Thumfatem hummed happily in the afternoon heliopolis. The spring winds were slow and the humidity of the coast was rising, making sweat gleam off his blubbery flesh wherever his parasol couldn’t cover. He watched with beady eyes as the new labor caste of the Grottu piled stone after stone, some smashing harder stones on the softer stones to make them more edge aligned for the project. The grunted in their work and only took breaks to sip at water brought down from the nearby river that marked the boundary of their territory.
Rubbing a whiskered lip, Thumfatem suddenly groaned, “Make sure the base is wide enough to support it as it grows taller.” The Laborers stopped and examined the square base stone altar they had been building. The base was already ten feet by ten and tapered three feet high to a second base of eight by eight.
“How tall?” Lumpagett looked back with confusion.
“Taller than me!” Thumfatem called back, “So our Father Kirron may see our sacrifices when Panganeem returns from the hunt.” He put his hands on his hips, “Quickly now, we mustn’t keep Father Kirron waiting!” The laborers quietly went back to work, some murmuring ‘yes, prophet’ but otherwise continued without much complaint.
“Thumfatem,” Hoshaf piped up from his own spot besides the Prophet, a plump yet attractive Selka woman holding a reed and leaf parasol over his head.
“Erm?”
“Shouldn’t that be good enough?” Hoshaf began, but the prophet was quick to slap a meaty hand over his mouth.
“Chieftain! Don’t say such things. You know nothing can merely be ‘good enough’ for Father Kirron, if that was so,” Thumfatem let out a chuckle and looked to the plump servant caste girl, “Then clearly he wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of handpicking us as the leaders of his favored tribe.” The prophet waved the girl away and leaned in close to Hoshaf.
“Perhaps you are having trouble adjusting, hm?” He whispered, Hoshaf nodding eagerly, “Perhaps you even feel… guilty?” Again Hoshaf nodded. “Well, don’t.” Thumfatem’s mouth turned into a line, “You are the chosen one, and I am your guide. I think you need to better acclimatize to your new role. You do know your new role, don’t you?” Before Hoshaf could make a peep Thumfatem pulled the man in close, “You’re the chieftain,” He droned, “You’re role is to do whatever you wish, take whatever you please. It’s all in Father Kirron’s plan.”
Together their eyes followed a sad looking Antorophu with a wooden bowl of water for the laborers, “Take whatever you want,” Thumfatem smiled wickedly, a small crescent forming on Hoshaf, “You are in charge.”
“I am in charge,” Hoshaf slowly nodded. Suddenly a hollar came from one of those designated as a hunter.
“A winged lady approaches!”
Hoshaf turned in wonder, as did the majority of the laborers. In the distance a white figure brushed through the thickets. Thumfatem seemed less impressed than the others and turned to Hoshaf, “I shall greet her on behalf of the Chieftain, perhaps you can stay here and-” He thought for a moment, “Exercise your new role?”
The Chieftain nodded to the larger man and Thumfatem waddled off to greet the winged stranger, bringing with him several of the hunters he walked by on the way. The walk was slower due to Thumfatem’s physique but in moments they stood before the lady.
“Father Kirron’s blessing on you and this fine day,” Thumfatem gave a blubbery smile, his eyes studying the strange figure of white. She was tall, much too tall, and had one functional wing, with another loosely bound. Her face was blank and warped from what a Selka might expect to be normal, with two horn like protrusions topping her head.
The lady sighed at the sight of the Selka, crossing her arms as her head remained unmoving and appeared as if she were looking past them. “Great, more of you people,” she said before she continued speaking, more to herself than anything, “Vakk seems to have put them everywhere… Wait. Father Kirron? Is that what Vakk is referring to himself around you? That’s not like him.” For a moment she seemed to lose herself in thought before she released a hiss of pain, her hand moving to grip her shoulder. Clearly it was her wing causing her pain, but she refused to look upon it.
“Who are you,” she questioned through grit teeth.
Thumfatem seemed to reel at how Atvav introduced herself before panting, “Vakk? No, no! Nothing by that name. This is the holy land of Grottu, blessed by Father Kirron and put in the hands of,” He tapped his chest, “Yours truly, as high priest and prophet,” He looked over his shoulder, “To advise his own chosen chieftain in the ways of Father Kirron.” The hunters all nodded approvingly, scars from their battle still fresh on their exposed flesh.
“Sounds like a crock of shit,” Atmav said plainly, straightening herself and stretching her arms up. She popped her neck a little before continuing, in a rather paranoid manner, “Vakk is a being of a talk and deception. Could be under another name for all I know.”
Thumfatem seemed troubled by her words and twiddled his thumbs, “No… no,” He grimaced, “You clearly have traveled far and many ways from here, because the only Lord God who owns this tribe is Father Kirron, a God of few words and many strengths. It was by his will we were tossed from the oceans as mere animals and sprouted into beings of worship. Even now we extend our ability in his name and gather the greatest of sacrifices in his honor.” The Prophet smiled, showing off his piscivorian teeth, “Would you like to hear the commandments of Father Kirron?”
“Sacrifices…” Atmav repeated, turning her head away for a moment before she tentatively took a step back from the Prophet. She shook her head, casting away thoughts before she finally turned her head to look upon the Prophet. A small hint of dissatisfaction came across her face, “If it means I get to rest, them fine.”
“Of course!” Thumfatem began to waddle back to the stick village, gesturing for her to follow, “The very first commandment is easy; it is to have fun. We all have fun here, we can’t get enough of it, sounds pretty great, hm?”
“That one I’m familiar with,” Atmav grumbled.
“Next we must work hard, revere Kirron, and show our thanks,” Thumfatem continued, “We can do this by following the commands of his chosen leaders and priests. So long as we trust in his word, we shall never be lead astray and we shall prosper.” The fat selka stopped as they entered the ring of stick huts, where the workers toiled in the center with the construction of the altar, “It was revealed to me that the best way to work and the best way to lead, is with structure; so we have divided ourselves into castes where we feel we will work best! Quite genius of our Father Kirron, hm?” He chuckled to himself, “Such a God.”
Atmav gave a look of disgust at the mention of castes, looking at the ones deemed lower in the caste. Her face morphed into one of anger before she snapped at Thumfatem, “Castes are another means of oppression, slave-driver. What makes you so different from he who makes the altar or he who hunts? The system you use is one of greed.” She looked away from the fat Selka before she nearly doubled over, making stifled sounds of pain as she gripped her shoulder once more.
“Hmm..?” Thumfatem looked over at the woman in pain, “No oppression, and I’m not even sure what a slave-driver is, but we are divided only in what we do for work, what we are best at.” He stopped and looked at her pained expression, “Maybe a little faith in the Lord Kirron would see your pain away.” He paused, “As prophet, I could take your pain away, but then -- perhaps,” He started to chuckle to himself, “instead I should busy myself with moving the stones?”
“I’d rather die than put myself in debt to another god,” Atmav hissed, slowly returning to her normal height, standing imposingly over the others. She cast one more look around before she commented, “You are different that the Selka I had met in the north. They are far more… relaxed and easygoing.”
“With so much work to do, you cannot blame us,” Thumfatem pondered for a moment, “They likely haven't heard the call to worship just yet.” He rubbed his whiskers, “All in good time, yes?” The fat seal waddled away a bit, “Did you say you were staying to rest?”
“I suppose, but the talk of sacrifice makes me nervous,” Atmav admitted, looking at Thumfatem skeptically.
“It is our tribute to Father Kirron, a marker to show him our budding strength” The Prophet let his wide hands rest on his belly, “Nothing to be nervous about, but excited!”
Atmav let out a sigh before nodding her head, giving a singular warning in response, “Very well. Just don’t consider me for sacrifice.”
“Of course not,” Thumfatem seemed almost offended, “Our celebrated hunter, Panganeem, is out collecting our sacrifice. What he brings back is surely to impress Father Kirron and bestow his further blessing upon our tribe.”
“Okay, but I have my doubts that this ‘Father Kirron’ will bless you,” Atmav stated, her voice clearly stating her dissatisfaction with the situation. As such, she seemed to keep a paranoid air around her, constantly shifting her view to keep a watchful gaze upon the Selka who. Between the pain and the paranoia, it was clear that she was not exactly all together, especially with how she had spoken towards Thumfatem.
“Erm,” Thumfatem folded his webbed hands over another, “You've come quite a way and endured much suffering just to continuously berate our beliefs,” He turned to her, “Do you hate us?”
Atmav stopped for a moment, looking at the ground in deep thought at the question that Thumfatem had presented. “I-“ she started before turning away from the Selka with her gaze going into the air as she seemingly thought for more time. “No. I am just skeptical that your people could be so nice while an evil such as Vakk exists,” her voice was slow and hesitant, almost unwilling to share such information. She shook her head before letting out a loud sigh.
“If you were born into a world through sheer pain and torture, you would question any niceties that you’d come across as well,” she continued through a saddened voice.
“Alas, we were born only under the empowering might of Father Kirron and under him we live empowering lives,” Thumfarem gave a toothy smile, “There is no evil here, only faith.”
“And yet when I called to the gods, offering my faith, none came,” she said before turning back to face Thumfarem before she continued, pain filling her voice, “I was thrown here with nothing. The world I knew is gone. I was brought back just to be tortured and forced debt by a being I cannot hard to see.” Atmav took a few steps towards the Selka, her voice breaking as she spoke, “Where was your god when I prayed for help? For guidance? I got nothing!”
She was standing right over him at this point, her breathing stuttered and quickening, “If your god is true then where was he in my time of need?”
