground and he was holding horns and sobbing he knew that Vakk had died. This knowledge was instinctive because Vakk was the one who sired his physical form and his blood and Li'Kalla's blood were inside him. What happened to Li'Kalla's had been painful and terrible and it was almost like she was dead but Ya-Shuur knew that there was still a chance of saving her and still a chance that Vakk could undo the hurt that he had done. But there was no undoing this decapitation that Ya-Shuur felt as thought it was his own head.
And then anger surged through him and he sat up and leaned against the wall and stared in to the darkness. His eyes showed their anger and he stared without blinking in the darkness. Ya-Shuur knew that Vakk was unpleasant and that he had done some unpleasant things and that he had hurt some people. But Vakk had killed no one. Maybe he had hurt others this was true and he had even hurt Ya-Shuur when he was fighting Li'Kalla but he had not killed Li'Kalla and Ya-Shuur had not felt him to be a murderer. But now he had been killed and in his heart Ya-Shuur was angry and knew that it was unjust. He grit his teeth and frowned and bunched his hands up into fists. Tears rolled down his face and he sat in the dark all angry and sad for the going of both his progenitors.
This was not just a wrong against Vakk. This was a wrong against Ya-Shuur and his... his people. His close ones. His kin. Maybe one day he would come to know what happened and he might come to know the perpetrators and why they did it. And he would make sure that there was Justice in it all. He wrote a new maxim: "Good kinsfolk ask after the blood of their kin. The price of a hurt is to undo it or suffer like it and death which cannot be undone is paid with death. This is Justice."
Ya-Shuur feels Vakk's death and he is angry and sad about it and he thinks that maybe one day he would discover what happened and be able to seek retribution if he finds that it is right to do this. He makes a new maxim: "Good kinsfolk ask after the blood of their kin. The price of a hurt is to undo it or suffer like it and death which cannot be undone is paid with death. This is Justice."
5/5 for Justice 4/5 for Animal Domestication 0/5 for Truth 0/5 for Retribution 0/5 for Law
Xiaoli could not seem to fall asleep, despite her weary body. The revelry that had followed the arrival of K’nell and Shengshi to the mansion grounds had been tear-jerkingly joyous, purveyed with conjured drinks and foods for all to enjoy. K’nell had sadly left a little early, and Shengshi had retired to his designated guest room in the youth of the night - leaving the river girl with a somewhat anxious weight on her heart.
She shot a glance through the darkness over at the quietly snoring Hermes on the opposite side of the bed. Xiaoli sucked a quiet breath through her nose, gave the back of Hermes’ head a little peck and silently rose out of bed. She quickly undressed and redressed into some more appropriate clothing, slid the door aside and snuck out.
The cool, damp moss kissed her naked feet a few times before it gave way to the prickly gravel of the courtyard. Xiaoli looked down and winced - she would definitely cover this with tiles eventually. Her quiet steps brought her across the courtyard to the guest house, which door she gently pushed aside. The inside was dark, the hallway leading to three lesser rooms. Xiaoli stepped in, took a step forward and pushed the middle door aside quietly. Her eyes blinked and shot glances left and right.
Shengshi was nowhere to be seen - any proof of his presence had been erased through neatly folded bedsheets and blankets; the rice paper and ink stone on the desk had been replaced; the curtains had been pulled aside to let in the fuzzy gardenlight.
Xiaoli felt the weight on her heart grow, complemented by a boiling sensation the heart’s centre. How could he have simply left?! Without saying goodbye, no less! Had all this talk about learning and adapting been lies and deceit?!
Then came a sound - a sharp, yet light sound, barely audible, like the faint song of a harp string. Xiaoli’s eyes blinked and she quickly slid the doors shut and ran from the mansion complex. She crossed through the undergrowth and overgrowth of the surrounding woods, her gait turning into a sprint. The branches bit and clawed at her face and clothes, but she pressed on all the same. After a few moments, she reached the edge of the woods - the tree-eater plains. There, by a watering hole surrounded by resting saplings and watchful mother trunks, the snake sat plucking at his harp in the gardenlight. A curious elm trundled over and caressed the snake’s back with its trunk, to which the snake chuckled before gently pushing it away. Xiaoli blinked a few times before she made her way over.
The snake’s music halted for a moment as the footsteps approached, but promptly continued, albeit with a quieted volume. Xiaoli said nothing, but sat herself down in the sweetgrass next to the snake, admiring the reflection of the Garden in the water. A sapling awoke at her presence, its roots tripping over one another as it ran for the safety of its parent.
For a long moment, the only presence in the empty soundscape was the snake’s claws skipping between the harp strings, the calming song complementing the entrancing light of the Lustrous Garden in the sky. Xiaoli let out a somber sigh, her arms holding her knees against her chest.
“What is the matter, my dear?” the snake spoke softly through the notes. Xiaoli turned her head slightly and glanced upwards at him. While his eyes followed the strings, she felt his attention on her as if they sat face to face. She sighed again.
“My lord, I-... I am conflicted,” she said shamefully. The snake nodded. Xiaoli continued:
“One thought have clouded my mind for a month now; another, for a day.”
The snake hummed. “Share your second qualm, then, for it may be easier resolved.”
Xiaoli’s mouth straightened and she faced forward again. For a moment, she said nothing; then, she asked ever so softly: “My lord, how much of you is in me?”
The snake’s fingers froze for a moment and he looked down at her with pursed lips. As he began to play again, he squinted pensively at the waterhole ahead.
“Your body and mine have little in common, as you no doubt realise. Your form is composed entirely of the materials in that little beck in the jungle. However, your soul is so much more.” He pulled a few strings particularly hard, stirring some of the surrounding saplings to life. The snake gestured to the sparkling Garden in the sky with one hand.
“Your soul, dear Xiaoli, is large fragment of my own, extracted and shaped with the purpose of creating a near-equal - one who could counsel me and act on my behalf. That was your original purpose, remember?” The snake flashed her a wry smirk. Xiaoli looked down in shame.
“Are you ashamed of me, my lord?” Xiaoli asked as her forehead fell upon her kneecaps. The shake chuckled and shook his head.
“How could I be ashamed, my dear?” Xiaoli slowly looked up at him, her eyes glittering with tears in the faint light. The snake put his guzheng away and turned to face the girl.
“I can feel it, you know: your undying love for dear, young Hermes.” Xiaoli blushed and looked away, a small smile forming on her lips. The snake chuckled and gently caressed her black hair. “It pulses through your essence like ripples in a lake for all divines to see.” He gave the flushed river girl a knowing smirk.
“R-really?” Xiaoli almost whimpered. The snake let out a hissing laughter.
“No, I am just playing,” he snickered and flicked his tongue at her. Xiaoli faked a scoff and rolled her eyes. The snake’s snicker turned to a chuckle, one Xiaoli joined in on.
As the laughter calmed down, Shengshi gave her a soft smile. “I do not think the others can feel it, but our two souls are of such a common origin that our essences are near indistinguishable. You are me, Xiaoli, yet you are your own soul - simultaneously me, my sister and my child.” The snake sighed and faced the Garden in the sky again.
“I suspect the reason you are asking relates to the life growing within Hermes as we speak, yes?” The snake gave her a knowing look. “My most sincere congratulations on that, by the way - remind me to send Arae a gift for her trouble.” Xiaoli blinked and then nodded enthusiastically at Shengshi. “Yeah, I will! Thank you, my lord.” Her smile waned a little. “Yes… I wanted to know so-... So I could be certain of whether our children will have divine souls. To be born divine, yet have mortal origins - it would doom them to a life of turmoil and escape from other unsavoury parties. I-... I don’t want that for my children.” Xiaoli looked down at her kneecaps again. The snake hummed.
“Their origins will not be mortal, dear,” the snake said. Xiaoli looked up.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Yours will be among the first children upon this world. They have yet to be born, yet already are they legends among their future people - the first to trace their roots back to Hermes, the First Dreamer, and Xiaoli, the Avatar of Shengshi. Their origins will be immortalised throughout history - regardless of their ability to bring about miracles or not. With your lineage, their race is tied to me in blood and spirit. -That-, dear Xiaoli, is the true relationship between our two souls.”
Xiaoli blinked. “So you’re saying…”
The snake nodded. “Nevermind the potential for your powers to transfer over to them, which, frankly, I do not believe will happen. The very process of you two…” He paused. “... Forming such a child under your circumstances likely requires so much divine energy in itself that little to nothing remains for the actual child.” He pointed a clawed finger at her heart.
“No, the divinity that you will be passing on to the Dreamers is my undying loyalty as their protector.”
Xiaoli felt her eyes well up. “M-my lord, do you mean it?” she said through the quiet whimpers. The snake nodded, his smile waning.
“No one and nothing shall undo the Dreamers so long as I exist. This, I swear.”
Xiaoli could not help herself. She rocketed to her feet and jumped at the snake’s chest, wrapping her arms as far around him as she could stretch. The snake snickered and closed his arms around her, too.
“Thank you, my lord… Truly,” Xiaoli said.
The snake shook his head. “It is the least I can do for my own blood. Now, what was the second query?”
Xiaoli’s smile waned, but slowly returned to a wrier state. She pulled away and put her hands on her hips. “I see you couldn’t let the moment last a little longer?” The snake raised a brow and smirked.
“You know I am not too fond of hugs, after all. Now speak your mind.” Xiaoli sat down again and drummed her hands on her thighs. “Well, my lord, this question has been with me for some time… It relates to loyalty.” The snake craned his head backwards and let out a drawn-out “oooh”. Xiaoli nodded and continued:
“A month ago, Hermes and I were discussing the ideals of the Flow - particularly in relation to respect and loyalty. Long story short, the discussion made me doubt the idea about absolute loyalty to one’s master, regardless of atrocities or crimes. Am-... Am I wrong to doubt, my lord? There are just so many instances now where my actions of respect towards the Exalted Creators have been looked upon with skepticism, or been outright rejected. I feel so… Confused.”
The snake laced his fingers and placed his chin on top of them. “No… No, you are right to doubt,” he said. Xiaoli looked up with blinking eyes and slightly parted lips.
“M-my lord?” she said.
“I’ll admit I was green still when I thought up that particular rule. A few points of wisdom had not yet occured to me at that point.” He raised one finger. “Firstly, a drop of clear water in a pool of mud does not make the mud clear; neither can a speck of mud in a crystalline river soil the entire stream - meaning that a consistently cruel master will not be worthy of anyone’s loyalty despite occasional efforts to compensate; and that a consistently good master will still be worthy of loyalty despite occasional atrocities.”
Xiaoli nodded slowly. “Iiiis… Is that a new addition? I cannot seem to remember it.” Shengshi nodded and raised a second finger.
“Secondly, the line between a loyalist and a traitor is as fine as Nanhese silt - the cruel master will see anyone leaving the ranks as a traitor, but those who oppose the cruel master may see the defectors as loyal to their own cause. Likewise, those who support the cruel master are seen as loyal by the master, but regarded as traitors by the oppressed. Which one of these is in the right?”
Xiaoli cocked her head to the side. “W-well, those who remain with the master are loyal to their master at least, no?”
The snake nodded, a hint of pride contrasted by a pinch of shame in his voice. “Yes, that is true, saintly are those whose loyalty remains steadfast to the good sovereign - but there is a keyword there: the -good- sovereign.” The snake leaned in. “What are the qualities of a true master, Xiaoli?”
Xiaoli blinked and looked back with firm eyes. “As a true master speaks, the voice is like the wind to the grass - with every breath, the grass bows. As a true master watches, the sight is like the light of Helipolis - all-touching, all-seeing. As a true master listens, the ears are like a flood - as it spreads, it consumes all in the four directions. As a true master acts, the hand is like the delta - it forks out in every direction, giving go all who are in need.”
The snake nodded proudly. “I could not have recited it better myself.” He clapped for the blushing girl. “Now tell me - what does all this mean?”
Xiaoli nodded. “A true master is charismatic, observant, open to criticism and requests from its servants, and generous.”
The snake nodded. “Very good. A poor master mirrors these qualities with their opposites. An uncharismatic master gathers no support; a master blind to the affairs of the kingdom will soon see it fall; a master unwilling to hear criticism and the voices of the people invites rebellion and instability; and a greedy master warrants a replacement. Is this not true?”
Xiaoli nodded. “So it is.”
The snake nodded back and held up a third finger. “Thirdly, all masters are to be respected, but only the good ones are to be served.”
This made Xiaoli cock her head in a confused manner. “B-but how do we know which leaders are good?” she asked.
“I believe we just defined the rubric,” the snake said with a smirk.
Xiaoli blinked. “B-but… Can it really be that simple?”
The snake made a frown and shook his head. “As some rules, this one is a rule of thumb: However, most master that match this definition of good will be worthy of loyalty; most that fit this definition of poor, will not be.”
Xiaoli blinked again and looked down. She then looked back up with a smile and bowed her torso to Shengshi. “... I… I think I understand. May I ask, though, what does ‘respect’ in this context entail?”
The snake nodded. “Act towards them as you would towards any other master - regardless of their actions and character, their position is still above yours, meaning the standard mannerisms of the five relationships apply.”
Xiaoli nodded firmly, stood up and bowed. “Yes, my lord.”
The snake smiled warmly and bowed back. “Please give Hermes my warmest regards. I must return to the ship before it hits a reef on the shore - and please, Xiaoli… Please do not forget to visit now and then.”
Xiaoli straightened back up and grinned. “Of course, my lord. We will bring the children over some day soon.”
The snake chuckled. “I am looking forward to seeing my grandchildren - or possibly children.” He gave her a knowing wink. “Farewell,” he said, picked up his guzheng and slithered off.
“Farewell, my lord,” Xiaoli said.
The weight on her heart had lifted, leaving only the flutter of joy and clarity in her chest. She would have to share this with Hermes soon, but for now, she felt like enjoying the brilliant light in the sky for some time longer.
Xiaoli can’t seem to sleep, her heart heavy with questions. She gets out of bed and moves over to the guest rooms to talk about them with Shengshi. He ain’t there, though, but she hears harp music a little further away, so she heads over to the tree-eater plains, where she finds the Snek playing his harp.
Xiaoli says she has two queries nowadays: How is she actually related to Shengshi, and what loyalty truly is. Shengshi tells her that they are of the same soul, but that her fears about the kids inheriting god powers is unwarranted - the divine genes will likely build into a divine legacy, which Shengshi pledges to protect.
“No one and nothing shall undo the Dreamers so long as I exist. This, I swear.” is the line.
Then they start talking about loyalty, and Shengshi tells Xiaoli that loyalty is really only reasonable if the master one is loyal to is good. They set the following ground rules for a good master: “A true master is charismatic, observant, open to criticism and requests from its servants, and generous.”
While it’s not an absolute rule that one should not be loyal to a master who cannot meet these standards, Shengshi points out that one who meets them will be worthy of loyalty, whereas one who doesn’t may not be as eligible.
They end it on a happy note and say goodbye, Sheng saying he will return to the Foot.
The unlikely duo, now riding atop a giant bunny, had skirted the edge of the vast Sandravii for days, going north through sparse shrubland towards the shadows of the Qiangshan mountains. Behind them was the Giant's Bath and with it, the Nanhe river. Yet they pressed on, letting Penelope lead the way. Arya, far too delighted with her giant friend, didn’t even question where the Jackalope was taking them. She simply told Split that they should trust in their noble stead and have faith in her ability to take them to the market, wherever it might be. The kostral was satisfied with nodding and plucking another fruit.
That was many days ago, and now Arya looked at herself within the newest small stream they had found themselves next to. The stream had no name, but it’s waters were clear and undiluted. Arya thought Shengshi would like that. Meanwhile, Penelope was busy munching on plants downstream, and Arya did not know where Split had wandered off too. Instead of looking for her, she instead had donned the dress- her dress, that K’nell had given her. It was as comfortable as it was in the dream, and furthermore, looked amazing when she twirled about.
Arya shut her eyes, K’nell’s advice coming to mind. She needed to practice in the real world, and what better time to do it before they moved on again? Her eyes snapped open and she began to step. Though there was no music, that could change. She let the memory of the Palace’s rhythm take over and the ghostly symphony resonated in her mind. She even began humming to the phantom melody. It was bliss, and also a wonderful way to get rid of stress. And so the girl danced.
She didn’t know how long she danced, but her peace was interrupted by a distant explosion, mid twirl, causing her to almost fall, but she held her balance. Arya then spun around, trying to locate the source until her eyes fell upon the mountain of fire to the south east. It was but a blimp on the horizon, yet it burned with such renewed intensity. Even she could tell that it had erupted. The land that way was darkened by clouds of ash, and a certain terror filled her heart at the thought of the danger it possessed. Her mind spun with possibilities. Was it nature taking its course? Or an intentional act, brought about by a god? She did not know, but in the world they lived in, anything was possible.
The small girl blinked, and turned to Penelope, who was sitting upright scanning the horizon. Her deep hazel eyes were impossible large as she sniffed the air. Arya quickly floated over to the Jackalope and began to give the animal comforting scratches on her cheek. She had found that Penelope responded best to a gentle touch, and she did love her scratches.
Worried as Arya was, she didn’t want Penelope to be stressed, so the girl spoke softly to her, ”It’s okay. It’s okay girl. I’m here.” as she stroked the soft fur of the bunny. Penelope then slowly went back to eating, tearing into a nice leafy bush. With a sigh of relief, Arya then landed a top the jackalope’s back and scanned the area for Split. She looked upstream, then downstream, pausing briefly on the glow of the mountain on the horizon. Arya then turned around. There was thick, closely packed vegetation due to the stream, but further out the land was sparse, containing an abundance of splotchy shrubs here and there. Seeing as Penelope was enormous in her own right, she had a good vantage of the land. But this view only further worried Arya, for she did not see her tall, Kostral friend. So, she shouted, ”Split? Split! Where are you!”
For some moments, nothing. Then the undergrowth nearby rustled and shook, and Split’s grey, rugged body crawled out of it on all sixes.
“Sometimes you get me worried.” With a heave of her forearms, she propelled herself to standing on two legs and dusted off a few twigs and leaves clinging to the ridges in her skin. “I said I’d go look around a bit. Were you asleep again?” She disapprovingly narrowed an eye at Arya’s dress. “Told you, that thing’s dangerous. Keep putting it on, and one day that-” a gnarled claw gestured at the fiery plume on the horizon, “won’t be enough to wake you up.”
Her expression changed as her gaze followed the finger, folds of lip-skin curling up to bare pointed teeth in an uneasy snarl. “Better talk about that later. Whatever’s happening there’s not good.” In a couple of deft pulls, she was on Penelope’s back, and prodding the enormous rabbit to start moving again. “Last time I knew something like that happened, we got that desert. First thing we do is get away fast.”
A silent sigh of relief rushed over Arya as she both heard, and saw Split. The Kostral’s words did not seem to affect Arya in the slightest, if anything, she was just glad to see her Kostral friend. Her eyes squinted into smiles as the Kostral climbed up Penelope. As they began to move, Arya settled down amidst the silken sheet, and looked at the fire mountain in the distance.
Her voice suddenly took on a serious tone as she said, ”Yeah, that’s probably a good idea, if what you say is true.” she then turned around to face forward and said in melodic fashion, ”Come on Penelope! Give us a good pace, girl.” and the Jackalope responded by beginning to speed up. Arya had figured out that whoever held the bell, was able to command Penelope a bit better than those without. The jackalope was far more responsive with her. The small star bell had soon found a home around her neck, fashioned with the strands of hair from Penelope. Arya mindlessly caressed it, as she hoped they would find the market sooner than later.
“We’d better find the hole that goes down or what Choppy’s got for it quick.” Despite the jackalope picking up pace, the kostral’s subdued alarm did not diminish. She shifted restlessly on the blanket, keeping one eye fixed on the pillar of smoke rising in the distance. Her teeth rhythmically grit together, a scratching sound Arya had not heard before. It was laden with apprehension.
“There’s a god that lives in that mountain,” she said after a while, breaking the uncomfortable back-and-forth of the scraping, “or something like one. Don’t care to find out what. Nothing wrong about that, but it’s got a deal with the Fell One.” Her voice dropped into a guttural growl, and she paused, glancing around. Shrubs, bushes, grass not nearly tall enough. No real hiding places. “Don’t know what they agreed about, but if something big’s happening there, maybe it’s time. He” she all but spat the word, “might be coming up.” The eye facing Arya winced nervously. “We’re far, but that doesn’t mean a spit. You think you can hide well if you need to?”
Arya could see that Split was on edge, and that alarmed the small girl. Split was a giant, six-armed weapon of flesh and bone, if something was making her nervous, that terrified Arya. But she couldn’t be afraid, else her fear would control her. Just as Kalmar had once said. Arya took a deep breath, before saying, ”I… I could if I needed to, but I’m not going to abandon you and Penelope. I couldn’t do that.” She then walked over to Penelope’s head and grabbed onto both horns. She turned her head to look back at Split, saying, ”We have a quest to finish, now don’t we?” Arya then turned looked back at the fire mountain, and had to blink as she saw a tiny black dot coming from the mountain. It hadn’t been there before.
”I don’t mean to alarm you, but what’s that?” she asked in shaky voice as she shifted her body to point at the speck.
The kostral turned up her head, following her gesture. Her eyes, by now used to the daylight, but still clearly not made for it, winced as they tried to make out the distant blot. “Can’t see any better than you,” her voice sounded almost hollow at that point, “But I know that the god of the mountain flies. If that’s it-” she broke off, blowing out air between her teeth with a whistle. “Nothing’s sure. Could be something else. I’d rather not meet that thing either way, but that’s not the worst.” She shifted to face Arya with a dim, disquieted and ever so indistinctly concerned look. “If you see something big come this way, run. Not just big, something-” she tried to gesture to indicate just how big, but gave up halfway through the motion. “I’ll tell you. Don’t mind me, I’ll be fine. She should be too.” A pair of fingers ran along the jackalope’s hide. “If he’s coming up, I don’t want him to see you. No telling what he’d do.” She produced the coffee flask and held it up. “You’d better take this, don’t want him asking questions. Hope you won’t have to, but-” She whistled again.
She listened to Split speak, Arya’s expression softening as she saw Split wanting to protect her. Tentatively, the girl reached out and took the flask, then said, ”It won’t come to that, Split. Trust me.” she looked away briefly before sighing and looked back, ”But… If worse comes to worse… Okay. Okay.” Arya turned around again and began said, ”Alright Penelope! Lets-” but her voice was cut off as the world suddenly went dark.
The sudden shift from dark to light was bewildering and Arya had to blink, before looking up where Heliopolis shone. What she saw, was a vast cloud of something dark. It blotted out the sun, then it was over.
Arya looked back to Split with wild eyes, and then turned forward once more, shouting ”Penelope, run! Take us to the Market!” and all at once the Jackalope kicked her legs and the she was running. The wind blew through Arya’s hair as she clutched the coffee flask. She was spooked, to say the least. Something was happening on Galbar, and she could tell it wasn’t good.
