[center][h2]A God Dies[/h2][/center] “Woah! Well now wait!” Tael squawked. The crow was flapping haphazardly against the cold cobble of one of Eunomia’s alleyways. They didn’t choose to be here, and his broken wing kept him from escaping. Tael could feel his divine might frazzle, with most of it already expended in the fight. Now all the crow god could do was scramble against the cold stone in the shadows of Eunomia’s buildings, looking up at their assailant. Two eyes as blue as ice stared back down at Tael. Black boots came to a scuffing stop, effectively blocking the only way out, a stone and iron privacy wall wedged behind the crow. Behind the wall, Tael could hear the bustle of the city, the steps of the everyday man or woman and the bleating of goats. On the other side, they could hear everything but on Tael’s side, there was silence. Only the thump of their heart filled Tael’s ears as they stared up at their killer. Garravar was silent, his spear pointing down at the bird. Hate was in Garravar’s eyes, hate that snagged and entranced Tael. What could Tale have possibly ever done to this man to hate him so much. As if dumbfounded, through the pain, Tael asked. “Why?” Tolbog came stabbing down and with a nearly silent thrust, Tael couldn’t hear anything anymore. [hr] Above Monica, the azure sky suddenly clapped a crimson red, if only for a moment. It felt as if lightning had struck and bled the sky. The people of Eunomia froze when it happened, only to shake their heads in wonder as it disappeared as quickly as it came. In minutes, people weren’t sure it even happened at all, some laughing about it while others bit their knuckles in thought. Monica tilted her head with curiosity, staring upwards at the sky briefly before resuming her journey throughout the streets of the bustling city. She studied the reactions of its people, and the many details of her surroundings, from an unobtrusive position upon the rooftops where few would even notice her presence. She silently flew from building to building, exploring more and more Eunomia while she observed its inhabitants performing their daily activities. It was the scent of death that distracted her from her spectating, when she flew over an alleyway and her senses warned of the ominous odor. She stood at the edge of one building, peering down into the alley where she saw a strange sight. “Oa.” She softly called out to the lone figure by the corpse of a familiar crow, before she stepped off the edge and descended downwards. She alighted beside Tael, and kneeled beside the slain god as black tears began to trickle out from her eyes. “May you find peace and joy, wherever you have gone…” She said, then turned her gaze to stare into the eyes of Garravar. “I would move away from the body,” Garravar said, his spear crackling into frozen dust as he freed his hand from it. Looking away he added. “It’s corrupted with the despondency.” “It is beautiful and grotesque. An enigma.” She murmured as she stood and proceeded to introduce herself. “My name is Monica. It is a pleasure to meet you.” “You own 33 and 11,” Garravar recounted before taking a step closer as if to inspect the goddess. “I’m Garravar.” “You own 33 and 11.” Monica repeated, and her voice echoed quietly in the alleyway. “Own? Possess? Numbers? I possess nothing as the embodiment of zero and an aspect of infinity.” She slowly flew closer by conjuring a wind that carried her, reducing the distance between them as well with an inquisitive glitter in her silver eyes stained with stygian tears that continued to trail down her cheeks as she stared at him. Holding out a hand as if to say stop, the Winter god said, “on the contrary, you have stained two nodes with your will. As far as they are concerned, you possess them.” The god cocked his head to the side, giving Monica a long stare. “You don’t know what you’re doing here, do you?” She held up a hand, pulling the sleeve back to reveal it, then extending it outwards. “May I?” She asked, as she gestured towards him. Garravar shook his head. “No.” “Where is here?” Monica inquired, turning her attention to her hand, stretching her fingers and peering at her palm with an impassive look. She brought her hand upwards to her face, close enough to brush her lips with two fingers, and then hummed to herself. “Did Peninal forget to complete you?” Garravar waved a hand, whipping up a cloud of ice around it. It expanded and with the crack of winter freeze, Tolbog appeared back in his hand. He let the but hit the ground and started to turn away. “I fear I am unholy. As an enemy, I ask you, would you help me with my wish? Will you help me make a peaceful world?” Monica asked as she kept close to him. “You remind me of someone I once knew.” Garravar’s voice came. “Speak your mind… plainly.” “I am seeking paradise. Will you accompany me on my journey?” She replied, a surge of insistence resonating in her voice. “I am alone, and yet I am lost in an ocean of life. I am seeking a utopia, I think. It is a theory. A Ume theory.” She added, the