Asvarad, the serpent god, slithered across the world he knew and towards its dark boundary. Muscles wider than trees flexed, the god’s long body carving a deep trail into the ground below with every movement. Such was the serpent's pace that Asvarad neared the boundary by the time he even noticed he was being followed. Humans had seen a path and followed it thoughtlessly.
If nothing else, that proved to Asvarad that they were as foolish as his own kin. Seeing the chaos beyond the serpent didn’t need to guess at how likely it was a mere trail would protect his pursuers. They would all die. Before Asvarad swam a sea of possibility, and yet? It was structured, at times, in places. Searing deserts flickered out of existence only to be replaced by stinking flooded swamps which hardly lasted before being supplanted by a strange land of red stone and bloody fog. Reality crumbled, reconstructed itself, and all the while pretended it was never broken. As a last unkindness the region beyond the influence of the elder god’s node was also being blasted by weather that belonged in none of the places Asvarad saw it.
All this only told the serpent there were more possibilities in the chaos than could be imagined. Or perhaps, as many as there had once been. Asvarad had stopped moving and coiled up at the precipice, unconsciously positioned to strike in the face of a suspicion that frightened the serpent to his core. He’d suspected this world was a trap from what information he’d gleaned from Peninal, but this? It was only a suspicion, but Asvarad wondered if every possibility he saw in the chaos beyond was a reality that had once been only to be extinguished because there was no will strong enough. Or perhaps, it had nothing to do with will at all.
Asvarad beheld the certain death of his pursuers, and his own likely end if his worst fears were more than that alone, and decided that none should have to face it unprepared. He began to move again, still carving a serpentine trail into the world, but now it felt solid behind him in a way that the rest of this world did not. Where chaos encroached, the trail did not yield. So long as the humans kept to his path, they would arrive where he would. The serpent god would not be their caretaker, but if they sought to follow him regardless he would not deny a fellow prisoner his aid in escaping their box. Even if it was a hopeless struggle and this world was set to tarnish and wither until only a memory in chaos remained.
He would do what he could to avert that. Whether or not the crucible had birthed and slaughtered not just one world, but worlds beyond counting as the serpent god feared. As Asvarad caught sight of the twenty first node, his target, he thought again of the humans that made their way towards him, following a road with no protector, risking everything because for one reason or another they knew they could not remain where they had been. Mysteries and threats beyond counting beset him, so perhaps some company would not be so bad. Just to… Ease his burden.
With that in mind, Asvarad decided on a different plan for his node than the one he’d been considering. The others hadn’t left a positive impression on the great serpent, and so he’d meant to dissuade them by fashioning his node into an inhospitable and unwelcome land. That would not do now. Instead, Asvarad planned for something greater. The serpent reached the black node, and beholding it he wondered why these pillars were the foundation, but there was no time to study this one now, not while the serpent god’s peers set about claiming the whole of this world.
So he lunged for it. Asvarad coiled his body around a node that rose to prevent him from ever climbing it, though on instinct he tried. Such was the serpent’s enormity that within moments he towered above the swirling chaos below and felt the battery of weather unbound by the laws of reason, logic, and time. As Asvarad pivoted his head to bear witness to it all, it froze. Chaos halted, trapped as whatever it had been when he staked his claim to the black monolith he climbed and coiled around. It waited for him.
He was awash in a river of power, able to command its bend, ebb, and flow, but from the very moment he felt its touch Asvarad knew he was not its source. The power was intoxicating, it was everything that was, but the serpent god felt nothing in it but for the unease one might feel hefting a weapon they did not truly control. The serpent sat in the flow of possibility, able to foresee anywhere it might go, but unable to turn around. Asvarad could not behold the font from which energy beyond imagining stemmed and it nearly frightened him to the point of abandoning the idea of claiming a node at all.
But then what? Travel the world alone, unaided and weaker than his unstable fellows? Asvarad steeled his nerves and so poured his desire into the node, wary at all times that it would betray him. It did not. First a vast field of thick mosses, vines, grasses, and more besides shot out across the node to cover every inch of it. Then, when all the land had been rendered fertile, did Asvarad raise it. A terrible rumbling overtook the world and the lands of node twenty one began to rise as vast mountains that verged on the vertical pulled themselves from the dirt and flanked every edge of the node but for where the serpent’s road held them down and permitted a pass.
The mountains encroached into the interior, but there they began to fade and turn into the rolling green hills of an enormous valley. Warm water exploded from a thousand thousand springs and caves in the border mountains and colorful sediment filled rivers, still steaming, cut their way through towards the lands lowest point: the mysterious node itself. There a great lake formed, and at its edges wide fields already seeded with what would be lurid tubers and ashen grains. Asvarad had not willed that, but accepted it. The node read his desires, and he would not lie to himself and pretend he alone could uncover every truth.
Humans would be indispensable. To that end, he did not leave them a land of grass and steam alone. The vines in the soil, at the lightest prodding, swirled around each other and grew wooden and thick until they began to curl on themselves and rise from the ground in great bulbous trunks covered in little leaves. Species of vine both thin and thick rose and wove themselves into odd bulb trees great and small across the node. Some would bear succulent fruit, others strong woods to build with, and yet more varieties produced stranger things still.
Healing herbs, both for the body and for the spirit. That and, poisons. Those would grow only in dark caves and dangerous places, but Asvarad would not pretend he or his… People would have no use for them.
That done, Asvarad withdrew from the node as fast as he was able. That he would have to spend much time studying, even claiming, more of the things made the serpent god uneasy. The less introspective of his peers would not be able to resist that. Asvarad, terrified as he was, still yearned for the freedom and control he’d experienced as he twisted the world itself into an image he enjoyed.
It had not been by accident that his node resembled a fortress, only with walls miles high and caked in snow. The conflict Asvarad had feared at the beginning would play out, but this time it would not be remotely comparable in scale or devastation caused. Xavier had been a fool to talk them all down. It would have been better to have it out then, for them and for everyone else.
Especially for everyone else. Asvarad felt them enter his newly claimed territory, marveling at the land that awaited them on the other side of chaos, and began to slither towards the pass. He would keep to his word and never be their keeper, but they would need him to show them the fields, and warn them of other things besides. He needed them, in time, and so too did they need him.
It was disconcertingly neat, as natural arrangements went.
Asvarad slithers towards the chaos, intent on claiming node 21. He carves a path into the ground being so fat and all and so humans follow the trail after Vatarr tells them the south is cool. Asvarad realizes they’ll all die in the chaos so he makes his road special. It keeps the people safe as they follow the snake, but it's not like he likes them or anything! He just needs uh, lab assistants! Anyway Asvarad gets to his node and claims it, making a big old bowl full of hot springs and with one entrance. Also, he freaks out. Snake was not expecting the experience, really. While he was making the node he made some ready fields for the people he TOTALLY DOESN'T LIKE. Also he runs off to greet them and teach them things, after feeling their approach via the warning thingy he bought with his paranoia in the node claiming.
I didnt edit this at all I’ll do it later nerds
2might +1 might quiz -1 might serpentine trail -1 might raise humans to TECH DOS -1 might node warning 0might left
Form: At a hundred and fifty feet long and twenty around the great serpent Asvarad is among the most physically imposing of the new pantheon. Deep violent scales as large as dinner plates and as strong as shields protect the god’s muscular flanks and contrast with pale, elongated underbelly scales. Some see this and label him a mere snake, but quite unlike his lesser animal cousins Asvarad has a maw lined with spade-like cutting teeth rather than fangs. The differences don’t end there either. The serpent god has no less than three pairs of eyes looking ahead, to the side, and behind him. Moreover, long fleshy whiskers line the gods lower lip such that he might find his way in the darkest tunnels and oldest places where there exists no light for even the keenest eyes.
It is an ability that comes in handy more often than not. For while Asvarad is vast and powerful, he is not nimble or stealthy. Indeed, the great serpent spends more time away from the light than bathing underneath it for to leave a hiding place is to lose it, and so once he has found one Asvarad is only roused from his places of safety at great need.
Personality: Bitter, sarcastic, and altogether unpleasant are fitting terms to describe Asvarad’s company. For all the things Asvarad may be, friendly is not one. The serpent god is never in a good mood, but it would be a fool who sees this and presumes it evidence of an impulsive and crass being. Asvarad makes no niceties, but neither does he seek out conflict pointlessly. In truth, the serpent god is above all else patient and deliberate. If ever asked, Asvarad would pin his attitude on the fact that he is being forced away from what matters and made to engage in something so plodding and frustrating as conversation.
Even if he prefers not to share, Asvarad is always thinking. He is, when not actively being bothered by his kin or their mortal pets, patiently laying plans or considering the consequences of doing so. When Asvarad does act on his schemes he always endeavors to accomplish his goal without anyone noticing he was ever involved. As such, the serpent god is truly contemptuous of those of his peers whose solutions tend to involve smashing things or making loud declarations. Such contempt often leads to animosity, and often a greater animosity than Asvarad would hold against those actively trying to subvert him.
As for what the serpent is planning and what others might act against? Of all things, it is this which Asvarad guards most closely. If another god sets out to determine what Asvarad wants they can divine it from the great serpents actions, if at all. He will not be telling them.
Will: Asvarad’s will is that of the mind. He prizes, above all, the freest and purest thought. It is this conviction which biases the serpent god against the material. The basic, disgusting, and chemical demands of the flesh degrade the purity of the mind, and so it would be better if they did not exist at all. Were Asvarad to claim all the nodes and usher in a new age at the end of days, he would create a world without form. Shape and time would be abandoned, and all that would remain would be thought. Every mind emancipated and free to explore its own depths forever. In such a world, perhaps, interaction wouldn’t be strangled in its crib by the weakness of speech. In such a world, perhaps, Asvarad would be happy to talk of anything and everything.
He knew it was a dangerous risk, and yet even after Asvarad had gained the knowledge promised by the dying elder god and spoken his piece to the bickering divines he had lingered. The action wasn’t impelled by some budding interest in his peers or their affairs, though one of them had prompted it. Asvarad had seen the inquisitive little grey one study the remains of their creator and if the short god’s hushed exclamation was anything to go by? He had discovered something worth knowing. The great serpent longed for the chance to explore that possibility and so took on the risk of remaining, but the presence of other divines precluded him from doing as he pleased.