If the sudden cloud over the sky had startled her, its effect on Split seemed to be much the opposite. Whether it was the familiarity of the shadow or the acrid smell of smoke that began to waft down towards them, she rapidly shook herself from her unease, resolutely snapping her jaws and turning her head to the fore with a click. Four hands grasped at the long white fur, making the kostral look like a statue fastened to the creature’s back with evenly-tied ropes.
“We’d better hope we won’t take another week to get there now.” Her voice had recovered its flat, raspy bite. “Good thing is anyone with an eye’s going to be looking at that first. If your eyes are as high as that-” she glanced upwards and chortled, “Sometimes being big isn’t all that good. Worst thing around for us now will be that other one, and he’s got to be busy doing all that.” She tapped Penelope’s flank with a free palm. “Still no reason to let up.”
”Whatever you say Split!” Arya shouted above the wind. ”I have a really bad feeling about all of this. I just can’t seem to shake it! Hopefully Penelope knows where she’s goi-” And then the Jackalope suddenly stopped, the force almost making Arya fly forward, but her grip was solid. She looked up, hoping to see the market, but was disappointed. All around them was still shrubland, broken by large rock formations here and there.
”Penelope! What are you doing?” Arya said disgruntled. The jackalope then raised her head, sniffing the air. She then cocked an air, as if she was listening for something. After a long, quiet moment, the Jackalope began to forage, much to Arya’s dismay. Grey fingers tapped on its hide with irritated impatience.
“That Choppy looked like she had a loose head,” Split grumbled, “Could’ve warned us about the defective rabbit, though. Defective, that’s the word.” she added, more to herself than to either of her companions.
”Penelope, this is no time for eating! We have to go girl!” Arya said as she gently prodded the bunny. But Penelope did not listen, instead she paused again next to a bush, her giant eye peering down at it with curiosity. After a moment, Arya heard a small ‘peep’ and a bird flew out of the brush. Then all of a sudden, Penelope was running again. Arya lost her balance and fell backwards, landing against Split’s body. Several hands swung up to catch her, the kostral herself miraculously keeping her balance despite releasing most of her grip. Two uneven rows of dripping teeth over her head were superseded by a quizzical pair of eyes.
Arya looked up at Split for a moment and said, ”What is she doing!” before scrambling back up to the top of her head, propped up by two arms from behind. She saw Penelope was chasing a small golden bird, with red plumage, and that it was leading them straight for a large rock formation. Arya’s eyes went wide and she began to panic, ”Oh no! Penelope! Penelope stop! Stop!” she shouted, tugging at the Jackalope’s antlers to no avail. Behind her back, she could hear a dissatisfied rumbling and clicking of teeth. As they got closer, the situation seemed dire. The bunny kept running. Arya looked back at Split and shouted, ”We have to jum-” As if the Jackalope could read her thoughts, with one mighty push, she had jumped in the air. Arya screamed, turning her head just in time, to see a massive hole in the ground, then darkness.
We find out heroes near a small stream having traveled north of the Giant’s bath, skirting the desert in the shrubland.
Arya doesn’t know where Split is when she wakes up from a nap, so she decides to practice dancing. Her practice is interrupted by the distant explosion of Mt. Eldahverr. This worries Arya and panics Penelope, who she begins to comfort.
Having dealt with Penelope, she calls for Split who arrives shortly after, having scouted the area out. Split climbs back on Penelope and is very concerned about the Volcano erupting, and they talk of gods and what to do in case of an emergency.
They begin to travel, only to find the day turns dark briefly. This further scares Arya and she tells Penelope to run, which the jackalope does, for a short time anyways.
Penelope then stops, prompting Arya to wonder why the Jackalope is behaving so strangely. Unbeknownst to the two heroes, Penelope is gaining them passage into the Route, much to their horror as she speeds off towards a rock.
As Arya begins to say they need to jump, Penelope jumps, and they enter an oversized rabbit hole. We fade to black.
Split-Tooth: +9 Prestige Starting +1 For Minor Role +1 For Major Role +1 For Jolly Collaboration +1 For Following a Quest = +13 Prestige Ending
Arya, The Learner: +8 Prestige Starting +1 For Minor Role +1 For Major Role +1 For Jolly Collaboration +1 For Following a Quest = +12 Prestige Ending
The Lustrous Garden made its way towards the horizon, the warm rays of Heliopolis chasing away the night behind it. Xiaoli looked up for a moment through the foliage above, taking in the purple, almost red light that poked through. Around her the chameleon squirrels were starting to wake up, skipping between the branches and blending with the bark as they shot Xiaoli curious stares. A nearby patch of flying moss soared down from a branch above and landed on her shoulder with a wet slap; with a chuckle, the river girl brushed it off gently. In the distance between the trees, she spotted the faint yellow straw roofs atop the mansion houses. Past a few more trees, she saw the wooden walls and the stone foundations. Past the last few, she entered the clearing and skipped happily over to the family house.
Xiaoli burst in the door, skipped into the air and boomed, “Good morning!” as she belly flopped onto the mattress.
“AH!” Hermes woke with a start, neary bouncing off the bed. Her wide eyes narrowed and she smacked Xiaoli with a pillow, a laugh forming, “You see-” she yawned, “seem pretty happy.”
“Yup!” Xiaoli beamed as she dusted some sand off the pillow. “I had a chat with His Lordship, and he really provided some solid wisdom. It's…” She sucked in a deep breath through the nose. “It just feels like a boulder has been lifted off my heart.” She grinned, biting her lip slightly, and threw her arms around Hermes’ neck. “Also, I'm just… Really, really happy.”
“Mm, that's great!” Hermes gave a mirthful smile as she shook off the last of the sleep. She scooted into the embrace.
“Oh, and speaking of His Lordship, he sends his warmest wishes and, listen to this, has pledged himself to defend the Dreamers for as long as he lives!” She let out a silent squeal and kicked her legs about frantically.” Everything is just going so well!”
It was Hermes’ turn to beam as she suddenly squeezed Xiaoli before holding her away, “This is amazing news!” She stopped and smiled wide, “Shengshi… K'nell… our family is blessed. Oh, Xiaoli -- I couldn't be happier.” She squeezed the river girl again.
Xiaoli let out a fusion of a happy hum and a giddy giggle, digging her face into Hermes. She held the pose for a long moment, occasionally moving her head to peck at the areas of Hermes’ face that she could reach. Hermes chuckled happily at the affectionate assault, returning a few pecks of her own before holding Xiaoli away and peering in her eyes, “Xiaoli?”
“Yes?” the river girl spoke.
“Do you think,” Hermes said slowly, plucking one of her stray hairs from Xiaoli's woolen shirt, “That since everything is taken care of, and the house is nearly done, we could go on a little trip?”
Xiaoli's smile fainted a little, turning into a somewhat wry, yet straight face. “Hermes, dear, you know we can't do that. You have a baby on the way after all.”
“Abanoc's book says I have time before I really start showing,” Hermes debated, touching Xiaoli's arm, “Besides, I've been cooped up for a month. That's a first for me.”
“W-well, what if something were to happen? I know you've been practicing diligently, but what if we meet something that neither of us can fight? Or what if we get separated, or--” She cut herself off and squeezed her hand affectionately. “I just think that we shouldn't be reckless for a while, you know?”
Hermes looked off to the side, “Maybe,” she slumped against the headboard, “But it's been so long.”
“I know, my love, I know.” She placed a hand on Hermes’ muscular stomach and laid her head on her shoulder. “But still, we cannot take a--” Her eyes shot wide and slowly turned to Hermes. “Hermes?” she asked in a worried voice.
The Dreamer drained of color, “What? What?”
“Did-... Did His Holiness K'nell do anything to you while he was here? Anything spirit enhancing or the like?” Xiaoli patted her stomach searchingly.
“No,” Hermes squirmed, “He just- we just talked about the battle,” her voice was upset at the mention of it, “and other things, but nothing like that.”
Xiaoli gaped, then let out a single gasp. Her eyes welled up and as she turned to Hermes, the edges of her mouth curled upwards.
“H-Hermes I… I think there are two souls inside you!”
The Dreamer reeled away slightly, “I know; me and the baby. Xiaoli, are you okay?”
Xiaoli blinked. “N-no, silly! In addition to yours! There are two souls inside your belly!”
Hermes hesitated and then put her hands over Xiaoli's, “T-twins!?” She grinned stupidly, “Twins!”
Xiaoli let out a quiet squeal. “Y-yes, it must be! Oh, by the Exalted Ones, Hermes, we will have twins!” She blinked and then suddenly furrowed her brow. “We will have twins… I must add another bed to the room next door!”
Herme’s happy smile suddenly faded, “Twins.” She looked uneasy for a moment then forced her smile back, “Yes- another bed.”
Xiaoli's eyes flicked back at Hermes. “Hermes, is something wrong? You sound...” She raised a hand to caress her cheek. “... Talk to me, my love.”
“It’s nothing,” Hermes took Xiaoli’s hand from her cheek and held it, lacing her fingers around Xiaoli’s. She looked sad despite her smile, “I’m probably just being emotional again because of the-- pregnancy.”
Xiaoli sighed and cocked her head to the side. “Is it about the adventures?” she asked and pulled her hand away, shuffling over to the edge of the bed.
“No,” Hermes’ voice dripped with the beginnings of sadness, she let her hand drop as Xiaoli’s disappeared. Xiaoli looked over her shoulder.
“What is it, then?”
The Dreamers eyes shimmered and she turned away to hide them. She mumbled but it was barely audible even to Xiaoli. She let out a slightly frustrated sigh. “Hermes, dear, I'm sorry, but could you say that again, please? I didn't quite hear it.” She shuffled a little closer and leaned in. Hermes leaned close to her.
“I-” She managed quietly, “I might not survive twins.” Her eyes fell on the ever present book of Abanoc, she opened her mouth but then closed it.
Xiaoli did not move. “W-what?” she barely whispered. Her face slowly turned to face Hermes, its colour pale as ice and her lips quivering.
“It’s dangerous,” Hermes shrunk, “And twins: it’s very dangerous.” She wiped a stray tear that was forming, “I don’t want to worry you -- but I’m scared.”
“No! No!” Xiaoli stabbed a finger at Hermes chest, her eyes like waterfalls and her teeth grit together. “You are -NOT- saying those horrible things to me, is that clear?!” Hermes’ shimmering eyes broke and she closed them, beads running down her own cheeks as she cried quietly. Xiaoli’s neck gave out and her forehead crashed to Hermes’ chest.
“How-... How can you-... We were-...” The river girl sucked in a deep breath and sent her fist through the headboard next to Hermes’ head with a furious scream. The dreamer’s tears stopped as she jumped, looking at Xiaoli with scared eyes. Xiaoli pulled her fist out slowly, the pure sand polluted with splinters. She let out a long wail into Hermes’ chest, murmuring “it’s not fair” over and over.
“Xiaoli, you’re scaring me now,” Hermes looked down with a furrowed brow, her eyes still ripe with worry.
Xiaoli lifted her head, her squinting eyes ringed with red. She pulled away and rose out of bed. With several more sobs, she exited the room. Hermes sat there with a hollow feeling in her chest. She felt sick, more than usual. She leaned back in confusion, a splinter on the headboard snagging the back of her head. She swore and turned, slamming her own fist into the damaged head board. Trickles of crimson covered her fist as she took it out and she groaned, letting her head fall into her hands.
“I just want to go back to bed,” She whimpered to herself as her stomach turned. She felt guilty, and the guilt was eating at her chest but her anxiety kept her frozen in place. A swirl of emotions conquered her head, and she wasn’t too sure which one she was suppose to be feeling, her mind split between her emotional state and her actual fears. She felt regret.
There was a violent scream outside, followed by the rumble of something heavy crashing to the ground; judging from the snaps and cracking, it was likely a helpless tree. Hermes scooted up against a pillow and stayed like that for a while, before finding a small flame of resolve. She soaked it in and creaked out of the bed.
Padding across the floor of the house, she made her way outside, her arms wrapped around her stomach defensively. By the northern edge of the clearing, violent whips of water sprouted in every direction, occasionally complemented with tree splinters, and a single fleeing shadow crow. After a few moments, they stopped, the only sound on the wind being a loud wail.
“Xiaoli,” Hermes weakly shouted, jogging towards the wail, “Xiaoli.”
She came upon the clearing and saw the river-girl curled up against the pulverised remains of a tree trunk, its length covered with cuts until reaching the middle - which had been ground into sawdust. Xiaoli’s clothes were torn and ripped from splinters and sharps, and her skin was fractured across several spots.
Hermes let out a hot sigh and plopped down next to the river-girl, “Xiaoli…” Her voice was weak and slightly spooked, “You can’t--” Her voice wavered, “You can’t do this. You’re really scaring me.”
Xiaoli let out a sobbing cough. “Ishjuss--” She grabbed Hermes arm and clung to it desperately. “Ishjussai--” She pressed her forehead against her shoulder. Hermes gave another hot sigh and kissed the top of Xiaoli’s head.
“I’m pregnant,” Hermes said, her voice slowly coming back, “I get scared, I get nervous and I get horrible ideas-- but you, you’re my rock in all this. What I said was just from a worried mind, and I know it’s been rough on you too, but --” She looked at the broken trees, “This really scares me, seeing you do this.”
Xiaoli sniffed a few times and looked up at her. “I--” She let out another cough. “It’s just that I-... I cannot afford to lose you. You are--” In a near-unnatural fit of speed, she sat up and cast her arms around Hermes. “You are my existence - my purpose. I cannot even… Begin to imagine a life without you.” She rubbed one of her eyes. “Even the possibility of you not-... Well, it frightens me - frightens me to the point of fury.” She looked at the tree behind them. “I put you and the children in danger… What if one of the splinters had hit you?” Her head keeled over on her knees again and she began to sob once more.
Hermes wrapped her arms around her stomach again and tucked her knees up, “I don’t want to think about that.” Her mind began to spin, the adrenaline slowly leaving her body and leaving an empty bubble in her stomach.
Xiaoli sniffed again. “I cannot even allow myself to think about it…” She looked at Hermes. “I’m-... I’m so sorry for this. It’s just…” She rubbed her eyes with her thumb and her index finger. “... No, there’s no reason. I won’t frighten you again.”
Hermes suddenly leaned over and spat vomit. She rasped a quarter of an apology before suddenly puking again. Tears welled up as she threw up a final time and after a few painful gasps she leaned back and blinked away tears, “Xiao-” She choked on the air and cleared her throat, “Okay,” Her voice was a fine gravel. She reached out and patted Xiaoli’s arm between rancid burps, “Okay.”
Xiaoli sat there like a cat next to water. For what it was worth, her tears had dried. “A-are you well?” she asked uncertainly. Hermes flashed daggers for a second before softening.
“Mhm,” She wiped some spittle from the corner of her mouth. She sucked in a few calming breaths, her heart clearly pounding anyways and her gut clenched.
Xiaoli sat dumbstruck for a moment before she let out a single snicker. “What a morning,” she mumbled and shot Hermes a weary look. “I’ll go get you something to drink, hmm?”
‘Oh’ was all Hermes managed before suddenly retching again. She quickly scurried behind the stump and emptied her stomach again, half of it just being hot air. Her face was beat red and she let out a single gag before calling back, “P-please.”
“P-please never scare me again,” the woman burped painfully, her throat scratching.
Xiaoli smiled sadly and sniffed. “Yeah… Yeah, I’ll do my best. Just-... Just please don’t tell me anything else the book says about the survival rates of birth, is that alright?”
“I don’t think I’m--” Hermes paused and made an airy sound, “I don’t think I’m going to be reading about it again.” She coughed a few times, “Also, I’m kinda mad -- I am mad that you broke the bed.”
Xiaoli blinked and cast her eyes down shamefully. “Yes, that was uncalled for. I’ll fix it in a bit, okay?” She got to her feet.
“Okay,” Hermes sat up and pulled loose hair from her face, “Thank you. It was very close to my face and it spooked me and I’m pregnant which means I don’t exactly have the best control over some things right now.”
“Y-yeah…” She sniffed again. “It won’t happen again, I promise.” She picked up one half of the mauled trunk and walked a few steps before she turned to Hermes again. “I love you, Hermes - more than anything on this world, or any other.”
“I know, and I love you too,” Hermes gave her a small smile.
Xiaoli smiled warmly and picked up a stone, turning it into a cup in her hand. She raised it to Hermes. “Would you like sparkling or normal water, by the way?”
“Sparkling,” Hermes gave her a cheshire grin, with only minimal spittle on the side of her mouth.
On the altar of the sunrise, there was a wedding in the waves. NO but actually what happened is Xiaoli came home and woke Hermes the fuck up to share with her the good news. Against all laws of nature, the pregnant woman woke up not mad and they shared a moment before Xiaoli realized that Hermes is pregnant with twins. She tells the broad, and they both get all screamy happy about it until Hermes is like “That could make my pelvis explode” and then they get sad about it, but then Xiaoli gets Bruce Bannered’ and fucks up some furniture, makes Hermes have an accident and blasts outside with the rage of Khan Krum the Terrible.
Hermes goes out to calm her lover gone Bulgarian Mass Murderer and they have a serious thing. Hermes ends up puking everywhere being the pregnant lady she is and then scolds Xiaoli for wrecking the joint as if they lived in New Bedford, Massachusetts (ha!). Other shit happens but the real kicker is that Hermes tells Xiaoli that she loves her for the first time, and then orders a Perrier.
“First thing’s first,” Kalmar began aloud. What he said next, however, came directly from within Melantha’s mind. “It will be easier if we speak telepathically.”
“Whoa,” Melantha yelped, barely managing to retain her balance and almost tripping due to the suddenness with which Kalmar switched from vocal to telepathic speech. “You can do that?!” The bewilderment on her face was evident.
“Yes. Just think of me, and think your next thoughts as if you’re saying it directly to me, but don’t speak it out loud.” Kalmar’s voice continued. As he ‘spoke’, he looked back to see if she was alright, but his mouth remained closed the entire time.
This time around she was somewhat prepared for it and thus was not as taken aback by the telepathy. Melantha fiddled with her ear in annoyance and thought about what he said. Think about him…”
She looked at Kalmar’s face as he was turned around and her eyes instantly homed in on his moustache. Dominant as it was on his face, it had more or less become a defining feature of Kalmar in her mind, and she found herself instantly remembering his face whenever she thought about his moustache, a nice little trick she had found in order to make sure she would never forget how he looked.
As she focused on holding the picture in her mind, she thought the words she wanted to say instead of saying them out loud. “Hello hello. One-two-three, anybody there?”
“You did it,” Kalmar informed her with a slight smile. ”Well done.”
“It seems really tiring though, to be honest. Why do we need to communicate like this, anyway?
“When hunting, silence is key. If we are speaking, the animals will hear us and flee the area. It will also be helpful if we ever end up too far away from each other to hear through normal means…” he paused. “Why were you staring at my moustache?”
“No particular reason…” Melantha said, brushing his question off and quickly changing the topic. “So what are we going to hunt? Have you decided?” She asked and moved to walk next to him as they traversed the forested areas at the foot of the mountain.
“Depends on what we find,” Kalmar answered. “We start by looking for tracks. If you look behind you, you will see that you leave footprints. Animals do too. They also kick aside leaves and snap branches. Look for any minor disturbances on the ground.”
Melantha peered behind them and located their footprints, letting out an exclamation, roughly understanding what Kalmar meant by saying ‘tracks’. She then looked around them for anything remotely similar to what he had described. “Yeah, I don’t see how you can differentiate between leaves blown away by the wind and random fallen branches, and leaves and branches displaced by animals moving over or around them. It all looks the same to me…” she said with a furrow in her brow.
“When leaves are blown by the wind, they rest lightly against whatever surface they land on, and are easily blown again. When leaves are stepped on by animals, they are flattened and pressed against whatever surface they were on. As for branches… if multiple branches in a row have all been snapped in a similar way, then that’s a sign. Branches don’t usually snap unless stepped on anyway.” Kalmar informed her.
“Right…” Melantha said in an absent manner, more concentrated on discovering tracks like the ones Kalmar spoke of. They walked for a couple of minutes more, Melantha scanning the area all the while before her eyes finally locking onto a particular section of the ground behind a nearby tree. She quickly ran behind that tree, coming to kneel on the wet soil beside the spot. Some leaves were covering it, but Melantha had noticed that there was a particular groove that had formed in the ground. She picked up the leaves, revealing a strange duo of marks under. “Something like this?”
“No,” Kalmar said as he stepped beside her and knelt. He cleared away some more leaves. “A branch or a rock fell here,” he concluded, rising to his feet, “from a height tall enough to cause an indentation in the ground. No animal did this.” Kalmar raised his eyebrows, and then suddenly he turned, to begin clearing twigs and branches away with his foot. “But this…” beneath was a large paw print with four toes. “Now we found something.”
“Oh I see,” Melantha said and shuffled closer to where Kalmar pointed at. She observed the footprint, its curves and contours, memorizing it in her mind for future reference. “What kind of animal leaves such a print?”
“A wolf,” Kalmar revealed. “Like Fenris, but smaller.”
A wolf… She looked a little further up to find another, very similar footprint. While the previous one generally leant towards the left, this new one leant towards the right, so Melantha reasoned that the previous one must have been a footprint of the wolf’s right paw and this one was from the left one, an observation she voiced for Kalmar to confirm. Seeing him nodding his head in assent encouraged her to continue looking for those footprints, and soon enough she found herself following a trail of footprints through bushes and scrubs.
Kalmar followed her in silence, a silence he only occasionally broke to help her out or correct her if she made a mistake. Then, suddenly, he grabbed her arm to stop her from moving any further. ”Wait,” he said.
“What?” She asked, the abruptness of his act surprising her somewhat.
“A pack of them isn’t far. Listen. Concentrate, and try to sense them.” Melantha perked her ears as his words registered in her mind. A pack? She stayed quiet, limiting her movements in order to have as clear of sound quality as possible. Her breathing slowed down, and that’s when she heard them. Faint whimpers and yells, strange sounds coming from unfamiliar, to her, creatures coming from some distance to the west of them. “I hear them! she proclaimed happily. “Maybe six? Seven tops. What do you reckon we do?”
“They are coming closer,” Kalmar realized. “Which means we must prepare.” He pulled out a fistful of arrows and pressed them into the dirt next to Melantha, so she would have ready access to them. Then, a metal knife appeared in his hand. “Get ready.”
Grabbing Kalmar’s bow she had put over her shoulder as well as one of the arrows, the fledgeling archer braced herself. She nocked the arrow and assumed a relatively relaxed position that allowed her a good amount of maneuverability. Should multiple wolves attack her from more than one direction, she would be ready.
The wolves appeared within sight, in their black, brown, and grey furs. They moved slowly, silently, and menacingly. There were seven of them in total, and they began to spread out, no doubt hoping to circle what they thought would be their prey.
”Shoot,” Kalmar urged Melantha. And shoot she did. The first arrow took them by surprise, evidently, it was their first time encountering beings that used weapons, and Melantha did not waste her chance. Finding its target in one of the eye sockets of one of the larger canines among the pack, the arrow dug deep into its skull, penetrating its brain and killing it immediately. The wolf’s body fell down with a thud, eliciting a few yelps from its packmates.