“Silence from Father Kirron does not mean he did not hear,” Thumfatem debated, “It just means you have yet to show strength worthy of him. See now, as the Grottu prepare to do so when Panganeem returns.”
“Or perhaps,” Thumfatem doubled over his words, “Perhaps your prayer was answered and guidance is being offered, hm?”
“I-“ Atmav stumbled on her own words and thoughts, before nodding her head in slight agreement. “I suppose you may be right. But why would I be led here? All I have ever done is shown disdain for your kind,” she said, a saddened confusion coming over her voice.
“Ah, Father Kirron is not without his mercy, it seems,” Thumfatem nodded eagerly, “Perhaps there is great use for you in the divine lands of Grottu.” He stopped walking as he approached a stick hut, “Should you stay.”
Atmav stood behind him, silent for a moment before before she took a hesitant step back. “I- I don’t know,” she said before she turned away from the Selka once more. “I don’t want to be a burden,” she said, before her mind trailed elsewhere. “I-“ her breathing quickened again and her hands balled into fists, “No. If this is some sick game by Vakk, I won’t play it,” she said, looking around as she seemed to be filled with fear at the sight of other Selka who stared at her.
Thumfatem seemed to recoil at her outburst, “Erm, no.. No,” he attempted to calm his guest, “This is a tribe of Father Kirron and no other. It is by our own makings under Father Kirron that I extend the invitation.”
“How do I know you are not lying to me? How do I know whether or not you or your god is as great and as merciful as you say?” Atmav snapped, her old pained anger coming across her face as she took another step back. Her head moved around as if her gaze could not find whatever it was she was looking for.
“I suppose,” Thumfatem seemed to ponder the question, “It's all in faith.”
“Stop saying that word!” Atmav finally yelled, her anger and confusion boiling over as it was fueled by the paranoia that plagued her. Her direction of movement changed as she took two long strides towards the Selka as she leaned over him. “Say that word again and I will see how much blood I will have to spill to please your god.”
“You are asking a Prophet to stop saying faith?” Thumfatem faltered for a moment as he flinched. The other Selka turned to the outburst.
The massive hand of the winged one was suddenly on Thumfatem’s throat, lifting him into the air as her grip strengthened. “I told you to not say that word!” Atmav yelled. There was a sudden thump on her broken wing and then another across the side of her face. Rocks. The other Selka were grabbing stones from the builder’s pile and tossing them at her between yells of anger.
The pain that shot from her wing made her release the Prophet who scurried away between gasps of air. Falling to her hands and knees as she let out a pained cry, Atmav raised her head with grit teeth as she growled at Selka. Slowly, despite the pain in her wing, she raised herself up before she caught a stone in her hand and with a roar of anger, Atmav crushed the stone.
All the Selka fell silent. Those throwing hesitated. Atmav's display put a flash of fear across their faces.
A dead moment passed. A mound of water bulged up from beyond the beach. A blurry grey shape breached the surface with a resounding splash, causing the beleaguered selkas in front to stumble out of its way. The head of the shape opened up with two huge black eyes as it flew onto the sand hard enough to make the ground shake beneath the feet of all at witness. A seal many times taller than the largest creature in the scene hoisted itself up on its flippers.
"Yimbo...Yimbo is here!" A lone selka voiced. All the rest raised their arms in and called out in reverence.
The great seal's slit nostrils flared, then it stretched out its head towards Atmav and roared a beastly, deafening roar through rows of dangerous teeth.
Atmav remained undaunted, her own anger flaring as she let out bloodthirsty roar in return, readying herself to be charged at. She gazed upon it for a moment taking a singular step to the side as her undamaged wings spread themselves in a savage attempt to make herself look bigger than she really was.
Yimbo licked its teeth with some consideration. It then hefted its bulk forward as selka scattered left and right. The creature lumbered forward on its belly faster than its size alluded possible. Atmav found herself in the way of a wide red maw launching to grab her.
She launched herself into the air before the teeth snapped shut, using the wings she could to glide over Yimbo as it snapped just out of reach of her feet. Atmav landed behind Yimbo before she herself charged, aiming to subdue it the same way she had subdued the reptile she had fought days ago. Her form was quick, though her attack was as blind and reckless as any other savage creature could manage as she closed the distance. She felt the tailfin slam into her entire left side before she saw it.
Atmav let out a roar of pain, the tailfin disturbing the fragile balance that kept her injured wing in place, only to be worsened as she landed back first in the sand. However, as she quickly got to her feet, she reached her arm and grabbed the dangling wing before ripping it free from her back.
A quick peal of thunderous movements brought Yimbo's head back around to face Atmav where she landed.
“Come on then!” Atmav taunted wielding the end of her wing as one would hold a spear. Yimbo was already picking up speed again. At the last pace, the monstrous guardian dipped its whiskered head low and to one side to butt her towards the ocean. The woman shoved the fragmented end of her wing into its face hard enough to halt Yimbo's momentum entirely. Yimbo barked in shock. The bone fragments slashed pink lines over its forehead as Atmav used her elbow to slam into Yimbo’s snout when the wing did not stick into its head. The impact sent a wave back across the blubber of Yimbo's entire body.
Yimbo waddled back, shaking its head left and right as sheets of blood fell from its huge nostrils. When it let out another roar at Atmav, its eyes were wide enough to see the whites at the back corners, burning with its own fury. It snapped its mouth forward again.
Like with the reptile, Atmav quickly moved the hands to intercept the jaws of the great beast, forcing her to drop her wing to do so. Her hands moved along the rows of teeth, breaking her skin as she forced herself to hold open the jaws of Yimbo with a strength unknown to most men.
And yet, as low, wet growls bubbled up from Yimbo's throat, her arms began to shudder. Its breath stank of rot and salt. Its jaw felt like a mountain weighing her down. As she struggled, pelts of stones once again started from the angry selka, a few heavy sticks thrown in for good measure. Her arms strained to keep the maw of the beast open, her gaze looking for an escape. Suddenly, she thrust her horns up to strike at the roof of Yimbo’s mouth. Her head felt the texture of her horns scraping at raw flesh.
All around her, Yimbo's scream of pain sounded as hot red blood ran down her head and back. The world wrenched up and to the side, and the beach knocked the wind out of her chest as she was thrown from the guardian's mouth.
Yimbo now faced her with blood dripping from its mouth as well as its head and nostrils, but it was no mere jungle reptile. It brought its head high, dipped its entire body forward, and bent up with enough force to launch itself off the beach and into the air.
Atmav felt a chill in the shadow of its midsection. With what little time she could, she got to her feet, attempting to ignore stones that only angered and bruised her more. The woman launched herself to meet Yimbo, her hands digging into the blubber of his underside. With an almighty thud and a cloud of hissing sand, she was silenced.
But Yimbo did not show any relief. First, his midsection arced up through no effort of his own. With great struggle and equally great strength, Atmav pushed the the massive form of Yimbo up to reveal herself. Yimbo let out a panicked roar when it realised and tried to roll away too late. Atmav let out a cry of defiance before she threw the monstrous seal into the crowd of selka.
The selka screamed as the giant seal came crashing down. Bones cracked and blood spurted as a few of the builders and onlooking children were crushed under the weight. Those who had the luck to escape the blow scurried off, yelling wildly. Hoshaf hid behind the altar, only peeking out to watch the scene unfold in horror.
“Is that enough blood for your god?!” Atmav yelled to the survivors, holding her arms open to invite any other challengers forward after her display of might. She breathed in and out, turning in a circle to any survivor who would be brave enough to continue watching, “I will leave! And if any of you follow, I will come back to finish what I started!”
Yimbo twisted to roll off the victims under it. This time its wild eyes twinged in a horrified sadness. It put its body between the selka and Atmav protectively and shouted out at her. Once out breath, its nostrils flared and it roared out again.
Atmav’s only response to Yimbo was a long gaze, before she went to retrieve her wing which had been partially buried in the sand. Her back was turned to Yimbo and the Grottu as she merely stalked away from it all.
One last long, pained shout emptied from Yimbo's throat. Helpless, he turned and nuzzled at the half-buried bodies to find any survivors. A few crumbled bodies flinched to life, but it was clear the damage was done. Hoshaf left his hidey hole and walked up to the scene, a blubbery Thumfatem trailing behind, hand on a reddened throat. Other selka approached, mostly workers, who did so carefully. They committed their movements towards Yimbo and gave the great seal a sobbing thanks and pressed their palms on his thin fur with reverence.
“What have you done,” Thumfatem rasped. Hoshaf recoiled.
“Me?”
“You’re a weak leader, and because of this our people are weak, I see that now,” Thumfatem seemed to choke on his words as he scanned the dead, “Father Kirron had sent her here to show us our weakness, to show us how wrong we are.”
“No- no!” Hoshaf furrowed his brow, “That’s not what happ-”
“You’re weak!” Thumfatem threw a fist to his side in a huff, “You aren’t a leader, and now look. We bury our dead again.”
“I’m trying-”
“Stop trying,” Thumfatem growled, “And do or we are all doomed.”
“I will lead,” Hoshaf growled back, “I will be strong, I will be the strongest.”
“Then do it!” Thumfatem shouted, “Because all I see is a mistake!”
Hoshaf narrowed his eyes, and pointed to a scared worker caste, “You! Get the others and start collecting the bodies.” He looked at Thumfatem defiantly, “Father Kirron will hear our cries during the sacrifice, and he will see how strong I can be.”
Thumfatem huffed, “For our sakes, I hope you’re right. If you’re wrong, it’s probably best you leave before anyone notices.” With little else the prophet stormed off, a vexed look on his face.