Asvarad had many eyes, and so had noticed as one goddess paled to see what Eleanna had done. Another had cleaned and clothed the elder gods lifeless corpse when they’d first awoken. To meddle openly with the creator’s body would bias them against him, and while he hadn’t any interest in their friendship the serpent god was in no rush to make enemies. Whatever their attachment to the last victim of this world-trap, he would have to respect it. At least, he would have to appear to have respected it. So, while some of the divines began to head off, and the one named Benea’s ridiculous pet set to the task of turning the babbling Xavior’s proposal into a demand by wrapping itself around the node, Asvarad breathed in.
In the span of the serpent’s breath he watched Xavior build a tomb around the elder god’s body, another peer predisposed to needless sentiment, and Benea’s nascent little faction depart alongside her. Only as Asvarad watched them begin to shrink in the distance did he exhale, and when he did? His breath was alive. Before the serpent, invisible in the air, was a creature that could not be seen nor felt without magic or power. At least, when it didn’t wish to be.
Asvarad looked into the emptiness and shaped the air with the slightest exhalations. Coiled up in the warm sun he lounged away from the others, crafting his own servant in plain sight. The flowing currents of air, hidden from all but the serpent who was watching for them, took the shape of a gaunt approximation of a human. One whose hands had too many fingers and who looked out from two sets of serpentine eyes facing both ahead and to the side. In lieu of skin the servant sported minuscule fine black scales, and each one of their thick nails ended in a sharp dark point. When his servant’s body was complete Asvarad began to work on its mind. Unlike others, he had no need for a pet. A thousand thousand careful adjustments to a floating knot of air and power, and at last the invisible creature fell to the ground without a sound or any clear indication it existed at all.
It had been created with a purpose, and Asvarad welcomed it into the world with terse explanation and a projected thought laden with the serpent god’s authority, “Servant, you have not been created without reason. I require the skull of our-”
“Excuse me, Servant?” A shrill thought bursting with indignation cut off Asvarad and the Servant’s not quite Human features contorted in invisible annoyance, “You're naming me Servant!? And now I’ve gotta a pull skull out of a warm body!? That’s disgusting. I was just created and from what you bothered to put in my head I already know that’s disgusting.”
“I have given you no name” Asvarad thought back forcefully enough to give his creation a headache, “That is for you to decide, your obedience however is not. You will do as I ask. Whatever aversion you feel is passing, I would create nothing ill-suited to its purpose. Be grateful, of all creatures Servant you alone will always find joy in your work. I have made certain of it.”
For a moment Asvarad’s Servant simple stood there, half sunk into the ground and totally still. Any thought of learning how to walk without substance abandoned to listen to its creators painful retort, and issue one of it’s own, “So I have to scoop out brains, and I’ll enjoy it even if I don’t want to, but I get to pick my name? Geez, aren't I lucky.”
“More than you know, ingrate.” Asvarad’s thought boomed in the Servant’s head and took on a such a weight that it couldn’t be gainsaid or denied, “Fetch the skull as soon as it can be done without attracting unwelcome attention, bring it to the place marked twenty one on the map, and present yourself to me there. I’ve no time for this asinine quarrel.”
That said, or thought, Asvarad turned and slithered away with all the speed a small mountain of muscle could provide. The Servant watched their creator depart, carving a great path through grass and brush that seemed to attract a few of the humans already enticed south by the horned god and seeking an easy route, and cursed as it looked back to the node, “Just couldn’t have been created by one of the others. Nope, it’s brains and gore for me. Good thing I’m a freak who’s already excited just thinking about it. Stupid fucking snake.”
Of course, Asvarad hadn’t taught the Servant proper speech. Had he, those few who remained around the first node would have heard the increasingly foul-mouthed specter as it figured out intangible locomotion and made its way to the tomb Xavior had erected with a mix of anger, building exhilaration, and more anger about that.
Summary: Asvarad sticks around because he thinks Brey saw something in Peninal’s body. Unfortunately everyone is getting all sentimental about the corpse they’ve been defiling and now a certain snake can’t study the body without annoying them. Thankfully, our flawless hero has a solution. Instead of something reasonable like waiting around or explaining himself to anyone Asvarad created a sentient specter that can shift between a material and immaterial form. Unfortunately that specter has thoughts about this whole thing. Double unfortunately, Asvarad doesn’t give a shit. The snake issues the order to steal Peninal’s skull and slithers off. Some humans follow the road ground into the soil by the 150 foot long snake that weighs a few hundred tons. The specter continues to be upset, especially about the whole ‘enjoying your job’ thing Asvarad programmed into it.
Might Expenditure -2 Might expenditure to create the Servant. The Servant is a sentient specter that can shift between a material and immaterial form. Any object the Servant holds when transitioning between the material and immaterial will experience the same transition as the Servant, provided it is smaller than the Servant is. 2 Might Remaining.
Bright light bled through the serpents eyelids and soaked into his scales as he listened to the words of his dying creator and the subsequent babble of his peers. Through it all the serpent, Asvarad, thought. Over and over he considered turning away from the group before it devolved into violence, as it would, but the ‘gift’ of knowledge within the elder gods fading corpse, corrupted or not, held him back. To flee would be wise, but to remain ignorant would be the action of a fool.
Decided, Asvarad allowed his eyes to flutter open and beheld the world. The valley’s verdant grasses swaying in the gentle wind, the dark node, those curious upright animals, and last of all the others of his own get. He slithered towards the elder god’s corpse as the others crowded it. Every movement was ponderous, and though the serpent felt the strength of his body and the speed at which he could strike, he could not help but find himself wanting. More than that, look at the others: reflections of the animals in the valley below with few exceptions.
They were all so limited. The feeling only grew as the vast serpent all but pushed the others out of the way as he cautiously pressed the tip of his snout against the elder god’s dead forehead. Knowledge washed over him, and Asvarad began to laugh. A deep, thrumming, laughter that vibrated the ground around him and caused his bulk to shake in dark mirth. He pulled himself up, and began to tower over the others before speaking in a voice akin to his laugh, “Blind. All but the little grey one, blind. Quibbling over who must rule a trap. Poisoning and looting the only source of knowledge which could permit our escape."
The serpent had eyed them as he spoke, and it was in the most vocal that he perceived the greatest weakness. In truth, he perceived the weakness in speech itself. Plodding, slow, and aggravating. It only made sense, why allow prisoners anything but the most rudimentary form of communication? Well, some things could be corrected. With a moments focus the serpent worked upon its very mind, and when it spoke again it was an echo in the minds of others. More refined, clearer and less animalistic, but certainly with the same contempt, “Jump to play your fell game if you must, I will first understand it.”
Summary: Asvarad begins to dislike the material world. He wakes and thinks, fuck this is a trap I’m a rat in a cage, and then tells everyone this impolitely. He then decides talking sucks and learns telepathy.
Might Expenditure -1 Might expenditure to develop local telepathy. 4 Might Remaining.
Form: At a hundred and fifty feet long and twenty around the great serpent Asvarad is among the most physically imposing of the new pantheon. Deep violent scales as large as dinner plates and as strong as shields protect the god’s muscular flanks and contrast with pale, elongated underbelly scales. Some see this and label him a mere snake, but quite unlike his lesser animal cousins Asvarad has a maw lined with spade-like cutting teeth rather than fangs. The differences don’t end there either. The serpent god has no less than three pairs of eyes looking ahead, to the side, and behind him. Moreover, long fleshy whiskers line the gods lower lip such that he might find his way in the darkest tunnels and oldest places where there exists no light for even the keenest eyes.
It is an ability that comes in handy more often than not. For while Asvarad is vast and powerful, he is not nimble or stealthy. Indeed, the great serpent spends more time away from the light than bathing underneath it for to leave a hiding place is to lose it, and so once he has found one Asvarad is only roused from his places of safety at great need.
Personality: Bitter, sarcastic, and altogether unpleasant are fitting terms to describe Asvarad’s company. For all the things Asvarad may be, friendly is not one. The serpent god is never in a good mood, but it would be a fool who sees this and presumes it evidence of an impulsive and crass being. Asvarad makes no niceties, but neither does he seek out conflict pointlessly. In truth, the serpent god is above all else patient and deliberate. If ever asked, Asvarad would pin his attitude on the fact that he is being forced away from what matters and made to engage in something so plodding and frustrating as conversation.
Even if he prefers not to share, Asvarad is always thinking. He is, when not actively being bothered by his kin or their mortal pets, patiently laying plans or considering the consequences of doing so. When Asvarad does act on his schemes he always endeavors to accomplish his goal without anyone noticing he was ever involved. As such, the serpent god is truly contemptuous of those of his peers whose solutions tend to involve smashing things or making loud declarations. Such contempt often leads to animosity, and often a greater animosity than Asvarad would hold against those actively trying to subvert him.
As for what the serpent is planning and what others might act against? Of all things, it is this which Asvarad guards most closely. If another god sets out to determine what Asvarad wants they can divine it from the great serpents actions, if at all. He will not be telling them.
Will: Asvarad’s will is that of the mind. He prizes, above all, the freest and purest thought. It is this conviction which biases the serpent god against the material. The basic, disgusting, and chemical demands of the flesh degrade the purity of the mind, and so it would be better if they did not exist at all. Were Asvarad to claim all the nodes and usher in a new age at the end of days, he would create a world without form. Shape and time would be abandoned, and all that would remain would be thought. Every mind emancipated and free to explore its own depths forever. In such a world, perhaps, interaction wouldn’t be strangled in its crib by the weakness of speech. In such a world, perhaps, Asvarad would be happy to talk of anything and everything.
Favorite Color: Violet.
So, this is a WIP, but only in the sense it's a first draft and will be full of spelling errors. If you want to judge off this, that's fine :)
A curious thing about the ocean is that, once you get far enough into it, you can’t even tell what’s happening on the surface. At least, not without senses beyond mortality. Go deep enough, and you can’t tell anything at all. As Courage sunk the storm faded from her senses, and soon the light began to grow dim. Faster than she could suffocate the Herald of Honor found herself alone in the dark; what few sounds she could still hear rendered alien and strange by the vastness of the seas and the distance of their travel. Even those grew fainter as what energy she had left faded and the pressure of the water inexplicably began to confine her more than her crystallization already had.