When they realized their prey was fighting back, the wolves broke into a charge, clearly intending to close the distance and thus render Melantha’s bow useless. With knife in hand, Kalmar dashed forward, swinging the blade and cutting through the side of the lead creature with a deep, efficient, and brutal slash. The other wolves circled around to surround him, ignoring Melantha for the time being.
Unfortunately, that kind of strategy would cost them. Melantha swiftly grabbed another arrow and nocked it, aimed, and shot again in almost mechanical motion. This time the arrow struck one of the wolves in the midsection. The wolf let out a pained whine upon feeling its organs being pierced by the projectile and was launched a few meters sideways following the momentum of the arrow before falling down.
The remaining wolves lunged at Kalmar from all sides. Kalmar sidestepped one, grabbed it, and then swung it into the path of two more, sending the three beasts to the ground.
The one wolf that still stood came crashing into him from the side. He fell to the ground, the wolf on top of him, but with his godly strength, it was a simple enough matter for him to grab the beast and throw it off.
Having lost three of their own, and been so easily overpowered, the four remaining wolves rose to their feet and scrambled away. Kalmar allowed them to leave, and he turned to Melantha. Both his knife and the hand that held it were stained with blood. “You did well,” he said to her calmly.
“Huh?” Kalmar’s words broke the trance-like state she had unknowingly put herself under. With clear eyes now, she stood, leaving the bow on the ground behind her, and looked at Kalmar’s blood-covered visage, the knife he held, as well as the dead wolves on the ground. A shiver ran down her spine as the realization that she had just killed not one, but two beings. Melantha hung her head low and walked silently towards the body of one of the wolves, kneeling down beside it.
She saw the fletching of the arrow peeking above the insertion point in its eye. “Instant death…” Melantha put her hand on its head and closed her eyes, offering a small prayer to the departing soul. She then stood up and moved towards the other wolf she had shot down.
There was a whine which was swiftly cut off by a slashing sound as Kalmar finished off the wolf he himself had cut during the fight. He looked toward Melantha, watching her actions.
She was suddenly stopped in her tracks, however, as the wolf with the arrow sticking out of it slowly rose its head to look at her. Melantha’s eyes immediately opened wide; the image of the wolf laying there and watching her every move superimposing itself over the image of a wounded Fenris, lying by the lake and watching her all the same. Melantha froze in place as a tide of emotions washed over her. However, just as she felt her eyes start to blur up, an arrow whizzed past and struck the wolf directly in the eye.
Behind her, Kalmar had picked up the bow and was already returning the remaining arrows to his quiver. Melantha turned her head around and glared at him, her face saying more about what she thought than anything she could vocalize at that point.
Kalmar met her gaze as he rose to his feet, his expression one of confusion. “What’s wrong?” he asked, as he shouldered the bow.
“Do you feel no remorse about killing it like that?” Melantha replied with a question of her own, trying to understand how Kalmar could so calmly sentence a creature to its death, without any second thoughts or hesitation.
“It was going to die anyway,” Kalmar told her. “That arrow pierced one of its vital organs. In a few minutes, or maybe even a few hours, it would have been dead, and it would have suffered needlessly. I would have felt remorse if I hadn’t killed it. As for the others…” he waved a hand to indicate the other two wolves, “...they do not feel remorse about the lives they take. They attacked us, they failed, and we killed him. So long as we make sure their bodies are used in some way, I don’t see what there is to regret.”
Upon hearing what Kalmar had to say, Melantha’s expression changed from one of budding anger to one of thoughtfulness. His last few words especially rang true when she considered the cloak he had given her to wear. The fur on it closely resembled that of the fur of a wolf from what she had observed and so she reasoned he had done this at least once before. That, coupled with the fact that he had introduced himself as the ‘God of the Hunt’ further supported his arguments, making Melantha look at Kalmar in a new light.
She refrained from saying anything else, finding herself a little overwhelmed by so many realisations coming at her at once. She found herself moving again, having regained control of her legs. Walking beside the, now dead, wolf, she knelt on one knee and repeated the same prayer she had given to the other wolf before standing back up again. “What now?” she said aloud for Kalmar to hear.
Kalmar was about to speak, but then he looked again at the corpses of the wolves, and then back to her, as if unsure of something. ”Are you alright?” he finally asked, after a while.
With a sigh, Melantha turned around and approached him. “Yes, I am fine, Kalmar. Are these wolves enough to make clothes for me?”
Kalmar nodded. ”Yes.” He knelt down, picked up one of the large wolves - it was even larger than he - and raised it onto his shoulder. Then he did the same with another. ”Can you carry that one?” he asked, indicating the one he had shot through the eye.
Melantha stared at Kalmar straight in the eyes for a good long minute before she sighed and walked over to pick up the wolf’s body from the ground. Oho, it is surprisingly light for how large it seems she thought in her mind.
Kalmar was not sure what to make of her judgemental gaze. He knew he was right, that she was being irrational - likely brought on from her lack of experience. Yet nonetheless, he somehow felt bad. He wanted her to trust him, to like him, and he felt like he had failed. But there was no undoing his actions.
Wordlessly, the two continued on toward the mountains.It had taken some time, but eventually, Kalmar located a suitable cave. Most of the ones they found had been small, barely suitable for one person. The two of them and the three wolf carcasses took up quite some space. Even with their divine senses, the search for a sizable cave was still somewhat difficult.
But eventually they found one, and it was quite spacious - an open hole in the side of the cliff, descending into a larger chamber that had enough room for them to move around with relative comfort. ”Will this serve?” Kalmar asked as they stood at the entrance. “I don’t think we will find a better one.”
“About time,” Melantha said with an exasperated look on her face. Beads of sweat were running down her forehead, the intense rays of the midday sun making it especially suffocating for her to walk outside without anything covering her face. She entered the cave first before even Kalmar had any chance of scouting for anything dangerous that might be already inside, and deposed the body of the wolf on the ground before plopping down a few meters away from it.
Kalmar placed his wolf carcasses on top of hers, and then sat down next to her in silence. ”I’m sorry,” he finally said, after more than a minute had passed.
She turned her head to look at him with a quizzical look. “For what?
“I asked you to come hunting, without telling you what that meant,” Kalmar explained. “Would you have gone if you understood? I should have explained it better…”
“Ah, that…’ she looked at the ground in front of her as she thought about her next words. “Probably not, no. I also had told you that I wasn’t really that fond of the idea of clothes in the first place…
Kalmar nodded but maintained a thoughtful silence.
“...but what is done is done now. I became complicit to this the moment I shot that first arrow that killed one of them. I have blood now on my hands as well, just like you, so I don’t particularly feel like chastising you over not informing me beforehand.
“Communication is my weakness,” Kalmar found himself admitting. “I almost fought another god because he threatened to kill one of my creations, but he only did that because he thought my words were too blunt. He was in the wrong, but with a few held back words I could have avoided it.” He sighed wearily. ”I angered someone I had taught and cared for because I did not tell her everything she wanted to know. I created a mortal, and now he resents me because he felt I was too hard on him… maybe he was right. I don’t know. Before I was brought to this world, my only concern was my next meal. But when I arrived here, that changed, and I’m still adapting…” his voice trailed off.
This sudden outpour of emotions was, honestly, one of the last things Melantha expected to come out of Kalmar’s mouth. From what he had shown her thus far, he seemed to be cold and unapproachable at best, a man that operated on principle alone. Yet here he was now, displaying feelings that she never expected him to have. Using a stern front to cover his inexperience when it comes to interacting with others, it was inevitable then that his intentions would eventually be misunderstood.
But wasn’t she the same? The first thing she did when they first came face to face was to use the wolf as a threatening tool to scare him off. She was caught off guard at the time, hurt and honestly quite afraid. She had acted on instinct, but Kalmar did not seem to have felt offended by her actions. On the contrary, he took his time to explain himself, and of the world, to her, going as far as to create a completely new being out of nothing right in front of her in order to prove his point. His explanation of his intentions for helping her back when they were flying on top of Shynir came out very sincere and wholehearted, even though he might not have realized it did at the time. And at the end of the day…
Melantha’s hand slowly wormed under the cloak to find Kalmar’s. “...you’re not the only that is still adapting to this strange, new world. Warm and comforting emotions suffused her words as she spoke them inside Kalmar’s mind.
Once again, Kalmar tensed at Melantha’s touch but soon began to relax. He looked up at her, into her eyes. A few moments passed, and then a thin smile appeared on his face as he looked away. “Asceal was wrong about you,” he commented.
“Asceal… is she the Goddess of Light? You mentioned her name earlier but didn’t really expand upon it further. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she continued. “What did she say about me?
“She told me…” Kalmar paused, carefully thinking about his words. “She told me that you were mad, that you were dangerous. She made it sound like you were a threat. She said you attacked Aelius in his own sphere. I don’t know if that’s true, and I decided to reserve judgement until I met you in person. Now that I have… I think she must be mistaken.”
“Well, I can’t claim to know of my previous self’s actions and whether I was truly the person she told you I was, but I feel like I should not be held accountable for the actions of someone I never met or knew. Then a frown appeared on her face as Melantha thought more about Kalmar’s words. “But in case her words are actually true… I… I will try to be better, she added with some hesitation.
“Good,” Kalmar said, the small smile returning. “And whether she was telling the truth or not, I will do what I can to make her see reason.” More silence, and then he added, “I should also say that you’ve shown impressive survival instincts.”
“Oh? Well, I can’t really be blamed now, can I? I woke up in a strange new place with no memories. Then a random stranger appears out of nowhere and starts feeding me with information for all I know could be lies. I assume anyone in my situation would go into survival mode immediately.
“The first thing you did was seek protection, so you turned to Fenris. You then tried to use his size and the state he was in to scare me off. After that, you were slow to trust me, because as you say I could have been lying to you. True, most would react the same way… but you knew to do all this without any memories or experience. That is what was impressive.”
“Well… I will gladly take that compliment then. Thank you, she replied with a smile.
Kalmar nodded back, and reluctantly let go of her hand. Then he rose to his feet. “On our way here I sensed the presence of another god,” he said to her, changing the subject. “I’m going to go see if they are still in the area. I need to know their intentions. Do you want to come?”
Melantha peered to the direction of the cave’s opening and frowned. The sun was something that she did not particularly like much and seeing as it was still day outside, she felt little motivation in leaving the comfort the cave provided and going to meet some random deity. “Ugh, no. I’d rather prefer to stay here. Just don’t take too long…"
A flash of disappointment crossed Kalmar’s face, but it quickly faded. “I’ll try not to,” he said with a nod, and then he turned to leave, only to stop himself. He removed the bow and the quiver that went along with it, then turned back to Melantha. “Here,” he said, as he propped the quiver against the wall and held the bow out to her. “Take good care of them.”
Confused by his actions, Melantha nevertheless stood up and received the bow. “I will, she said and continued, “but why are you leaving your weapon with me? Won’t you need it where you are going? she questioned.
Kalmar shook his head. “I have this knife,” he said and pointed to the holster on his hip. “And my power on its own is stronger than both weapons combined. You still haven’t figured out to access most of your power, so it will be of more use to you.” Then he shrugged. “And it proves that I will be coming back.”
With those words, the Hunter turned around and walked towards the cave’s entrance, Melantha watching him as he left.
Kalmar and Melantha go hunting. He teaches her how to track. Then a pack of wolves discovers them and attacks. They successfully fend them off, but Melantha is horrified by the lives they took. Kalmar then proceeds to justify the deaths of the wolves, giving Melantha a new perspective.
After that, they pick up the dead wolves and go to search for a cave, so Melantha can get out of the sun. After a while, they manage to find one. Once inside, Kalmar apologizes to Melantha for not telling her what a hunt was supposed to be about. In an unusual outburst, he then admits that communication is his weakness, and lists a few key incidents that were brought about by his failure to do so. This confession brings the two closer together.
He then tells her what Asceal said about her, and concludes that Asceal must have misjudged her. Melantha promises that even if Asceal’s words were true, she will try to better herself. Kalmar also compliments her survival instincts.
That done, Kalmar then reveals that he detected the presence of another god in the area, and decides to investigate. Melantha chooses to remain in the cave. Before he goes, he leaves her his bow and arrows, both for her protection as well as a reminder that he will be returning to her.
Thumfatem hummed happily in the afternoon heliopolis. The spring winds were slow and the humidity of the coast was rising, making sweat gleam off his blubbery flesh wherever his parasol couldn’t cover. He watched with beady eyes as the new labor caste of the Grottu piled stone after stone, some smashing harder stones on the softer stones to make them more edge aligned for the project. The grunted in their work and only took breaks to sip at water brought down from the nearby river that marked the boundary of their territory.
Rubbing a whiskered lip, Thumfatem suddenly groaned, “Make sure the base is wide enough to support it as it grows taller.” The Laborers stopped and examined the square base stone altar they had been building. The base was already ten feet by ten and tapered three feet high to a second base of eight by eight.
“How tall?” Lumpagett looked back with confusion.
“Taller than me!” Thumfatem called back, “So our Father Kirron may see our sacrifices when Panganeem returns from the hunt.” He put his hands on his hips, “Quickly now, we mustn’t keep Father Kirron waiting!” The laborers quietly went back to work, some murmuring ‘yes, prophet’ but otherwise continued without much complaint.
“Thumfatem,” Hoshaf piped up from his own spot besides the Prophet, a plump yet attractive Selka woman holding a reed and leaf parasol over his head.
“Erm?”
“Shouldn’t that be good enough?” Hoshaf began, but the prophet was quick to slap a meaty hand over his mouth.
“Chieftain! Don’t say such things. You know nothing can merely be ‘good enough’ for Father Kirron, if that was so,” Thumfatem let out a chuckle and looked to the plump servant caste girl, “Then clearly he wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of handpicking us as the leaders of his favored tribe.” The prophet waved the girl away and leaned in close to Hoshaf.
“Perhaps you are having trouble adjusting, hm?” He whispered, Hoshaf nodding eagerly, “Perhaps you even feel… guilty?” Again Hoshaf nodded. “Well, don’t.” Thumfatem’s mouth turned into a line, “You are the chosen one, and I am your guide. I think you need to better acclimatize to your new role. You do know your new role, don’t you?” Before Hoshaf could make a peep Thumfatem pulled the man in close, “You’re the chieftain,” He droned, “You’re role is to do whatever you wish, take whatever you please. It’s all in Father Kirron’s plan.”
Together their eyes followed a sad looking Antorophu with a wooden bowl of water for the laborers, “Take whatever you want,” Thumfatem smiled wickedly, a small crescent forming on Hoshaf, “You are in charge.”
“I am in charge,” Hoshaf slowly nodded. Suddenly a hollar came from one of those designated as a hunter.
“A winged lady approaches!”
Hoshaf turned in wonder, as did the majority of the laborers. In the distance a white figure brushed through the thickets. Thumfatem seemed less impressed than the others and turned to Hoshaf, “I shall greet her on behalf of the Chieftain, perhaps you can stay here and-” He thought for a moment, “Exercise your new role?”
The Chieftain nodded to the larger man and Thumfatem waddled off to greet the winged stranger, bringing with him several of the hunters he walked by on the way. The walk was slower due to Thumfatem’s physique but in moments they stood before the lady.
“Father Kirron’s blessing on you and this fine day,” Thumfatem gave a blubbery smile, his eyes studying the strange figure of white. She was tall, much too tall, and had one functional wing, with another loosely bound. Her face was blank and warped from what a Selka might expect to be normal, with two horn like protrusions topping her head.
The lady sighed at the sight of the Selka, crossing her arms as her head remained unmoving and appeared as if she were looking past them. “Great, more of you people,” she said before she continued speaking, more to herself than anything, “Vakk seems to have put them everywhere… Wait. Father Kirron? Is that what Vakk is referring to himself around you? That’s not like him.” For a moment she seemed to lose herself in thought before she released a hiss of pain, her hand moving to grip her shoulder. Clearly it was her wing causing her pain, but she refused to look upon it.
“Who are you,” she questioned through grit teeth.
Thumfatem seemed to reel at how Atvav introduced herself before panting, “Vakk? No, no! Nothing by that name. This is the holy land of Grottu, blessed by Father Kirron and put in the hands of,” He tapped his chest, “Yours truly, as high priest and prophet,” He looked over his shoulder, “To advise his own chosen chieftain in the ways of Father Kirron.” The hunters all nodded approvingly, scars from their battle still fresh on their exposed flesh.
“Sounds like a crock of shit,” Atmav said plainly, straightening herself and stretching her arms up. She popped her neck a little before continuing, in a rather paranoid manner, “Vakk is a being of a talk and deception. Could be under another name for all I know.”
Thumfatem seemed troubled by her words and twiddled his thumbs, “No… no,” He grimaced, “You clearly have traveled far and many ways from here, because the only Lord God who owns this tribe is Father Kirron, a God of few words and many strengths. It was by his will we were tossed from the oceans as mere animals and sprouted into beings of worship. Even now we extend our ability in his name and gather the greatest of sacrifices in his honor.” The Prophet smiled, showing off his piscivorian teeth, “Would you like to hear the commandments of Father Kirron?”
“Sacrifices…” Atmav repeated, turning her head away for a moment before she tentatively took a step back from the Prophet. She shook her head, casting away thoughts before she finally turned her head to look upon the Prophet. A small hint of dissatisfaction came across her face, “If it means I get to rest, them fine.”
“Of course!” Thumfatem began to waddle back to the stick village, gesturing for her to follow, “The very first commandment is easy; it is to have fun. We all have fun here, we can’t get enough of it, sounds pretty great, hm?”
“That one I’m familiar with,” Atmav grumbled.
“Next we must work hard, revere Kirron, and show our thanks,” Thumfatem continued, “We can do this by following the commands of his chosen leaders and priests. So long as we trust in his word, we shall never be lead astray and we shall prosper.” The fat selka stopped as they entered the ring of stick huts, where the workers toiled in the center with the construction of the altar, “It was revealed to me that the best way to work and the best way to lead, is with structure; so we have divided ourselves into castes where we feel we will work best! Quite genius of our Father Kirron, hm?” He chuckled to himself, “Such a God.”
Atmav gave a look of disgust at the mention of castes, looking at the ones deemed lower in the caste. Her face morphed into one of anger before she snapped at Thumfatem, “Castes are another means of oppression, slave-driver. What makes you so different from he who makes the altar or he who hunts? The system you use is one of greed.” She looked away from the fat Selka before she nearly doubled over, making stifled sounds of pain as she gripped her shoulder once more.
“Hmm..?” Thumfatem looked over at the woman in pain, “No oppression, and I’m not even sure what a slave-driver is, but we are divided only in what we do for work, what we are best at.” He stopped and looked at her pained expression, “Maybe a little faith in the Lord Kirron would see your pain away.” He paused, “As prophet, I could take your pain away, but then -- perhaps,” He started to chuckle to himself, “instead I should busy myself with moving the stones?”
“I’d rather die than put myself in debt to another god,” Atmav hissed, slowly returning to her normal height, standing imposingly over the others. She cast one more look around before she commented, “You are different that the Selka I had met in the north. They are far more… relaxed and easygoing.”
“With so much work to do, you cannot blame us,” Thumfatem pondered for a moment, “They likely haven't heard the call to worship just yet.” He rubbed his whiskers, “All in good time, yes?” The fat seal waddled away a bit, “Did you say you were staying to rest?”
“I suppose, but the talk of sacrifice makes me nervous,” Atmav admitted, looking at Thumfatem skeptically.
“It is our tribute to Father Kirron, a marker to show him our budding strength” The Prophet let his wide hands rest on his belly, “Nothing to be nervous about, but excited!”
Atmav let out a sigh before nodding her head, giving a singular warning in response, “Very well. Just don’t consider me for sacrifice.”
“Of course not,” Thumfatem seemed almost offended, “Our celebrated hunter, Panganeem, is out collecting our sacrifice. What he brings back is surely to impress Father Kirron and bestow his further blessing upon our tribe.”
“Okay, but I have my doubts that this ‘Father Kirron’ will bless you,” Atmav stated, her voice clearly stating her dissatisfaction with the situation. As such, she seemed to keep a paranoid air around her, constantly shifting her view to keep a watchful gaze upon the Selka who. Between the pain and the paranoia, it was clear that she was not exactly all together, especially with how she had spoken towards Thumfatem.
“Erm,” Thumfatem folded his webbed hands over another, “You've come quite a way and endured much suffering just to continuously berate our beliefs,” He turned to her, “Do you hate us?”
Atmav stopped for a moment, looking at the ground in deep thought at the question that Thumfatem had presented. “I-“ she started before turning away from the Selka with her gaze going into the air as she seemingly thought for more time. “No. I am just skeptical that your people could be so nice while an evil such as Vakk exists,” her voice was slow and hesitant, almost unwilling to share such information. She shook her head before letting out a loud sigh.
“If you were born into a world through sheer pain and torture, you would question any niceties that you’d come across as well,” she continued through a saddened voice.
“Alas, we were born only under the empowering might of Father Kirron and under him we live empowering lives,” Thumfarem gave a toothy smile, “There is no evil here, only faith.”
“And yet when I called to the gods, offering my faith, none came,” she said before turning back to face Thumfarem before she continued, pain filling her voice, “I was thrown here with nothing. The world I knew is gone. I was brought back just to be tortured and forced debt by a being I cannot hard to see.” Atmav took a few steps towards the Selka, her voice breaking as she spoke, “Where was your god when I prayed for help? For guidance? I got nothing!”
She was standing right over him at this point, her breathing stuttered and quickening, “If your god is true then where was he in my time of need?”
“Silence from Father Kirron does not mean he did not hear,” Thumfatem debated, “It just means you have yet to show strength worthy of him. See now, as the Grottu prepare to do so when Panganeem returns.”
“Or perhaps,” Thumfatem doubled over his words, “Perhaps your prayer was answered and guidance is being offered, hm?”
“I-“ Atmav stumbled on her own words and thoughts, before nodding her head in slight agreement. “I suppose you may be right. But why would I be led here? All I have ever done is shown disdain for your kind,” she said, a saddened confusion coming over her voice.
“Ah, Father Kirron is not without his mercy, it seems,” Thumfatem nodded eagerly, “Perhaps there is great use for you in the divine lands of Grottu.” He stopped walking as he approached a stick hut, “Should you stay.”
Atmav stood behind him, silent for a moment before before she took a hesitant step back. “I- I don’t know,” she said before she turned away from the Selka once more. “I don’t want to be a burden,” she said, before her mind trailed elsewhere. “I-“ her breathing quickened again and her hands balled into fists, “No. If this is some sick game by Vakk, I won’t play it,” she said, looking around as she seemed to be filled with fear at the sight of other Selka who stared at her.
Thumfatem seemed to recoil at her outburst, “Erm, no.. No,” he attempted to calm his guest, “This is a tribe of Father Kirron and no other. It is by our own makings under Father Kirron that I extend the invitation.”
“How do I know you are not lying to me? How do I know whether or not you or your god is as great and as merciful as you say?” Atmav snapped, her old pained anger coming across her face as she took another step back. Her head moved around as if her gaze could not find whatever it was she was looking for.