Hoshaf watched Thumfatem leave and looked back down. His eyes fell on a young girl, the top of her head broken open by a red stained shard of bone. Her was was one similar to one in shock or perhaps someone drowning. Hoshad squinted, her face looked like Panganeem’s. He pointed to her and shouted at a worker, “Bury her first.”
6 Prestige. She -1 Prestige to perform a feat to hold up Yimbo and throw him into the Selka +1 from Minor Involvement in post +1 from Major involvement in post +1 from collab.
8 Prestige.
Thumfatem is orchestrating the building of an altar for Kirron when he decides to berate Hoshaf for being weak.
A selka by the name of Panganeem is out hunting for the perfect sacrifice for the altar. Atmav shows up and despite his best “Walooloo” Thumfatem only brings her to the brink of conversion before she suddenly snaps and assaults him. The selka respond by pelting her with stones. She releases Thumfatem but then decides to go on a killing spree. Yimbo shows up and they have a tussle. Atmav eventually tosses a heavily bleeding Yimbo into the crowd, killing many innocent men, women and children. This breaks everyone’s heart -- except for Atmav who threatens to come back and finish the job if they follow her. She leaves.
Thumfatem berates Hoshaf for being weak and blames him that they couldn't defend themselves. Hoshaf resolves that he will be strong and he will lead, while Thumfatem is starting to have doubts. Panganeem’s daughter was killed by Atmav.
Like with the reptile, Atmav quickly moved the hands to intercept the jaws of the great beast, forcing her to drop her wing to do so. Her hands moved along the rows of teeth, breaking her skin as she forced herself to hold open the jaws of Yimbo with a strength unknown to most men.
Fateful words in a mysterious language emerged from Yimbo's throat: "Omae wa mo shindeiru…"
”Come my children, today we strike the heart of the Dreamer-God. Today, I do away with the mockery!”
Vakk addressed his children, the echoes, anger blinding him and telling him to go forth and take his vengeance against both the thief and her god. He looked around at the echoes, swirling around him in the depths of his realm, getting put into a frenzy by his words as Vakk began to move through them. His towering form moving through the Realm of Talk before he broke through the cave with a thunderous roar, the echoes following as they erupted into the sky like a blackened plague, sending perched shadow crows aflutter. It was this anger that drove him, and that anger which desired the blood of K’nell and those gods who had looked to make a mockery of him.
He watched as his echoes formed a swirling mass around him, a storm of words and hunger had been opened to the world. Vakk released another roar before he thrust himself into the air to make his way north, over the continents of the Dragon’s Foot and the Kick. The mass behind him blocked out light, a blanket of darkness emanating from his realm like a swarm. Vakk had only one target in sight, K’nell and his pet.
It was not until he reached Tendlepog when he stopped in the air, gazing upon the continent and the Echoes forming a massive wall behind him. Vakk gnashed his teeth as he moved forward tentatively forwards, his echoes following close behind him.
It was then he saw it. The God with one thousand pieces, extending upwards, skeletal arms holding it above the rolling red plains below. It looked directly at Vakk. Underneath it was a large tentacle.
Vakk growled, gnashing his teeth as the Echoes restrained themselves to run down the being in front of them. ”Eurysthenes! How lovely it is to see you,” Vakk said, rather sarcastically before he looked at the tendril, the great mockery that continued to haunt him to the day. The Lord of Talk let out another growl, a few moments of silence passing before he sprung towards Eurysthenes, tooth ready to rip into the skeletal frame as tendrils rushed forwards.
The Echoes, stirred by the commotion, gave chase with their master, determined to grab the soul of the enemy.
Only, Eurysthenes wasn't there. As Vakk passed through the illusion, the tentacle on the ground swung upwards and smacked Vakk in the face with great force before flopping to the ground. No culprit could be seen, but there was no doubt it was Eurysthenes.
Vakk’s anger towards this mildly humiliating grew immensely, the Echoes chittering amongst themselves before Vakk gave them a look that made them instantly grow silent. He loosed a deafening roar, determined to find the one he knew was responsible as he looked around trying to find something that wasn’t there, ”EURYSTHENES!” Vakk slammed his tendrils into the ground of the great sweetgrass plains. Tree-Eaters scattered and cloudlings popped in retreat.
”Enough mind games, Eurysthenes. Face me, coward!”
---
Somewhere nearby, resplendent in the radiant anger, Eurysthenes slipped into action yet again. Its home could not be taken over by Vakk.
---
The Echoes froze on the spot, something clearly wrong. There was a moment of stillness where Vakk was not sure what had happened, or why they had stopped. That's when they scattered, each turning in a separate direction and surging forward, crashing into each other with no care except what they saw. This confused Vakk before he realized what was happening, another effort by Eurysthenes to meddle with his plans.
”Stop, you impotent fools!” Vakk shouted, his voice over moving over the plains and into each Echo. One stopping after another but each being confused, they shook their heads attempting to get Eurysthenes out of their heads. However, their animalistic instincts blinded them, each looking in a different direction as Vakk looked for Eurysthenes along the horizon.
”What is cowardly and a fool? What relies on tricks and deception to hide from my sight? What refuses to show its face out of fear?” Vakk mocked, looking around for Eurysthenes.
”What is just witty enough to convince itself of its own cleverness?” The words rang out, as Eurysthenes rose out of the grass, rushing towards Vakk. Within a second it was close enough that its face was directly in front of Vakk’s, taking up his whole view.
But, on his head he felt two pressures, as if something were standing atop his head. Vakk roared in response, snapping his head forward to try and envelope Eurysthenes while many tendrils shot towards his head in case of trickery. Just as his maw closed, he saw the illusion drop, revealing thousands of teeth. The spines of the toothy creature shredded against the tendrils of the God of Talk, leaving oozing lacerations. Vakk jerked away from Eurysthenes’ trap.
Off to the side of the plains, a great horse suddenly whinnied. The echoes turned away from the God battle in confusion. Charging directly at them was the Warden, his black thorned armor soaking in the evening sun and glistening off him as a bloody red. His mare’s hooves were enveloped in flame, and he held a mighty sword above his head. In an instant, a sea of darkness materialized behind the commander; thousands upon thousands of nightmares appeared, indistinct maws gnashing and unseen claws swinging wildly. With a horrid scream that could shatter a heart, the army of the night slammed into the echo horde. The phantasmal creatures of both armies clawed angrily at each other, and the Warden paved his way through the enemy, leading his army onwards.
Vakk turned as the phantasmal armies clashed, watching them claw and scratch at one another like the savages they were. ”Was this your plan, Eurysthenes? A petty trap? If so, it was poorly executed,” the god of speech laughed as his tendrils began to weave a ball in front of him, a ball of glowing purple energy.
”ellāṁ marikkuṁ!
āruṁ atijīvikkunnilla.
nilaviḷikkān ātmākkaḷ ayaykkuka!”
The sphere of energy was thrown to the air before it expanded rapidly vaporizing Echo and Nightmare alike. The force of it imploding on itself created a sickened cacophony of noise unlike any other. The screams and roars of the implosion left a space dedicated to the two gods before their battle continued in earnest, only to be halted again by a sudden sound.
There was a thundering rumble in the distance that hammered its way through the hordes of echoes with exponentially louder booms. It was preceded by several bright, violent columns and waves of red and blue flame, spitting out infernal tongues that melted away swathes of echoes. The heliopolis dimmed for a moment, but might as well have been shining all the same - for in its light’s path was a magnificent ship of gold and jewels fronted by the snarling head of a dragon, sailing a constantly shifting river in the sky. Upon closer perception, the fiery path it left behind came from great pots raining from the ship’s deck.
There was another dip in Heliopolis’ light as a shadow dove off the ship which proceeded to sail on to bomb the other flank of the echo forces. The shadow quickly took on a crimson colour before it crashed into the centre of the field, carving out a circle in the chaos for himself and letting out a menacing hiss towards Vakk.
“Do you KNOW how much wine I had to sacrifice to pull that off?!” Shengshi roared as his fins became long barbs; his claws extended; and his pupils became reptilian slits.
While Vakk was distracted by Shengshi, Eurysthenes took its chance. Massive bars leaped up, twisting and knotting around Vakk’s tentacles and pulling him down. Weaving together, they formed a puzzleknot that tightened around the tentacles, dragging Vakk towards the ground.
The Lord of Speech roared, pulling in resistance to bars that attempted to drag him into the ground, heaving chunks of rock and soil. ”Shengshi…” Vakk growled before speaking to the Echoes, ”I want every one of you to focus on that whelp! Eurysthenes is mine!” He heaved against the bar lurching forward, pulling more of ground with him as metal and flesh fought each other.
The Echoes, however, seemed to disengage from the fight with the nightmares almost entirely, a massive flood of darkness moving straight towards the river god. Then, magic shot through them, while nothing happened initially, the nightmares soon found that chasing down the Echoes led to two more spawning in one’s place, though significantly weaker than the original and noticeably smaller. It did serve, however, to spawn more fodder and distract the Nightmares as soon the number of Echoes swelled into a torrent, even climbing aboard the ship with gnashing soul-lust. The Warden roared above the crowd, his blade spinning as a scythe before the wheat, making every attempt to connect with the river god.
Shengshi let out a serpentine snarl, his ear flickering as he heard the Warden’s call. He twisted his hand and the ship in the sky turned violently, heading back towards the shore. He flicked his opposite wrist, and part of the river the ship was sailing on broke off into a tributary, which quickly shot down to the snake like a bullet and splashed into his open palm. Shengshi clapped his hands together around the water and pulled them apart, the water sticking together like a length of rope until it formed a long, menacing whip. With a vicious smirk, he picked some gravel off the ground and sprinkled it over the whip - it stuck to it like sand on a Servant’s skin.