lack of emotion and inflexion returning to her tone. Garravar lifted a brow. “Why don’t you just make paradise. The nodes are right there for you, they can create a utopia. Or is there something else on your mind, as scrambled as it seems?” “That which I seek cannot be created unless it is destroyed as well. A terrible cycle of rebirth and death that has imprisoned me. It has imprisoned you as well. You don’t know what you’re doing here, do you?” Monica intoned as she crossed her arms and shook her head back and forth. “You…” she whispered, lost in her thoughts. “I do,” Garravar answered simply. He turned fully to Monica and stood straight, towering over her. “There is no cycle, there is no imprisonment, just your own existentialism. I’ve heard it before, trust me. In your case I’d say Peninal had some final thoughts of Auriel before he died, so I suppose I should apologize on his behalf.” A smile formed on Garravar’s face and he let out a single laugh. “Perhaps there is a cycle for some.” “Yet there is no cycle. Closer and closer. Hmm… Trust you? Do you trust me? There is love and hatred in my heart; a love and hatred for you. The one who is beautiful and grotesque all at once. Shall we betray each other then?” Monica replied. Squinting his eyes Garravar leveled his spear so it stood between them, its serrated point aimed at Monica’s gut. “Would you step forward and impale yourself on Tolbog?” “I cannot. How does one impale that which is impaled? How does one impale itself? Would you stab me with your spear? I am curious where Tolbog and Garravar and Monica go… I see the darkness that awaits ahead, and the light that follows from behind. Pierce me with one and see if I remain zero, is that the question?” Monica moved forward, pressing herself against the tip of the weapon, letting it touch the fabric of attire as it peel back and opened, exposing her belly. “The choice is yours,” Garravar answered, holding the spear still. “Cease the lying. You wield the weapon. The triggering event, the calamity, all of that which came before and all of that which has yet to come. Do you purposely avoid the truth? There is no choice now. Will you help or hinder me in making a peaceful world?” Monica’s wings extended outwards and curved, the pinions reaching towards Garravar. “You don’t even know what peace is.” Tolbog fell from Monica’s stomach. Garravar brought it back to his side. “Ask me again when you have a plan, if you’re still living. The despondency often eats the confused ones, see to it that you aren’t one of them.” Monica mended her robe and sighed. “You are also amusing. Plans. Numbers. Trust. I am confused by the crucible, and the promise of paradise beyond this prison. The paradox poisons my mind, yet I am content. What am I to do with you?” She asked as her head lulled to the side and she faintly smiled. Taking a few steps back, Garravar answered, “I’m sure there are plenty of others asking the same question.” He turned away and continued his walk. “Or maybe not, people are forgetful.” “People… I am not people. Do you wish to be forgotten for eternity? Is that why you flee from me?” Monica asked from above as she soared to the top of the building beside them. “I know when I’m outmatched,” Garravar answered as he stepped out of the alley and onto the streets. Tolbog was gone again and Garravar was walking through the streets with ease, the people giving him a wide berth without even paying much attention to him. He walked with a certain confidence, only pausing a thoughtful look to stare up at Monica and then back down again, shaking his head. “Shall I console myself by believing we flee from each other. The promise of paradise insinuates that we will reach our wishes. An enemy must engage their foe to find conflict and create a peaceful world, yet neither of us… received a key. How frustrating.” Monica muttered, before she flew somewhere else to resume her spectating of Eunomia and its denizens. It was later when she discovered a small cut on her stomach and whispered to herself that perhaps she had enjoyed their conversation more than she had thought. [hider=Summary]Tael, starting to be eaten by the despondency, is put out of his misery by Garravar in the city of Eunomia. Monica spots the murder and comes to investigate. Garravar learns first hand how silly Monica is. It’s a strange conversation and at one point Garravar offers Monica the chance to stab herself on Tolbog. She declines and Garravar shrugs then eventually they part ways, only for Monica to learn that Tolbog did indeed cut her. Some key points of their conversation: Monica asks Garravar to help her build a paradise, its inconclusive Garravar relates Monica to an unfinished Auriel Monica declares Garravar her enemy and tells him he isn’t being her enemy correctly Garravar tells Monica to look out for the despondency, the confused ones tend to fall into it. ALSO! When Tael was killed, the sky flashed a crimson red. Everyone looking at the sky anywhere would have seen it [/hider] [hider=Might]None spent[/hider]