She could not close her eyes, but she could not see anything either. Her mind was filled with visions of her sister reaching out towards her as they sunk deeper and deeper, until her hand came too close. Courage watched as Fear’s hand became red and crystalline like that which encased her now, and she watched as her sister’s hand snapped off and was pulled along in the violent currents of the sea. Then Fear was pulled away from her as well… and she was alone.
Damn it! Why!?! Courage could only curse her foolishness, her reckless abandon that had doomed her and her sister. They had done nothing wrong, and even sought to save those that were stolen, yet they had failed and found themselves punished for their good intentions. DAMN IT!!!
She was trapped, and could feel her strength waning. When Homura had left, she could feel her strength begin to fade. The champion knew that the goddess of honor had imbued them with her power, and sustained them in her presence, but without her, their vigor and might became diminished.
Courage wanted to become stronger, and prove that the goddess had chosen her to be a herald of honor for a reason. While Fear and Kindness were content to serve and accept what they had been given, the brash champion wanted to be recognized for her own greatness. Greatness that seemed to end with drowning in the sea after an idiotic attempt to be a hero had proven too much for her. She didn’t want to accept this fate though...
There was a glimmer in the distance. A tiny beacon in the darkness growing larger with every moment. A fish swam towards her, a narrow, quick, and glowing animal. It probed at her as Courage died, its gnawing little teeth breaking down the magic crystal that was the only thing keeping her from a gruesome end. For now. She could only watch in helpless anger and despair as the animal, a simple scavenger alone and seeking out what sustenance it could, set about the murder of one of creations first thinking minds.
Or at least, until she heard the voice. Where before there had only been silence and the occasional groan of the shifting world Courage heard a voice speaking urgently, “It has what you need to survive. Take it- Take it now!”
At the prompting Courage felt an inexplicable rush of energy, the provision of a chance. But only a chance. Her crystal cocoon shattered, and she rushed the creature that had attempted to consume the last of her protection. Her hands grasped the fish, squeezing it with intense strength, fingers piercing its scales, and tearing through its innards. Her vision was red with rage, and the blood that poured forth from the vicious wounds she had inflicted upon the fish she held.
“Give it back!” She screamed underwater, and could feel the cold liquid filling her throat once more. Damn it! She panicked, and flailed with the now dead fish still in her hand, her mind racing to find a way to prevent the water from extinguishing the fire within her. She suddenly shoved the fish into her face, bits of viscera sealing her mouth and gore pulled towards her nostrils. She accidently consumed chunks of its body, and immediately spit out the wrecked corpse.
“Bleh! Bleh! Bleh!” She coughed and spat, with a disgusted expression as she floated aimlessly. She stopped and stared at her hands, then looked to what remained of the fish had half eaten and half destroyed.
“What? Wha- I-I I didn’t mean to!” She reached out and held the dead fish in her hands delicately. “No, no. Come on, you’re fine! Wake up! No! Get up!” But the dead do not rise no matter how much you pray, and Courage found herself weeping in the deep depths, her tears mingling with the dark water.
A presence, set to depart, lingered as she did so. The ghostly figure watched, just distant enough to be invisible to the faint glow of Godfish viscera around Courage, yet nearing with every sob. A lapse in attention from the Herald was all it took, and before Courage could even notice a pale hand wiped at a tear as it formed from the corner of her eye. The figure before her, a haze of salt precipitating out of and dissolving into the water, regarded the hand they’d touched Courage’s tears with curiously. It spoke with a familiar feminine voice as its blurry gaze remained fixed on the finger, “You’re not her. But you are familiar. Like the lost ones. They were her creations? There wasn’t a way to save them, at least- then.”
The figure shifted its gaze to courage and swam about her, leaving faint trails of dissolving salt in the sea, “I’ve never seen one of you like this. Moving, alive, body mostly intact. How... Odd. Did she make all of your people like you?”
Courage’s eyes widened when she realized she was not alone, another being had somehow approached her without her even realizing it. She gasped in surprise, only to then realize that she was no longer drowning. She could breathe, or something akin to it at least.
“Are you a goddess?” The reckless champion asked, feeling a familiar sense of awe fill her as she watched the shape within the salt shift and swim around. Honor compelled her to introduce herself then, and Courage attempted to bow while sinking. “I’m Courage, a servant of the King in Heaven, and a Champion of Honor. Thank you for your aid.” She said politely, mustering all of the etiquette she knew.
“Yes,” The figure stopped circling her and met Courage’s eyes as it answered her, “And you aren’t, Courage. You’re Mortal. I’ve not spoken to one of you before. Hm. Well, you’re welcome. Tell me, though, why would someone like you race through a divine storm and plunge themselves into the ocean? My presence here was no certainty, you couldn’t have been sent to meet with me.”
“I-uh… I didn’t intend to take a dive into the deep. I… made a mistake. But, may I ask a favor, your grace. I lost my sister somewhere, and I need to find her. Please, would you help me?” Courage had encountered other deities, and all of them had been kind. She hoped that the goddess before was as kind, otherwise she may have made another mistake.
”My grace?” The figure seemed to draw itself together at that, and Courage could even make out a smiling face even if for a moment. The Goddess preened, “Oh I can guess why she made you. I must find- Ehm, a sister you say? If you lost her at sea I can tell you she is not near, there is nothing like you for some distance. Beyond that... The world remains in chaos. Your sister is one creature in all creation, Courage. I will help you find her if she yet lives, but this is not a world of peace.”
“Thank you! Thank you so much! Fear might always be scared, but she isn’t weak. She’s still alive. She looks like me, so she shouldn’t be too hard to find.” Courage exclaimed, and glanced around the darkness. The light of day did not reach so far below the surface, and aside from the glittering presence of the goddess, there was nothing else she could really discern. She wasn’t even certain which way was up after spinning so many times during her descent.
“I’m not sure which is the right way though. She was so close, and then she wasn’t. Pulled away from me, and I couldn’t do anything!” Courage shook her head with anger, and wanted to find her lost sister and stolen kin, but she was helpless. Not anymore.
“We’ll find her. My Maker said we must have faith in the Divine. I believe in you, your grace.”
The pale figure reached out and as its hand swept over Courage’s she began to rise inexorably towards the surface. The Goddess matched her pace and introduced herself seriously, “I am Sala, the Goddess of Salt, and I promise you nothing Courage. I will help, because you interest me, and because enough has been lost in this world already, but do not mistake my aid for a guarantee. Far greater and nobler beings than your sister have perished.”
“It is an honor, Sala. I hope you’re able to meet my Maker, the Goddess of Honor. She is seeking the other Divine, giving them gifts. The last thing she said was that she was going to the pale orb in the night sky to investigate something, but she must’ve returned by now. If we find her, she’ll know where Fear is, and she’ll give you her gifts. More humans, like myself.” Courage explained as they ascended, seeing the light beyond.
“She spoke of a coming war, and wanted to work with the other Divine to protect Galbar. She’s spoken with Voligan, Zenia, and Chailiss, as well as another god named Voi. All of them are going to fight together. I’m going to fight beside them, will you join us?” Courage asked.
”Coming? The war is here, Courage, and we Gods are the ones waging it against the world.” Sala spoke bitterly as her body began to solidify, and then change. Salt turned to pale flesh, though the Goddess made no effort to imitate Courage. By the time the light of the Monarch’s Palace began to shine through the water above them she was a tall woman with sharp angular features, bone white skin, and wide dark eyes.
Sala glanced at Courage evidently concerned regarding this revelation and elaborated more forgivingly, “We create and your kind, those like you and others besides, are ground into the dirt or smashed on the rocks for being too weak to survive it. I’ve no doubt your maker is well intentioned. I know Voligan would not align himself with an enemy of the world, but even he has done damage simply by being. As have I.”
“We’ll find your maker, and your sister, but when I do accept creatures like you under my care the very last place I’ll put them is in the way of war. They would not survive it. Not yet.” The pair broke through the surface at last, and Sala watched as Courage began coughing up water, the air able to push out what was within her. The champion found that she did not stand atop the water, but sort of stood upon something unseen beneath the surface, held by the will of the divine, it seemed.
“Most,” gasp, “of humanity rests within Keltra,” gasp, “and those that are given away are under the protection of the Divine, ya. I want to fight… but if you say we’re not ready, then I’ll wait.” Courage replied after recovering from her ascent, and taking another deep breath.
She looked around, and saw that the ocean had calmed now, the storm had passed, and now the song of the sea had returned to its otherworldly melody. There was no sight of the three colossi, or any lands nearby, but the senses of a mortal were so much more limited compared to the senses of a goddess.
“Which way, your grace? I was hoping we would be able to see something when we reached the surface, but there’s only the sky and the sea.” Courage sought the resolve within her, and found her strength slowly returning.
“That way,” Sala pointed southwest absentmindedly. The Goddess started walking as she spoke, her steps unwavering despite being ankle deep in the ocean. She went on, “And don’t mistake me, the day will come when the world is strong enough to survive the abuse of its creators. My Godfish are a beginning. You’d have died without them, and their gift is more than that alone.”
“I… the Godfish… was I supposed to kill it?” Courage asked, the memory of its blood staining her hands, the taste of its death in her mouth; it sickened her, and she tried to forget it.
“Of course? The Goddess said bemusedly, “I created them to concentrate power, to consume the fallout of our Lord’s court’s reckless creation and distill it. How else would you take their power? Strength, resilience, the capacity to breathe water like air, there's no way to wrest the power from the animal without killing it. The world grows stronger with every Godfish that falls prey, every tiny morsel of divinity absorbed into mortality. It is why they exist.”
Courage nodded, and ignored the small feeling of illness that had arisen within her. She could not question the goddess, everything the deity had said seemed certainly true. She had not drowned after she had broken the creature in her hands and mouth, and she found herself reinvigorated as well, despite her stomach continual complaints. The reckless champion wondered whether she should seek out more of these God-fish, and consume them, so that she might have the strength to protect her loved ones and rid herself of her aversion to the sea.
“You’re very wise, your grace. I’m happy knowing my kin will be safe with you.” Courage said with a pleased grin. “I can’t let my sisters see me being all sad when we get back, ya.”