“Did I hear a certain maggot call me ‘whelp’?” he hissed and cracked the whip against a few echoes, its blood-curdling sound akin to water striking burning coals. He let out a snarl and began to carve his way through the Echo horde towards the Warden, his whip churning the shadowy figures into dust and paste.
The Warden seemed to rally, his mass of nightmares forming a large arrowhead, with him at the tip as he drove his wedge into the echoes. The lashing licks of Shengshi on the other side of the echo army coupled with the pointed charge finally broke through, opening a pathway for Shengshi to Vakk.
“Your Lordship,” a voice grumbled behind the thorned helmet as The Warden charged beyond the God and into the thick of the battle.
“Ah, the Warden, I presume? Keep up the momentum! I will remove this pest from your lands,” the snake yelled and slithered through the masses towards the colossal worm.
Eurysthenes materialized opposite Vakk, the great beast of a God pushing against the straining bars, threatening to break free. The Lord of Puzzles slipped over and pressed a palm on Vakk, lines coiling over the skin. They began to glow as the pattern completed, which was just when there was a loud crash! and an ear shattering roar. Vakk violently erupted from his prison, dripping with fury.
The Lord of Talk allowed his tendrilsl to surge all around him, slamming into earth or any creature that dared draw near. However, his massive head was faced towards Eurysthenes, speaking in anger and hate, ”I will tear you into more pieces than is possible to count, Eurysthenes!” Vakk lurched forward, his tendrils soon moving to grab at the one who had attempted to imprison them.
There was an icing snap as several of the tendrils were wrapped in stone-spiked water and nearly sawed off with a gruesome spin of a whip. The snake tugged the line back and waved it around playfully. “Oh, my, it certainly feels wonderful to move about again. Sitting aboard that ship for so long really stiffens up the spine, would you not agree?”
Vakk turned his head to look upon the snake before a sinister smile came upon his face, mocking Shengshi, ”You should have stayed hidden, like the wretch you are!” A free tendril, grabbed Eurysthenes and slammed it into the the ground and threw them at Shengshi before Vakk shot all his tendrils after the river god.
The snake’s whip fell apart and the snake tossed his right arm upwards, sending the water towards Eurysthenes like a slowing buffet, Eurysthenes whirred as it attempted to recollect itself. Spotting the tentacles, Shengshi quickly made an effort to dodge, skipping into the air before diving to the ground and snaking his way towards Vakk. He made certain to keep his distance from the tendrils, his reptilian eyes scanning for an opening.
“My, you are a little upset, I can see that.” The snake suddenly stopped and stood up. He snapped his fingers and a cup with a clear liquid popped into his hand.
“How about a drink?”
Vakk did not respond for a moment, before stating, ”A drink would be nice, a drink of blood from you mangled corpse!” His tendrils shivered towards the snake as the massive maw of Vakk opened and went to snap from the other side, an attack from all angles.
“So uncivilised,” he muttered and raised his cup to the incoming god, downing it in a single gulp. He shuddered at the flavour, smacked his lips a little and smirked. As Vakk’s jaws came to snap him in half, the river god clumsily slithered backwards and snatched the tendrils coming at him from behind. He let out a quiet burp as he reinforced the tendrils’ assault with his own divine strength, sending them straight into Vakk’s gaping mouth.
The tendrils were caught in the teeth of Vakk’s maw, before he retreated them in a roar of pain.
The snake let out a cackle. “YEAH! How’ll you fight me (hic!) now, you f-fiend!” he clapped his hands as he made a considerable effort to stand upright.
Vakk’s anger grew unparalleled for a moment, before tendrils rose from the earth around Shengshi, grabbing the snake before slamming him into the ground over and over before a singular tendril wrapped around the snake’s throat bring him to Vakk’s head. ”Like that, imbecile,” the Lord of Talk growled with an evil chuckle before opening his mouth, moving Shengshi closer.
There was a sudden wail. The sky cracked as a black shatter stretched across it, breaking it into two deep scarlet halves. The wail resounded, and twisted until it was the somber cry of a violin. The world seemed to shimmer as the music approached. Echoes and Nightmares alike suddenly slumped, and the world grew still.
K’nell carefully stepped over the sleeping masses as he approached the gods, a phantasmal violin tucked under his chin and a cruel Narzhakian club on his belt. Great blaring notes blasted forth. His eyes narrowed on Vakk and the violin ripped and shredded a sinister song.
The Lord of Speech did not know what to make of it at first, but when his consciousness began to slip, he thrashed about. Vakk shook his head, attempting to resist the effects of the K'nell. He threw Shengshi and let out a singular roar of defiance before succumbing, his mind spilling into sleep. His form collided with the ground, raising dust and debris.
The toss had knocked Shengshi awake and with a snap of K'nells fingers, Eurysthenes dusted itself off and rose. The trio walked menacingly towards the slumbering fiend. The violin vanished and K'nell hefted the club in a single hand. Walking around Vakk's head, he positioned himself by the temple, Shengshi by his side with the reformed flowing whip. Eurysthenes walked to the opposite side, a spear growing from his form.
“... Are you certain that this is warranted?” the snake whispered uncertainly. “This murder will send an echoing message throughout the cosmos. Some maybe see it as a threat to themselves. Perhaps…” He hiccuped quietly. ”Perhaps imprisonment will be good enough?”
”When atrocities are committed, colours revealed, and there is a certainty for a lack of change, our solutions are few. When other solutions are but food, what is a battle?” said Eurysthenes, staring at Vakk. It twitched the spear.
“Still, it's…” The snake brushed some sweat from his brow, “I was hoping we would have had him surrender.”
This One looked directly into Shenghshi’s eyes, and said ”When one which lies promises the like of that, what does it say?”
The snake hissed. “Untruth, is the answer.” He sighed. “Then the choice is made.”
K'nell looked at the other two, “Gentlemen, Vakk still has but one chance left, and then we will know what is to be done; I ask simply that you prepare for the worst. I'll be back with your answer.” With little else K'nell reached forward, pressing a hand against Vakk, and with a sudden flash, everything changed.
He was now standing in a void of white, with only the snarling Vakk before him. K'nell’ grainy voice called out across the endless void, “I see you have made your choice!”
”You are the one who drove me to this. You mocked me, Eurysthenes mocked me. Hermes, that little bitch committed a crime against the gods! You let her go unpunished and justice had to come. You were her accomplice! You caused Li’Kalla’s fall!” Vakk shook his head for a moment, his teeth snapping. ”I want to go home, K’nell. Not to the place the Architect compelled me to create, but to the home he took me from!”
“I'm afraid,” K'nell began, his face dropping at Vakk’s declaration, “That I am incapable of making your choices for you, just as I am incapable of saving you from those same choices. Regardless of desire, I now see that you are truly lost -- perhaps you will find your home at the end of this, perhaps not.”
K'nell turned from the God, “Hear me as I say: The choice was yours.”
”Strike me down and I will return to cast a plague upon you and your toy. Next time, there will be no saving her nor yourself,” Vakk said, before a sinister smile came to his face, ”I cannot wait to see you again, wretch.”
“Next time,” K'nells voice swirled by Vakk, “Should there be one -- I'll do Galbar the favor of skipping this part.”
There was a snap and K'nell blinked. He stood by Vakk's sleeping head once more. Shengshi looked over at him, and the two shared a solemn nod. As gently as he could, the snake willed the stone-toothed water whip to wrap itself around Vakk’s neck, its teeth pulling at the worm’s skin, but not cutting it. K'nell inhaled and gripped the club with two hands. Holding it over his shoulder, his knuckles creaked white. He locked eyes with Shengshi and the two counted in nods: one, two, three. Shengshi flexed, pulling the whip tight. Simultaneously K’nell swung the club with resounding force. Vakk’s neck popped loudly as the whip sunk through his flesh, and the ground shook as the club connected with his skull.
Vakk’s head was ripped forward, slamming into Eurysthenes’ waiting spear, drenching the God in a plume of gore and ichor. Bone shrapnel bounced off the ground and red drizzled briefly from the sky as the three Gods stood there, each staring with wide adrenaline filled eyes. K’nells club clattered to the ground, bits of stringy flesh stuck on its spikes, “It is done.”
“We have murdered a brother - not one we loved, but a brother regardlessh.” Shengshi stifled a hiccup and cleared his throat.
K’nell looked up from the pile of flesh and squinted, “No murder was done here today.” He picked up the club, and as he did the flesh fell off, making it pristine, “But there would have been. There was no remorse, no inkling of conscious; just hate. Something that failed to be reasoned with, something that made a knowing choice.”
He looked at Shengshi, “So we made our own, and did what had to be done.”
The snake let out a raspy sigh, his quills and claws retracting and his pupils dilating. “As the river barrels through tough obstacles, so must the wise be ready to take up arms against those who see no reason.” He shook his head. “Still, a tragic fate, even for the hateful.”
K’nell brought a clean hand to his chin and rubbed it in thought, “There is a lot of truth to your words,” He looked at Eurysthenes and then back at Shengshi, “You’ve had your say, now I will have mine: let’s rest, the day is done.”
“Agreed,” the snake said wearily. “I shall summon over Jiangzhou - it will have refreshments for all who may w--” He paused, his eyes growing misty. “Oh… Pardon, I forgot most of it was tossed overboard. Will juice be satisfactory?”
