Kyre the Warmonger levitated silently into the void, an air of solitude skulking about wherever he "graced". Vulamera could feel his lonely soul, a desire for companionship like that between soldiers issued forth from his mind, whether he knew of it or otherwise. This one had a heavy moral compass, pointed unwaveringly in the direction of good-for-all. Oh, the poor, poor thing: Shadow of Revelations felt almost sorry for him. Had he been more aware, he would come to the understanding that there is no such achievable goal as the "greater good". It is only a lie fed by army generals to men about to die in a war.

That is one but justification among many for Vulamera's hatred of organized war. A young soldier shouldn't be killing for meager pay, he should be learning while his mind is still fresh; a tactician shouldn't be using his clever mind to plan mass death, he should be putting it to a service of peace. She did not expect a Child God to understand this.

Nonetheless, allies were forever valuable, so Kyre received a message composed of relatively simple words (for Vulamera) and emotional triggers to win his favour: "You, me, we're different. Unique. The other divinities have already started scheming, plotting, influencing all for themselves. But I can feel deep within me that you know the greater good: you know what is evil and how to oppose it. In this, we are one, and will be great friends, on the battlefield or at rest."

---

Vulamera smirked to herself. Slough was indeed a precious gift from Fate, even more potentially useable than Kyre, for she was the most pitifully malleable of the Child Gods... no, wait, "Child God" felt mistaken. This was not a child, nor even an infant, this was a fetus! Falsely protected within its obviously weak eggshell (for Vulamera had already studied its makeup and found it wanting), the Rotten One depended on mercy from those who crowded around like cooing women before a bundled newborn. Although they fed the weak one no milk, but instead sacrificed their own essence.

Ull'Yang, the Shining, drifted to the cocoon, coming to the beckon of Never-Perfect. He seemed so passionate when he gazed into the vine-coated resting place, bringing Vulamera hazy visions ([i]memories?[/i]) of a father lowering his sickly daughter into a crib. [i]How parental.[/i]

He next did something very [b]not[/b]-parental, though when his massive fist came barreling, without warning, into the weak hiding place of this developing Goddess. Something like an internal shriek was ushered out of the Transcendent's Mothers mind, and she almost lunged herself into physical reality, just to hold back this apparent attack on the God of Life.

However, before she could take tangible form, Vulamera realized how utterly foolish she was being. She was acting almost like a Child God herself! It was clear from his body language- the submissive slope of his arms, the caring furrow of his brow, the unaggressive stance of his legs- that Ull'Yang's last intention was violence. As if to confirm her epiphany, the Shining severed his [b]own [/b]arm with brutal efficiency, leaving an entire divine limb for Slough to feast on. 

Vulamera's voice issued forth from nowhere and everywhere, so that all gathered around the egg would hear: "Do you realize what you have done, God of Sun? This is not only a valiant act of kindness, but the [b]first[/b] act of kindness. I, Scribe of Souls, Recorder of the Gods, have taken great note of this. I will build my own library if need be, so that a place in this world will always remember the first sacrifice: Ull'Yang's gift to Slough!"

Not that she meant it. Oh, sure, she would record it; except she only does so because she records all significant events, and she already intended on forming a Divine Library- that much, at least, had been implanted on her at the moment of creation. Her praising words were for the intention of forming early friendships, which are the basis for alliances, which are the basis for power without violence. No actual sentiment was present in her heart.