“As they ever could be,” Sala cooed in an immensely satisfied tone as she glanced back at Courage, “And I can only hope they share your... Demeanour, as it were.”
“You’ll like Kindness! She’s quiet, but considerate of others. She’s not very good at dancing though. Then there’s Fear… she’s reluctant to do anything she doesn’t have to, but she can be fun when you poke her out of her shell. There’s also Curiosity and Wanderer, and they’re as different as night and day. You’ll meet them along with our Maker, and they’ll thank you for saving me!” Courage said, while they walked across the sea.
“Have you created life like us? Those that serve the Divine with devotion.” Courage asked.
The goddess halted and stumbled at the question, but started moving again just as quickly. She coughed unconvincingly and deflected, “I look forward to meeting all of them. Especially your maker. A friend of Voligan you say?”
“Ya, Voligan and Zenia visited, and our Maker gifted them with my sleeping kin. Voligan promised to fight beside our Maker, same with Zenia. There’s also Chailiss, from the North.” The brash champion explained.
“Have you met with the other gods and goddesses?” Courage continued, crossing her hands behind her head, and wearing a cheeky grin.
“I have felt all of their influences upon the world. Each ripple they left in the ocean. I know them all Courage, even if I haven’t met more than a handful in-” The flustered Goddess suddenly smirked, and then failed to hide it as she pivoted, “I have met with the Lord of Reality. We are all, in the end, parts of him.”
“You’ve met the King in Heaven!?! What’s He like? Homura said that mortal eyes couldn’t perceive His shape without being lost in His majesty… I mean, my Maker said that.” Courage quickly amended, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, after asking her question.
“She did?” Sala blinked and strained to see her own mortal inspired eye, to no avail. She glanced at Courage and went on like she’d never tried, “Well, eyes are fragile. That is something I’ll have to fix but, hm, our Lord has them. Eyes, that is. And four arms.”
The Goddess' expression grew taut to wither as she moved beyond the Monarch's form, “And he’s kinder than you might think, but no less terrifying than you’re afraid of. He has the power to unmake everything. Be glad you’re beneath his notice.”
“Hmm… I hope to earn His attention as His faithful servant. I’ll make Him proud, just watch. When that day comes, I’ll remind everyone that it was you that saved me.” Courage replied, after imagining herself with four arms upon hearing Sala’s description of the Monarch of All. She looked at the goddess, and offered her another smile.
”Careful your enthusiasm doesn’t get anyone you care for killed.” Sala said frigidly. A mote of anguish in her eyes was extinguished as she looked away and bulldozed any possible reply from her companion, “Your human legs are too short. This will take weeks at your pace.”
The Goddess of Salt stepped up to Courage in the blink of an eye and wrapped her arms around the Herald’s waist. Courage only stared in confusion, and began stammering nonsensical words out at the contact. “We’ll be there today at mine.” Sala said before the world began to blur. She’d grabbed hold of Courage instants before a geyser blasted the pair so far into the sky that land was visible in the distance.
The wind buffeted them, but never so harshly that Courage was in danger. Again and again they descended only to be caught by a new geyser, and each time they seemed to be moving more quickly.
They found otherworldly signs of the Goddess of Honor, the sea held lingering remnants of her power and shimmered like red rubies beneath the shining sun. The land itself could be seen close by, not expecting the sudden arrival of Sala and the startled Courage who was trying and failing to catch her breath as they swiftly traveled so far. All the champion could do was silently scream and cling onto the goddess.
The shore was a mix of stone and vibrant flora consisting of a myriad of shapes and colors. However the primary pigment was a deep and rich scarlet painted across and suffused in the leaves and flowers that sang and danced with the wind.
All of which was indelicately brushed aside by the huge geyser of falling salt water which crashed down on it. At the vanguard of the destruction, far beyond the shore, Sala pried Courage off of her and placed her on the firm ground before announcing with only the smallest hint of uncertainty, “Keltra! We’ve arrived, Courage. If you'd, ahm, point us to your home?”
“I’m alive!” Were the first words the champion spoke from where she fell on the ground, before she pushed herself back up, and took in her surroundings. She staggered forward, and began laughing. “That way! That way! Your grace!” Courage shouted as she pointed westward along the shore. “Keltra waits along the shore!” She sang, before dancing around Sala. “Let’s do that again!”
“If that’s what you’d like.” Sala gave Courage a mischievous smile before throwing the champion in the direction she indicated. Homura’s champion sailed through the air in a long arc only to be caught by the very person who’d tossed her, and before she could get a word in she was thrown again.
This happened time and time again until Sala caught Courage and set her down while asking impatiently, “You pointed the right way, didn’t you? Did you see anything from up there?”
Courage felt her head wobble, and let out childish and confused laughter in response to the question of the goddess. “Eh? Hehe, what?” She managed to ask, still swaying back and forth. Then something else answered Sala’s question.
A red light framed with prismatic patterns and filled with divine power approached from the west. The presence of another goddess, as Homura walked towards Sala and Courage.
“Welcome sister. I am Homura, and I mean you no harm.” Homura’s voice reached them from afar, and Sala could easily see the golden spear the smaller goddess held in her hand shrink and disappear in her palm.
The Salt Goddess shook Courage’s shoulder and the Human felt a rush of clarity. Sala exhorted, “Wake up Courage, now isn't the opportune time for hypoxia. Your creator has arrived.”
Sala stepped forwards and answered Homura warmly, though her eyes never left the other divine’s hand. The one the weapon had vanished into. “Lady of Honor. Your subject here has been telling me about you and her sisters. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise. You have my gratitude, sister. I had thought that I lost this one.” Homura replied, and gestured to the astonished Courage, who looked between the two deities with the sudden realization of where she was. She quickly bowed before Homura. “Forgive me for my foolishness, everything that happened was my fault!” She said, refusing to rise after apologizing. The red goddess shook her head, and spoke softly. “It is I who should seek forgiveness. I let harm befall you and your sister, when I could have prevented it. Rise, Courage, and face me. I do not want you to surrender to shame now.”
Then she turned to the other goddess. “If my champion has explained properly, then I assume you are aware of my intentions.”
“You seek allies for a coming conflict. Yes, Courage told me that.” Sala answered mirthlessly, “I’m afraid you’ll find no comrade in arms here, Homura, but no enemy either. Violence and carelessness have already taken enough of us, and the world has borne the cost of the struggle.”
Homura allowed herself to smile, a small and forlorn smile hiding the shadows of grief. “I agree, and as long as you do not advocate death nor despair, then we have no reason to quarrel. If there is anything I can do to help you, then feel free to call upon me.” The red goddess reached out with her hand that had not held the celestial weapon. She moved carefully and gracefully, with sincerity shining in her red eyes.
“Let us clasp hands, for the sake of peace.”
Sala’s hand wavered at her side for a passing moment before she mirrored Homura’s actions and clasped the other Goddess’s hand. Even so, the Goddess of Salt met Homura’s grip.
Sala met Homura’s gaze as she spoke, “May it endure forever, Lady of Honor. On that point your subject Courage informed me you’ve already set about entrusting her people to the rest of our Lord’s court. I must ask: Is there a way I could obtain a number of these humans?”
The Goddess of Salt looked at Courage, the human still looking rather windblown, before going on with some mirth in her voice, “They’re delicate but, mostly, quite pleasant company. And, hm, their fragility can be corrected.”
“I am afraid my means of transportation recently wandered far away, but if you are able to transport them yourself, then there is no issue. Come with me, and I shall show you Keltra proper.” And the red goddess stepped back before gesturing for Sala to follow. Homura looked to Courage, standing awkwardly nearby. “Your sister awaits, Courage.”
Emerging from her palm, Daybringer stretched forth and shimmered in the hand of the goddess. She pointed its tip skyward, and the weapon released a column of celestial light that reached the heavens. The light was answered by a far away titanic bellow.
“Shall we?” The Goddess of Honor asked, looking at Sala once more.
“I'll await you there.” Sala said as she eyed Homura and Courage. The Goddess’s body began to change from flesh to white crystal as she spoke, crumbling and cracking and benign carried away as dust in a sudden wind. Just as Sala’s face was breaking apart she added with amusement, “I’m afraid you’ll have to rely on the speed of your maker this time, Courage. I’ve no doubt she can indulge your travel preferences as well as I.”
Flakes of salt like snow carried themselves away on the wind, flying in a sinuous stream towards that distant bellow. The Goddess of Honor and her champion stood there, watching as the salt soared through the sky towards Keltra. The goddess spoke first.
“We will have words later, Courage. What you did was foolish, and has hurt the ones that love you. You should have waited for me.” She said, and though she spoke quietly, her voice was as sharp as the spear she held. It pierced the reckless champion, and shook her like the raging sea with its mighty waves.
“I couldn’t let them - ”
“Enough! I will speak with you further when you return to Keltra.” The red goddess interjected with fierce eyes akin to burning rubies, and a stern tone that did not invite any dispute. Courage simply accepted the words of her Maker, and allowed herself to hold her own words back for now. She watched as Homura said nothing more before Homura began leaping back to the citadel, following the stream of salt in the sky.
Courage let out a sigh, knowing there was little else she could, except to wait for the colossus to reach her. “Guess that’s my fault, ya.” She muttered to herself.
- - - - - - - - -
The towering walls shimmered in the light of the imperious sun; the stone more similar to the rubies and garnets of the world than any of the more mundane materials more often used for the construction of buildings. However, the citadel exuded a haunting aura, akin to the song of the sea, harrowing and silently sorrowful, touched by death. The essence of the Goddess of Honor held it together, but it was like a corpse strung up and pretending to be alive.
All of which was rather lost on Sala. The Salt Goddess skipped the nuance and found herself admiring the glimmering citadel as she swirled about it as a fine dust of salt caught in a living breeze. It wasn’t so much that she was ignorant of the aura, but rather that its effect wasn’t so different from the Goddess’s own disposition as of late. If Sala noticed it at all, it was in a private lamentation that she couldn't even bring herself to enjoy the beauty.
As she beheld Homura’s fortress Sala reflected on the fact that the only time she’d felt alive since her promise to Ao-Yurin had been when she’d accompanied the mortal, Courage. She wondered if that was the real reason the Lady of Honor had created them. The flattery and deference were intoxicating, but more than that? They were a distraction. The world might be crumbling under the weight of its creators, one tiny crack at a time, but obsession was a pit. Sala didn’t need to delve too deep into it to know that. Diversion might not be a cure for the ailment, but it was close enough.