K’nell pursed his lips, “Quite so,” he snapped his fingers and suddenly the Warden stirred to life, the nightmares rising as well. He turned to then, “Warden, see this place clean and the ill-welcomed guests-” he looked at the sleeping echoes that remained, “See that they exit the premises.”
“My lord,” The Warden turned to rally his army and K’nell turned back to Shengshi and Eurysthenes. The sky had cleared and the popping of curious cloudlings returned. K’nell folded his arms behind his back and motioned a sweeping arm.
“Shall we?”
After the Gods had drank enough, riddled enough, and talked enough, they split ways. Eurysthenes decided to head back to Swahhitteh, while K’nell walked Shengshi to the Dreamer Estate before splitting off to go back to Limbo (but not before returning the club). It was under the purple evening sky that Eurysthenes climbed the Staircase to the Infinite Maze, where it crumbled into a heap, eager for rest.
But this was not going to happen. Not now. There was something telling it that this isn't right. Maybe this was the pallor of the walls, or the way the eyes focused. Or was it the way thoughts flowed?
And so Eurysthenes walked the walls of the Maze, reflecting. Vakk, dead. He'd never meant much to This One, but it couldn't discount that he was gone. The one that had caused so much pain and hate. The one that it had met before any other, when it made a riddle to lock his sphere on that whispering isle.
Or was that what was wrong? Was there a faint whisper, worming into its consciousness like one of Vakk’s tendrils? Stuttering and slowing when focused on, then rolling and rising in the recesses. Soon enough there was no denying it, there were whispers, and they joined together to speak, countless voices speaking as one,
”We exist together now… two corpses in one grave.”
”OWO what’s that?” Vakk said moments before being rammed by a big fucking boat. It was the damndest thing, but -- dare he say-- he liked it. In a purely, non-sexual way of course. But of course, his conscious agreed, it was more of a.. Release if anything. But not a sexual one; I can’t stress that enough. Guild mods don’t hurt us.
”Eurysthenes! How lovely it is to see you,” Vakk said. ”You too bb,”, it winked. And then they kissed.
”I want every gun we have, to fire on that man.” Vakk said upon seeing Shengshi, who only clapped his hands and did the default fortnite dance in response.
Eury
3 MP discounted to 1 with illusions to trick each echo into attacking a separate illusory Eury
1 FP to create this tooth thing. Single beast of meh power.
Vakk
1 MP to summon a ball of energy capable of vaporizing spiritual beings, killing enough Echoes and Nightmares to clear space for Vakk and Eury to fight. [1 MP towards Incantation]
2 FP spent to create subspecies of Echo, the Splitting Echo, who are weaker than traditional Echos, but upon dying are split into two.
2 MP to transfer into Eury’s body
0 MP & 1 FP remaining
K’nell
Nothin’ but using that artifact BB. ♧♧♧
Sheng
Usin’ river manipulation and servants, I swear.
>/list>
Vakk decides the time for revenge is now and descends upon Tendlepog with an army of echoes. He encounters Eurysthenes who lures him to the plains below with tricks and illusions. There the army of echoes are charged by The Warden and his Army of Nightmares. Vakk is displeased and fires off a blast to take out a large enough portion of both armies so as to fight Eury in peace.
They are interrupted again as Shengshi comes swinging in on a boat. Vakk orders his echoes to take care of him, but using a river whip and with the aid of the Warden, Shengshi makes his way to Vakk anyway.
Vakk fights both gods for a brief bit before K’nell appears with a thunderous violin chorus. He puts the battle to bed and slaps some sleep on the scene. Vakk falls asleep and K’nell visits his dream to confront him. Vakk shows he is a ball of anger and nothing good will come from their talk. K’nell leaves after Vakk promises to come back from death and give him and Hermes pain. K’nell says next time there won’t be a talk.
Back in the land of the living K’nell and his allies prepare to kill Vakk.
K’nell fires Vakk, splattering Eurysthenes in gore. They share a dialogue about what they have just done -- then they go drink juice for a while.
They split up. K’nell goes to Limbo, Shengshi goes to the Dreamer estate, and Eury goes home.
On the way home, Eury is suddenly plagued by an unsettling feeling and then hears a terrible voice.
Arya took a few tentative steps forward. Her feet padded across the tile of the palace hallways, until she came to the great door that lead to the throne room. She could hear a gentle piano dance behind the door, accompanied by a single violin and a lone chello. The hallway was just as she remembered it, slightly dusk, with the peripherals blurring as soon as she stopped directly looking at whatever caught her attention. Even still, the mighty door stood guard before her, the only thing separating her from the room ahead.
Like last time, she couldn’t contain her excitement as she neared the doors. She was anxious to be at the palace again, perhaps this time K’nell would teach her how to dance. It would be nice for a change of pace, ever since she ran away from the Jiangzhou, she had felt tense. Anything but relaxed, in fact, the only reason she was dreaming right now was because her body rested safely upon Penelope’s warm back. What better place to dream then in a place of comfort?
Now she stood before the door, taking a deep breath as she rested her hands upon either door. Then with a silent grunt, she pushed it open. The throne room was bouncing with weavers, all twirling as K’nell sat at his piano, floating instruments floating all around him. The song was soft and gentle, more contemplative than energetic. As she entered, the silver eye’d gentleman spun to greet her, his piano still playing without him, phantom fingers running across it.
“Dream and you shall learn,” He smiled, “I see you have taken to my advice, unless- You are here for something different altogether?”
Once again Arya was momentarily overwhelmed with the sights and sounds of the room, so she paused, taking it all in. It was just as she remembered, but different all the same. Wonderous and beautiful. Her eyes fell upon K’nell after a moment, and as he spun around, Arya began to walk over to him, her eyes expressing giddy joy.
The small girl shook her head and said, ”I dream to learn.” her voice oozed with excitement.
K’nell glanced over her for a moment, “Pardon me, but would you prefer a change of outfit, first?”
Arya looked down at herself. She wasn’t wearing anything, nor had she worn anything since her time with Shengshi. She was hardly embarrassed, but perhaps it would be nice to have clothes again, even if it was just a dream. She looked back up at K’nell and said, ”Yes please!”
The God stood up and took a few steps down from his dias, “Follow me, if you will.”
K’nell walked past Arya, arms crossed behind his back, and approached the great door. As he did, it swung open, but did not reveal the usual hallway. Instead there was a great cavernous wardrobe. The room was gilded softly and the walls painted a deep dark red. All along the walls various outfits hung on poles and hooks, each a variation of the next, or completely alien. There were pants, trousers, dresses, skirts, head wrappings, hats, gloves, and boots -- there was anything one could desire to wear and in just about every color, plus a few new ones that would make even Ashalla blush.
“I’ll let you decide,” K’nell said without turning back to Arya, “Just remember you will need to move, so pick something comfortable.”
The Palace of Dreams never ceased to amaze her, at every turn it dazzled with new scenery and sensations. Now the girl stood before a wardrobe beyond anything she could ever have imagined. Shengshi’s numerous wardrobes paled in comparison to this one. She felt so small and again overwhelmed by all the choices. She quickly walked past K’nell, outstretching her arms and giving a small twirl as she laughed. She then looked at K’nell and said, ”This might take a minute.” before the girl reached out and began to look at the first thing she grabbed.
With so many choices, Arya felt as if she could wear a new outfit everyday for the rest of her life, and still have more to spare. There was endless choices, and everything was just so beautiful. She kept trying on outfits after outfits, every piece seemed to be tailored to fit, but none of them seemed to be the right one. She did not know how much time had passed, but dally she did not want to do for so long and Arya could feel the beginnings of frustration. That was until she stumbled upon a dress that made her freeze. Slowly she reached out and grabbed it.
Minutes passed, and then Arya emerged from the wardrobe, taking a step into the throne room, then another. Her outfit, sparkled in the lights. It was a sleeveless dress, with a grecian neckline resting above an illusion, colored like a deep purple nebula. Silver flowers ran like a belt around her waist, and across her chest. The middle of the dress was matte black and fit tight to her body. The length of the dress running from her waist down was loose and had the same purple nebula colorization, which was further enriched with twinkling stars. Her hair was done up in a messy bun, two curly strands of hair came down on either side of her face. She wore nothing on her feet, shoes she found, simply didn’t feel right to someone who could fly.
K’nell let out three soft approving claps, “Excellent choice, my dear.” He snapped his fingers and the door to the wardrobe shut with a bang, leaving the two in the hollow of the ballroom. The weavers glittered as they waited and K’nell took his place atop the dias and at the seat of his gigantic piano. He tapped a key and shimmering ghosts appeared all about the ballroom, each in a fanciful dress or sharp suit. He tapped another, and another and before long the ballroom dipped and bobbed in a soft and slow dance, punctuated by piano and string.
A ghost reminiscent of Arya herself appeared next to the girl. Arya watched the ghosts take shape and begin to dance, a sense of elegance permeated the air. She took a deep breath as nervousness crept into her heart, then the girl exhaled and determination welled up in her eyes. When her own ghost appeared, Arya was surprised it was herself, and she wondered if that was what she actually looked like in that dress. She walked closer to the image, it was now or never.
The ghost took a few dancing steps, then flickered, returning to its original position only to take the same steps. It repeated this a few times, as if goading Arya to copy. A quizzical expression could be seen in her eyes as she watched her ghost take the steps. It wanted her to copy what it did. Clever. So she did, awkwardly and wrong, stepping one too many times before returning to her standing position.
The spectre shook its head and did the steps again, but a tad slower, as if showing each movement with exaggeration. Not one to be discouraged easily, Arya went again, matching the slow pace of the ghost. This time she thought she did it right. The voiceless ghost seemed to cheer and clap before flickering.