“I suppose,” Thumfatem seemed to ponder the question, “It's all in faith.”
“Stop saying that word!” Atmav finally yelled, her anger and confusion boiling over as it was fueled by the paranoia that plagued her. Her direction of movement changed as she took two long strides towards the Selka as she leaned over him. “Say that word again and I will see how much blood I will have to spill to please your god.”
“You are asking a Prophet to stop saying faith?” Thumfatem faltered for a moment as he flinched. The other Selka turned to the outburst.
The massive hand of the winged one was suddenly on Thumfatem’s throat, lifting him into the air as her grip strengthened. “I told you to not say that word!” Atmav yelled. There was a sudden thump on her broken wing and then another across the side of her face. Rocks. The other Selka were grabbing stones from the builder’s pile and tossing them at her between yells of anger.
The pain that shot from her wing made her release the Prophet who scurried away between gasps of air. Falling to her hands and knees as she let out a pained cry, Atmav raised her head with grit teeth as she growled at Selka. Slowly, despite the pain in her wing, she raised herself up before she caught a stone in her hand and with a roar of anger, Atmav crushed the stone.
All the Selka fell silent. Those throwing hesitated. Atmav's display put a flash of fear across their faces.
A dead moment passed. A mound of water bulged up from beyond the beach. A blurry grey shape breached the surface with a resounding splash, causing the beleaguered selkas in front to stumble out of its way. The head of the shape opened up with two huge black eyes as it flew onto the sand hard enough to make the ground shake beneath the feet of all at witness. A seal many times taller than the largest creature in the scene hoisted itself up on its flippers.
"Yimbo...Yimbo is here!" A lone selka voiced. All the rest raised their arms in and called out in reverence.
The great seal's slit nostrils flared, then it stretched out its head towards Atmav and roared a beastly, deafening roar through rows of dangerous teeth.
Atmav remained undaunted, her own anger flaring as she let out bloodthirsty roar in return, readying herself to be charged at. She gazed upon it for a moment taking a singular step to the side as her undamaged wings spread themselves in a savage attempt to make herself look bigger than she really was.
Yimbo licked its teeth with some consideration. It then hefted its bulk forward as selka scattered left and right. The creature lumbered forward on its belly faster than its size alluded possible. Atmav found herself in the way of a wide red maw launching to grab her.
She launched herself into the air before the teeth snapped shut, using the wings she could to glide over Yimbo as it snapped just out of reach of her feet. Atmav landed behind Yimbo before she herself charged, aiming to subdue it the same way she had subdued the reptile she had fought days ago. Her form was quick, though her attack was as blind and reckless as any other savage creature could manage as she closed the distance. She felt the tailfin slam into her entire left side before she saw it.
Atmav let out a roar of pain, the tailfin disturbing the fragile balance that kept her injured wing in place, only to be worsened as she landed back first in the sand. However, as she quickly got to her feet, she reached her arm and grabbed the dangling wing before ripping it free from her back.
A quick peal of thunderous movements brought Yimbo's head back around to face Atmav where she landed.
“Come on then!” Atmav taunted wielding the end of her wing as one would hold a spear. Yimbo was already picking up speed again. At the last pace, the monstrous guardian dipped its whiskered head low and to one side to butt her towards the ocean. The woman shoved the fragmented end of her wing into its face hard enough to halt Yimbo's momentum entirely. Yimbo barked in shock. The bone fragments slashed pink lines over its forehead as Atmav used her elbow to slam into Yimbo’s snout when the wing did not stick into its head. The impact sent a wave back across the blubber of Yimbo's entire body.
Yimbo waddled back, shaking its head left and right as sheets of blood fell from its huge nostrils. When it let out another roar at Atmav, its eyes were wide enough to see the whites at the back corners, burning with its own fury. It snapped its mouth forward again.
Like with the reptile, Atmav quickly moved the hands to intercept the jaws of the great beast, forcing her to drop her wing to do so. Her hands moved along the rows of teeth, breaking her skin as she forced herself to hold open the jaws of Yimbo with a strength unknown to most men.
And yet, as low, wet growls bubbled up from Yimbo's throat, her arms began to shudder. Its breath stank of rot and salt. Its jaw felt like a mountain weighing her down. As she struggled, pelts of stones once again started from the angry selka, a few heavy sticks thrown in for good measure. Her arms strained to keep the maw of the beast open, her gaze looking for an escape. Suddenly, she thrust her horns up to strike at the roof of Yimbo’s mouth. Her head felt the texture of her horns scraping at raw flesh.
All around her, Yimbo's scream of pain sounded as hot red blood ran down her head and back. The world wrenched up and to the side, and the beach knocked the wind out of her chest as she was thrown from the guardian's mouth.
Yimbo now faced her with blood dripping from its mouth as well as its head and nostrils, but it was no mere jungle reptile. It brought its head high, dipped its entire body forward, and bent up with enough force to launch itself off the beach and into the air.
Atmav felt a chill in the shadow of its midsection. With what little time she could, she got to her feet, attempting to ignore stones that only angered and bruised her more. The woman launched herself to meet Yimbo, her hands digging into the blubber of his underside. With an almighty thud and a cloud of hissing sand, she was silenced.
But Yimbo did not show any relief. First, his midsection arced up through no effort of his own. With great struggle and equally great strength, Atmav pushed the the massive form of Yimbo up to reveal herself. Yimbo let out a panicked roar when it realised and tried to roll away too late. Atmav let out a cry of defiance before she threw the monstrous seal into the crowd of selka.
The selka screamed as the giant seal came crashing down. Bones cracked and blood spurted as a few of the builders and onlooking children were crushed under the weight. Those who had the luck to escape the blow scurried off, yelling wildly. Hoshaf hid behind the altar, only peeking out to watch the scene unfold in horror.
“Is that enough blood for your god?!” Atmav yelled to the survivors, holding her arms open to invite any other challengers forward after her display of might. She breathed in and out, turning in a circle to any survivor who would be brave enough to continue watching, “I will leave! And if any of you follow, I will come back to finish what I started!”
Yimbo twisted to roll off the victims under it. This time its wild eyes twinged in a horrified sadness. It put its body between the selka and Atmav protectively and shouted out at her. Once out breath, its nostrils flared and it roared out again.
Atmav’s only response to Yimbo was a long gaze, before she went to retrieve her wing which had been partially buried in the sand. Her back was turned to Yimbo and the Grottu as she merely stalked away from it all.
One last long, pained shout emptied from Yimbo's throat. Helpless, he turned and nuzzled at the half-buried bodies to find any survivors. A few crumbled bodies flinched to life, but it was clear the damage was done. Hoshaf left his hidey hole and walked up to the scene, a blubbery Thumfatem trailing behind, hand on a reddened throat. Other selka approached, mostly workers, who did so carefully. They committed their movements towards Yimbo and gave the great seal a sobbing thanks and pressed their palms on his thin fur with reverence.
“What have you done,” Thumfatem rasped. Hoshaf recoiled.
“Me?”
“You’re a weak leader, and because of this our people are weak, I see that now,” Thumfatem seemed to choke on his words as he scanned the dead, “Father Kirron had sent her here to show us our weakness, to show us how wrong we are.”
“No- no!” Hoshaf furrowed his brow, “That’s not what happ-”
“You’re weak!” Thumfatem threw a fist to his side in a huff, “You aren’t a leader, and now look. We bury our dead again.”
“I’m trying-”
“Stop trying,” Thumfatem growled, “And do or we are all doomed.”
“I will lead,” Hoshaf growled back, “I will be strong, I will be the strongest.”
“Then do it!” Thumfatem shouted, “Because all I see is a mistake!”
Hoshaf narrowed his eyes, and pointed to a scared worker caste, “You! Get the others and start collecting the bodies.” He looked at Thumfatem defiantly, “Father Kirron will hear our cries during the sacrifice, and he will see how strong I can be.”
Thumfatem huffed, “For our sakes, I hope you’re right. If you’re wrong, it’s probably best you leave before anyone notices.” With little else the prophet stormed off, a vexed look on his face.
Hoshaf watched Thumfatem leave and looked back down. His eyes fell on a young girl, the top of her head broken open by a red stained shard of bone. Her was was one similar to one in shock or perhaps someone drowning. Hoshad squinted, her face looked like Panganeem’s. He pointed to her and shouted at a worker, “Bury her first.”
6 Prestige. She -1 Prestige to perform a feat to hold up Yimbo and throw him into the Selka +1 from Minor Involvement in post +1 from Major involvement in post +1 from collab.
8 Prestige.
Thumfatem is orchestrating the building of an altar for Kirron when he decides to berate Hoshaf for being weak.
A selka by the name of Panganeem is out hunting for the perfect sacrifice for the altar. Atmav shows up and despite his best “Walooloo” Thumfatem only brings her to the brink of conversion before she suddenly snaps and assaults him. The selka respond by pelting her with stones. She releases Thumfatem but then decides to go on a killing spree. Yimbo shows up and they have a tussle. Atmav eventually tosses a heavily bleeding Yimbo into the crowd, killing many innocent men, women and children. This breaks everyone’s heart -- except for Atmav who threatens to come back and finish the job if they follow her. She leaves.
Thumfatem berates Hoshaf for being weak and blames him that they couldn't defend themselves. Hoshaf resolves that he will be strong and he will lead, while Thumfatem is starting to have doubts. Panganeem’s daughter was killed by Atmav.
Like with the reptile, Atmav quickly moved the hands to intercept the jaws of the great beast, forcing her to drop her wing to do so. Her hands moved along the rows of teeth, breaking her skin as she forced herself to hold open the jaws of Yimbo with a strength unknown to most men.
Fateful words in a mysterious language emerged from Yimbo's throat: "Omae wa mo shindeiru…"
To say that Ohannakeloi was perturbed would be an understatement, in fact to say he was feeling any singular emotion at the moment would be quite the understatement.
Out in the western mountains Ohannakeloi stood on top of a mountain, or more accurately he stood on a thin layer of rock hiding the Buajaoi on top of a mountain. The serenity of the landscape held little for him at that moment for he had been getting disturbing prayers. First one from Ihokhe, off on his great mission about his encounter with another god and the rather unpleasant news to be learned of there, and then a rather short one in the main camp of the Ihokhetlani, the goddess Azura would be looking for him. So here he was, and he had no idea of what to say or even what would come next.
Ohannakeloi was not sure how he felt even now, the destruction of souls was worrying yes, but he had seen another worrying thing, the leakage from that realm of Anzillu. Ohannakeloi could not feel that there must be good reason for all that. They were divinites all together in this purpose of this world, surely the others could see that. Perhaps he should have payed more attention to his fellow divines before heading off into the world, interacted more, but there was nothing to be done about that past now, only to the future. It should not take long for another divine to find him, after this meeting perhaps he could think about such things more or take appropriate action.
From the direction of the Ihokhetlani camp she came, preceded by a gentle breeze and arriving basked in the light of her feathers. She was alone. Upon spotting him the rapidly approaching divine called out to him. “Hello there Ohannakeloi! I hope I am not interrupting but I was in the area and though it might be a good opportunity to speak with you in person.”
“Azura! You do not know how glad I am to see you, I have heard prayers of Ihokhe and others telling me of what you have told the Ihokhetlani.” Ohannakeloi felt some resolve from his turmoil of emotions, he was glad to be able to talk to another in a similar state and being as himself.
She banked round as she slowed, comin in for a landing just a bit of the way away, her decelerating flaps kicking up dust that would have struck him had she come in head on. Large talons gripped stone, iridescent wings were folded to her side and then the Goddess turned to face him.
“We must talk, we both have great deal to say but tell me first, how are you?”
“I’m doing well all things considered. Progress is being made and that's always something to be happy about. It’s all been so very hectic since the moment we all took our first breaths after the eternity in the Void, so I’m glad someone filled you in already on my current task. I’ll be taking some steps to hopefully stop me having to repeat myself over and over in future. We’ll have to see how that works out.” she said, before stopping herself and refocusing on Ohannakeloi “But enough about me. How are you Ohannakeloi? You’ve certainly been busy, that I can plainly see.”
“I’ve never been better, I’m glad the Ihokhetlani have turned out so well, Galbar seems sufficiently stable as the initial issues have settled somewhat, and Atokhekwoi is filling out nicely thanks to some other works, haven’t been back east to see what is there yet. There is still much to do and make, much more yes, but it will be all the better now that there are more to appreciate it all no?”
Azura nodded “You certainly made them well. Sturdy, self sufficient, and with the freedom to choose their own purpose. I also picked up the impression that their, ah, exuberant praise they seem to shower the divine with was more of a defense mechanism against those who take that sort of thing very seriously than a mandated behavior? Which is good in my opinion. I haven't had a chance to see much of this continent so far, this is the first time I‘ve ventured this far south. Who has been helping you, if I may ask? It’s always nice to hear about gods cooperating for once.” she said
“The Ihokhetlani are being fair and cautious, as a defense mechanism I do not know about that. I do not know who has helped either, these forests came and I know not who made them, as did some different kinds in the northwest, someone else but who I did not see. Bit of a shame that it covers up a lot of the good stone but it is no harm.”
“Ah I see” she responded, a touch embarrassed. “It seems I misinterpreted something Hase said then. My mistake. Anyway, it is shame you did not have a chance to meet the visiting gods, but I’m glad they left a positive mark on this land.”
“Indeed it is a great thing when the gods work together, although I must say, you have accomplished some great creations of your own?” Ohannakeloi settled more comfortably into the rock as he spoke.
“Oh. I suppose. Nothing so grand as this however. You’ve been told about my work with soul crystals of course. Apart from that I also made the floating temples and tiny colorful creatures you can see in the sky above us. I made these pretty parrots who, now that I think about it, might have been responsible for some of the plant life finding its way down here. They were made for the express purpose of spreading life you see. There is also Luis. He’s a giant flying whale. I would have introduced you but he decided wanted some space to think rather than come with me to meet you. I made an island up north with some mountains on it… it's all been rather sporadic really. I don't tend to stick to one place like you seem to have done.” Azura explained at length.
“I am glad to hear you have been so busy, I shall have to visit the north some time to see that. Traveling more and seeing others is something that I should do more. Tell me, I only met him briefly but I wonder still, do you know what Shengshi has been up to?”
“Shengshi? We haven’t met, though Asceal mentioned him briefly when we spoke some time ago. She mentioned him making a companion named Xiaoli and that he was engaged in some kind of feud with Kalmar? ” Azura cocked her head to one side as she attempted to remember “It didn’t sound extremely serious though? She seemed more disappointed than concerned if I remember rightly. She also mentioned he provided good hospitality, so I imagine he’d be very open to a visit by yourself.”
He stood up on his many legs eager to listen before replying, “Most excellent news, shame about the feud but to make a companion, even I who made the Ihokhetlani did not think of making a companion for myself. A visit would be good yes, I wouldn’t want to impinge however, I must send a message about a when a good time would be. In any case, you have spoken how you haven’t really stuck to one place, tell me of the others you have met. You mentioned Asceal, what is she like? I only have the barest impression myself of the Light goddess.”
“Personally I’m not sure if I like the idea of making people solely for that purpose. Moraly at least. Then again Luis is something of a companion for myself, though I did not make him for that purpose. Asceal also has the friendship of a resurrected soul from the void named Liana... she bobbed her head from side to side, “making someone who has to like you is cruel to the person you made. Also I feel like an earned friendship is probably worth a thousand times more than a forced one?” she finally said, before switching tracks to answer his question.
“Speaking of friendship: I’d like to think of Asceal as a good friend and comrade, even though we have only spoken on three occasions. She is lovely, realy. Kind and empathetic. The comet that lights up the night sky is hers, a reforging of the remains of the second sun that somebody blew up. I’d also hazard a guess that the lumiose island of the west coast of this continent is at least in part her work. She, I and Aelius are also working together on this whole soul situation.” she explained before running the conversation away from the topic of souls for the time being only to flounder into similar issues elsewhere “I’ve also met Ashalla and well… but then i have to talk about…. Maybe instead Li’kalla… or Parvus… oh dear.”
Azura gave a single humorless laugh and then said “It seems I can't talk about those I have met with without spoiling the present mood by touching on some catastrophe or other.” she sighed. “Ashalla’s creations are marvelous wonders to behold and Li’kalla is... Was such a sweet and precious girl… I don’t suppose you’ve had any meetings with the others that haven't been marred by dire events.”
Ohannakeloi listened with a great degree of interest, he may not agree with some of the sentiments expressed but to finally know of the others was a great desire that he did not known he had. “Well I have not met another god besides yourself and two others, although those two others were back in the palace of the Architect of the Spheres. You are the first I have met, or even talked with since coming to Galbar.”
“By the Void. That's quite the period of isolation in between. It’s been… honestly I have no idea how long now that I think about it, but certainly quite a while. Or not isolation. You were with the Ihokhetlani.” she corrected herself “Is there any particular reason as to why you haven’t spoken with the other god or have you just been to busy to head out and unfortunate enough to have not had any guests stop by so far?” she asked curiously
“Ah well, I was beneath the surface for a great deal of time, finding the right place and then having to stabilize the interior regions after what came from Anzillu’s realm got loose. Only later did I come up and make Atokhekwoi and later the Ihokhetlani, so I haven’t been the most accessible. You are correct in that I have not been fortunate enough to have guests or any others contact me, I seem to have assumed correctly that all of the others have been quite busy given what you have told me.”
“Indeed. Most of my encounters where chance one's or ones where I went to investigate something of clearly devine make. Odds are you’ve simply been unlucky since you came up to Galbar.” She insisted before thinking for a touch and asking, her concern clear in her voice “What has Anzillu’s realm done that you needed to contain?”
“Oh, I’m sure it will be fine once I speak to Anzillu, but since you ask there were some bacteria that seemed very unadapted for an environment outside of his realm. It was only of concern as they seemed to try to devour anything they came into contact with, from how they were leaking I assume they fill his realm although for what purpose they are for I do not know.” Ohannakeloi snapped his claws before continuing, “In any case, they were threatening the general stability and support structure of Galbar, I repaired and improved the system into my own realm and took measures to contain further leaks. The system itself was already under some strain from the work of the other gods so it is good I had the opportunity at least, Galbar should be fine as long as my realm continues.”
“I admire your optimism, but ah, having the domain of Demons does not inspire me with much confidence. I don’t remember much of my life before the void with any clarity, but the word ‘demons’ is ringing a lot of alarm bells apparently. An awful lot… At any rate the tales I’ve heard of the likes of Orvas, Vakk, Sartravius, Melantha and what I have seen Katharsos doing indicate that a number of the gods may be rather destructive in their nature. We’ve also already had one, possibly two, attempts at divine murder as well... Just be careful is all I am saying.” she warned
He snapped one claw and tapped his shell with the other saying, “I chose my form to be strong, glorious and protected. I am prepared in mind and body for any who would challenge me! Although to be fair, I’ve scarcely been in contact, let alone contestation, with the other divines.”
“Well that’s good to hear. I haven't been in direct conflict in any either so really I have no idea how a fight between those with our power would go. Anzuillu, Vakk, Katharsos and Sartravius have gone for great size if I remember rightly, where as Orvus and Melantha have the pretty common humanoid shape and size but with varying levels of being made out of dark energy of some kind. she contemplated “I should probably think about tactics to counter them at some point... I do know that we have been given a great deal of resilience. I’ve survived a two natural catastrophes and Asceal survived being inside a sun that exploded. So a fight probably comes down to containing or driving off your opponent rather than killing a god. Anyway. In summary. Good to know you are prepared.
Ohannakeloi simply snapped his claws again in response, evidently unconcerned about his defensive capabilities.
“I do believe that we should discuss a topic at hand now that we have gone beyond the more pleasant pieces of conversation. You are quite fired up in your speech about Katharsos, as I have been told, and you have a notable list of others who you seem to be in general opposition against. What do you intend to do Azura?
“While I have spoken of others I should dial back my accusations just a touch by saying that all of the misgiving I have with regards to them are a result of things I have heard rather than witnessed. Most from a trusted source it is true, but for the moment I simply intend to be wary of them and to warn others to do the same. Perhaps there are misunderstandings involved, or other sides to their stories. I cannot say for now. Melantha in particular is someone I can see possible reasons to empathise with. With Katharsos however, I have seen his crimes with my own eyes, and cannot stand idle by while he continues to commit them… you know most of what I am doing already.“ she said, before cautiously asking “How you feel about what Katharsos has done?“
“I do not know. I would think killing to be wrong, but then I feel it is justified under some circumstances, I could not think of something that would meet this scale and if what you have said is true it would be right to oppose the action. I cannot but think what would drive one to do such, if my memory is truthful Katharsos was the first to leave with such purpose after the Architect's actions, perhaps there is some secret knowledge but that is only a hypothetical. So I do not know for I do not know enough, and I do not mean offense but I only have one source for this at this time, so forgive me for not planning to take much action at this time.”
Azura made an exasperated sound before shaking her head “No I should not get frustrated by your response. Its a sound one, I too had to go see the sky pyres for myself when I was told. It’s good enough to know that you agree that such an act is unjustifiable. Aceal and Ashalla might be good people to ask if you don’t want to travel to the pyres right away. Aceal is with me in this while as Ashalla knows but does not seem indifferent to what Katharsos is doing. I won’t try and press you into joining us, instead can I simply ask that you look into verifying what I have told you and that you don’t make Katharsos aware of what I am doing to oppose him?“
“I will hold off on saying anything that may bring harm down on anyone, as well I will hold off on alerting Katharsos on anything that he would not already know. I make no absolute promises you understand, I will look into verifying the facts of the matter, the truth if you will. I will wait so as to try to avoid disrupting your efforts for now at the very least. I will have to travel to the Pyres if I am to get the information that I will need to know better, I do thank you for the references however. I would urge you not to act too rashly, I know you will do what you feel must be done and I do not advise you do otherwise, but I would take into consideration that if you can organize an attempt to get what you want once, you can do it again if you live. Since I think we both know what you will end up attempting whether soon or later, just don’t get killed in the attempt.”
Azura bowed her head in appreciation “Thank you Ohannakeloi. I appreciate your discretion and will take your advice to heart. It is a sick kind of calculus I must do, each moment of preparation paid for in lives spent. Though in this case that preparation is preventing more souls from going to the pyres. The Ihokhetlani have fortunately suffered no casualties thus far, but there seem to be other mortals around as some of the Alma have already moved on from here to places unknown. I’ll be needing to get the word out of my intentions to them so they can decide to be saved. After that it’s only a matter of time till word gets out and things escalate either way.“ Azura paused for a moment before adding “So I should probably get going soon, unless there are things you would like to discuss with me further?“
“I have nothing more to discuss in particular.” Ohannakeloi dug himself back out of the resting layer of stone he had settled into before continuing, “I wish you well on your journey, whatever that may end up being. I will see you another time.”
“Thank you again. It was good to meet you Ohannakeloi. Be safe.“ She responded, before turning, walking a bit away and then launching herself from the mountain and back into the blue skies that followed here everywhere.