In the spirit of the sentiment she focused her attention on the land around her, taking in the ashen and desolate fields, devoid of any flora and fauna, and inaccessible because of the lack of any gates along the red wall of the fortress. In its center, atop a hill, sat the keep itself. Standing before one of the many entrances into the structure was another simulacrum of the Goddess of Honor, akin to Courage. She stood there alone, and looked forlornly towards the sky.
Sala pulled herself together before them, grains of salt shifting and melting into the form of a woman. Once more she wove herself a body of flesh, but this time one less alien. At least, to this place. She stood before Homura’s effigy looking distinctly Human. Familiar, yet pale, beige skin, sharp but natural features, the appearance she’d chosen was in ways a reflection of Courage, Homura, and this mortal’s. In other ways, it differed. Sala stood half again the mortal’s height, wore a long cascade of dark purple ‘hair’ that smoked and cracked in the open air, and sported irises that seemed to contain the seas themselves.
It was, to her, the least she could do to meet Homura. Modesty and deference were not the preserve of Goddesses who erected giant statues of themselves and made their servants into reflections. Not that Sala would ever say that.
“Unless they all look like her.” The Goddess muttered to herself as she regarded the Lady of Honor’s likeness.
The second Herald of Honor spoke softly, a stark contrast from the way Courage spoke. “Welcome to Keltra, your grace. My name is Kindness.” Kindness said, introducing herself before she bowed before the goddess. Her entire demeanor was different, more akin to Homura herself, but lacking the more acute manner of articulating her words and those fierce fires that burned in the eyes of the Goddess of Honor. Then there was the lack of true divinity, of course. The presence of something that can only be described as sacred.
From behind the mortal, emerging out of the numerous doorways leading into the keep, came an otherworldly light that seeped into the stone, and into the creature that stood in front of Sala. The light was suffused with the essence of Homura, much like the stone, but it served another purpose. It stirred the stone, it invigorated the champion, it sustained them with what divine power it possessed, akin to the Godfish of the sea. Strange sounds originated from within the keep, like whispers on the wind, and then the cackle of a great fire.
“I sense a theme.” Sala commented thoughtlessly as she paced towards Kindness, gazing around intently at the light. The Goddess stopped just short of the Human to look down at her and ask, “The Lady of Honor has built quite a fortress. To protect this?”
Sala gestured around her, to the light and the sound and the manifestation of Keltra’s power. The simulacrum arose, and then nodded. “This fortress was erected as a bastion for the faithful. A shelter from the coming storm. That is what my Maker told me. There is little inside, aside from the rest of my kin currently sleeping. Have you come to collect some, your grace?” Kindness asked, and the goddess could hear the faint hint of resentment in the champion’s voice.
“Just a shelter? What a waste.” Sala’s brow creased in disapproval. She eyed Kindness wearily, “But our Lord's court are welcome to their indulgences. And I have, Kindness, but not without at least returning one. Albeit, one who has a low opinion of your skill at dance.”
Kindness became evidently confused upon hearing her words, before she regained her composure and the impassive mask returned. “What do you mean? Have… have you spoken with Courage?” The champion inquired with a slight tremble she attempted to hide.
For all Kindness’s tremble was obvious to the Goddess, there could be little doubt that the mortal caught Sala’s knowing smirk, “I spoke to a Courage. I’m not sure I’m prepared to guess at how many Humans who look just like you named Courage Homura created, at least not quite yet.”
Kindness closed her eyes, wincing from internal pain, before she looked at the goddess, eyes shining with nascent tears and desperation. “Please, where is she? Give her back. It was my fault. I was the one that let her go. I just want to see her again.” Kindness pleaded with the goddess, falling to her knees, and reaching out for an answer, for the words that would bring her hope or despair.
Almost immediately Sala regretted teasing the mortal. Courage had given her the idea that- But no. Was that how she’d looked? The Goddess winced and backed away from Kindness as she all but stammered out, “Your maker, the Lady of Honor- Homura has taken custody of your sister already. I came ahead of them. She’ll be here soon, I’m sure!”
“Please, I need to see her. I have lost one sister, I cannot lose another.” Kindness would not rise, her legs would not move. Only her hands had kept her from falling to the ground, as she placed them before herself. Her words were accompanied by the familiar light of the golden spear that Homura held.
Returning to the keep with a powerful leap over the walls, the Goddess of Honor descended near where Sala and Kindness were. She approached, and betrayed the tiniest hint of surprise to find her champion on her knees, and her sister standing there. “Hmm… What happened? Has my herald offended you, sister?” Homura asked.
“Offended?” Sala glanced bemusedly from Homura to Kindness and back before a look of realization dawned on her face and she winced even harder, “Lady of Honor I assure you I’ve not touched her. Your herald was merely inquiring as to the, ahem, condition of her sister.”
“I see… Kindness, you need not fret. Courage will be here soon. She is on her way now. You may go and meet her on her path, if you wish.” Homura replied, speaking to her champion before nodding to Sala. “I apologize, I did not intend to impose upon you with my mistakes. Your gifts are inside.” Homura’s words were accompanied by the struggle of Kindness, rising to her feet, before she bowed to both deities.
“Please… excuse me.” The champion said, then took a step in the direction Homura had come from. She seemed to hesitate, as though she thought she may stumble, but then she leapt, and soared through the sky, multiple jumps until she disappeared over the precipice of the red walls
Homura herself gestured towards the immense doorway of the keep, further along the uphill path. [b]“Humanity awaits, sister.”[/b[
“Ah- Yes. Of course. Lead the way. Sala spoke haltingly as she hurriedly stepped forwards, keeping just ahead of Homura as to hide her flushed cheeks and pained expression. She felt ashamed and humiliated all at once. The Goddess pitied Kindness, related to her, and couldn't help but be aggravated by the misunderstanding the Human had caused.
As Sala fretted, the press of the wind, and the presence of the light, had changed. She had stepped inside keep, followed by Homura, and found herself swallowed in a strange and forlorn aura, as the touch of the imperious sun had receded, and was replaced by the calm caress of the great monument that blazed before her.
The interior was almost as empty as the fields outside… There was little motion aside from the bright bonfire that illuminated the massive hall, but Sala could see the thousands upon thousands of prone pallid forms that were intricately arranged around the edges of the light, on the borders between the dancing shadows that obscured the rest of the vast hall, and the warm radiance of the bonfire. There was divine power coming from the flames, its warmth and light offered strength to the mortals all around; it was sustaining them, suffusing them with vigor.
It was quiet, but the Goddess could hear the humans softly breathing as they all slept peacefully. Their stillness seemed to beckon her to come to them, they were like a virgin canvas, and she was a painter with all the tools she needed in her hands. None were like Courage, or Kindness, but they all possessed potential.
“Hmm… I must mention my appreciation of your Aspect. I have discovered Salt to be beautiful in its simplicity, yet much like Earth and Water, it is wonderfully woven into the tapestry of creation. I incorporated some of it into the composition of humanity, but my understanding of it is lacking. I hope this has not offended you.” Homura said, as she suddenly walked beside Sala, and tilted her head downwards, in an act of respective recognition.
Sala’s embarrassed blush turned to a flattered one in an instant. She preened, “It is, isn’t it? And I did notice my aspect in the veins of your creations, Lady of Honor. Far from lacking, it is a brilliant application. In order to live they carry me and my aspect to every corner of the Galbar. It's just as I’d have done.”
Sala paused and her expression darkened for the briefest of moments. She fixed her gaze on the humans at the periphery of the hall and spoke less confidently, “I only wish it hadn’t meant- Well, nothing. Nevermind. You’ve done me a kindness already, Lady of Honor, and you do me a greater one now. How many of them do you have?”
The eyes of the red goddess roamed over those that slept in the hall, and recalled the number of those loaded onto the three colossi, as she quickly calculated the answer to Sala’s question. “I am in possession of three hundred and twenty one thousand, nine hundred and eighty-five humans. The majority is within this keep.” Homura replied, looking back at the Goddess of Salt. “You have saved Courage, and for that I would offer you more than that which I have offered our other siblings. You may have as many as two hundred thousand, if you so desire.”
The Goddess of Salt began to pace in the light of the bonfire, violet hair shimmering as it steamed and fumed a trail of thin smoke behind her. Her thoughts raced and her wide blue eyes skipped from the many sleeping Humans to Homura and back again as she considered the other Goddess’s offer. Two hundred thousand was more than Sala had imagined Homura had.
It was a reminder that others had been busy while she moped in the oceans and lazed about their waves. And that itself was a reminder of what Sala had lost. She eventually brought herself to a stop, spinning on her heel and raising her voice to speak as much to Homura as to herself, “One hundred and eleven thousand, one hundred and eleven. I will take that many, Lady of Honor, and I will give them all an equal and opposite born from my own power. And I will build them a... City. A living city that will shield them from anyone or anything that tries to break them apart. A power and protection to grow alongside them.”
“So be it. Do you wish to awaken them here, or shall you transport them while they remain dormant?” A subtle and sincere joy flickered in Homura’s eyes upon hearing Sala’s vision, and seeing the similarities in it and her own proclaimed purpose for Keltra made her realize that perhaps there were others among the Divine that would be capable of compassion, and willing to protect life, as opposed to just amusing themselves with it. It was a hopeful thought that was reflected in her red eyes for an ephemeral moment.
“Awaken them. I’ll take them to the sea and then across it. I have a place in mind for them, for now.” Sala replied absently before beginning to muse aloud, “And when I’ve poured enough into them, made them strong enough, then the whole of the world will be their stronghold.”
“Indeed, sister. We will not let them suffer. We will not let them die.” Homura quietly agreed, and pointed her spear towards the doorway that had entered through. The rumble of the land announced a great change, but the keep remained still, and nothing visible seemed to have occurred. “The way is clear. Guide them towards their new home, and I hope we can meet again when you have created the world you have envisioned.”
“When these creations of yours can make even us tremble, we will have arrived there.” Sala said, thoughts of a greater world dominating her attention even as she built its foundations. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before exhaling a mist of salt that snaked and swirled its way towards the Humans, awakening all that Sala deemed to be hers. Which, coincidentally, were those nearest to the exits.