Returning to a standing position, the ghost did the same exact steps, just at a regular pace. Arya went again, again matching the regular pace of the ghost. Her mind focused on getting it right. The happy ghost spun in a controlled pace of steps, her movement in tandem with the dress resembling something of a spring flower in bloom. It flickered, and did it again.
“With grace, my dear,” K’nell droned from the piano, “Do not focus on speed, but the rhythm of the music.”
Arya nodded, knowing that K’nell would see even if he wasn’t looking. She took a deep breath, and shut her eyes. With them shut, she exhaled and took another breath, now listening to the music at it wrapped around her like a scarf. It was slow, demanding grace instead of speed, and the rhythm matched, just as K’nell had said. She exhaled and opened her eyes, then repeated what the ghost had done. She didn’t do it right at first, but upon the third try did she finally manage the correct movement.
“And together,” K’nell coaxed, “his fingers restarting the music from the top.”
Arya returned to her standing position and went again, putting what she learned together to match the music. She let her worries fade as the music took over. No longer did she feel so worried and sad, or even happy. She simply became an extension of the rhythm as it weaved through the music of the palace. Her reveries were stopped here and there as she learned new steps and new combinations, her ghost companion dancing alongside her. Eventually she linked the dance together in all its tiny parts and was truly drowned in the endless ocean of the music, only to reemerge as the song finally ended.
Time had passed, how much didn’t matter, not in a dream. K’nell rested his hands in a steeple and turned to Arya, “A successful lesson! Very good, Arya.”
Her heart was beating fast, and her breath was quick, but there was a smile in her eyes as she looked to K’nell and said, ”Thank you, K’nell. That was… Amazing and so much fun. I can’t wait for the next one!”
“Neither can I,” K’nell smiled, “You’re ability to learn is as refreshing as it is impressive. I do advise you practice your steps on the grounds of Galbar as well, however.” He paused and tapped his chin, “I suppose that concludes today, then?”
At this, Arya’s eyes seemed to frown slightly. She had almost forgotten that she was in a dream, it all seemed too distant but there all the same. She began to nod, then said, ”I… What would you do if you did something you regretted?” her soft voice came.
“A number of things, my dear,” K’nell’s voice swirled, “First, I would admit it and own my deed. Second I’d learn from it, and thirdly I’d avoid ever doing such a thing again -- should that be the lesson learned, of course.” He held up a finger, “But, having done this, I shan't allow regret to own my mind nor steer my heart.”
”That eases my mind, thank you.” she said sincerely. She had already done his three steps, it was the last part that troubled her so. It was difficult for her to realize that, but she would try. She had to.
Arya took a deep breath then looked at K’nell with a certain sadness in her eyes, the kind that comes and goes. ”Did you know Orvus was my father?” she asked him, already knowing the answer, but she needed to hear it.
“I do,” K'nell gave her a soft smile, “Would you like to hear about your father?”
”I… I don’t know. I feel as if it would be better if I simply gave up on him. I got so angry and I hurt Master Shengshi and Kalmar. They probably hate me and the only person I can blame is myself, because I have this desire to see him and to talk to him, to know why he cast me out. To know why he didn’t want me. Arya said, letting it all out quickly. Her eyes began to fill up with tears as she asked, ”Why do I feel this way?”
“Let's start at the top, my dear,” K'nell flicked his wrist and a wooden chair erupted from the stone floor, catching Arya with a soft ‘poof’ as she fell into its cushion.
“Firstly,” K'nell folded his hands, “I would not yet give up on your father. Why yes there is a threshold to which it is better to be without, I do not think it has come to that.” He pursed his lips, “Your father is a good man, he just doesn't know it. He is vastly troubled by indecision and conflicting emotion. He has allowed his own regret and emotions to steer his heart in any which direction, but I have seen how true he can be when he applies and I do think that perhaps someday he might see it himself and perhaps see you there as well. I do not ask you to hold your breath or even hope too hard, but to breathe just a little faith and don't give in just yet, in the end, however, the choice is yours as his choice is his.”
She listened to K’nell, her face blank for the first time in the Palace. It was a lot to take in, but she found that it did help. She had not realized K’nell thought that way about her Father. Kalmar didn’t like him at all, even wanted to kill him and for good reason. She shuddered at the thought of Phystene’s screams. But K’nell didn’t see it that way. Perhaps… Perhaps she had been too hasty in her judgement. Maybe there was still hope, small as it might be.
A small smile crept into her eyes, and she said, ”Okay, I think… I think I can do that. I just… I’ll let him come to me. I can’t get angry anymore trying to get to him. And maybe one day, he will, but I won’t get my hopes up. Not yet at least.” she finished softly.
“Very good,” K'nell laced his fingers together, “I will leave the thought with a few words of disclaimer, then. Firstly, this is all up to you how you go about it, and should one way prove better to you than another, you would be the first to know. What I mean to say, dear, is that you should use your full array of emotion and rationale to formulate the best judgement. I see you have already done that, and very good, but just -- stay smart about it, hm?” He paused before speaking again, “Lastly on the topic, when I say good and claim a man to be so, just remember the sobering knowledge that even a good man can do unwelcomed deeds, but what makes them a better man for it is how their conscious recognizes either guilt or ambivalence and if they desire a change or own a possibility.” He paused again, “I'm sorry, dear, this must be a touch confusing.”
”No, I understand somewhat. We all make choices, good or bad, and we have to live with those choices. We act on choices. I’ll be smart, try not to worry too much.” she said playfully.
”Hey! I almost forgot, do you consider Hermes to be your daughter? I’ve never met her, but Kalmar said you were her creator.” Arya shifted in the chair now leaning forward, she placed the hands under her chin and looked to K’nell.
A grainy hum swirled for a moment before a cheshire grin splattered on K'nell's face, “Not quite in the way that you know, my dear.” He nodded, “But should you ever meet her, I feel she has grown to know exactly how to answer your next question.”
”And what question is that?” Arya asked with a knowing smile in her eyes.
“I suppose now you'll have to ask her,” K'nell's smile grew.
”Mhmm.” she hummed, ”I doubt she’s even heard of me, but could you let her know I look forward to meeting her?” she asked innocently.
“I suppose I can,” K'nell agreed.
”That’s good to hear. I’ll try to find her after this… delivery is done. I think i’m going to a sphere soon.” she said.
“A quest if I ever heard one,” K’nell hummed, “Best of luck.”
”A quest…” Arya seemed to purr, ”Yes! I like that. Thank you K’nell, for everything, again. I suppose I should wake up now?” Arya asked.
“Four things before I let you go, my dear,” K’nell held up four fingers. “If you talk to Shengshi directly and with honesty, he may forgive any transgression you could have committed.” He folded his finger down, “The same may be said for Kalmar.” He folded another finger down, “In fact, such honesty may prompt them to give you insight you hadn’t seen on the matter, or maybe their own thoughts that have been mulling about.” He folded another finger, leaving one.
“And finally, my dear,” K’nell gave a cheshire smile, “Just remember,” he punctuated each word, “the choice is yours.”
There was a ringing snap and Arya’s eyes opened. She blinked a couple of times, slowly her senses and awareness coming back. She was still on Penelope, the giant jackalope rested next to a small stream and Split wasn’t far away, doing Split things. She began to get up, but paused when she felt something shift on her lap. She looked down, momentarily confused, but it registered. It was her dress. Arya lifted it up to view it with her eyes, and though it wasn’t as bright or dazzling as in the Palace, she was touched by K’nells gift. Her eyes widened into smiles, it was going to be a good day.
We find Arya inside the Palace of Dreams once again, having arrived to learn how to dance.
Being the Gentleman he is, K’nell asks Arya if she would like to wear clothes, which she happily agrees to. He takes her to a wardrobe that is by far the largest wardrobe she as ever seen, and after much deliberation, she chooses a fitting dress.
She learns how to dance, following a ghost version of herself as it goes over moves. She isn’t good at the beginning and it isn’t until K’nell tells her to feel the rhythm does she finally get it.
She becomes one with the music and lets the dancing wash her worries away for a time. After a lot of dancing, she and K’nell have a long chat about her problems. She finds his answers to be immensely helpful.
K’nell leaves her with four pieces of advice, and when Arya wakes up she is surprised to find that a version of her dress is with her in the real world. She is happy.
K’nell 1mp to 0mp: Transmit dream dress to reality, barring a few restrictions
Arya, The Learner: +5 Prestige Starting +1 For Minor Role +1 For Major Role +1 For Jolly Collaboration = +8 Prestige Ending
Xiaoli had no idea what to do with the last piece of yarn. For a moment, she pondered whether or not it would be enough to knit baby clothes. She blinked. Oh, that was something that she would have to do soon, actually. She hoped the tree eaters would let her… Harvest their wool like last time - though she feared they may not be as oblivious of her presence next time.
She sat on the edge of the bed, wearing her new beige woolen shirt, a yellow skirt with brown embroidery held up by a hemp rope. While it could not even be considered in the same league as her exquisite silk dress, she had attempted to make it as beautiful as she could have with the tools on hand.
It itched a bit, though.
She let out a sigh and put the yarn ball down on the bed before rising to her feet. She stretched her arms over her head and groaned quietly, taking a moment to absorb the dark interior of the bedroom. She looked at the round, wooden-framed paper window over the bed and furrowed her brow. The window didn’t let much light in apart from at dawn - perhaps she would consider adding another one on the opposite side.