Ohannakeloi and Azura meet on a mountain top and exchange pleasantries Many things are discussed, from the Ihokhetlani, to Azura’s creations and the gods she has met. Ohannakeloi express interest in meeting Shengshi and Azura tells him that she has heard he is an excellent host and relays some outdated news about the feud with Kalmar and his companion Xiaoli she got from Aceal. Ohannakeloi says that he has not had an opportunity to meet any gods since the Architect's palace due to being busy. He also mentions how he stoped the leakage of Anzuillu’s grey goo bacteria into his Sphere. Azra then badmouths/gossips about a bunch of other gods who people have told her are bad The issue with Katharsos, his soul murder and Auzra’s soul crystal solution are discussed last. Ohannakeloi indicates that he would oppose Katharsos’s actions if he can verify that Azura is speaking the truth. He says he will investigate and not alert Katharsos to Azura’s plans for the time being, but explicitly does not promise anything. Azura accepts this. Ohannakeloi warns her to be careful and not go rushing into things, while Azura counter that the every second she spends preparing results in more death that could have been prevented. Based on that line of thinking she gets antsy to head off and get back to work. The two bid one another farewell and Azura takes off, leaving Ohannakeloi on the mountain top
The midday heliopolis poured through the windows of Hermes and Xiaoli's house. Middle spring scents were in the air and today Hermes found them pleasant. The popping of cloudlings had increased, the spring cohort being born from the sugary blossoms. The Dreamer bit her finger as she thought to herself. She sat on a nicely made wooden chair, slouched ever so slightly and deep in thought.
What was Xiaoli thinking, she asked herself. The events of the morning were terrifying and in her mind, not quite justified. She was well aware Xiaoli had said she'd never do it again, but it still sat funny in her stomach; what if something really had happened, would Xiaoli have an outburst of violence? She shuddered at the thought, especially when she placed the scenario far in the future.
”Pop.”
“Yeah,” Hermes didn't even bother to look at Poppler, “I just don't want to upset her.”
”Crackle.”
“Of course I'm mad, that was ridiculous and dangerous,” Hermes looked at the cloudling incredulously. There was a gentle ‘Zzt’ and Hermes sighed, “You're right.”
The Dreamer scooted off her chair and slipped on her sandals. Tightening the clasp, she scurried out of the room and into the hallway, almost ramming right into Xiaoli.
Xiaoli barely managed to slow down in time to avoid collision, having to lift the stone tray with tea cups in her hands far above her head. She blinked once or two. “A-are you in a hurry?” she said carefully as she lowered the tray to chest level again.
“No,” Hermes shook her head, “Sorry, I was looking for you.” She eyed the cups, “Tea?”
Xiaoli nodded faintly. “Y-yeah… I just thought, y'know, we could eat lunch.” She put on a somewhat forced smile. “I made sweet grass and walnut salad, too, though I left that one on the table in the main house. Would you like to join me?”
“That's sweet of you,” Hermes gave her a half cheeked smile, “Sure, I wanted to talk with you anyways.”
Xiaoli nodded a little frantically and turned on her heel, balancing the tray with uncharacteristic clumsiness. She led Hermes out of the family house to the courtyard, which she crossed at a northwest diagonal until she reached the still unfinished paveway to the northern house. The two followed the path to the central slider doors, which Xiaoli slid apart to reveal the neatly furnished dining room sporting a low table with a wool-upholstered pillow on each side and a sweet little pink flower in a vase on its top. The walls each had one painting on a wall-tall, metre wide paper sheet - one of them a painting representing the mushroom forest; the other, the tree-eater plains. The leftmost wall had shelves with bowls, plates and cups shaped and fashioned from rocks of varying colours and compositions, and the rightmost wall had a small clay oven with space on top for a pot - which in this case was a stone basin topped with a small steamer basket.
Xiaoli put the tray down on the table and walked over to the steamer. She lifted the lid off and extracted two woolen towels. She replaced the lid, walked over to Hermes and offered her a hot towel.
“Here - for your hands.”
“O-oh,” Hermes tangled with the tiny towel and cautiously sat down on one of the pillows. She squeezed the warm towel in her fist and looked around, “You’ve been busy, huh?”
Xiaoli smiled. “Nothing less than perfect! Of course, I’m not even close to done - I’m thinking at least two more paintings on each side, then perhaps I’ll cover the wooden floor with a carpet - or possibly a reed mat.” She poked her chin pensively and shifted between the floor and the walls. “I think reed mats will be best, actually - oh! But that’s for a later date! First, lunch!” She skipped over to the shelves, grabbed two bowls and two sets of chopsticks. She then shuffled over to the table, placing down Hermes’ bowl and cutlery before her own.
“Please, have some salad!” she insisted as she placed out tea cups.
Hermes looked at her bowl and then the pile of sweetgrass and nuts. She sighed, her stomach brickwalled with what was on her mind. Furrowing her brow she looked up at Xiaoli, “Hey, Xiaoli?”
The river girl gave her a smile as she poured tea, then sat down. “Hmm? Yes?”
Hermes put her arms over the table and held out her hands, “I have something on my mind, and I need to put it to rest.”
Xiaoli’s brow furrowed and she looked away. She picked up her teacup and sipped it sheepishly. “The tea is better when it’s hot…”
Hermes’ palms fell on the table and she dragged her arms back. She pursed her lips and sighed, “Right.” She took her cup and sipped at it tentatively, “Its- it’s good tea, Xiaoli.” She sighed into her cup and placed it back down, “I just want to talk about it, don’t you? We can get it out of the way and then we can go back to being happy.” Hermes whined, “Please, Xiaoli. You’ve been avoiding me since this morning.” Xiaoli’s lips pressed against each other and she frowned at the floor. She grabbed the teapot and refilled their two cups. She looked briefly at Hermes, then back to the floor. “A-... Are you sure you wouldn’t like some salad first?”
Another sigh and Hermes rubbed the side of her face, bringing her fingers to pinch the bridge of her nose, “Sure.”
Xiaoli’s smile returned briefly and she pinched a few stickfulls of salad onto Hermes’ and her own plate. She took a bite of walnut and let out a sigh through her nose. After swallowing, she gave Hermes another curt glance.
“Did it taste alright?”
Hermes looked up from her plate, swallowing after a lethargic chew, “Yes,” She sighed, “Of course it does. You always make wonderful food, but--” She looked off to the side, “I’m not Shengshi, I’m the mother of your children.” She fiddled with the now cool towel, “We can’t avoid each other and we can’t avoid talking about our problems.”
Xiaoli kept her eyes on the tea in her cup. She sucked in a deep breath, then another, then let out a sigh. “Alright… Let’s talk, then.”
“I know you said you’d never do it again already, but that was really scary, Xiaoli,” Hermes jumped right in as if she had been holding it back, “It was very scary, and-- and it wasn’t a healthy reaction. I just want to make sure you really won’t react like that again, I want to make sure that something isn’t wrong because I-”
Hermes groaned as a tear fell, she wiped it away, “Sorry, I’m not even sad-- it’s the,” She shook her head and continued, “I just want us to be as healthy and happy as possible, and this morning you gave me a lot to worry about. I know I was being anxious and my words started it, but..” She shrugged and rubbed her eye, “I don’t know.”
Xiaoli’s eyes still looked down, but she raised a fist to wipe away what one could assume were tears. “I thought I explained it this morning - the knowledge within that book, the possibility of the twins taking your life with them on the way out… It felt like the cave again, Hermes.” She looked up and to the side, shooting the outside a furious scowl. “... The thought of your life in danger, it--” She took a deep breath and let out a hacking breath. “For a moment after you said that you may not--” She swallowed. “--I felt like the world was mocking us - I could not hold back.”
She paused. Hermes slouched, “Okay…” She seemed to think for a moment, “But Xiaoli. In the cave, there was an actual threat that could be dealt with through fighting. There was none of that here, and I’m not saying you can’t be mad or sad, but,” she paused, “You can’t be so violent, especially with this new world we are entering; that’s why it bothers me. That sort of violence isn’t healthy for any of us, and I never seen you that way before -- I just want to make sure that that was the only time I ever will.”
“And it was!” Xiaoli said in frustration. “I already said it was a one time incident this morning, didn’t I?”
“I guess I’m just not over it, yet.” Hermes folded her arms, “Just… just promise me again, one more time. Please.”
Xiaoli closed her eyes tightly and blinked some watery beads away. “Did you think I would hurt you?” she mumbled somberly.
“You really scared me, I didn’t know what to think,” Hermes sat up, “You punched a hole right next to my head.”
Xiaoli’s face paled and her mouth gaped slightly. “So-... So you actually thought that--” Her eyes welled up and she lifted a hand to wipe them dry, but could not seem to dry them completely. “Wh-why… Am I like this?” she whimpered. “Have I scared you before, Hermes?! Have I?!”
“No, Xiaoli,” Hermes sighed and slouched again, “You haven’t, and I know you’d never hurt me on purpose.” She closed her eyes and held out a hand, “Can you- come, come here.”
Xiaoli let out a curt sob and swiftly crawled around the side of the table to sit next to Hermes and clung to her arm. “Hermes, I--!” She coughed and sniffed. “I promise! I promise to never do it again! I promise--!” Her word was interrupted by another cough-like sob.
Hermes rubbed her back, “I know, Xiaoli.” She made a slant with her lips as she thought, her brow furrowed, “Xiaoli, can I ask you a question?”
Xiaoli looked up with wide, glinting eyes. “H-huh?”
Hermes looked down with concerned eyes of her own, “You don’t… You don’t.” She exhaled through her nose, “I don’t know how to say this.”
“What? Hermes, I don’t what?” Her brow furrowed in uncertainty.
The dreamer chewed on her thoughts for a little before finally saying, “You don’t ever treat me like you’re my servant… do you?”
Xiaoli blinked and pulled back. “Would… Would that be a problem?” she asked quietly.
Hermes blinked back, “Well,” she said slowly, “Remember how you said we are equal? We are partners.”
Xiaoli let out a sigh. “W-well, yes, but--” She took a deep breath. “--it feels better for me to think that way. Don’t get me wrong - I don’t think of you as a master! You are my partner - my love - my equal! It’s just…” She took Hermes’ hand and squeezed it. “... I don’t mind being servile.”
Hermes squeezed her hand back, “But… just never put me before you or on a pedestal. We are equal in this, Okay?”
“Equals, yes!” Xiaoli replied. She pouted a little. “It’s just how I am, Hermes… I consider you my equal, of course, but I cannot forget that I am a servant at my core. It comes as naturally to me as, well, breathing comes to you.”
The dreamer breathed a little, as if punctuating a point to herself. She sighed and nodded, “Okay, I trust you; just as long as it stays healthy.” Hermes paused, “I do like all the little things you do, too.”
Xiaoli smiled faintly, even releasing a quiet giggle. “If it helps, I really like doing those little things, too.”
Hermes let out a long exhale, a small smile forming on her lips. In one fell swoop she tugged Xiaoli into a hug and squeezed, “Please don't ever avoid me again.”
Xiaoli froze momentarily before her arms eventually wrapped themselves around Hermes’ back. “I--” She took a deep breath. “I won’t… I promise.”
Hermes is sits on bed contemplating how to talk to Xiaoli about her Kylo Ren rampage earlier that day. Upon deciding, she exists the bedroom and nearly collides with Xiaoli, who was just about to invite her for tea. They head over to the dining hall, where Xiaoli proceeds to ignore and avoid any and all of Hermes’ attempts to talk about her episode. Finally, Hermes manages to break through, and Xiaoli says she feels the need to murder something whenever Hermes is threatened. Hermes finds this hella scary, though, so she’s like “can you not?” to which Xiaoli answers, “I can not.”
Afterwards, the Dreamer asks Xiaoli if she sees Hermes as a master. Xiaoli says that she sees them as equals, but that she can’t really help being servile, as it’s kinda her thing. They hug and make up.
”So…” Atalantia spoke up after a long moment of silence. ”Do you have some thoughts in regards to the various gods of this world?” Atalantia, Karamir, and Pyrdon had been traveling about for some time. Most of the time had been filled with viewing the landscape and Atalantia teasing Karamir. The last few hours, however, had been spent in relative silence. At least as silent as possible given Pyrdon thunderous steps.
Pyrdon shifted his head, almost as if he meant to answer the question, but seemed to change his mind after a moment. It was impossible for any present to determine whether it was because he had no real opinion, felt it wasn’t appropriate for him to judge the various gods, or simply decided the question was directed at Karamir. Instead the massive dinosaur simple continued on his course, his head occasionally swaying from side to side as he watched the landscape, and various creatures in it, around them.
Karamir shook his head. ”I only know what Kalmar told me,” he said, raising his voice to be heard over Pyrdon’s thundering steps. ”Orvus is dangerous, Shengshi is stubborn, Chopstick is strange, Phystene is good. I haven’t met them, so how can I form my own opinions?”
”Fair enough. All I know I’ve obtained from mother. I know that she would never lie to me, but I’m sure even she would say she isn’t exactly an unbiased source of information.” Atalantia shrugged. ”I agree with you that Orvus is dangerous. He’s a foe we’ll have to completely defeat eventually. Shengshi… is something of an enigma to mother and I find him to be a bit odd as well. Chopstick is… probably a being to be wary of. As for Kalmar:” she looked over her shoulder at Karamir and gave him a smile. ”Well he seems like a cool guy. Maybe I should ask him to take me out to dinner some time.”
Karamir blinked in confusion, unsure if he heard that correctly. ”Whut?” he asked, after a moment had passed.
”Guess that joke went over your head.” Atalantia said with a sigh. ”Maybe someday you’ll get it.”
”No, what did you say? I really don’t think I heard you correctly…” Karamir said, the confused expression not leaving his face.
”What? I was just joking about asking Kalmar out to dinner.”
That only served to bemuse him even further. Eventually, he shook the feeling off. He did not understand this woman. ”I don’t see how that’s a joke. And besides, based on the memories he shared with me, I think he’d prefer to go with your mother,” Karamir said with a shrug.
Atalantia let out a soft chuckle. ”Well wish him the best of luck on my behalf next time you see him then. I think that, given mother used to be a plant, or something, that he’s got his work cut out for him.
”Where is your mother, anyway?” Karamir asked her.
”Honestly? I have no idea whatsoever. She told me she’d check in on me every once in a while, but didn’t give me the ability to send her a message.
”If she’s close enough” Pyrdon spoke up, She might be able to hear me.
”Wha-” Atalantia had just begun the question when Pyrdon opened his mouth and let out a roar.
”Ok, well that was less than pleasant.” Atalantia commented, wincing from the ringing in her ears. ”Like, give us a warning next time please.”
”You know you can just contact her by praying, right!?” Karamir shouted, holding his hands to his ears. ”Any mortal can do it, to any god! Kalmar told me!”
”Wait. WHAT?! Pyrdon why didn’t you tell me?!”
”I’m not the one with a massive amount of information implanted directly into my head by a goddess.” Pyrdon answered dryly. Atalantia scowled at the back of his head, which he was obviously oblivious of, before closing her eyes and ‘praying’ as Karamir had said she could. Her eyes shot open as Pyrdon came to a sudden stop, her hands grasping for handholds as she started to slip off of his back. Once she was settled and no longer at risk of falling off she followed Pyrdon’s gaze.
Phystene stood on the forest floor before them, waving at the three mortals with a soft smile on her face.
”Huh… well it actually worked. Phystene waved her hand in a wider motion and suddenly the ringing in both Atalantia’s and Karamir’s eyes subsided.
Karamir climbed down, jumping the last few feet and landing on the ground with a soft thud. He saw Phystene and his eyebrows raised slightly. Kalmar had not told him how to speak to the other gods. Awkwardly, he returned her wave and kept his mouth shut.
Pyrdon lowered his head to the ground so that Atalantia could slide off and stand next to Karamir. ”Hey mom. This is Kalson. Kalmar’s first mortal.”
”Hello Kalson.” Her smile seemed to widen ever so slightly. ”I hope my daughter hasn’t been giving you too hard of a time.”
”I am the best companion anyone could ever ask for!” Atalantia responded with mock indignation. Phystene only shook her head, her smile turning to one of amusement.
”My name is Karamir,” Karamir corrected with a frown.
”I figure if we all keep calling him Kalson it’ll eventually stick.”
Phystene rolled her eyes. ”Stop being rude to the young man.”
”Yes mother.” Her tone made it abundantly clear that the moment Phystene was absent she would resume her previous behavior.
”So Kalso- Karamir. How have you found life here?”
”I…” Karamir began, but was unsure how to continue. How could he describe it? He took a deep breath, and all the thoughts he had for the past few days came pouring out. ”Everything either wants to kill me or run away from me. Aside from Kalmar and your daughter, there has been nobody else to talk to. I drink, I eat, I sleep, and then I wake up and do it all again. What’s the point?” he asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and weariness.
”I suppose that would be… awfully lonely.” Phystene said after a moment. ”What did Kalmar tell you. Why did he bring you into this world?”
”He said he created me so that I could survive, adapt, and change…” Karamir said. ”And that I need to be able to do those things on my own if I want to become stronger.”
Phystene seemed to think for a moment before speaking again. ”It sounds like you need to create your own purpose in life. Perhaps you could produce some offspring? Or go on great hunts in Kalmar’s name?”
”I can’t produce offspring, and unlike your daughter I have no interest in fornicating with wolves,” Karamir sighed. ”That just leaves hunting… but is that all there is?”
Phystene gave her daughter a bemused look, but chose not to comment about any possible fornication with wolves.”Perhaps I can solve your offspring problem.” Phystene commented. ”But it sounds like that won’t resolve your underlying problem. I’m afraid there probably isn’t all that much I can do to help you. Some of us are lucky to find our purpose in life early on. Others.... Must expend some effort to find theirs. It may be difficult on you now, but eventually you’ll find that thing that gives you pleasure in life and the gift of purpose.”
Karamir frowned. Her words, though softer than Kalmar’s, more or less meant the exact same thing. It was not what he wanted to hear, nor did he find it helpful in any way. ”Then what should I do?” he asked her. ”Wander the land until either I die or something new happens?”
Phystene let out a soft sigh and gave a sad shake of her head. [color=forestgreen]”You hear, but don’t listen. You are not some rock stuck in the ground, unable to affect your surroundings except in a passive way. You are a living, thinking being. Don’t wait for a purpose. Seek it! Does a hawk simply wait for its meal to amble on over to it, keel over, and die? Of course not. The hawk takes flight and seeks out its next meal. You need to find your purpose. Or make it where there was no purpose before.”
”But when the hawk finds its meal, it only goes on to eat another. Why? It eats to continue eating. Then it dies and gets eaten by something else. How can I find a purpose beyond that? Where do I look?”
”That’s not a question I’m capable of answering.” Phystene admitted after a moment. ”I wish I had all the answers you seek, truly I do, but unfortunately the world doesn’t work that way.”
Karamir remained silent and grit his teeth. This was of no help. She would not tell him anything that his creator had not told him already. But there had to be something more. There had to be! He glanced at Atalantia, and then at Pyrdon. ”I’ll find my own path, then.” he said at last, with bitterness in his voice, and turned away.
”Sorry.” Phystene said and truly sounded like she meant it. ”I would help you, if I could. Perhaps in the future I will be able to, once you have found your way. Yes. I’ll give you a boon. Perhaps a power of some kind. A mate? Give some thought. Some real thought. And when you are ready pray to me.”
Karamir stopped in his tracks. For a moment, he almost looked back. Then he clenched his fists. ”I’ll think about it,” he said quietly, and continued walking.
”Good.” She said before turning to Atalantia. ”Now as for you…. Let’s make a few changes.” She walked over to Atalantia and placed a hand on her head, pouring a small amount of power into her. ”I’m giving you the same aura of fertility as the vitasaurs.” She said in answer to the question in Atalantia’s eyes. ”And I have been thinking that I should provide you with some… strength of your own. It wouldn’t do if you died of old age while I was looking away. Or if some foul beast of Orvus’ blundered upon you.” She poured yet more power into Atalantia, empowering her until she became a being beyond a mere mortal, a hero of sorts. ”Now go. Observe the world and see what the other gods have been up to.” She then turned around and disappeared into a nearby tree.
”Bye mom.” Atalantia said.
Karamir meets Phystene and is a complete bitch Phystene grants Atalantia an aura of fertility and makes her a hero
Phystene Starting: 3 MP and 4 FP 2 FP to grant Atalantia an aura of fertility 2 MP to turn Atalantia into a hero Ending: 1 MP and 2 FP 5/5 MP towards Fertility port
There was something strange, a drifting consciousness floating through the air where time seemed to slow to an immense crawl. The consciousness, looked around, seeing three being standing over a body, one marred in the blood of a gruesome murder that could have been avoided. It stared for a few timeless moments, wondering what to do before it decided that it did not want to visit the Sky of Pyres quite yet. Such was not the fate of a god, at least, not a true god.
When it anchored with the bloodied one, it’s memories came back in a sudden flow of before it realized what had truly happened. Vakk had been murdered, perhaps a fate it may have deserved for charging in with no plan and no contingency. However, it refused to die in such a way not without fighting for longer than any would properly realize as even in death, Vakk lived. It hid within Eurysthenes’ presence, knowing that it would likely be none the lesser until it was alone.
By the time, Eurysthenes had made it back to the Infinite Maze, Vakk has made itself comfortable within the form and had begun to speak whispers into the back of Eurysthenes’ mind. The Lord of Speech allowed time to pass, knowing that it could do what it wanted with what the puzzling gods mind.
”We exist together now… two corpses, in one grave.”
Vakk’s words cast a long silence as the its presence was announced within Eurysthenes, but its words were far different than what Eurysthenes had known. These words were spoken by a cacophony of voices, no booming voice that Eurysthenes would find familiar but the weight of those words were all the same.
It seemed there was no getting rid of him. Eurysthenes wondered how it didn't see this before, back when they were celebrating victory. There was a space in the spirit where another lurked and festered, like a disease waiting for the time to spring. This would take some getting used to.
”Vakk… to be like, which is to be done. Who are you to decide that you are not?”
”I am a god immortal, dying would not be befitting in my nature nor would it be yours,” That One stated, giving an evil chuckle as it moved around Eurysthenes’ form. Vakk was clearly not used to such a small space as the body of Eurysthenes, finding it most uncomfortable to be in. However, it eventually settled in with another laugh next the other godly soul.
”Your body is my own now,” the voices chimed with a sadistic pleasure.
This One pushed against Vakk, smearing it into an uncomfortable position again. ”One which inhabits something does not own it. What lies maliciously in a body, bringing grief and pain to that which it inhabits?”
That One shifted once more, pushing back the oppressive soul of the other before speaking, ”There is no need for insults, Eurysthenes. I am no less a parasite than you are, gaining pleasure at the expense of myself.” Vakk’s voices did not give Eurysthenes the pleasure of being dissatisfied, instead continuing to speak with the sadism that only Vakk could carry.
”It is not parasitic to seek to right wrongs, Vakk,” it said, ”Were I you, I wouldn't be speaking with such cockiness.” It said simply. Riddles weren't as entertaining if the other could see the answer in the riddler’s mind.