Human legs were short and they took ages to get anywhere. As Sala forced her power into the Human vessels and gave them form she, rather unintentionally, let that bias sink in. Her people grew taller, the average man and woman both standing at some six and a half feet, but that was only the beginning. Sala blessed them with endurance, strength, wisdom, and a toughness that would shame their kin. Resistance to poison, curse, and predation of the spirit. With each boon the Goddess poured her aspect into the awakening throng, and neither Sala nor the power she was a manifestation of were unwilling to exact a price for power.
For every strength she endowed her people with, Sala bound them more tightly to her. They would drink nothing but water as saline as the sea, and they would hunger for the strange and rare salts Sala had begun to grace reality with. To them her desert, to some of her peers a sore that wounded the world, would be alluring and intoxicating.
As the people of Salt awoke, they witnessed the birth of their appointed opposites. From every one of them Sala took a token of flesh, a single earlobe, and used it to grow another living soul. A soul inextricably linked to the one whose flesh had birthed it. Wisps of salt whipped back and forth as the Goddess created from every man a woman, and from every woman a man. One hundred eleven thousand, one hundred and eleven, of each.
As they awoke they knew only that they had another they could rely on absolutely, and that their Goddess bid them to follow her. They did not see the small red goddess among them, bidding them farewell.
“Lady of Honor,” Sala addressed Homura warmly as she stepped forwards to lead the crowds, “You have my thanks.”
“Shining sister of mine, know that you have my gratitude as well. It has been a pleasure speaking with you. May you find only good fortune on your journey, and please, feel free to come back here whenever you desire.”
The wall of Keltra had opened, a large pass through the southern section that led towards the red sea. Homura followed the humans that were led by Sala, invisibly escorting them outside of the keep. Rather than spread out they formed a long column, some few dozen following Sala, and some few dozen following them, until the ribbon of undulating humanity stretched out for countless miles to the sea. From above Kelta looked less a keep and more a hive disgorging workers into the custody of a departing queen.
And perhaps that was what she was. Sala led her people, saw their expressions of awe and trust, and began to think. The Lord of Reality had his court. Homura her servants. If Sala’s people were to one day remake the world such that it could withstand the carelessness and callousness of its creators, why should she not lead them there herself?
As she walked the Goddess spotted a stand of trees and pulled at them, forcing them to cannibalize themselves and grow to follow her as great networks of moving roots tunneling through the earth. Any vegetation that dared poke out above the omnipresent grasses fell under Sala’s sway and soon the ground flanking the Human procession was churning with living roots following the deity as surely as her people did.
Keltra was not overfar from the sea, yet it was nonetheless astonishing that by the time the Goddess reached the shore the last of her people had only just departed the citadel. As Sala approached the salty ocean she forced the roots, against their very nature, to plunge themselves into the water.
A waterfall of living wood erupted from the coast, each tendril of wood bending to Sala’s will in totality the moment it touched the waves and transforming itself into a mere component of a greater whole. The roots wove themselves into great rafts that curled and shaped into colossal ships. Four enormous arks, each one made from living wood now adapted to drink the salt seas themselves, floated off the coast of Keltra mere hours after their creator had conceived of them.
Sala simply stepped up, and in a single leap she stood at the bow of the nearest ship. With a voice that stirred the hearts of all those she had shaped the Goddess spoke, “My people, your future awaits. And I have made you strong, but not strong enough. You will have to be more. You must prove you can be more. Come, and show me.”
There was hesitation from some, but those that had strode just behind their Goddess? Who had seen her bend and twist nature as if it were string? They dove into the waters without the need to question or doubt. Others followed, and soon the sea churned with Humanity. Tens of thousands of hands grasped at and climbed upon the arcs even as they began to depart. The few stragglers swam harder to catch up, and catch up they did.
The people of Salt had been born, and they were unwavering in faith.
Costs:
Sala: -2 Vigor (Making Salty Humans), -1 Vigor (Duplicating, genderbending, and genetically scrambling Humans), 1 Vigor (Making 4 living arcs)
Homura: Does not spend any Vigor.
Courage gains 2 Spirit (+1 minimum, +1 medium post), and Kindness gains 1 Spirit (+1 minimum)
Summary:
Courage is having a very bad no good day. She fucked up at work, got her family to try and bail her out, and now she’s drowning and they’re presumed dead. Nice one girl. Anyway she’s kinda neat, so Sala (who was dissolved in the ocean) notices her thrashing and being a sad little monkey and feeds her a fish. Shockingly, this works.
Anyway Courage can breathe underwater now, even if she’s a vegetarian and doesn’t appreciate fish murder. Sala interrogates her a bit, and decides to help her. Mostly because she enjoys being called your grace. So, Sala helps her. Then Sala throws her at mach 2 with water geysers because Courage is slow. Legs? Who thought legs were a good idea. Anyway this goes on until they find land, and then Courage makes an unwise comment, and ends up being airborne again until Homura finds them and is like ‘damn this human you’re yeeting is mine’. Also Homura is lowkey kinda mean to her servants who look exactly like her. I’m not saying it’s weird. It might be a bit weird.
From here Sala goes to Keltra, teases Kindness, feels bad, and gets judgey because Homura built a huge citadel full of divine energy as a shelter instead of making like, magical fish or smth that people can use to get beefy. Saltgirl meets Homura again, gets some Humans, and...
Sala blessed them with endurance, strength, wisdom, and a toughness that would shame their kin. Resistance to poison, curse, and predation of the spirit. With each boon the Goddess poured her aspect into the awakening throng, and neither Sala nor the power she was a manifestation of were unwilling to exact a price for power.
For every strength she endowed her people with, Sala bound them more tightly to her. They would drink nothing but water as saline as the sea, and they would hunger for the strange and rare salts Sala had begun to grace reality with.
No avoiding that! That’s what be! Anyway Sala does that and then makes some trees into boats and starts thinking ‘lol if my people should have the world, and i have them, maybe....’
Violence shook the world. Great and terrible forces played out across the land, rending and tearing at Galbar, opening wounds on its surface as great as those sustained by the Lord of Reality himself. In any direction she could sense the spawn of that great being fighting and dying. Creating and destroying. It was as it had been from the very moment Sala was born.
She paid it little mind. The reverberations of powers bound and unleashed pushed and pulled at her, but not as more than waves upon the surface of the sea. Sala had returned to the world, released by her fallen brother and her creator, but her thoughts remained in the palace where she had seen the consequences of her own reckless creation.
Of her existence. It bothered her. She and Ao-Yurin were as close to siblings as any of the Monarch’s court. Their aspects combined so readily that she struggled to feel the wrongness of the pairing. When she had first touched water it had been bliss. To allow herself to dissolve and be carried across the world in the tides and currents was a joy she’d hoped to share with her sibling. Now? She alone experienced it, and it felt hollow. Ao-Yurin had died for her to feel what had been only natural to them.
Sala felt the ocean as she spread through it. She’d allowed herself to be washed away after returning to Galbar, meaning to fulfill her promise. Intending to assume her stewardship. Instead she’d sat, languid, listening to the world in the language of waves. Unable to move forward so readily. Unwilling to ignore the truth of what she heard happening all around her dispersed being. That the world her Lord had created was dangerous, unfair, even cruel. Sala stewed, the irrefutable evidence of her realization spelled out in the distant chaos that moved even the sea, even her. In the death of Water's first master. She had been created in a way that doomed Ao-Yurin, and she felt conflicts of the same nature playing out everywhere. Their consequences dooming more besides.
She watched as seeds of intelligence were cast aside and left to drown, victims of an aggression far beyond them. One that never considered their presence. It was terrible and inevitable, Sala felt. Aspects that clashed and the full powers of divinity unleashed in the struggle, what could hope survive that? She hated it. She hated the kindness the Monarch had shown her after she had contributed to it. The way things were could not stand, or everything would find itself a victim of circumstance. Everyone.
She wouldn’t accept it. She was not born integral to the world, nor had Ao-Yurin been. If they both could change that, damn the consequences, then why not this? Why secure only the seas? Sala, a mind spreading through the water of the world, hatched upon an idea. Her promise could serve to do more than secure the seas. Thinking beings desired their careless annihilation no more than she did, they only required the tools.
Sala began to reform, at last, with the solution to her troubles growing clearer in her imagination. She directed herself to grow into a unified being once more at the precipice of Ruina’s ignorant ‘test’ of the ocean. One of a number of vast expanses of the ocean floor left exposed, the water that should have obscured the desolate land held back by an unseen divine power. It would be the first to fall.
If destruction was too easy, too appealing, then she only had to make it harder. The Goddess of Salt sat, whole, beneath a mile of water. Before her, the edge. She poked and prodded at it, and she knew its mere existence had doomed countless creatures already. Beyond the wall of water sat a pile of corpses, mummified by salt that rained down from the turbulent ocean as it raged against its confinement.
Sala took shape as a woman with countless arms, grasped a passing fish, and reached into its being as she started to weave. She’d come to know flesh, and she knew it to be too weak for what she needed. So she extracted every muscle, every fiber, every minuscule strand of matter that made the fish what it was, and imbued them all with the tiniest shred of divinity. The fish could not thrash as she remade it, but she felt its desire to.
A price. It would emerge greater. Scales became milky white crystals, bones turned to shimmering iridescent metal, and the animal's flesh began to glow with bound power. When she was done a brilliant shining creature sat before Sala, an immortal being that carried her power, her intent. So long as there was power for the creature to eat, it would endure.
When one was done she simply allowed it to swim away, and when it swam towards the barrier Ruina had erected? The edifice of divinity began to leak as the humble fish nibbled at it. Soon the fish was left flopping on the dry land beyond, but where it had breached the vast unseen wall? A torrent of water erupted out. It's circumstances wouldn't harm the animal too badly, but if they did? Sala did not need that one.
Moving walls of precipitating salt herded millions of fish towards her, and one by one she worked upon them. Mortal blood dyed the water around her dark red as she disposed of it. All that the fish were had to be changed, and much needed to be discarded. And every time Sala finished one of her creations? Another hole was torn in Ruina’s barrier.