She exited the bedroom into a small hallway with two additional slider doors: One which was open and led out, and another which led to a currently empty bedroom. She put her sandals on and jumped out the slider door. There was a slight drop between the entrance and the ground - while she hadn’t experienced much rain here on Tendlepog yet, she’d rather not take any chances. She strolled out on the soon-to-be courtyard and shot a glance to the right.
Their private quarters were on the eastern side of the four-part mansion. The next building that she should make them was the house for the dining hall and the study - naturally placed to the north. She grabbed a few armfulls of sticks and happily strolled over to the marked building site. Stacking the sticks around the rectangular site, she continuously compared the layout to the schematics on the wooden board in the centre of the courtyard.
Nothing less than perfection for her family.
“Xiaoli!” Hermes came trudging in from the treeline, arms full of the strange mountain fruit that grew on the hems of the mushroom trees --to which Hermes decided to name snapfruit. Sprinkled on top of the snapfruit were bunches of shelled walnuts from the forest and a generous handful of sweetgrass.
“Hermes!” Xiaoli said happily. She put down the sticks and turned to see the bounty she had brought along. Her eyes shone and she skipped over. “Oh, Hermes, you shouldn’t have! Need any help carrying those, by the way?”
“I think I got it,” Hermes shifted the weight around, “I had an idea that I wanted to try. See, I like the walnuts and the snapfruit, but they can be a little bitter -- so I was thinking of smooshing up the snapfruit, mixing it with the walnuts and then sweetening it with the grass.” Xiaoli let out an approving hum. “Yeah! Hang on, I’ll…” She grabbed a nearby rock and, with a flash and a ‘poof’, she turned it into a bowl. “Here! Makes the ordeal a little cleaner.” He handed the bowl to Hermes with a smile.
Hermes shuffled it onto the pile and nodded, “Thanks,” She paused, “Mind if I do it out here while you work? I want to watch.”
“Oh! Uh, of course! Don’t know how chatty I’ll be, but feel free.” Xiaoli turned and strolled back to the northern house. She picked up the sticks again and began to stack them upwards into flat walls, though merely two-three sticks tall ones. The building site looked to be roughly 7 metres in width and twice as long, seen from the south, though little could be said about the actual building. Xiaoli placed down a few more sticks, placed her finger on her chin and turned to look at the schematics in the distance.
Hermes shuffled next to Xiaoli and offered the stone bowl without much of a word, inside was a yellowish brown concoction with sprinkles of red and about half already eaten. A small red stained grin hovered on Hermes’ lips as she looked on expectantly.
Xiaoli gave her a wry smile, took the bowl and poked around the mush a bit. “How was it?” she asked as she scooped a fingerful out and inspected it.
The Dreamer swallowed and wiped the red from her mouth, “Little too sweet but I think I’m onto something.”
Xiaoli pursed her lips, shrugged and tasted some. There was a bright twinkle in her eyes for a moment, and then the bowl was suddenly empty. Xiaoli’s bloated cheeks normalised quickly as she swallowed and gave Hermes a wide-eyed look.
“... Sorry,” she said and covered a quiet burp with her palm.
Hermes gave her a knowing look and a happy smile, “Mhm.. now if only the grass grew here as well, I wouldn’t have to go so far.” She nudged Xiaoli, “I think it may be your favorite.”
“... Maybe,” Xiaoli said innocently and looked away as her cheeks reddened. “In that respect, I’m glad my teeth are made of stone.” She gave Hermes a wink. “It seems they’re not all drawbacks after all.”
“I like your teeth,” Hermes defended, “I like all the colors,” She smiled, her own teeth suddenly turning into a motley of mineral colors.
“I’m glad someone does,” she said and leaned over to give Hermes a quick peck on the cheek before standing back up straight and walking over to the schematics. She let out a pensive hum as she shot glances back and forth between the fancy drawings and the stacking project she had going on behind her.
“... More stone, then, I suppose,” she mumbled to herself. She strolled over to the stone pile and started eye-measuring the different rocks and pebbles. She settled on an armful of head-sized stones, though an armful in her case translated to two. She ended up walked about four trips before she was satisfied.
Plopping onto one of the few headstones that remained in the glade, Hermes watched on, “Which building is this one?”
Xiaoli carefully placed a stone in the southwesternmost corner of the rectangle and clapped her hands free of dust. “This is the house where we will have the dining hall and the study. It’ll be the largest building on the mansion grounds save for the walls. I’m still uncertain of the ration of dining hall to study, however… If we divide it in half, we can’t have a slider door in the middle…” She let out a hum and turned to face Hermes. “Hermes, would it annoy you if we had a dining hall flanked by one study on each side?”
“I don’t think so,” Hermes tapped her chin, “But what would we do with two studies?”
“Well, we need rooms for our children to study and learn and read, don’t we? And for you and I to wooork, and for you to read that book His Holiness Abanoc gave you… And to store such books… The list is quite long.” She placed down a stone in the southeasternmost corner. “It’s a very essential room, and with two, one of us can teach while the other works!” she added.
“Hummm,” Hermes thought out loud, “Then I don’t see why not, it’ll be nice to have extra space for learning.” She put her hands on her hips, “And a dining room in the middle?”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking. That way, we can have an open slider door to the courtyard so we can receive great amounts of light while upholding the pleasing aesthetics of a middle-angled view on the rest of the mansion grounds.” She put down a stone in the northeasternmost corner. “You know,” she said and let out a tired ‘phew’, “I think we will do it like that.”
Hermes blinked, “Our children are going to be so smart with a mother like you.” She walked over to the schematics and squinted, “Very smart.”
Xiaoli giggled and walked over to the schematics to view them with Hermes. “Maybe, but you’ll be the one to make them lovable.” She gave her a sideways wink and looked back at the schematics, glancing between them and Hermes’ expression. “Would you like me to explain it to you?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Hermes said, if but a little insecure.
Xiaoli nodded and pointed first to the top of the large standing rectangle that covered the whole mansion grounds on the schematics. “This is north, like on a map. The mansion is surrounded by a wall, which we will call the outer wall - even though there really is only one layer, for the most part. I will likely make that last - we have no immediate need for a wall at the moment, and carrying the stone is heavy work.” She rolled her eyes at the nearby stone pile and pointed then to the southernmost part of the rectangle, a wall which would be 20 metres long according to the schematics.
“This will be the gate to our mansion. The gate itself will be here.” She pointed to a spot on the left side of the southern wall. Then she pointed to a 3 metre thick wall between the southern wall and the courtyard which, according to the schematics would create a walkway between them also roughly three metres wide.
“This is the inner wall - which is also where the kitchens and servants’ quarters will be. The servants’ quarters will take up six tenths of the wall, the kitchens will take three tenths, and the gate to the inner mansion, one tenth. Seems fair, yes?”
“Yes,” Hermes cocked her head, “But I do have a question.”
Xiaoli nodded. “Ask away, dear.”
“Who is going to be the servants?” Hermes looked up at Xiaoli.
Xiaoli raised an eyebrow and let out a curt hum. Then pursed her lips and nodded to herself. “I’m certain His Lordship would gift us some when our children are born,” she said with a smile. “Don’t worry, he’ll help us out with that.”
“Oh,” Hermes nodded, brow still furrowed, “Do you think they like being servants?”
Xiaoli raised an eyebrow again. “Well, why wouldn’t they? It’s what they were made to be.”
“I don’t know,” Hermes looked over Xiaoli, ”I was just asking. This is all sort of-- new to me”
“But then again, most things are,” She said with reluctance and sighed.
Xiaoli put a hand on Hermes’ cheek and smiled. “It’ll come to you in time, my love. Now, as I was saying, they will get twelve steps of width, and considering the wall will be three metres thick, their living quarters will be rather sizable, indeed.” She pointed at the room in question, a 36-square metre rectangular room complemented with six beds and small squares that almost looked like chests.
Hermes narrowed her eyes as she stared, as if she was attempting to suck up the information directly to her head, “Okay, I understand.”
“Perfect. Moving on to the courtyard, I decided that we will have three houses, as tradition dictates - one for us,” she pointed at the easternmost house on the drawing, then at the house with their bedroom just a few metres away. “... One for guests,” she said and pointed to the westernmost house on the drawing, then at the space opposite of the courtyard from their sleeping quarters - the current location of the stone pile. “... And finally, our dining hall and studies,” she said and pointed at the largest rectangle which on the drawing laid parallel to the northern and southern walls. “Oh, wait,” she quickly said and grabbed her piece of charcoal which she had been writing with. She carefully added two lines to the large house, separating it into three parts, two four metre wide rooms flanking one one metre room. “There - and that’s the whole mansion! What do you think?”
“I like it,” Hermes gave Xiaoli a grin, “It’s a lot to take in, but it sounds like it’ll be great. I’m just really excited to be starting a family, and to become a teacher-- and mother of course.”
Xiaoli smiled warmly and wrapped her arms around Hermes squeezing tightly. “Me, too, my love.” She held the hug for a few second before letting go. “Have you given any thought to how our lives will change when they do arrive, actually?”
Seeming to relax into Xiaoli’s hug and then straightening out when it ended, Hermes pondered, “I don’t really know what to expect, to be honest. It’s not like there ever was a baby Dreamer before, let alone a family. I should have consulted Abanoc’s book about it today, but, well, I wasted my daily read on culinary art.”
She crossed her arms, “But if I’ve learned anything from watching the Tree-Eaters, I’m going to have to stay really really close to home for a while and take care of them until they can effectively chase down trees on their own,” She added the last bit with a wink.
Xiaoli nodded in approval. “That’s good, but have you given any thought to how long that may last? Mortals tend to be helpless for quite a while after birth. Then again, maybe Dreamers will be different.” She hummed. Then again, she thought, when Hermes was younger, she wasn’t exactly… She shook her head and smiled.