This One raised an arm, and touched the wall. ”Tell me, Vakk. Can you feel this? Can you see as I see?”
Vakk took a moment before the many voices spoke once more, ”Yes. However, it is strange. I am still not used to inhabiting your form.” The soul of That One began to stir once more finding refuge away from Eurysthenes’ soul in order to find some figment of comfort.
”Now, you tell me. Were my crimes truly worth death?”
This One considered the question for a second, which was more than it thought Vakk deserved. ”Yes.” it said. There was a certain sternness to its voice which said more than the word alone could.
”That means you would be deserving of death as well. Breaking me in this maze, just as I had broken Li’Kalla,” Vakk said, its voices chiming with a chilling tone as the words flowed with the same power of Eurysthenes own words. That One finally settled into a spot on the opposite end of the form, briefly thinking to itself in a light silence between the two. It had brought back up the time of the Maze, the time when Eurysthenes tortured Vakk as it had attempted to reach the Sky of Pyres.
As Vakk shrank back, Eurysthenes advanced, pushing That One even further into the recesses. If the soul within a body could smile spitefully, this is what This One’s soul was doing.
”Yes,”, This One admitted, ”but you were the one that died. Why is that? Because there were more of us who were in agreement with me. And what does that tell you of deserving? What does it say about how others perceive right and wrong, Vakk?” The tone in its voice was what you could call petty and smug. It had won, it was in the superior position, and it knew it.
”It tells me that you are no better than I. But you have committed the far more heinous act of murder,” Vakk retorted, not allowing itself to be fully pushed without resistance to the words of its host. The soul pushed back, asking, ”What gives you the right to live more than I?”
”You only condemn it because you were the one affected by it. Nothing gives me the right to live more than you,” Eurysthenes says simply. ”however, the will of others gives me the means to.” it concludes.
”If that is your prerogative, murderer,” That One responded before the soul stopped pushing against Eurysthenes’. There was a long silence between them as the two figured out what to do next, neither coming across a suitable topic to insult each other on. Many long drawn out sighes happened at once before Vakk chose to speak again, this time commanding, ”Build me a new body so that this may not plague either any longer.”
Eurysthenes shrugged. ”I won't do that. You're too cruel, and you will hurt innocent people. No,” it said
”Innocent? So you defend thieves now, hm? How odd that you and the other gods would defend so heinous crimes,” Vakk commented, its many voices filling with a disdain for Eurysthenes denial of his request.
This One hid a snort with the back of its hand. ”Woe betide you, Vakk. Truly you are the epitome of suffering.”
”Well… I did get killed. I suppose it is justified.”
This One didn't deign to reply.
The post starts from Vakk’s point of view as a soul, looking over his own body before attaching to Eurysthenes. After which, revealing its before the two are alone.
Eury, very much does not like this, both of them do not like it, except Vakk does like it more because Eury doesn’t. However, Eury does call That One one a parasite since Vakk continues to cause pain, only to be called a parasite itself for getting pleasure of humiliating Vakk in the maze.
Eury defends itself, before asking Vakk if it could feel. Turns out Vakk can, though it is still getting used to the body.
Vakk asks if its crimes were actually worth death, Eury says yes. By that logic, Vakk says Eury also deserves to die. Despite that, Eurysthenes claims the moral high ground of having more people of its side. Though Vakk still points out that they had committed murder.
Vakk eventually orders Eury to build a new body for it, Eury says no because Vakk is a bad guy. The two share a bitter silence shortly after that.
Alright so Eury was in his sphere and he was going “why can I hear Vakk's voices, yo?”
it was mad weirded out
Vakk was not a good guy and it'd rather not have him inside it thank you very much
Phrasing
Then Vakk was all
Gotcha bitch, I lived
And Eury went “o fuk, go away”
Vakk: no u >:[
Eury staggered at the might of his comeback, gasping for air
“N-nani?!”
Vakk: mwhahaha I hitched a ride and you cants get rid of me
Eury: nuh uh betch, you can't escape *me* It locks the doors like a predator
Vakk: “Oh fug”
Eury: “yeah you're right.. this is the pits”
“you suck”
Vakk; “hey. Make me a body and I’ll leave like a good boi.”
Eury: “No way, daddyo. You're a bad Boi”
Vakk: “Nu u. U made me hurt myself”
Eury: “nuh uh. That didn't happen.”
Vakk: “You also killed me, thus you owe me a body. Feg”
Eury: “yeah but
But
Uh
You weren't supposed to still be alive!”
Vakk: “Well too bad, I am
Now, make me body plox”
Eury: “be cool first” *sunglasses put on”
Vakk: “but but…. MAYBE NEXT POST BAKA”
Eury: “Alright, no body ever then”
Vakk: “that’s not fair! I’m the antagonistic god!”
Eury: “not after I'm done with you”
Vakk:”... at least ask me out to dinner first”
Eury: “pants down, present yourself, wait, and I'll get the rope”
Something wasn’t quite right, she felt weird, then all of a sudden she was in a place. A really strange place. She couldn’t quite believe what she saw, but at the same time is was vaguely familiar. They were in a small market, within an even larger market. Rows and rows of hands- gloves hands or floating rings and other items that begged there to be someone or something wearing them, but there wasn’t. Each hand seemed to lord over their own respective stalls, selling items she had never even heard of before. She was so mesmerized with what she was seeing, she could hardly even try and describe it. There was no sun and no sky, just thousands of lights suspended in the vast air above them. The atmosphere was filled with hustle and bustle of voices she couldn’t make out and distant music, very distant but discernible all the same.
“ ? . ‘! “ , .. ! , ! ” ”
“ “” !. ”.”””!? ”...” “ “!’ “. ”
“,,” ? .”” ! ‘’, (). ,,” ,?”
Arya turned to Split, her expression wide with disbelief, and she said, ”I don’t think we are on Galbar anymore.” Arya then bent down over Penelope’s head and gave her some good scratches. ”Good girl Penelope. I should never have doubted you.” and as she continued to scratch, right behind the bunnies ear, Penelope lifted her back leg up and began to thump.
“No, we aren’t.” The kostral stretched her arms with a series of loud snaps and scratched the side of her head. “Not in any hole I know either. Strange to feel the part where you’re going down, don’t you think? Thought the dark would keep going for a deal more.” She satisfiedly slapped the jackalope’s side. “Good thing she came through after all. I’d’ve hated to have to smack the other Chops too. Didn’t look like she could take it.”
Split slipped down from the cover, axe in hand, and crawled towards a nearby stall. She poked her head warily towards the colourful pieces of fabric arranged over it, waved away an overzealous glove, and swept her side-eyes over the small place they stood in. “So this is a market. Doesn’t feel that different from home. Only difference is these folk’d get a lot more done if they’d go looking for who needs their things rather than standing round waiting.” She threw a suspicious glance down an alleyway between two sparse rows. “That and there don’t look to be as many deadly things around, though I’d not be sure of that. Stay careful until we’ve seen better.”
Arya followed suit, and slid down Penelope. She walked over to Split, and said, ”This whole place is… Strange, but I don’t think there should be any danger we can’t overcome. Why else request a delivery? Now we just have to find out where to go.” Arya then eyed the stall next to Split, a gloved hand tapped its fingers on the wood, almost impatiently. The stall was selling a black, shiny substance, as well as crystals that glowed luminously. Almost like starlight. It was beautiful and mesmerizing and as she peered into to get a closer look, the hands stopped tapping the wood, and brought themselves together with a clap.
“ , ? ‘? ‘ “ “”” ? , ? . “ “” ! , ??”
Next thing Arya knew was the Hands were pointing to her. Before the hands now sat a piece of the black metal and a crystal the size of her hand. Still the hand pointed, now emphasizing. She looked down and held up the small bell, but the hands shook left to right, as if saying no, then pointed again. She let the bell fall back against her chest as she looked down at herself and knew what the hands wanted to trade- her dress. She backed up instantly, almost tripping on the fabric.
Her dress was out of the question, as much as those objects were pretty, she couldn’t willingly trade such a priceless gift. She turned to Split again and said, ”Come on, we have nothing to trade. Might as well hurry up and finish this quest.” Arya then walked over to Penelope and grasped the long strands of her hair, using them to climb up on the Jackalope’s back.
Split reluctantly tore herself from the sight of a hovering knife sectioning a slice of nondescript meat with quick, precise cuts. “Pity that.” One of her side-eyes remained fixed on the disembodied butcher’s work as she hobbled forward among the stands, motioning for Penelope to follow. “That one knows what it’s doing. Wouldn’t mind to learn those moves. Think they’d charge for that?” She scraped the axe’s blade, thinking of Choppy’s demeanour in business. “Never mind. I’d rather not find out after the deal’s done.”
“.. ” , , . ”” ” ”
The scratching of her finger imperceptibly turned to a rhythmic tapping, which swiftly fell into the tune of the distant melody. “Still have to see about the dangerous part, but I could handle staying here a bit. It’s calm for being busy. Work for a god doesn’t look bad this way.” She glanced at a particularly active glove that seemed intent on drawing the trio to its stall of oddly-shaped pots. “Unless they throw you out if you don’t buy anything a while.” Something following in the wake of those words brought her to a halt. “You have an idea of where we’re going?”
Arya sat cross legged on Penelope’s head, eyeing every stall as they passed and looking at the assortment of items trying to be sold to them. She was still unsettled by it all, the place creeped her out. She clutched the coffee flask in her hand now, rubbing it with her thumb as they strolled through the market. She looked down at Split once they stopped.
Arya knew the answer to Split’s question and said, ”Wasn’t it something about a Palace?” she paused, blinked, then said, ”At least, that’s what I think Choppy said when she spoke to the world. Something about Li’Kalla too, she has a free stay there or something. It shouldn’t be too hard to find? Right Penelope?” she said, patting the bunnies head.
”I don’t know Split, there’s just something about this place that I find really… unsettling. Can’t you hear the whispers? It’s hard to describe, but picture a lot of people…” she paused in thought then said, ”No, picture a lot of me, multiple me’s, all having a conversation but one you can never make out or tell where it’s coming from. And that music, it’s… unnerving. Not to mention,” she began to whisper loudly, ”I don’t think they like us being here. Especially if we have nothing to trade.” she then held up her hand in front of her chest, not to be obvious, and pointed to the stalls.
“ “! “‘ ‘ ! ! ‘ , . . ” !”
The kostral turned her head upwards, straining her senses. “They really must mind that we’re not buying. We’ve got business, though. Can’t chase us out just like that.” She briefly pushed herself to her hind feet, walking a few steps upright before letting herself fall down on her middle arms again. “I like this quiet speaking better, I’ll tell you. It’d be bad if it was quiet. Imagine yourself a place like this with people working, but no sounds. No speaking, no music.” Her front eye winced. “That’s what my home is like, you know. Everybody just works, nothing else. Didn’t feel it back then, but I’d hate being there now. The quiet’s like something heavy on your head.”
She leaned in towards a metal pot bubbling over a fire, smelling the pale fumes that rose from its mouth. “Nothing like that here. Maybe they don’t want us to hear what they’re on about, but that’s their own business. You feel they’re alive, even if they don’t look it.” The oddity of what she had just said caught up to her with the last word, and she fell silent for some moments. “About looking, I can’t see a palace around. What’s the view from up there?”
”Stalls, colorful fabrics with stalls in them, other… things... I don’t really know how to describe them.” she said soft spoken. Split’s words seemed to resonate with her, they both hated the quiet. The girl floated off Penelope’s head, and down to Split’s level, her long dress rippling in the small air current.
After a moment of silence, Arya said, ”You know, I don’t like the quiet either, but this… this is but a pale comparison to what’s out there. I’m sorry your home was like that… mine is… much the same. But-” she said in a happy tone, then floated to face Split directly, ”When we get out of here, you should try and dream. There’s a palace there, it’s K’nell’s home. He’s the god of sleep and dreams, and, oh Split, it’s wonderful. All of the music and the colors and dancing, it’s magical. Just tell him I sent you, he’ll understand. But if that doesn’t work for you, I can take you to Shengshi’s river boat, when we are done here of course. It too, is a beautiful place, Split. And there, I can play you some music.” she said, before looking up at the sky. And idea came to mind.
She looked back to Split and said, ”Think about it, I’ll be right back!” she said happily, before flying up into the sky. She floated up and up, never really reaching the floating lights up above, but high enough to see the area around them and she saw nothing but stalls. She sighed, having thought that idea would work. She began to float back down, reaching the top of the stalls, but stopped when she noticed a small floating lantern coming right at her. She looked at it curiously as it neared, the ornate paper a beauty to behold. It floated in front of her for a second, then bobbed up and down, then began to fly off, slowly.
Call it a hunch, or something else, but Arya knew they needed to follow it. She turned to Split and said, ”Come on! You too Penelope! I think I know where to go!”
“You sure about this?” the kostral shouted upwards as she vaulted onto the jackalope’s back, slapping it with a rear hand on the way. “That looks like a bait if I’ve ever seen one.” It was all the worse that, while she recognised the motions and intent of a bait, she could not imagine what could have used a lure like that. It could not be anywhere near, not in that blackness; if it could move that lantern from far away… Split pictured to herself how large such a creature might have been and gripped her axe, teeth resolutely grinding together. If the market did have something in store for them, she was not going to be caught by surprise.
“That thing only moved when it saw you. Nothing’s to show it gets what we’re saying,” she continued in a more even voice, having settled on the cover, eyes and arms still alert. “Could be a beast for all we know. Don’t get too close.”
”I’m not sure about anything!” Arya shouted. Still, Split’s warning did not go unnoticed by the girl, and she drifted back, now directly over Penelope’s horns. ”You really think it’s a beast?” she asked, looking down at Split for a moment before looking up to follow the lantern. It seemed to float with a purpose, even though it drifted erratically, weaving in and out of stalls, down long rows, only then to jut sideways and go down another row. They almost lost it a couple of times, only for it to reappear directly in front of them, then it would shoot off again.
Then all at once, it stopped, and almost as suddenly as they halted, there stood before them a large building. It was trimmed with gold and had statues that reminded her of the Jiangzhou. Tentatively, she landed before the entrance and turned back to Split.
”I guess this is it? Would you… Could you lead the way?” she asked nervously.
“Not much of a choice here.” Grunting, Split landed on the paved ground - she was quite sure it had not been that way earlier - on four outspread hands, weapon held ready in the other two. A rear limb pointed a finger mid-step to gesture at Penelope, who was fruitlessly searching for anything resembling edible plant life. “Mind her.”
The grand entrance, however imposing, was little obstacle. If Chopstick’s staff thought there was anything inside worth locking up, she wouldn’t have left the gates wide open.
Or, perhaps, that the tall, skinless shadows that towered in the hallway were enough.
Split recoiled, wincing and lifting the axe in a defensive posture. The interior was much brighter than either the market or the palace’s front, and the incongruity of this almost dazzled her more than all the lamps and mirrors did. She fixed her gaze on the dark figures, the lanky stains in the decor a relief to her eyes. They were not really dark, she noticed. Their flesh gleamed faintly like iron, though she was not sure the light really fell on them at the right angles. The weapons were the dimmest part of them, rough and unpolished. They reminded her of black, sweltering, lichen-grown tunnels. Baring the tips of her teeth, she advanced into the hall.
The shadows stood still, blank white lights pointed forward. Maybe they were not looking at her. Maybe they were not even eyes at all.
Whatever they were doing, those were the first things here that at least looked like they might have been guarding something. Split tentatively lowered her axe. “You the security?”
A twang, like bent steel snapping back, and suddenly all four of them were looking at her. One of them emitted a scratching sound, like old, dried carapaces rustling together. Good enough. She turned her head backwards, making sure to keep one eye on the room. “I think we’ve got our people. Bring the coffee. They really do look dry.”
As much as she wanted to follow Split, Arya followed obeyed her command, and went to calm Penelope. She placed a hand on the jackalope’s cheek, right under eye, and watched as Split walked in. Her nervousness could be seen as she stroked Penelope over and over again, and it swiftly gave way to anxiety. She didn’t really know why, perhaps it was the thought of Split getting hurt? Or even worse…
So it came as a relief when Split finally called for her, and she said, ”Penelope, stay here girl. I’m coming Split!” and without waiting any further, she walked inside tentatively. Soon enough she came upon Split and, the ‘security’ team. They were extremely odd looking, but at the same time, they almost reminded her of her father. Minus the giant weapons they held, or how their bodies looked, but it was there all the same.
Cautiously, she walked past Split, and up to one of the closer creatures. The tension was palpable under their eyes. She held out the flask, and then said, ”Here you are, Coffee as wanted. The delivery is complete.” A slow hand reached out to take the coffee flask, its touch cold upon her skin, but as quickly as it came, it was over, and the flask was no longer in her possession.
She gave a small bow and backed up slowly, making sure nothing else was required or what the creature would do. After a moment, it made a sound.
“.~ {{ ^/ ()|\~|]* ** *[|~/|() \^ }} ~.”
Its voice was like a creaking hulk of a ship trying to hum in three directions at once. Arya turned around and quickly passed Split. ”Let’s get out of here. And now,” she said anxiously, without even stopping. Those creatures were almost as unsettling as the market, maybe even more.
Across the floor her feet hurried, through the doorway, away from the white lights that were watching her, and up to Penelope. Arya then floated up to the Jackalopes head and got on, turning around to wait for Split, who was not far behind.
“Guess we should.” Without anything more in particular to do, the kostral was keenly reminded of the familiar fact that idlers were welcome nowhere. “It’d be good to come back when we’ve actually got something to give. Doubt loading my pay off’ll work another time. Maybe those places you said’ve got things good enough for it.”
Under the incitations of its riders, the jackalope had begun to amble its way back though the stalls. It was difficult to say with certainty - despite the apparent variety of their surroundings, everything merged together into a single indistinct sea of noise and colours - but it seemed that the path it was taking was not the same that had led them here. The lantern was nowhere to be seen, nor the ink-mixer’s stand they had passed by earlier, nor even the stack of empty bird cages, which should have been unmistakable from any distance. Sights faded as soon as they were out of their eyes, drowned out by more and more rows, clusters, squares.
“... . “.. ‘ … . , .”” “ .’ “ ...”
It was not clear, either, when exactly their surroundings perceptibly changed. The stalls and lights were still there, of course, but they looked fewer and further between, the lanterns growing bleak with the distance. As Penelope plodded ahead, the changes steadily deepened. Wooden tables became worn, lined with old cuts, then outright beaten and rickety. The gloves were patched and threadbare, and the hovering rings poorly disguised cheap imitations. Even the ground, from what they could see on jackalope-back, was damp and grimy. The wares presented by the still-indefatigable hands had long ago passed into the realm of the dubious.
Split tasted the air uncomfortably. “Guess this is the way out. Got to say I liked it a lot more back inside. This looks like a backroom they don’t much care about.”
“ ? . ‘ ...”
Now Arya was very, very nervous. The place they had been traveling too and through, was completely different then what they had seen before. The girl was practically jittery with her movements, constantly looking around for danger or a way out. After awhile, she said, ”Penelope, take us home girl. Take us home!”
“Not sure we’ve all got the same idea of home.” The black rag of a tongue combed the air some more, as if searching for something familiar. “If Chops brought her from here, she might take us back in. This way doesn't smell great, but it's more than we had back then. Better keep going here.” She audibly sniffed the air. “Hold on, you feel something?”
Split had a point, it was a poor choice of words on her part, seeing as neither of them actually had a home worth going to. But in her haste, it sorta just slipped out. She looked to Split instantly when the Kostral spoke and said, ”Feel what?”
“I thought there was-” More sniffing, ending in a disappointed, or perhaps relieved snap. “Weird. Maybe the place just smells that bad.” She glanced towards a heap of moldy planks lying near the passage.
The planks were the last memorable thing she was to see of the market. The few remaining lights drew even further, shrinking to dots that did not illuminate anything beyond themselves. The rows of stalls were barely visible, dirty corners and dingy silhouettes peering out of the shadows. Points of lantern-light swam in a rill of something running along the path. The whispering did not stop, though it became more terse and furtive.
“We’re getting somewhere alright,” Split commented, scratching her head in disorientation. Patches of white light hovered somewhere far ahead. “Wish I knew where.” Penelope, for her own part, seemed to be quite confident of that, carrying her riders into the indistinct space ahead.
“Wait-!” A hand darted up in warning, while two more went for the axe. “I’m sure I felt it now. Don’t you?”
Arya had nestled herself atop Penelope’s head, eyeing the strangeness of the land before her as Split spoke. She sat up in alarm and looked back at her friend once more, eyeing her with curiosity.
Once again, she had felt nothing. ”Are you okay? I still don’t feel anything, Split.” she said.
“I do, though.” With a low snarl, she slid to the ground, signaling the jackalope to stop with a pat. “Smells right like a-”
Something large and dark snapped at her from the blackness. A thump followed by a grunt marked a narrow dodge. The thing snapped again, and with it another, and another. Blurred shapes swept before the distant white light, which were now the only ones in sight. Thick, rigid arms, tipped with frighteningly large three-pronged pincers. One of them, darting into sight more often than the others, had a fluttering piece of paper fastened to it by a manacle.
“Lurker!” came the belated conclusion of Split’s warning. A growl, and metal struck something’s hard shell. Gurgling, rattling noises sounded from distressingly near. “Worst place to- Back up! I’ll be right behind!”
The sudden attack sent Arya into a panic, she had no idea what a Lurker was but the thing before them was something out of a nightmare. She froze atop Penelope’s head, unable to speak or move. Kalmar’s training rushed to her head, but she had never actually expected to fight something so vile. So heinous. She need to do something. She couldn’t just run away. That was Split down there! With determination in her eyes, she stood up, preparing to jump down.
Then without warning, something struck the Jackalope and Penelope screamed. The bunny then bolted wildly, sending Arya flying backwards at the sudden explosion of muscle. She reached out, trying to grab onto Penelope’s fur but failed to maintain her grasp, and she landed sideways on the ground with a loud thud. The shock of the fall winded the girl as she rolled to a stop, her chest felt tight and she couldn’t breath.
As quickly as it set upon her, she let out a long, winded breath, stumbling as she tried to stand up too quickly. She fell on something warm and with a groan she looked down to see her dress covered in blood. It was on her face, and her arms and she began to shake as she looked down to the floor, long strands of Penelope’s hair littered the ground and a trail followed where the bunny had bolted too. She tried to get up again, but slipped as she screamed Penelope’s name, trying to get the Jackalope to return, but she was nowhere to be seen.
Black tears fell down her face as she looked over to Split fighting the creature. [i]The monster.[i/] It had hurt Penelope, it was going to hurt Split. She felt anger boiling up inside of her, and she wanted to make it pay. Steadily, the small girl got to her uneasy feet, her body beginning to smoke. An instinct kicked in, a deeper understanding coming to light as she rose her hand, palm facing outward, and a beam of black energy shot forth, hitting a section of the creature and disintegrating a portion of the creatures legs.