When it finally shattered and the ocean rushed back in, Sala hardly even noticed. Ruina’s influence would extend for countless years to come, the fish had only broken the barrier, not undone the divine working. Smaller holes would open at random all across the ocean in the future, but they too would be found and destroyed. Her creations made certain of that.
Of course, fulfilling her promise had only been half the effort. Oh yes, the fish blessed with a shred of her divinity would seek out and consume the energy of that which threatened the seas, but that was only the beginning. Their flesh was what Sala had poured her energy and thought into, and that was not without reason.
Those mortals who consumed the fish would grow stronger, less vulnerable. They would not sicken from poisons, nor would they choke on water. Their muscles would grow stronger in a way only the influence of divinity could explain, and their skin would resist all but mortal blows. It was a litany of blessings, but in a way Sala’s gift was her absolution. A way to atone for a crime she'd never intended. But it was not a gift without cost. Agelessness like the fish had could be obtained by feasting on nothing but their bodies, but only if one was willing to withdraw from the chaos and danger of land. The ocean was to be Sala’s, and those who wanted her protection would have it so long as they remained within her power.
The world was a cruel place, and she would ensure the willing survived it. A promise as great as the one she’d made to Ao.
Sos sala is being a sad sack. The world is going to shit, well its always been going to shit, and she kinda just is floating around dissolved in the ocean being morose. Then she’s like, fuck this is ridiculous and cruel, I gotta make sure at least something and someone survives this. So she decides to fulfill her promise to Ao at the same time as she makes things easier for mortals by making a species of semi-divine fish. These magical fish are attracted to any significant disturbances in the ocean and they use their power to consume and break down magic, divine or mortal. They break up one of Ruina’s holes in the ocean. Bonus: Sala wants the mortals to have an easier time surviving too so she makes eating the fish a way to gain its power in a limited way. Eating the fish grants immunity from mundane poisons, waterbreathing, enhanced strength, and armor like skin. If you ate NOTHING but the fish, you might gain immortality like they do. Side effects include growing scales and losing the ability to live on land.
Semi-Divine Fish: -10 Vigour (8 to counteract the barriers, 2 to cover my ass for pulling a stunt like this)
The Galbar trembled as Voligan forced the power he held into the world, and at its very nexus the group of three Divines bore witness to the creation of land. It would be the first great separation of the world. Where the enigmatic God of Water had made all as one their opposite, the vast and amiable Voligan, had created symmetry. For while the ocean remained wide and unconquered, already eating away at the upstart rocks which broke through the waves, Voligan’s act had forged its equal.
Continents now sat unearthed, claimed and unclaimed, vibrant and not. From the moment Voligan’s act was done the pantheon, once idle, jumped to their purpose. Life rose from the dirt and infected the seas. The skies came alive with fire, burning towards a single point. Seemingly inspired, others forged yet more land by forcing it from the clutches of the ocean. Through it all the unseen creator of water seemed content to let such things be.
And why not? Sala, the Goddess of Salt and one of the three Divines that had brought about this division of the world, had seen the resilience of water. The inaugural work of the Water God was truly inspiring in its tenacity. It had weathered destruction itself, and now water found itself not displaced by the land, but integral to it. Great rivers, small streams, wide lakes, and more ran across the newly born landmasses and served to nourish the fresh life upon them.
To Sala’s irritation she hadn’t been able to grace all of them with her aspect, though she had tried. The forces Voligan had wielded may have bowed to her own influence at times, but only at times and only for a tantalizingly short period. So, pure water dominated the land. Storms had choked the nascent world of Galbar since the very first act of divinity, and though their rains quickly became one with her aspect Sala had been dismayed to see how fast the water she’d touched upon land returned to the ocean.
Even now she could see that her influence over the land would be all but washed away in time. As much as the Water God was bound to her, the one who could never leave her and who she most yearned to meet in this world, she briefly bridled with resentment that their aspect endured where hers had not. She would always have her strongholds: the wondrous glimmering land she’d built would devour any water that sought to displace it and the lakes she’d managed to flood with salt would only see her influence tighten.
It was just... Less than what the God of Water held onto. She hadn’t expected to undermine herself, and briefly Sala felt the already burning cloud of salt around her growing incandescent. It was something she brought under control, but knew hadn’t gone unnoticed. Deflecting, Sala addressed her two peers with cloying warmth, "By our Lord's will a new world is born. Our work is beyond beautiful. My compliments, Lord of Earth and Lady of Heat, friends.”
“It could not have been done without your aid, sister.” Voligan said, pleased with the flurry of work that their creations had started, as he saw the land that was spreading across the planet. “Your salts have given us a variety of unique features, and your desert is a wonder in and of itself. Without your influence, many of the lands would simply be rock or grass. Necessary, perhaps, but boring nonetheless. You bring variety and with that variety any life on the planet will be strengthened. I thank you for your assistance in the creation of Termina and Orsus.”
“And I you for your kind words.” Sala practically cooed in response to the praise, and for a moment the haze of exotic burning salts around her cooled and began to fall like lurid snow. For the first time a face grew on the blankness that had been the Goddess’s crystal head, and she smiled. Her features were sharp enough so that she appeared alien when compared to the likenesses of others who’d assumed a similar form and inspired her, but her delight was as genuine as any they could conjure. She gave Voligan a nod, neck crumbling and forming anew, while she spoke ”It was a true pleasure to work at your side, my Lord. May we do so again.”
The Goddess of Heat had remained silent even as her movements grew increasingly erratic, her smooth orbits became hurried and rushed dashes taking stock this way and that. It seemed she finally broke out of her silence as Sala replied to the great earthen lord.
“The work is good, but the peace is gone. Do you not know this? The oncoming rush thrums anew.”
She seemed to study the two hurriedly, before stopping speaking with far less than perfect clarity as to her meaning. She started adding variance on heights to her orbit partaking elsewise in some preoccupation beyond the conversation.
“The peace is gone, but creation is in its place. The silence is gone, but the oncoming noise is not something to be afraid of, or dislike. We will meet again to create, I'm sure of it sisters.” Voligan rumbled, looking around as their siblings finally started taking actions.
Then, a sudden appearance of a bone white figure came behind Sala casting a shadow over the gathered gods, yet singularly looking upon the goddess of salt. It was He, the Monarch of All, that cast His white glare upon the goddess, His regal presence overwhelming their conversation. There was a tense moment as He merely looked upon Sala, a clear unease growing as the Supreme Being looked to Voligan, then to Yoliyachicoztl, and back to Sala. A commanding voice spoke, His voice casting out even the subtle brushing of winds, the weight of His news silenced anything that Galbar could have produced, ’Goddess Sala, Lady of the Salt, with Voligan and Yoliyachicoztl as my witness to this accusation, you have unknowingly committed a great sin. You have poisoned Ao-Yurin, and now the Master of the Seas lay dying in my palace.’
Voligan looked between the Monarch and Sala before moving forward, his head down deferentially, and putting himself between their father and her. “ Ao-Yurin is a god. They are of your creation, as are all of us. To be dying so easily, it seems to me that they would be destined to perish regardless of Sala’s actions. Could it be that Ao-Yurin was already dying, and the actions of Sala unknowingly and unintentionally hastened what was inevitable, Lord? Then it would not be a sin, but a tragic accident, surely.” Voligan bowed his head lower, and more submissively, trying to make his massive form as unchallenging as possible.
For all Voligan blocked her view of the Monarch, he did nothing to shield Sala from the Lord of Reality’s pronouncement. In the interminable moment between Voligan’s words and the creator of them all’s reaction the Goddess of Salt felt as if something had taken a hold of her and left her sick and suffocating. All she had done was what she had seen the Water God- Ao-Yurin, do. That hers and their aspects had blended when they met? She’d thought they’d be her partner and she theirs.
And of them Sala hadn't for a second thought herself the danger. How could she? Water had conquered every obstacle and found its place in every creation their peers concocted. She couldn't even hold onto the land she helped raise. It wasn’t possible. The Monarch, their Lord, had to have made a mistake. Had someone lied to him?
The thought swept her up and balmed the incoherent terror rising in her being. Before she could think twice or even risk doubting her newfound conviction Sala moved just out of Voligan’s wake and quavered, “T- This must be a mistake my Lord. I would not- I could not hurt Ao-Yurin. Someone has deceived you! I’ve poisoned no one! I swear it!”
’No, I cannot be deceived, Sala. I see all that goes on in my realm and while you have not deliberately poisoned Ao-Yurin, it was still wrought by your will.’
The Supreme Being folded His hands together, slipping them into unseen sleeves as He moved forwards towards Sala without moving another muscle. His form cast a long shadow over the three gods, the light from that great wound upon His chest even seemed to dim as the presence of such magnificence demanded it. The Monarch of All’s head slowly turned towards Voligan, a gaze casting itself down upon the massive god as a few more stern utterances manifested into the air with a light rumbling.
’And know that while I have not designed you all with death in mind, it is a reality all the same. Know that I would not make any god to merely wither and die at a moment's notice. While this was an accident, it is a sin all the same, Land-Maker.’
Yoliyachicoztl had remained mostly silent throughout the news, and some of the resultant conversations. She had kept to her erratic patterns and orbit, she had kept alone.
Now however she interrupted after a sudden turn towards the Monarch, “You are certain it is salt in water that has done this grave ill O’ Lord-Of-All? There are holes blasted by divine might and a new material, an energy of some kind with that stormy tree to the far south. You have said none escape your left view and so we must believe, however we must be much more fallible, as one of our number falling already has proved our inferiority to your might. Please show us what you have seen that proves it is poison, salt’s power and will into the oceans. The all of our kith and kin will no doubt wish to know with certainty what has caused such calamity. We are named as your witnesses to accusation, and although shocked and appalled, we cannot help but but prepare to accept your knowledge and so share your convictions to our peers.”
She curved back into an orbit around Voligan once more. Evidently finished with her presentation and request.
“A sin implies intention, Lord. I argue not that Sala didn’t poison Ao-Yurin, merely that your judgement of her be from the position of a tragedy that both parties are victims of, rather than of a sinner’s crimes.” Voligan spoke again, eyeing Yoliyachicoztl as she orbited around him. She was much more bold than he was, making demands of the Monarch. Though perhaps it was because she hadn’t seen how he handled the near destruction of the universe.
