[center][h2]A Casual Conversation[/h2][/center]
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Node 33 was illuminated by the presence of both shimmering snails and a circle of pale luminous trees; as a single sort-of seen structure in what otherwise seemed an endless sea of shadows swirling undulating all around, aside from the lonely goddess who waited closeby for something to occur while carrying a curled up umbral creature in her arms. The light could not banish the truly black shroud that surrounded and enveloped the being she held, as though she were burdened by a sudden gaping abyss in the cosmos that chose the form of a small sphere and wanted to be carried. Though Monica could not comprehend why her children appeared so, why she was compelled to create them this way, she still loved them.

[b][i]“There is no need to be afraid, little one. The shells shall not hurt you, as you are protected by my presence.”[/i][/b] She whispered to the black ball in her arms, bringing it close to her cheeks and snuggling with it. Monica could feel a swell of laughter within her, enough to cause her to slightly smile, as she thought upon the irony of how the harmless snails and their scintillating shells frightened her much more dangerous and violent children into submission like the one she held now. She recalled how often others among the ones she attempted to cuddle within the world she created in the north had shredded her apart with mandibles and fangs, until the Shepherd of Shadows had struck them enough times to get them to behave properly.

There were no visible cycles in this realm, so she could not track the passage of time, though strangely the presence of time was something she feared despite her immortal nature and was glad to get away from it. However, she felt foolish because she could not discern whether she was being too patient or restless by remaining here and awaiting the potential arrival of Xavior, should he choose to heed her weird words. So far, since stabilizing the land and accessing the node; she had eaten a watermelon, paced back and forth, and acquired with the assistance of the shimmering snails another one of her smaller children to play with while she waited. Concern for her once-companions; kind Xavior, beautiful Benea, and all the wondrous humans that traveled with them caused the goddess to contemplate happenings in the world beyond Maelite, and the yearning to go became overwhelming.

Then with the words “ah, so that is how that works” that world came to her.

The node shimmered, and suddenly it and a distant sibling were linked so tightly that the space between them became naught at all. A red skinned hand pressed through the gateway for a moment, and then snatched itself backwards in surprise, rejoining its owner in the divine workshop surrounding node 12.

Then there came a sigh, and finally Xavior stepped through the nexus and across most of the world and was there. The horned god was clad only from the waist down, where he wore sturdy unadorned trousers. Trace amounts of soot marred his features, especially his hands, which were worn from work. Or as worn as a god’s hands could be that is.

The god, who had pushed through with his decision to come before he could prepare or have second thoughts, gasped as he saw what Monica made of her lands up close for the first time. He was transfixed by its strange alien beauty for a few moments, before he ripped his gaze away from the land and turned it to its creator.

“Monica” he said, with tentative weariness and concern both in his tone. His words halted whatever she was doing, seizing her before she slowly lowered the rolled up creature she held in her arms to a section close to the edge of the illuminated ground, proceeding to gently nudge it into the darkness and out of sight with her foot.

[b][i]“So my gracious foe has finally come… It brings me joy to see you. Faith brings us together once more, as the cruel fate of the Crucible leads us apart. Welcome to Maelite wherein sorrow spreads like a bleak blanket over the land. I, um, these trails of light will let you navigate this realm allowing you to reach the two farther nodes that remain unclaimed. They belong to you and Benea.”[/i][/b] Monica intoned, turning her gaze from him to the shimmering snails that left lingering streams of light in their wake. Though she remained impassive throughout her deadpan delivery of ominous prophecy, she struggled to stay composed at the end of her speech, and cradled herself with her arms as she involuntarily shivered even in the warmth provided by the glowing ivory life that resembled trees without leaves.

In response to this Xavior clapped his palms together, held them in front of his mouth as he took a deep breath and then tilted them forwards to point at Monica, who he looked at with a frankly exasperated expression while he asked “Look. First thing’s first. What in the creator’s name is this calling me your enemy and then only doing helpful things… thing. I do not understand it one bit and would appreciate a clarification because it has caused quite enough confusion already”

[b][i]“Dichotomy… I am seeking to understand myself and the world through the contrast offered by comparisons and contradictions. The Ume theory that I must explore, though I have no desire to harm you or others. I am also confused… confused by the puzzle that is the Crucible. Xavior, whatever happens, should the world come to an end, it was never my intention to betray you or Benea. We are enemies, though I cannot explain why, nor did I ever wish to be such. It is suffering.”[/i][/b] She answered sullenly as she gracefully glided around the node, increasing the distance between them, though the stark lack of a horizon line and a visible sky caused some difficulty discerning how far apart they were from each other, she seemed to change size as she floated across the fathomless void that was the background behind her.

Xavior stayed close to the node. Just in case. Just because he was trying to put some of his paranoia down did not mean he’d simply let it all go. Still he was at the moment more confused than threatened and it showed on his expression, his eyebrows scrunched up and his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find a response.

“I suppose that makes two of us” he managed at last, running through her words again in his head and then at last asking “What is the ‘Ume theory’ you said you wished to explore?”