It gurgled and screamed out in pain and suddenly Arya was horrified with herself but it was far too late for that, as the creature broke away from Split, dodging her swipes, or simply not caring as it came for her. There was nothing she could do, but shut her eyes as she felt something hit her, a brief flash of pain erupting across her body, then the world went dark.
“Blaze you, told you to-” was all Split could growl out before a huge, quivering mass swept her aside, toppling her backwards. She slammed her mid-hands into the stone, breaking her fall in time not to be sent sprawling. By the time the drumming in her ears and the dull pain in her palms had died down, she could neither hear nor smell anything around herself. Not the lurker - what was one even doing here? - which was a relief, nor the jackalope, except for some clumps of fur, nor Arya. This was perhaps the least worrying, since the girl did not smell much of anything, but Split doubted this meant she might be still close by.
“Arya? You there?” she called out, keeping the axe high. If there was anything else around, it had to already have heard the sound of the struggle. No answer of any kind. She looked around, realising how lost she was. This was not even a tunnel, where you knew you would eventually come out somewhere if you followed it. Here, there was only darkness, those far-away lights, and the whispers. They seemed to have moved away during the fight, but were now settling back closer by. Somehow, she doubted they would be of much help either way.
Split fingered the clumps of jackalope hair at her feet. Blood. Good thing lurkers were slow on open ground, at any rate slower than a rabbit with legs larger than herself. Still, the thing’s crawling had erased any hope of following a trail. As much as she hated to admit it, both of her companions were on their own until she ran into them by chance.
The lights were her best bet, she thought. If only because they were the only thing anyone could see. Sooner or later, they would head that way. She might as well start now.
With wary steps, pausing every six or seven to listen for movement, Split-Tooth began to creep her way towards the blank, cold glow ahead.
The first thing Arya felt was pain, then the warmth of the sun and the smell of something sweet on the air. Her eyes opened up groggily, to view white clouds in a blue sky. She tried to sit up with a jolt, but a horrendous stab of pain shot up her body, causing her to groan, which she quickly stifled. She tried again, much slower as she put her hands on the grass and pushed herself upright. She looked down to see her dress in a state of disrepair. It was slashed in several places, so too was her body, small trickles of luminous white blood, her blood, mixed with the red.
Tears began to fall from her eyes. She looked around for Split and Penelope but did not see them, so she tried calling their names, her voice coarse, but nothing gave reply. She was alone and so very scared.
Later.
The Haze Man held the metal flask for 1.72253 hours, then, as if at an unknown signal, snapped its gaze towards it. With a stone-steady hand and an inhuman slowness, occasionally stopping still as if unsure, it took the lid of the flask and unscrewed it. It placed two fingers into the fluid, still as hot as it was when it was poured.
“.*/\) ~* *~ (/\*.”
The other sentries stepped towards the leader, one by one, and put their fingers into the flask. “.*/\) ~* *~ (/\*.”, they said. “.*/\) ~* *~ (/\*.”
A fifth Haze Man solidified out of the carpet. “.*/\) ~* *~ (/\*.” It repeated the ritual.
Said the leader, “/_/} ^ {\_\ …(]])([[)... |~##.|.{}|{}.|.##~| .%.”
“#_’’{{}}’’_# [|]”, said another.
The first answered, “^^]|’**’|[^^ Coffee. .eeffoC” There was a soft clanging of agreement. “.Coffee. .eeffoC. .Coffee. .eeffoC.”
The leader continued. “[~*~] Here you go, coffee as wanted. .detnaw sa eeffoc ,og uoy ereH”
Hums. One of the Haze Men abruptly bowed, imitating Arya’s pose with liquid smoothness and absolutely no grace. It reversed the action, and another followed. The humming and bowing continued, grew a little.
“Here you go, coffee. .eeffoc ,og uoy ereH .*/\) ~* *~ (/\*. .detnaw sa ,eeffoC Coffee, as wanted. ~ Coffee. .eeffoC ** Here you go coffee. .eeffoc og uoy ereH .eeffoC Coffee. Here you go Coffee. {**} .eeffoC og uoy ereH --!-- .og uoy ereh ,eeffoC Coffee, here you go. Here you go, Coffee. .eeffoC ,og uoy ereH ”
“^^#_#^^ .][. (|\- -/|) .][. */\) ~* *~ (/\*”, said one in the crowd. They looked to their leader. It responded.
“.eeffoC Coffee.”
A pair of silk butler-gloves floated in by a side door and five Men worth of eyes snapped towards it. The pair halted, twiddled, then continued on its way a little quicker.
“,Coffee, ,eeffoC,” said the lead sentinel, and dissolved itself into the shadows. The flask clattered down behind it, empty.
The eyes returned to their stations.
The two heroes with their trusty steed arrive in the market where they oogle over everything.
A lanter then guides the trio to the Palace, where they deliver the coffee to the Haze men. Quest complete!
After that’s done, they begin to travel in any which direction, the vast market stalls becoming downtrodden and the land choked with despair.
They are then attacked by a Lurker from the Pit of Trials and each of them is seperated.
Our heroes are alone.
Split-Tooth: +13 Prestige Starting +1 For Minor Role +1 For Major Role +1 For Jolly Collaboration +1 For Following a Quest +5 For Completing a Quest = +22 Prestige Ending
Arya, The Learner: +12 Prestige Starting +1 For Minor Role +1 For Major Role +1 For Jolly Collaboration +1 For Following a Quest +5 For Completing a Quest = +21 Prestige Ending
Two weeks or so had passed since they weighed anchor at the southern tip of the Kick and set off along the continent’s northern coast. Along the entire shore, forests had been blooming and prospering with verdant glory - yet the crew had not spotted as much as a single beast skulk between the trees. On one occasion, a red-feathered bird had been seen atop one of the palms, its crimson plume like a beacon of light in an otherwise dark green abyss. Rumours spread throughout the crew aboard, some proposing that the continent was younger than first thought, and that the Exalted Creators simply had not yet had the time to populate it; others proposed that the continent was cursed, and that all life that made futile, pitiful attempts to spawn there would soon find their offspring to die and rot before their very eyes.
As the horror in the rumours was reinforced with every retelling, so did the crew grow ever more reluctant to go ashore to fetch water. Eventually, as they neared the northern islands, Qiang Yi found that even mentioning the shore poisoned the deck with fright and uncertainty. The captain found himself at a loss, and as the third week passed and they neared the final planned resting spot before the northward trek to the Dragon’s Crown, a fight broke out on deck.
Qiang Yi stormed down from the helmspost, ordering three of the closet deckhands to follow him. Already had a crowd encircled the two brawlers.
“What is the meaning of this?!” Qiang Yi boomed and the crowd parted to reveal the skinny Gong’er biting his brown granite teeth into Lai Lei’s arm - Lai Lei silenced a scream at the sight of the captain. The two sailors quickly got to their feet and looked to the floor. Qiang Yi scowled at them both and straightened his arms down along his sides.
“What is the meaning of this, master Gong’er, master Lai Lei?” he repeated. “For what reason do two brothers of the Flow exchange blows aboard this sacred vessel?”
Gong’er fidgeted where he stood, his hands shivering and his eyes trying desperately to escape Qiang Yi’s. Lai Lei appeared to be sweating. Eventually, they both fell to their knees before the captain.
“Captain! With all due respect,” Gong’er started. Qiang Yi looked at the prostrating man. Gong’er shot an accusatory finger at Lai Lei. “He started it!”
“Huuuuh?! I hit yer head to hard, ye puddle?!” Lai Lei roared as he rose to one knee and looked ready to pounce.
“Silence!” Qiang Yi boomed. Lai Lei fell back into a kowtow. “Gong’er, we do not accuse without proof to back the claim. Master Lai Lei, master Gong’er claims you started this conflict. What gives him the right to claim such?”
“I ken not, captain! We two were discussin’ the forests on th’ shore as usual, then this wee puddle pounced me ou’a nowhere. Bloomin’ mad, he is--!”
“Thank you, master Lai Lei!” Qiang Yi interrupted sourly. He turned back to Gong’er. “Master Gong’er, you stand accused of unwarranted assault against your brother of the Flow - how do you plead?”
Gong’er’s head quickly shot up. “Innocent! I’m innocent, captain! He was the one who struck me firs--!”
“Silence!” Qiang Yi pinched the bridge of his nose. “Alright. Start from the beginning. What were the two of you discussing?”
“The empty forests,” Gong’er said simultaneously as Lai Lei said “The cursed woods.”
“Duly noted,” Qiang Yi muttered. “What sparked the conflict?”
“I told ye, captain! The wee puddle struck m--!”
“What part of the conversation may have lead to that?” Qiang Yi snarled. Gong’er looked down.
“H-he said the curse is probably related to the stone we brought aboard,” Gong’er mumbled. “That the stone we plan to gift His Lordship is the stuff of evil. This was a downright false statement - no such beautiful stone could ever be cursed - so I struck him.”
Qiang Yi squinted. The surrounded crew began to whisper and mumble with everything from outraged hissing to anxious whimpers. “So you admit to striking first?” the captain said.
“Yes!” Gong’er threw his hands into the air. “I struck him first - but only because he insulted His Lordship’s property!”
Qiang Yi turned to Lai Lei. “Master Lai Lei, does this confession sound correct to you?” The deckhand nodded and wiped his brow.
The captain hummed and looked around the crew. His eyes then fell back on Gong’er. “Your intentions, master Gong’er, were noble - I am certain any of us would rise in defense of His Lordship’s sacred property any day. However, your category for what His Lordship’s property is is simply too broad..”
Gong’er’s boney face looked slack-jawed at Qiang Yi. “Category…? Broad?”
The captain nodded. “Master Lai Lei has, in fact, not insulted His Lordship’s property - as it has yet to be delivered to His Lordship, and is therefore not His property.” There was some dissatisfied rumbling in the crowd. Qiang Yi furrowed his brow and pursed his lips. “Secondly, the stone we recovered is a foreign material - our knowledge on it is limited only to its colours and general shape. I cannot see why it would be an insult to propose that the material possesses certain traits - even if those traits are detrimental. Frankly, the only crime I find master Lai Lei guilty of is intentionally damaging crew morale.”
Gong’er fell back into a shivering kowtow - Lai Lei sat dumbstruck on his knees. Qiang Yi scowled at them both.
“As the Flow demands, you shall both be punished accordingly. Since you are both of the Strong, the punishment will be selected based on your relationship as comrades of the same caste.” He pointed at Gong’er.
“Gong’er, the punishment for striking a brother and falsely accusing him of a crime he did not commit is one fistful of salt across the back.”
Gong’er looked up, eyes wide with horror. He swallowed, his voice cracking up slightly with frightened sobs. “Y-yes, captain,” he whimpered and slowly began to pull off his gi shirt with shivering arms. He laid flat on his stomach. From under deck came two somber deckhands carrying an ornate wooden chest marked with warning notes and labels. Qiang Yi took a deep breath.
“As captain of this vessel,” he began, his voice somewhat shaky. “... I shall carry out this punishment. Gloves, please.” A nearby carpenter handed him a pair of leather gloves. The chest was placed next to Qiang Yi and the captain reluctantly began undoing the intricate lock. Lai Lei blinked sympathetically at Gong’er and the captain.
“Uhm… Captain, is this really necessary? I mean… The wee puddle didn’ really hurt me tha’ much--”
“Such is the law, master Lai Lei. Violence aboard this holy vessel cannot be tolerated. Such a breach in discipline would no doubt shame His Lordship.” He wrapped his gloves hand around a handful of the white, crystalline poison and held it up for all to see. “His Lordship’s rules are divine and absolute - let this time be the only time we must remind each other.” The captain then turned to the floored Gong’er who had folded his hands in silent prayer. Qiang Yi took a deep breath and, slowly, began to sprinkle the salt over the man like a gentle snowfall.
The effect was immediate. The deckhand twisted and writhed as the salt burned across his skin. Several deckhands moved in to restrain him, but still his body spasmed in agony. He cried and wept for forgiveness, but his words quickly became incomprehensible as they were drowned out by screams and wails. The onlookers all cowered before the gruesome act transpiring before their eyes, some falling to their knees and begging Qiang Yi to stop.
Lai Lei crawled over to Qiang Yi’s leg and pressed his forehead against his foot as he grasped at the captain’s violet robes. “Please, captain! He’s had enough! He’s learned his lesson!”
Qiang Yi felt his lip quiver and he dropped the last of the salt. The deckhand on the floor had stopped squirming a few seconds ago, likely having passed out from the pain. The captain clapped the gloves free of the rest of the salt and tossed them aside.
“Someone give him a well-deserved rest and his back a proper wash. He took his punishment like a pious servant.” He looked around at the crowds. “Let us avoid having to see that again.”
There were hums and nods of consensus among the onlookers. The captain lowered his eyes down at Lai Lei. “As for you, master Lai Lei, the punishment for propagating information that can shatter morale is a week in the cells.” The captain let out a sigh. “However, since we have no cells aboard, you punishment shall be improvised…” Qiang Yi pointed down at Gong’er who was slowly being lifted up by two others.
“You shall be responsible for nursing master Gong’er back to health and be his brother - not just of caste, but of soul. If either of you exchange blows again - you will both be punished.”
Lai Lei blinked, then nodded frantically. “I-... I’ll care for him as if he was my true brother,” he said. He then helped the two others with carrying Gong’er downstairs.
Qiang Yi let out a sigh and looked around at the crowds. “Since you are already here, I may as well take this time to address the ongoing rumours aboard: I see now that I have allowed this fear of the Kick to poison the pure and honest souls aboard this ship for too long.” The crowds rumbled and mumbled. “I will take criticism for this myself - I should have shot them down before; had I done so, this fight may not have happened. The fear permeating this ship is not healthy - it makes us doubt our mission, neglect our faith, and make enemies with our neighbours. Therefore, I forbid the spreading of such rumours for the remainder of the voyage, is that clear?”
There were nods and words of consensus. Qiang Yi nodded.
“Good… Back to your stations.”
As the crowds dispersed, Qiang Yi walked over to the bow of the ship. He stood for a moment and admired the figurehead to Ashalla. It was a shame that it could not capture the majestic presence of the Ocean Goddess, but it was still just so magnificently carven. He made a mental note to have an equally majestic effigy made in the honour of Shengshi and placed at the stern. A suitable passtime for the carpenters as the journey dragged on.
The sound of footsteps closed in behind him and Qiang Yi turned to see Li Shan clinging to a crutch, though seemingly almost recovered. Qiang Yi smiled from ear to ear and bowed.
“Oh, master Li Shan - what a joy it is to see you well again. Your condition has certainly improved over the last four days.”
The carpenter let out a laugh, followed by one or two coughs. “Yes, it has been tough, but I may finally return to my work. The crutch is just for my right leg - my arms are still as strong and dexterous as ever.”
Qiang Yi chuckled. “I do not doubt that for a second, master Li Shan. Actually, if you do not already have a project in mind, may I make a request?”
“My hammer and chisel are yours to command, captain,” Li Shan said with a nod. The captain gestured to the figurehead.
“Your previous work of art was of stellar quality, master carpenter - no doubt has the Queen of the Ocean spotted it already - it may even have been the reason Her Holiness chose to save our ship from sinking.” He gave Li Shan a bow. “Your skill is impeccable.”
Li Shan flushed and scratched his neck sheepishly. “Oh, no, don’t say that - it was thanks to my team that we managed to produce it so quickly.” He bowed back.
“That’s good to hear. I wish for you to complete a second statue, though this one is to be placed at the stern - a tribute to our Lord.”
Li Shan looked up and blinked. He immediately straightened himself up and cleared his throat. “Captain, do-... Do you really think that His Lordship would accept such a lowly attempt at portraying His glory?”
Qiang Yi stepped closer and put a hand on Li Shan’s shoulder. “With your skill, it will -not- be a lowly attempt. I am certain that His Lordship will be more than satisfied.”
Li Shan looked down for a moment and then stared Qiang Yi in the eyes with newfound resolve. “Then it shall be done, captain! Sail the ship well, and the effigy will be ready by the time we reach the Serpentine Isles.”
Qiang Yi grinned and clapped the carpenter’s broad shoulder. “That is wonderful to hear, my friend. You will certainly bring His Lordship’s favour upon us with it. You may commence as soon as you are ready.”
Li Shan bowed and walked towards the stern. Qiang Yi turned back to the figurehead, folded his hands in silent prayer, and turned back to the stern, as well. However, as he walked back, he noticed a few sailors who had been talking, disperse upon spotting him. Qiang Yi frowned.
He ascended to the helmspost, giving Zhen-zhen a nod and receiving one in return. From the helmspost, Qiang Yi found the deck to be busy as normal - yet occasionally, groups of feet would gather behind the sails or just underneath the railing, before quickly dispersing again.
“I do not understand - why do they cling to the fear of a curse that likely does not exist?” Qiang Yi said in a frustrated tone and turned to Zhen-zhen. She gave a sheepish shrug.
“I dunno either, captain,” she said. “Maybe the monotony of the waves is getting to them?”
“The monotony of the waves?” Qiang Yi repeated quizzically.
Zhen-zhen nodded. “I’ll be honest, captain. Nothing has happened for two weeks, and had I not had maps to check and tillers to steer all day, I would likely have gone mad from boredom.”
Qiang Yi scratched his chin. “Is that so?”
Zhen-zhen nodded again. “The crew are likely making up stories and the like about the empty woods to have something to talk about - you know, after talking about the weather gets stale.”
Qiang Yi nodded slowly. “So distractions are in order, you say? What would you suggest?”
She shrugged. “Each caste would be interested in different things - I reckon the Skilled would be happy just crafting stuff; the Noble would probably like some tea or to play music; and the Strong probably would not mind a spar on occasion.”
“Sparring?” Qiang Yi said skeptically. “How will we make certain those do not turn into fights? How can we even control whether a fight is a spar or a brawl?”
Zhen-zhen gave him a straight-faced frown. “Captain, I am fairly certain the Strong know very well what the difference between a fight and a spar is.”
Qiang Yi recoiled a little and cleared his throat. “I-if you say so. Regardless of that, though, we did not bring tea onboard! How will we satisfy the Noble?”
“Alright, so we don’t have tea - could you convince the Skilled to make them some instruments, then?” Zhen-zhen tilted her head to the side. “Aren’t you supposed to be a creative man, captain?”
“I asked for solutions, not sass, first mate,” Qiang Yi said sourly as he drummed his chin with some fingers. “That could work, though. I will ask Li Shan for counsel.” Qiang Yi strolled down the staircase to the deck, then down the staircase to the belly of the ship. There, he found Li Shan and his carpenter team busily carving away at roughly-shaped statue of the snake.
“Oh, captain!” Li Shan said in surprise. “W-we still need a bit more time, I’m afraid, but--”
“Oh, pardon my intrusion, master Li Shan, but I have an urgent request.” The master carpenter and his apprentices put down their tools and looked at the captain with a hint of anxiousness.
“Did something happen, captain?” said Li Shan. Behind him, Tong Lao was dusting off some sawdust. “Did the hull fix break apart?” he asked.
“No, and no - do not worry, nothing has happened. It has just come to my attention that we lack distractions for most of the sailors onboard - particularly for the Noble.”
The carpenters looked at one another. “Yes, but what would you have us do about that, captain?” Li Shan asked quizzically.
“Well, I was hoping that you could make them some instruments - you know, something to keep them occupied and to keep the rest of us entertained throughout the journey.” Qiang Yi picked up a broad plank. “This plank, for example, could make a fine guzheng - well, a makeshift one.” He pointed to a thin log. “Carve that out and fit it with two strings - add a bow and you have an erhu.” The carpenters scratched their chins and necks in thought.
“Well, we could do it, captain, but--...” Li Shan began. “... We cannot promise the quality will be particularly good, considering what we have on hand - not to mention that none of us are particularly good musicians.”
Qiang Yi folded his arms together. “W-well… You could ask the Noble for advice in that regard. You know… You make the tools and they tell you how they are supposed to sound?”
Li Shan let out a sigh. “We’ll… We’ll see what we can do, captain.”
Qiang Yi nodded in satisfaction. “Wonderful, master Li Shan. I will be looking forward to your results.” The captain strolled happily towards the front of the ship’s belly and Li Shan looked to the others.
“We’ll finish the statue first - then we’ll find someone to help us out.”
Qiang Yi then went to see Yong Mei, assistant to the quartermaster Zeng En who was still in recovery. Yong Mei was not as tall as Zeng En, but equally well-groomed and muscular. She had skin of fine gray clay and long, black, earthy hair tied in a small topknot. Upon Qiang Yi’s arrival at the storages below deck, Yong Mei greeted him with a smile and a bow.
“Greetings, captain,” she said with a bubbly, yet somewhat shy voice. “W-what can I help you with?”
“Ah, lady Yong Mei,” Qiang Yi said and bowed. “I have a proposal for you to bring to the rest of the Strong.” Yong Mei blushed. “A p-p-proposal, captain?! B-but we just--”
“A proposal for the whole caste, lady Yong Mei,” Qiang Yi said sourly. Yong Mei squinted.
“Woah… The captain is a greedy man, I see.”
“A proposal for a change of law, lady Yong Mei! Focus, please.”
“Oh,” she said curtly, and with a hint of disappointment. “Very well, what does the captain propose?”
Qiang Yi let out a relieved sigh and nodded. “Seeing as I have received some feedback regarding a lack of distractions aboard, I propose to let the Strong once again be allowed to practice martial arts on deck, and even engage in sparring -under- the observation of a judge.”
Yong Mei looked dumbstruck at first, but then a grin formed on her face and her eyes beamed at the captain. “R-really, captain?! You mean it?!”
Qiang Yi recoiled as the huge woman began to skip happily around in circles. “Y-yes, lady Yong Mei. No longer shall your caste be denied the essential culture of martial arts. I must, however, stress once more than I will require there to be a judge at every sparring.”
“N-naturally, captain! Oh, by the Exalted Creators, what a day!” The woman set off in a sprint to deck, and not a moment had passed before Qiang Yi heard cheers and whooping through the deckboards above. The captain snickered quietly to himself.
Perhaps now they could forget the talk of curses and evil spirits for some time.
Two weeks have passed and the ship has reached the northern edges of the continent. Seeing as there have been few to no sightings of life on the Kick, the crew starts thinking the land is hella haunted. A fight breaks out on deck between Gong’er and Lai Lei over whether the curse on the land stems from the orvium they had found. Gong’er started the fight and is sentenced to salting, a terrible punishment that is composed of sprinkling salt over the targets naked back. Qiang Yi then forbids all mentionings of the curse.
Zhen-zhen later proposes that the reason the crew believes in curses is because they are dying of boredom. She proposes that Qiang Yi gives them something to do. Qiang Yi lets the carpenters do their stuff, he has them make instruments for the Noble, and she allows the Strong to spar and do martial arts under supervision.
The sun was setting as Karamir walked through the forest. There was a bitterness inside him. No answers, no explanation, no purpose. That was all he wanted. Yet the beings who created it all, him and the very world itself, could not provide it. Or perhaps they did provide it, but chose not to. Leaving him to figure it out for himself.
But why?
