A procession moved towards the grand palace of the Gods. People dressed in deep blue robes wearing porcelain masks walked in muffled, whispered tones. Towards the front, regal, almost ominous figures we clad in the deep sea blues accented with striking yellows and gilded gold, their masks of equal brilliance of geometric simplicity, featuring only eye slits and curved lines of gold, creating an almost half orbit from top to bottom. Along the flanks, more humble appearances were abound, their robes of the same striking blue, but not guilded in gold, their masks of an even simpler design, of a lighter shade of blue. Finally, those who brought up the rear wore more conventional attire, robes of brown and black, their faces shrouded by cloth, unlike their peers. They all walked, however, in no great marching step. It was a roughly organized crowd, and all eyes and ears seemed to be focused on its center. Hovering across the ground, a being of its unique splendor was the center of attention. It floated with graceful elegance, a large white and black cape billowing behind. Golden halos encircled a golden pentakisdodecahedron, which hovered above a metallic body. Occasionally, this "head" would rotate in place, addressing one of the group's members. Voices would never rise above normal levels, and everything was kept to a respectful, muffled whisper. A bizarre sight to those not of this world. Yet, to those who lived in these lands, this was the holy procession of the Anterian Temple, escorting their god to the Grand Feast. [hr] "Great Chronicler, if I am to understand this correctly, the earthquakes of our lands come not from the turbulent winds, but from the ground itself? Wouldn't that mean the movement of such masses would cause untold destruction constantly?" The question came from one of the younger acolytes of the church. Antero's mind processed the information, grasping to recall the human's name. He chastised himself for letting it slip his mana banks. This was his job, for heaven's sake! [color=#1a98c3]"Indeed, Qaed, you pose a natural query to such a conclusion. Indeed, such movement of immense bodies would, but it is not the speed, but the force behind it that causes such events. When one pushes against a cart, they do not do it with great speed but with great force. Now consider this as the mass of land pushes slowly against each other, the energy is released, the resulting release causing such quakes,"[/color] he returned, his manacore cooling after recalling the young human's name. His voice rang out with a hollow, reverberating tone as he vibrated specialized carbon structures to simulate their speech. To the humans, it sounded unnatural, but such was his position that these details now only served to further that ruse. The human nodded slightly, her clothed mask adjusting only slightly as understanding appeared to cross her veiled face. In his millennia of studying humans, he had become quite adept at reading their emotions through their body language. All the more frustrating this damn religion had developed a fetish for wearing hard masks. He quietly thanked fate for having such a younger, more curious mind to ponder this question than the older scholars. Frankly, their attire all unsettled him, but there was a part of him who deeply admired the thought and craftsmanship of the more affluent members. The other humans of the group nodded along, some further discussing the subject amongst themselves. This was Antero's favorite part of the journey and a more welcome tradition to have come out of this feast. While the Palace of the Gods would select the servants for the feast, his temple would hold a raffle. Any member, from a lowly acolyte in training to the eldest of sages, was eligible to have the honor of escorting their god to the palace for the feast. This was a rare opportunity for the members of his temple to directly interact with their god and a truly privileged honor. For Antero, it was important to freshen up on how to socialize again after being isolated in his studies for the rest of his time. He always mused with some joy how quickly the curious minds of his temple would get over their initial reverence and move towards endless discussions, questions, and debates of academia. He became less of a living god at that point and more of an elder schoolmaster. He'd share bits and pieces of his vast wealth of knowledge, and in turn, he'd pick their brains. These members were one part student, one part test subject, and the last part, much-needed feedback machines to help prepare themselves for the gathering. Of course, they never seemed to pick up on this, too overwhelmed and enraptured by the whole experience. Only one among them had any inclination to the contrary. Finally, the procession stopped at the head of the land bridge that connected the Palace of the Gods to the rest of the land. They all respectfully bowed and gave great thanks for the wisdom shared in unison before turning and stepping away, leaving only one to remain. A human male, garbed in the deep blue attire and his porcelain mask, stood with the god, staring at the palace. "It never fails to impress me. The immense amount of engineering it must have taken to combat the surging tides alone must have been a peak to conquer," said the masked man. What amounted to a guffaw came from Antero. [color=#1a98c3]"Vanity. Nothing more." Came Antero's reply.[/color] The wind swept through, and Antero's simulated sensors picked up a large amount of salt on the breeze. The man next to him inhaled deeply and sighed before turning to Antero. "Farewell, old teacher. Until I come to collect you at the end of the festival," he said with a bow, sweeping his arms low. The pentakisdodecahedron rolled, and the man chuckled. He gave his bow, arms sweeping out, before returning with the rest of the group. Antero swept his cloak and began to approach the palace, a rising sense of trepidation filling his mana-cognition systems. The fun part was over. Now came the work. [hr] The gates opened as if gently pushed by the wind as Antero's magics swept them aside. Servants bowed low, and he floated through the courtyard, his grand appearance now on full display. He manipulated the local currents to billow his cape a bit, the crystalline structures of his halo swiftly recycling the surface to shine with a polished gold, his metal core gleaming in the setting sun. Vanity as it may be, Antero's pride could show through in odd ways as he took careful craftsmanship of his form. He billowed past the greeter, barely giving any outward acknowledgement, but already his crystalline lattice network was carving his features into memory. Every year, he memorized the faces of the chosen, another way of keeping a finger on the pulse of humanity. He hovered through the palace to his quarters. Unlike the others, his was a sequestered tower, with no real way to access its top unless one could levitate like he could. Floating to the top floor, he surveyed his surroundings. Many metallic tomes sat neatly and orderly on their respective shelves. Measuring tools and instruments lay across different parts. He generated some wind to blow the accumulated dust from the room and hovered over to his little project. On the right, a carefully assembled globe and on the left, a slab table with a thin sheet of an aluminum-copper alloy. During his previous visits, whenever he had precious time, he busied himself with this little project. Small, in the grand scheme of life and fate, but something he took personal joy in. A map he was slowly creating, based on gathered knowledge, his memories, and calculations he had performed. All was where it should be. He floated back down the tower and proceeded to the galley. His sensory crystals detected that the palace hadn't changed during all this time. Every stone he had scanned any number of times remained in its place. His subroutines of thought immediately started documenting rates of erosion, taking further note of how the sea breeze must be slowly scouring this whole structure and estimating times when structure integrity would be in jeopardy. He let those mana-thought systems run in the background as his main consciousness focused on the ball at hand. Unlike the others who wore masks, he hardly bothered changing his appearance. His age and unique nature had earned him that privilege and he'd be damned if he starting playing dress up any more than he had to. He could barely tolerate taking this form as it was. Antero entered the ballroom with billowing grandeur. His form was on immaculate display as he strode through the great doors. The reflective golden head regarded the fellow gods with curt rotations, and soon turned towards an ever-familiar face. [color=#1a98c3]"Aeliana Elidi, the sun's own. You seek to cause trouble amongst your peers already? We should be spared of such foolishness at least for the first night of reveries, lest you antagonize this ceremony more than it needs to be."[/color] He announced to her as he gracefully floated over. The vibrations had been finally calibrated to something less hurtful to the ear, but maintained their hollow, near-monotone reverb. The head slowly rotated and adjusted, taking in the goddess's experience. [color=#1a98c3]"Perhaps I can buy my fellow guests time then from your distractions. I am not unfamiliar with noble sacrifice, of course. To what foolishness have you gotten up to since our last meeting, oh daughter of the sun?"[/color] Despite his rhetoric, Antero felt his mana core cool slightly. It was always almost nostalgic meeting Aeliana again, in which his core found comfort. [@NekoKyu]