The Monarch of All’s gaze fell upon Yoliyachicoztl, clear that her words seemed to have struck a chord with His mind though not apparent except for the silence that followed. With a flick of one of His hands, all around them were summoned the tiny specks of salt that separated themselves from the water, remaining suspended in the very air around them. After a moment, allowing the gods to observe the essence of Sala, it withdrew to His hand and condensed into a ball that the Monarch of All then wrapped His fingers around. His gaze fell to Voligan once more, a voice ushering into reality, His words growing with intensity as He spoke.
’Sala has salted all the seas, all the oceans. She left none untouched, Ao-Yurin is one with the oceans and, as such, she had unknowingly struck Ao-Yurin. Now, a god lies dying in my palace. I will not have my judgement questioned nor do any of you hold rank to do so.’
With those words the ball collapsed back into a pile before the Monarch of All sprinkled it back into the water, making sure that none of the specks remained before tucking His arm back into an unseen sleeve.
The great serpent of heat continued in circling the earthen giant replying simply, “So then what is our unquestionable purpose in observing the Great Sin of Sala O' Mighty and Munificent Lord?”
’To merely act as witness, as I had stated earlier, little serpent.’
“Then I witness as I have.”
“J-jugement?” Sala all but squeaked. She barely held herself back from fleeing, seeing the displeasure of her creator before her. It wouldn’t help. Her crystal body began to bubble and steam away as she panickedly gave up on the affected form and retreated into the gaseous cloud surrounding it.
She started to pull at her aspect in the ocean, gathering it until the water below began to turn pale with precipitating salts. Sala, now little more than a lurid haze in the air, begged, “Please, it was a mistake. I- I’ll take it back! Ao-Yurin will be fine if I take it all back.”
He gave little response to Sala’s desperate attempts to undo the damage that had been unknowingly wrought by her own doing. The Monarch of All let out a small sigh as He turned away from the Goddess of Salt, ignoring her begging and desperation of trying to make Ao-Yurin better. Unfurling His hands and spreading them wide, the Monarch of All brought forth the bridge to the Divine Palace only to clasp His hands back together to dissipate the salts that Sala so tried to take back. He turned back to the three but spoke to Sala, his tone becoming more sympathetic.
’Come Sala, it is too late for Ao-Yurin to be saved, but you may speak and lay the Master of the Seas to rest. I know you would have not so brazenly killed a peer, but my judgement was not for your punishment rather for you to give comfort to a flickering soul.’
Too late. The words rattled in Sala’s mind and she struggled to embrace the relief that was her own safety. Anxiously the crystal figure reemerged in the center of her salt cloud, growing from a speck into the same form the Goddess had assumed before. She asked weakly, “They would want to see me? Even when I- After what I’ve done to them?”
The heat serpent shot out to closely orbit and warm the anxious goddess in a quick fly by as she spoke soft words, "I am sure of it, even if only a kind voice of one who truly cares..."
She shot passed again, evidently unable or unwilling to keep close or consistent in her movements.
“They know it was not your fault. Accidents happen, and I’m sure they bear you no ill will.” Voligan reassured Sala, his voice still unintentionally thundering.
Having allowed the other gods to comfort Sala, the Monarch of All extended a hand towards the grieving goddess beckoning her forth to begin the judgement that He had imposed upon her. There were no other words to speak as the others had already spoken and those were all that were necessary in such a time of sadness for Sala. His presence softened, casting away the intimidation and harsh rulership for just a moment as He allowed the goddess the moment.
Sala regarded the Monarch with apprehension, but followed him nonetheless. She turned her attention back to her peers for a moment and managed a fraught goodbye, “My ahm, my thanks to both of you. We’ll meet again. I know we will.”
Without another word, the Monarch and Sala found themselves in the throne room of the Divine Palace, the Jade Throne in all of its resplendent glory towering before them. At the base of the throne, was the form of Ao-Yurin’s form, barely held together with water sloughing off the divine being, though giving a look of acknowledgment to the two as they approached. The watery form of Ao-Yurin seemed to be disintegrating before their very eyes, only held together by the faint will left within the being. Yet, without word, He stepped past the dying god and sat upon the Jade Throne and looked upon Sala. He spoke no words but Sala knew His will as all gods did, even as Ao-Yurin pulled towards the sister-goddess that had caused the very condition that afflicted the god. There was a tense moment of silence within the throne room as the watery form danced weakly around Sala for a scant passing.
“Sister…” Ao-Yurin began with a weak voice, though no words followed for there was not any that could come and none that could truly be said. The Master of the Seas spoke once more sadly, repeating, “Sister.”
Sala’s cloud collapsed in on her crystal form, and she held dead still as Ao-Yurin circled her. She was terrified to even touch her ailing counterpart. Her... Brother. To Sala the Monarch was their creator, their lord, not their father. She’d let Voligan refer to her as his sister, but if there was a one of them she felt that connection with?
It was the one who lay dying before her. Because of her. The one who’d inspired her from the beginning, the one who’d come into being and felt the same absence as her. Who knew what it was to be the aspect of nothing that yet existed. She wasn’t just frozen in place for the Water God’s safety. She was still because she felt like the world was collapsing on her.
At the edge of her awareness within the Monarch’s realm she spotted something curious. Beady eyes and whiskers peered at the assembled divinity from around a doorway. It was alive, but not in the way the plant life that had blanketed Galabr was. Sala saw in it a way around her fear. The Goddess witnessed flesh, and recreated it.
The change began with her arms, and from there the pale naked flesh began to cover her. She’d omitted hair, unlike the creature she had no need for warmth, but kept enough to take on a simpler, less harmful, form before Ao-Yurin. Still herself, but in body salt no longer. Newly dark eyes and Sala’s familiar sharp features regarded the Water God with visible remorse, but that was not all. Sala had adopted her new form in haste. She had not considered, fully, the nature of the creature that had inspired her.
So, without prompting, Sala began to cry. She wiped at the salty tears in confusion and before she knew it she was speaking, apologizing, “Ao-Yurin I- I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never- I’m so sorry. Lord of- Brother. I only wanted the same thing as you. I just wanted what they were given. I didn’t think it would lead to this.”
Her face twisted in guilt and she reached out to Ao-Yurin, pleading, “Is- Is there anything I can do? Please.”
There was a pause before Ao-Yurin’s weak voice responded, a kind tone ringing out, “N-no. Yet, I want you to know, Sala, that you are not at fault. This was an accident and our Lord has beckoned that I make peace in what last moments that I have. I know what you must be feeling, but-“
A tendril of water looked towards the Monarch of All, who nodded in response before Ao-Yurin continued, “I would like for you to watch over the seas.”
“I will,” she answered without hesitation, the tangible reality of a task and duty distracting her from the weight of her feelings. She spoke in that passing clarity, “They’ll be safe. I won’t let any of the others spoil them. The seas will stand forever, you won't be forgotten. Not ever.”
“Thank you,” said Ao-Yurin warmly, looking back to the Monarch.
”You are free to go, Sala.”
The Monarch now stood over them, His arms folded behind His back as the great being loomed over the goddess of salt and seemingly judging her new form as His glowing orbs traced her silhouette. He extended a hand to Sala, beckoning for her to release Ao-Yurin and go back to her duties as a goddess, as all gods must do as His will dictated. A softer voice came through, echoing throughout the throne room making it seem as if His words came from all around the gods.
”I will make sure that Ao-Yurin remains in comfort.
Sala nodded, even now nervous to be under the full gaze of her creator. The Salt Goddess, now custodian of the seas, wiped old tears from her face and nodded to Ao-Yurin before turning to the bridge leading back to the world of Galbar. As much as she wished to apologize another thousand times and beg the Monarch for Ao-Yurin’s sake, she didn’t once look back at the pair as she departed.
There was nothing left for her to do, and if she saw the Water God again? The memory of their thanks would be gone and the reality of their death would be in its place. The reality of her responsibility. Some things were too painful to face, even for a divine.
As soon as Sala had left the Divine Palace, departing across the hallowed bridge that connected Galbar to the divine, the Monarch's hands dropped to His side and allowed the facade of kindness to drop. He made sure that the bridge closed as soon as Sala had left as He stepped back to His throne and looked upon the dying god. There was little else to be done with the water god, deciding to step forth to Ao-Yurin and gaze down upon a confused god that wondered what He was doing in that moment. A clawed hand raised itself from the Monarch of All, striking fear and terror into the water god before a swift thrust burrowed into the watery form, sending particles of water splattering across the throne room. From the water, He plucked a single shard, the very essence of the divine and inspected it to confirm that it had not been damaged.
The Monarch of All looked as Ao-Yurin’s form began to collapse rapidly, the god making sounds akin to someone who was drowning, unable to gasp at the air that surrounded it. A single flick of His wrist sent the water hurtling away from the throne room and swiftly making its way to Galbar’s oceans, sending Ao-Yurin back to the creations that had been made at His own will. Without another word, the Monarch of All turned to His throne and stepped towards it, the water left behind by Ao-Yurin staining the room as He sat and leaned back upon the Jade Throne. He put the shard to the air once more, allowing a moment of silent reflection before He moved to the great wound upon His chest and allowed the shard to return to its true host. Then, He spoke to the remaining water in an expressionless tone.
”Such a pity, Ao-Yurin, to think that Sala believed that she was the one who poisoned you.”
Vigour spent = NONE, NOT ONE VIGOUR FROM NOBODY
Sos here we got Sala being like ‘wow fuck all this rain is washing the salt off this land I helped make, and like lol only a little bit of it is even gonna be properly salty i fucked over myself’ and angsting. Then she speaks with Voligan who is like ‘yoyo, you great’ and that works for her image of herself. Yoli and Voligan discuss creation and then the monarch comes down on his pimped out bridge, telling everyone Sala is a murdering murderer. She is like -holup and freezes. Salt girl starts calling bullshit as Voligan and Yoli defend her, but the Monarch aint buying it. He intimidates the fuck out of Sala, and then tells her she just has to talk to Ao, who she’s apparently poisoned. Best dad of the year making kids cry. SMH. Anyway they go up to the palace and sala promises Ao she’ll keep the ocean safe. Then the Monarch does a TWISTY thing.
Lord Zee
yoshua171