Was he a plaything? A test? Some experiment for them to observe and study? But even if that was the case... why? What about him was worth studying or observing? The only things he could influence were the fate of a berry bush or the occasional wolf. Phystene had made him an offer, and while that might have given him more things to do... why? If he was given a gift to aid his survival, that still didn't answer the question of what he was surviving for. Even if he was capable of producing offspring, wouldn't they just go on to do the same things he did?
So why?
He could end himself, he realized. Answer the question with a simple "there is no why." Then throw himself from a cliff, or plunge a spear into his heart. He could stop leeching off the creatures that seem content with their lack of purpose, and instead he could let it end.
But then he would be a failure. Survival... such a vague, seemingly pointless task, but also the only task he had ever been given - the only thing expected of him. His ultimate mark on the world would be one of disappointment, which sounded worse than leaving no mark at all. There was no good answer.
What was one of Phystene's suggestions? Go on great hunts in Kalmar's name? Kalmar, who had given him all that he needed, but none of what we wanted. His name was already similar enough to Kalmar's, so it felt as if anything he did would already be in Kalmar's name. He did not resent his name, no, but why must he be tied to someone who had long since parted ways with him? Someone who did not even consider him a son, despite being directly responsible for his creation. Why?
He wondered if the animals of this continent even had the capacity to contemplate that question. Perhaps that was why he seemed to be the only creature with these struggles. He had been told his intelligence was greater than theirs. Great enough to question existence, but not enough to actually answer that question. Why?
The more he thought about it, the more he convinced himself there was no answer at all. Then he considered that perhaps not even the world's creators were smart enough to know the answer. He laughed bitterly. Were they just as confused as him, and hoping that by observing creations such as him, they would somehow find the answer for themselves? Yes, perhaps that was their secret. They told him it was something he had to find out for himself, but that was only because they couldn't admit to their own weakness. The fact that they were so afraid to show their weakness was a second weakness.
What other weaknesses did they carry? Kalmar had told him that one god had already snapped and turned into a monster. Another wanted to destroy the world because he was unwilling to find a place in it. And another had nearly started a war over a petty dispute.
Yes... they all had to be just as lost and confused as him, if not more.
He recalled his maker's words. "There is no telling how high you might rise, how strong you might become. Or you might fail, and end up lower than where you started. Not even I know."
He would rise, he resolved. He would become stronger. Strong enough to stand next to the gods themselves. His maker had told him that anger, when mastered, had its uses. So he would take the anger within him, the bitterness, and he would hone it and sharpen it and harden it, to aid him in this goal. He did not know if such a goal was achievable by him, or even possible, but he would try. And if, somehow, he succeeded, he would look into their eyes and call them out for what they were.
Perhaps he would fail. He probably would. But at least it was a purpose.
Karamir wanders, reflecting on his meeting with Phystene and his lack of a purpose. Every line of thought he goes through eventually ends with the question of why? Eventually he decides that perhaps it is a question not even the gods themselves know. Believing that he has found some sort of secret or facade, he decides to become powerful enough to match the gods themselves, so that he can call them out for it.
Thumfatem paced around his meager hut. His elbows were as square as they could be behind his back, his wide forearms smooshed together. All around him old fish hung. Their smelly, oily bodies ripe with a clear fermented liquid often used to relieve pain. His bed was little more than dried grass and reeds. Shells decorated where they could be reasonably laced to the hut’s material with lashings.
“Where is he,” Thumfatem turned and paced again, mumbling to himself. The fur covering the door shifted slightly, as a single butterfly flew into the room and rested on the wall. Its wings had a painted quality that resembled eyes. Thumfatem seemed to pay it no mind as he rubbed his blubbery chin in thought, his grumbles continuing. A second butterfly crawled from the ground and fly on the opposing wall. The painted eyes appeared to move and watch the selkie as he walked across the room. Thumfatem turned to one of them briefly and shuddered, quickly returning to his one sided rant.
Two of the mysterious butterflies entered the tent, merely resting on the wall and glaring at him. Thumfatem peered over his shoulder at the fluttering eye pattern. His eyes darted to the first one that entered, then the second, until he had connected an invisible line between them all. He looked up to nothing in particular, “What is this?”
A voice echoed in his mind, “Does my ethereal presence displease you, Prophet of the Selka.”
The sudden words caused Thumfatem to jump, his flailing arms slapping a few of the hanging fish and emitting an oily odor, “Ah!” He quickly covered his mouth and strung a few fingers along his whiskers, “Who- who speaks?”
The voice answered, ”I am Lord Parvus, sovereign of insects and god of toxins.”
Thumfatem seemed to pale at the mention of a God, “W-where do you stand?”
The god replied, ”Insects are merely an extension of my ichor. I am within your hut, and I am outside it.”
“Oh,” The Selka stretched his imagination, “I see. Well, to what do I owe the honor?” He puffed up his chest and collected himself.
There was a slight pause, ”I am interested in the welfare of all mortal races. Is it not appropriate that I visit the prophet of the greatest Selka village? I need to ensure that all is in order. That the Selka will have a strong leader, a wise advisor, and that they will keep their god’s commandments.”
“All is in order,” Thumfatem charmed, “Father Kirron is running a tight ship through his chosen leaders and prophets. The greatest of all Selka hunters himself has sworn to capture a bird of great power for our sacrifice alone.”
There was a pause, as the strange butterflies still glared at the selkie, ”It would appear that way would it not. There is great reward for pious duty, and grave consequences for failing said duty.” the voice echoed, nonchalantly.
“Oh of course!” Thumfatem rested his hands on his stomach, “The Grottu know this best.”
There was another pause, ”As prophet, you are granted certain luxuries for your great service, but your transgressions would also be weighed greater than a common worker.” the voice continued, still in a neutral tone.
Thumfatem slipped a fat finger between his teeth, “I suppose that makes sense, yes.”
The god continued, ”I have other business to attend to, however if you continue to devote yourself to your holy work, I shall reward you. For the time being, I shall bestow a small blessing upon your village.”
“Puh- Please!” Thumfatem inclined his head respectfully towards the butterflies, “All and any help is much appreciated.”
The voice replied, "Within your waves, you shall find a colorful fish bearing the mark of the butterflies' eye. Whenever one of your peoples has a fever, find it, and grind its fins to dust. It shall alleviate their ailment." . When he was finished, the butterflies began to leave the tent, one by one.
Thumfatem stood in shock, and only after a moment, he muffled a shout, “Thank you!”
He stood still for a moment longer, and then with as much energy as the fat seal could force, he burst out of his hut in a waddle. He slipped behind the other huts in an attempt to remain incognito and with a clunky slide, he slid into the beaches waves. He scooped water before him as he swam, eyes wide and curious. It took him a while, but eventually he spotted it slipping through a reef: butterfly eyes. A toothy grin formed on his mouth and bubbles escapes. He let out a water filled yelp of joy and quickly ascended.
Parvus Starting MP: 0MP/4FP Ending MP: 0MP/3FP
1MP (Discounted to 0 with Insect Port) to create butterflies with painted eyes that glare at people. 1MP to create a fish whose scales can cure fever.
Thumfatem, Prophet of the Selka, is pacing around his hut. As he is ranting to himself, strange butterflies begin to enter his hut and rest on his walls. They have an eye pattern on their wings that seemingly moves to look at the selkie.
After several had entered his room, Thumfatem notices them and begins to question what is happening. Parvus answers from a distance, and gives him cryptic, vague answers to his concerns.
Parvus then informs the prophet that he is making sure that everything is well for the Selka, and makes very thinly veiled threats that he shouldn’t mess up or else. He then says that he will return later and reward him if he does well, but for the time being granted his village a small blessing, and informed him that he created a fish with the same eye pattern as the butterfly, and there scales can be grinded up and used as a cure for fever.
The butterflies leave the tent, and Thumfatem eagerly goes to find one of these fish, and is quite happy when he finds one.
With his minions setting course to their respected locations, Sartravius could finally rest and watch how it all played out. He returned to Muspellheim and plopped upon his makeshift throne of charred rock and hardened obsidian. He cocked his head back and surged his giant hands into the throne, providing his body access to the magma floating throughout the world. So much time was spent on his preparations for conquest, that he hadn't had time to explore the worlds beyond the Twin Dragon Islands. A deep trance devoured his conscious as he began to attempt in catching up with the current circumstances. He could feel many great and terrible things rush into his mind like a torrent of magma, listening upon what all had to say and mention.
But upon half an hour into his deep thoughts, he sensed the Phoenix's imminent arrival to Muspell. Sartr awoke with a snarl of annoyance as he glanced up at the magma-fall leading to the volcano summit. From the molten stream, the Phoenix emerged into the inferno and proceeded to land at his Master's feet. Sartr simply scoffed at his return.
"You're late!" he grumbled as he adjusted himself within his seat.
The terror bird could only bow his head in guilty submission. "I apologize for my delayed arrival, Master." he replied politely, "But I've already explained to you as of my reasoning."
"Doesn't mean that you're still late..." the fire god grumbled as he stroked his beard, "Alas! Did you at least find anything else upon your return from the conflict with our local Iron Giant?"
The Phoenix shook his head. "Nothing worth mentioning, Master." he simply replied.
Sartr would then eye his Avatar carefully, almost as if he expected something out of him. "Are you certain?" he inquisitively asked.
"Yes."
"Baah," Sartr scoffed as he threw his hands in the air, "Even I have already heard things happening... and I didn't have to get out of my seat!"
The avian's head cocked sideways questioningly. "May I imply what you've heard?" he asked cautiously.
"Many things!" the fire god blurted out, "Already a goddess had recently been deceased from the realm of Galbar - with her soul already having left the premise of this world..."
He coughed before the Phoenix asked again. "And who might she be?"
"Seihdhara." Sartr responded, "The same one you've encountered after you've INCOMPETENTLY FOUND YOURSELF CAPTURED BY SHE AND ARAE!"
The Avatar flinched at Sartr's sudden violent reaction and took a step back from his Master's wrath. Thankfully, his anger was quick before he found himself level-headed once more.
"Y-Yes," the Phoenix responded hesitantly, "I unfortunately remember that... humiliating experience."
Another annoyed sigh stemmed from Travis before he found himself fit to continue. "Well she's dead," he spoke composedly as he punched his flaming forehead, "Yet the essence of her powers have been scattered across the realm. Where they are situated I do not know, but even if I did know, I assume they are currently within the hands of other gods by now, if not already having disappeared into thin air entirely. Ugh... how her expertise in combat would do nicely to help with my conquest."
The Phoenix nodded at his explanation. "I see."
"And there's a million other things going on regarding the other gods!" the blazing god furiously remarked as he swiped his hand across his throne, his face contorting into one of anguish.
"May I inquire to what~" the avian put forth.
"CEASE YOUR PETTY MEDDLING!" Travis roared pre-maturely before it began sub-siding once more. An awkward silence filled the room before he continued. "My thoughts do not concern you, Avatar. If I request your ear on such subjects, I shall demand it."
He stiffened his posture upon his throne and continued looking down at his subordinate.
"For now, there are more important matters to discuss." he continued bluntly, "The first stage of my glorious conquest has only just begun, yet I continue to need eyes and ears elsewhere as I focus upon the Twin Dragon Islands."
The Phoenix could only nod towards him. "And where would you want me to go?"
"Our neighboring continent of Kalgrun looks ripe for the pickings," Sartr explained, "Unlike the heavily developed twin islands, much of it is still unclaimed by the other gods. So while the gods are busy with the eastern portion of the realm, few ought to be left in guarding the west. Still, it and her neighboring island must be investigated for any potential resistance that can oppose me. Go forth and see what you can find and report back to me once you find something of interest. Understand?"
"As you wish, Master." the avian bowed respectfully before he proceeded to turn back and prepare to fly towards his destination.
But before he could do so, Sartr quickly bellowed towards him. "And another thing!" This prompted the giant pterosaur to turn back to his master as he listened to what he had to say. "If you encounter anything upon the whereabouts of Dhara's essence may be found, contact me at once. And if you find any of it out in the open, you will return them to me."
The avian nodded carefully, bowing once again, before finally taking off to the continents up north. Thus his next journey had just begun...
The Phoenix finally returns to Sartr in Muspellheim and proceed to converse about several events that had happen - most notably mentioning the death of Seihdhara (who had perished for good).
Sartr then proceeds to low-key address complain about how far behind they are on schedule compared to the other gods, but quickly changes topic and orders the Phoenix to scout the continent of Kalgrun and Li'Kalla's island - also ordering how if the avatar encounters Seihdhara's missing portfolios that he should bring them to him to earn their portfolios.
The three stood on the very mountain top they’d been born on, the highest peak on all of Istais, the entrance to their mothers Celestial Sphere, and they were thoroughly underwhelmed. It wasn’t that they misunderstood the significance of the spot. No, it was just that the view, such as it was, extended about ten feet in front of them and consisted of snow and the occasion rock. The peak was, in simple terms, ugly.
“So,” Makab started, “Which way do we go? I’m thinking right.”
Eline scratched her head and instinctively hugged her wings against her body to keep herself warm, “Your right or mine?”
Makab stared at his sister blankly before Akam butted in, “Perhaps we could just fly above the clouds? We can tell east from west by following the path of Heliopolis.”
“Not that we know what’s in either of those directions,” Eline sighed.
“Well,” Makab stepped up to his sister and threw an arm around her shoulders, “That is what exploring means. I seem to recall someone flapping their wings in anticipation when Mother suggested we come down here.”
Eline shrugged Makabs arm off and shot him an annoyed look, “Fine. We go right.”
“Your right or-” Makab started only to be cut off by Eline clapping a hand over his mouth,
“You came over here Makab, we have the same right.” She smirked.
Akam only sighed, “So, we go right. Anyone care to be first?”
Makab pointedly flapped his wings at Eline, who huffed, “Ok! Fine. I’ll go first”
Without further ado Eline took off in the vague direction of ‘right’ which Akam was quick to mention had turned out to be north west. The three flew for hours, hundreds of miles of ocean passing by below, before anyone bothered to speak again. And when they did, it was not warmly received. Makab shouted over the wind, “Should have gone my right!”
Eline banked towards him and kicked her brother in the back, sending him tumbling into the sea.
By the time the three spotted land Makab had dried out, the only sign of his misfortune a persistent smirk on his sisters face. They all flew closer together so they could hold a conversation when they’d come close enough to know the landmass they approached stretched across the horizon.
“Doesn’t look like one of Mothers siblings has bothered here, does it?” Akam asked.
“No,” Eline agreed, “It’s just rocks and moss, although there is that a mountain range up ahead. Maybe there’s something interesting on the other side?”
“Mmm, only one way to tell.” Akam dived towards the mountains, leaving Eline and Makab scrambling to catch up with him. When the two caught up their brother they found him standing on a stony peak, looking out at what could, insufficiently, be described as a blasted wasteland.
Akam had an ugly grimace glued to his face, Eline gasped, and Makab, for once, seemed to be at a total loss for words. Before them was a vast scorched plain riddled with seemingly bottomless cracks and crevices. The only colour to be seen was a sickly red glow cast by the occasional floating stone. There was no sign of anyone alive, anywhere.
“Mother never showed us this,” Eline spoke softly, her voice strained.
“No,” Akam agreed, “She didn’t.”
Eline asked, “How big do you think it is? Does it cover the entire continent?”
“I don’t think so,” Makab opined, “You see that mountain in the distance? It’s slope looks green.”
Akam hummed in agreement, “That it does. I think we should be careful flying over this, stay high.”
The three took flight, gaining altitude until they were above the clouds. From that vantage point they could see that the wasteland below was enormous, but not endless. To the north was what looked like a sea of reddish fog and grass, and to the south was an enormous desert. The only sign of recognizable life was the mountain ahead.
It took them a lot longer than it should have to arrive there, but none of the three would mention the hours they spent surveying the hellscapes all around them. The flight had gone without incident, and that was enough. When they landed on the mountain Makab has pointed out they all breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t exactly lush, but the familiar green shrubs and grasses were a welcome reminder that they hadn’t flown into the sphere of one of the mad gods.
Eline took the opportunity to rest finding a small stream and sitting beside it, her back to the unnatural vistas in the distance. The others joined her without comment. They all drank from the stream, scooping up handfuls of melt water and quenching their thirst.
“So,” Akam frowned, “Who do you think made… All that?”
“Orvus?” Eline suggested between drinks, “Mother told us what he did to Phystene. We know he’s not a friend of life.”
Makab bit his lip and shook his head, “Maybe he made that first wasteland, but the desert? Has to be Sartravius.”
“So they’re working together,” Eline sighed “Wonderful.”
Akam opened his mouth to voice his own thoughts on the matter but was interrupted by a distant roar. Instantly the three siblings jumped to their feet and held their crystal spears tight to their chests. They didn’t dare move, but before they could relax they heard another roar, this one closer.
“It knows we’re here,” Makab growled.
“We don’t know what it is Makab,” Akam cautioned, “It might not be hostile. Don’t be rash.”
As if in repudiation of Akam’s optimism that was the very moment they spotted the enormous lizard fly out from the mountain top and dive towards them. The three all cursed and took flight before the scaly red black lizard breathed fire at the spot they’d just been sitting, instantly evaporating the stream.
None of the three could saee how large the creature was, but all would have agreed it was enormous. Thankfully, so were they. Eline and Akam dropped their crystal spears as they distanced themselves from the lizard, landing a ways away and allowing themselves to slowly grow into their original bodies.
Makab drew the creatures attention by hurling his spear at it mid flight. The projectile impacted the beasts side and shattered with a terrible crack, but the lizard only growled and breathed a stream of fire at Makab. None of the siblings knew it, but they’d stumbled across one of the first, and largest, of Sartravius’s Dragons. The spawn of Slaevatein.
The dragon, of course, didn’t care who the ones trespassing on its territory were. It closed its distance with Makab and batted the winged man out of the sky. He slammed into the mountain side and the dragon descended on its presumably dead prey with excitement, pleased to have a meal come to it for once.
It was thoroughly disappointed when it landed only to have a boulder slammed into its face. Makab, his wings missing some feathers, stood before the dragon and yelled at it before it could roar, “Come on, that’s all you have? You overgrown… Lizard thing!”
The dragon didn’t understand a word of the challenge, but it knew what a challenge was. It also knew that the tiny creature was an idiot. It inhaled, fire gathered in its throat, and a massive fist smashed into its back before it could exhale. Liquid fire dribbled out of its mouth and it whirled around to face the new threat.
What it saw was two titans, each as large as it was. The massive beings were covered in thick, almost chitinous, feathers and stared at the beast with great glowing eyes. The dragon immediately abandoned the idiot that it had already mangled and turned to face what it could only see as the first true challengers it had encountered since being born in the fires of mount Eldahverr.
It snapped its jaws at the titans and lunged, its wings carrying it into the first, feminine, figure. The dragons talons scraped at the beings armoured flesh and found purchase, tearing claw fulls of rock hard feathers from the female titans body. The titan lacked a mouth to cry out, but the way it clumsily grasped the dragon by its tail and threw it to the side spoke to its distress. Dark red blood began to leak from the fleshy spots the feathers had been torn from, and the dragon cried out in triumph even as it got back on its feet.
It wasn’t unscathed, in fact it was certain the impact from being tossed had broken its wing, but its enemies lack of natural weapons was its advantage. These titans couldn’t breathe fire, and they had no claws to speak of, what could they do against a dragon?
Just then, a massive chunk of mountain was hurled at the dragon. A third titan, also bloodied, rose from behind the beast. The dragon managed to dodge the projectile, but only barely. It’s tail had been scraped by the enormous rock. It growled in frustration and ran at the third figure, but the first two advanced on it and grabbed at its limbs.
The dragon cried out as the female one twisted its leg. It bent its body and neck and bit the titans wrist. It unhanded the dragon almost immediately, and that gave the beast the time to breathe a gout of flame at the unharmed male titan golding its other leg. That one let go before it was hurt, rolling to the side and crushing shrub and rock beneath it.
The dragon turned to the third figure, but too late. It caught a massive fist to the face and yelped. It felt more than half the teeth on one side of its mouth shatter. The pain was blinding. In a rage the dragon opened its mouth wide and breathed deeper than it ever had before, determined to kill the third titan before it could do any more damage.
It didn’t get the chance. The feathered giant plunged its arm into the dragon’s maw and the fire in the monsters throat sputtered and died. The beast writhed and bit down, but the male titan only pushed its arm further into the dragons throat until the lizard was incapable of drawing any breath at all.
The dragon and its enemy fought even as the titan choked it, each one inflicting wounds on the other, but eventually the beast could fight no longer. Its vision went black and its jaw went slack. Only then did the injured titan withdraw its mangled arm, faintly glowing red blood dripping on its own feathers and the unconscious dragons scales.
The other male titan, the only one left unscathed, approached the injured one but was held back by its female companion. It looked at her, concern in its glowing eyes, but she didn’t budge. At least, not until the seriously injured male titan picked up a massive boulder with its less injured arm and beat the felled dragon in the head with it. Repeatedly.
“You… You killed it.” Akam stared at the dragons crushed skull and looked sick.
“Yes Akam,” Makab groaned as Eline wrapped his mangled arm in his shredded tunic, “I fucking killed it. Something you should have done, instead of leaving me and Eline to deal with… With that fucking fire spitting asshole.”
“He helped me hold it Makab, don’t blame him for not being burned.” Eline looked pale as she did her best to bandage her bleeding brother.
“Yeah, sure.” Makab scowled and repressed a shout as his sister tied off the makeshift dressing, “We have to tell mother, if that wasn’t the only one of those things we have a problem.”
“Y- Yes. I’ll do that.” Akam nodded as he hid his shaking hands behind him. He turned away from his brother and sister and knelt a few feet away, vibrating hands clasped together in prayer.
“At least we know what destroyed all that land,” Eline scowled, “Or, at least the blackened part.”
“Yeah, but one couldn’t do that by itself. I have a bad feeling there are a lot more of those things Eline, and,” He gestured to his bloody arm with his good one, “I don’t have unlimited arms.”
Eline suppressed a chuckle at the incongruous comment and Makab smiled weakly. Before they could continue their conversation Akam turned around and called out, “Mother says she’s coming as soon as she can, but she told me we should find Shengshi. She says he’s not far from here, and he might be able to help Makab before she arrives.”
Eline breathed a sigh of relief, “Ok, that’s good news. You’ll get to keep this arm yet Makab. I’ll carry you if you can’t fly.”
“No, I can.” Makab grimaced and outstretched his somewhat ragged wings.
Eline looked dubious, but let her brother carry himself. The three took off, Akam in the lead, and left the bloody dragons carcass behind. They were hurt, nervous, and tired. All of them looked forward to what they were certain would be a break after their ordeal. They’d heard of Shengshi’s hospitality.
It was unfortunate that on their way to meet the God of Rivers they saw an army.
The angels arrive on Galbar and go right. Elines right. They find the world scar, it’s ugly. They rest on the southern Qiangshan mountains They kill a dragon. Makab is not doing great.
No might spent.
+1 Prestige to Eline (3) +2 Prestige to Makab (3) +1 Prestie to Akam (2)