[b][i]“The universe and me theory… where the center and the perimeters can be found between both. This world which shall end unless there is one with will strong enough to prevent the calamity… but what is the difference between one and many when the boundaries between us can be theoretically transcended? Why did our predecessors perish? The divisions that make us enemies, and our alignment that seems to share the same space on the spectrum, or at least resonates… I want to reach either endpoint and embrace it momentarily to cause a change. I have contemplated and chosen death. I will surrender my immortality and slowly spread out my being until the forces holding me together are torn apart, and I am scattered. Forgotten. However the contradictory feelings of wanting to cherish and abandon my yearning to be with my family leaves me further confused. Do you want my death, or do you want my soul?”[/i][/b] She asked after she had repeatedly glanced at him as she spoke, averting her gaze whenever their eyes locked for too long.

Xavior had to take a seat, so he made one, a simple yet comfortable wooden folding chair which he set down on with the backrest facing away from the node. Then he sat down on it and leaned his arms on the backrest as he kept his gaze on her as she spoke. Or at first he did that anyway. By the end of he words he had picked up on her dislike of eye contact and had started looking past her, keeping her in his peripheral vision.

He drummed his fingers on his arm and tried to dissect her words as best he could, and then decided that here and now only the final part mattered “I do not wish for you to die.” he said simply, before going on “I will not force you to live either Monica, it is not my place to do so, but I urge you to cling on. I have seen what death does to those left behind. Have had them beg for me to bring back those whose lives have ended. Wail in anger when they learn I cannot do so. Rage at me for being unable to protect all their lives… call me selfish, but I do not wish to be like them, or at least avoid that anguish for as long as possible”

He knew it would come to that eventually. Mortals were frail, and though the safety of the city he had made had prevented the loss of any close to him, it was only a matter of time. He dreaded that day. But that was, as he said, selfish, and though he had said those things, he did not think it wise nor healthy to use guilt alone to change the goddess’ mind.

“All I can say against it from your perspective is that… Yes, you are suffering, and yes, death will end that. But it will also end everything else. End the chance of things getting better” he said, “The world may seem dark and fruitless to you here and now, and it will end one way or another, most likely after much bloodshed. But that does not mean that there are not things worth living for. That there is no happiness to be found here, even if it is only from simple pleasures.”

Then he stood suddenly, tipping the chair over as he held out a hand to her while saying “Come home with me. We can start again, without fear clouding my judgment. We can walk the gardens together. Discuss our creator’s fall and the nature of the world and the self over a fine meal served with glasses of wine. Enjoy a bath in the hot springs. Wander the markets. Read some books of poetry and philosophy. Pet a goat. Simple things, yes, but I think you should try them before fading away. Those and so much more.”

“At least let me try to show you the little things that make life worth living, that is all I ask”

She closed her eyes as he spoke, silently listening until she heard him rise from his seat. When she slowly opened her eyes, she stared at his hand outstretched, offering acceptance and potential solace. [b][i]“Being with you brings me pain because we hurt each other... When Benea told me to claim that node long ago, I was so afraid. So scared. I thought I was trapped between the sacred and the profane; as a goddess that lacked the unrelenting spirit, the continual devotion and patience our predecessor demanded of us. I am still sundered, seeking to eternally experience the beauty of life, the miracle that it is, and yet fleeing from it with the promise of one final ultimate sacrifice to atone for my sins. You… are never being selfish for wanting to avoid anguish, Xavior.”[/i][/b]

Monica never needed to breathe before, yet she felt herself choking upon everything, struggling to stay sane and awake to see and hear it all. The beauty of Maelite was its profuse suffocating shadows, how it was akin to the awaiting abyssal night that injudiciously swallowed the sinking sky and the lingering lights of the dying stars, blissfully pure and peaceful in its already broken slumbering state. Yet there remained a hesitation to embrace this eternal night, an act of defiance that moved against its allure and instead sought out the memories of a painful past. A proverb: It is always brightest before the night comes, Monica mused to herself as she reluctantly reminisced until she cautiously came closer to Xavior and held his hand. [b][i]“I will come with you… so that we may clash again, I suppose. I did not intend to leave you immediately, there is still much to discover and I wish to bid farewell to my beloved family before I am finally forgotten and fade away. Even if it is a foolish wish, I think.”[/i][/b]

“Then let us be fools” Xavier replied with a sad smile, before he softly drew her back into the light.

[hider=Summary]
Monica has been sitting next to Node 33 for who knows how long waiting for Xavior to link his node to hers with a nexus.

Then, at last, he does. He tries to get straight answers out of her, but instead they end up talking about her Ume theory, in which she joined the small clique of those who worry about what the world was like before the creator failed to remake it, and what it means for the current cycle.

She also informs Xavior that she intends to let herself drift apart and die.

There is (possibly) a lot more nuance, layers and obtuseness to all she has said, in typical Monica fashion.

Xavior tries to talk her out of her own death, first by admitting that he does not want to feel the pain of losing her, and then by inviting her to come home with him, so she can experience the little things that he think’s make life worth living despite the existential doom looming over them and the cruel rules of reality and fate.

Monica takes his hand even as she derides her own desire to do so as foolishness, and then they both return to node 12, together.  

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[hider=Might]
No spend, only talk.

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