“I don’t know,” Hermes shrugged, “Tree-Eaters are like that maybe for maybe three hand counts of days, the numbats -- well they have pouches so i don’t think they count, so I figure it can’t be much longer than that.” She bit her finger in thought, “I’ll consult the book tomorrow though, I want to be prepared.”
Xiaoli made a face and furrowed her brow. “It… Just might be a while longer than a few days, dear. Mortals are complex and their minds require time to form. It will likely take years before they can even speak.”
“Years?” Hermes seemed shocked, “To speak?”
Xiaoli nodded. “Most likely. Speaking of, I’ll be teaching them to read Shengshese as early as I can. I’ve planned the syllabus and everything.” She reached for her waistband, only to find that she did not have a waistband anymore, but a length of rope about her waist. She pouted. “Okay, I don’t have it with me, but it’s in the bedroom.”
“That's a good idea,” Hermes agreed, “I could help, I know how to read. Oh! And I could show them all the different things Tendlepog and Swahhitteh have--” She started listing different plants and animals, “--and how to use those utensils we used at Shengshi's feast--” The excited Dreamer continued, “I can show them all the corners of Galbar, teach them everything I learned.”
Xiaoli giggled. “All that and more, my dear, though I certainly hope you plan on bringing along soap so you can wash their clothes while travelling - and their bodies, for that matter.” She folded her arms over her bosom and gave her a wry smile.
Hermes made a face, “Yeah, of course.” She didn't sound very sure, “That's no problem.”
“They probably won’t be able to hunt or gather food on their own for a while, either. I could probably plant a small garden outside the mansion and grow some vegetables, though.” She looked back at the schematics with a curled finger on her chin, grabbed the charcoal and noted down ‘maybe farm’ in the corner.
“Oh, we need an outhouse, too.”
“Outhouse?” Hermes looked up from her feet.
“Yeah, you know…” Xiaoli cleared her throat. “... A place for you to… Relieve yourselves? Though I expect that the children won’t be using it for the first few years.”
“Why not?” Hermes winced.
Xiaoli furrowed her brow and tilted her head to the side. “They likely won’t be able to, dear. Was I perhaps a little unclear earlier? They won’t be very, how to say this, capable to begin with, and part of this lack of capability means that we, as parents, will have to… Clean up after them, to put it that way.” Her wry smile became a straight face with concerned brows.
“For years?” Hermes looked helpless.
“Yes, Hermes,” Xiaoli said somewhat impatiently. “I’m sorry, but the first few -years- of our children’s lives will not be filled with adventuring and the like, but with house work and a lot - a lot of patience.”
Hermes pursed her lips in silence, “I think I'm going to go for a little walk, just,” She paused, “I need to think a bit.”
Xiaoli sighed. “Alright. Be back before bedtime, okay?”
“Of course,” Hermes gave a weak smile and trudged off, deep in thought.
Hermes’ sandaled feet swished through the long red grass of the plains. Mountains were grinding in the distance and newly sired Tree-Eaters were braying to their mothers, causing Hermes to wince. A cloudling emerged from a trip vine flower and buzzed around Hermes with concern.
“Hey Poppler,” Hermes moped, stringing her thumbs under her rope belt Xiaoli had made. Poppler let out a pop and Hermes sighed, kicking a tiny rock hidden next to a clump of grass, “I don’t know, I guess I just don’t feel ready.”
”Zzt.”
“Okay, so I do feel ready, but-- I don’t know,” Hermes shrugged and kept walking.
”Pop.”
“Yeah, I guess,” She looked up and stopped, “It’s just a lot, and sometimes I’m not sure if I really made it that far from where I started. What if I mess this up?”
She turned to the cloudling, a cold knot forming in her chest “If I messed up at the beginning, it was just me who would be hurt. If I mess up now, Xiaoli would be hurt, and in the future -- my own kids would suffer for it.”
”Crackle.”
“I still feel stupid,” Hermes admitted, “I want to be this great teacher but I feel so stupid. Xiaoli knows all these thin-”
”Zzt!”
“I know,” Hermes looked at her feet in guilt, “I shouldn’t be comparing myself, but sometimes it sneaks up on me.”
She sighed, “I can’t imagine doing this with anyone but her, but at the same time I guess I’m a little afraid of being the dumber parent.”
”Pop.”
“Well yeah I could talk to her about it,” Hermes started walking again, “But it’s so silly and insecure and not real, I know this.” Poppler crackled.
“It’s still real and a valid emotion, I get that,” Hermes turned away, “And she’d want to know, but it’s not just the stupid insecurities that are on my mind.”
”Zzt..”
“I’m--” Hermes choked up for a moment, swallowing a little. She looked at Poppler, the little cloudling bobbing to and fro. Hermes gave him a soft somber smile and turned back towards the direction she came from, Poppler zipping by next to her.
Xiaoli placed down the final headstone and wiped her brow. Her expression was flat, if not a little regretful. Had she been too direct, perhaps? All this seemed to obvious to her, everything from the most likely development speed of the children to their most likely needs - but that was of course something Hermes didn’t know. Oh no, she had definitely been too strict and stupidly direct and--
Could she maybe act as if something wasn’t too obvious, she thought as she began to pump her divine essence into one of the the great hall’s four ‘walls’ composed of piles of sticks through one hand and into a headstone through the other. As the sticks almost melted together and grew upwards into a tall, flat wall and the stones along the wall, into pillars, she shook her head.
No, Hermes would realise she was intentionally playing stupid. Then, then maybe she could just work on her tone as she explained things. Okay, well, she was already doing that, she hoped, although it was evidently not working. She moved on to the next wall. As the wall extended upwards along the growing stone pillars, she decided to practice a bit.
“... That’s good, Hermes, though there’s more to it than-...” No, no, that sounds patronising.
“What?” Hermes piped up, having silently walked over and behind Xiaoli.
“Oh, hi, Herme-WAH! Hermes!” Xiaoli nearly jumped out of her skin, large swathes of sand dusting off and falling to the ground. Luckily, the wall had managed to grow properly before-
Xiaoli shot a glance at the wall, which appeared fine, but realised that the stone pillar had grown much too tall.
“N-nothing, dear. Just let me fix this first.” She put her hand on the pillar and watched it shrink down to the same size as the others. She then turned to Hermes.
“Alright. Yeah, hi, how was your walk?” she said innocently.
Hermes seemed to ignore the question and tightly wrapped her arms around Xiaoli, “I’m nervous.”
Xiaoli blinked and was uncertain of what to do for a split second before her arms eventually embraced Hermes back. “Oh, Hermes, my love… That’s entirely understandable…” She placed her chin on Hermes’ shoulder. “You’re embarking on a journey no other mortals in this world have, to my knowledge. I’d be shocked if you weren’t nervous. You want to talk about it?”
“Yeah,” Hermes squeezed, “I think we have a few things we should talk about.”
Xiaoli hummed in agreement. “Let’s sit down. I’ll make us something to drink, okay?” “Sure,” Hermes looked around, letting her arms fall. She discreetly wiped something away from her eye and found a stone to sit on.
Xiaoli went into the bedroom and fetched a teapot she had made some days prior, as well as two cups. She then went down to the creek and filled the pot with water. She didn’t really feel like making a fire right now, so as she walked over to Hermes, she dipped a finger into the water in the pot and used the ripples to instantly cause it to boil. She placed the pot down in the moss in front of Hermes along with the two cups and went into the bedroom again, exiting with a leather bag of tea leaves.
“So, what do you feel the most nervous about?” she said as she sprinkled some flowers into the teapot.
“Well, no,” Hermes said, “I mean, I’ll get to that, but first.” She sighed, “I think I have a lot of insecurities and I don’t want them to ever impact our relationship,” Hermes began, “Sometimes I feel stupid and get frustrated, and I don’t want you to ever think it’s your fault; you’ve been nothing if not patient with me. I mean we come from very two different places, have very different minds, and -- it can be daunting, but I know you’re always just trying to help and I never find myself not appreciating that.” She pursed her lips, “I guess what I’m saying is I appreciate all you do, and I just have a few insecurities I’m working through.” There was an approving pop from Hermes’ hair.
Xiaoli froze for a moment before carefully placing the lid on top of the teapot. “I see,” she said curtly. “I was actually thinking about this just before you came back. I-... I know I can be a bit patronising, at times, and I-...” She paused for a moment and stirred the teapot around as if searching for a distraction. “In truth, Hermes, I struggle, occasionally, with knowing what to say and what, well, not to say - as you mentioned, we are from completely different worlds and, in truth, I do not really… Understand mortality yet. So many things are so obvious to me, except for what actually should be quite obvious, like the fact that you-...” She paused, followed be a faint snicker. “See? I’m doing it again - looking for words so I won’t sound like such a know-it-all.”
“You shouldn’t have to tip-toe around me,” Hermes sighed, “We are going to be parents together, we could already be parents together for all we know. Just speak, and I’ll learn to control my insecurities.”
“Well, maybe you could at the very least tell me when you feel like I’m being a bit too much? As it stands, I don’t really know when I cross that line - your face is an indicator sometimes, but if you could tell me, I could try to improve myself. Does that should alright?” She poured some tea in both their cups.
“I can do that,” Hermes gave a soft smile, a curious Poppler emerging in search of something sweet to bump into. Hermes sipped at her tea, “Am I ever too much?”
“Too much?” Xiaoli pursed her lips and slurped her tea as she shot an upwards glance. “No, you’re fine… You might be a bit…” She paused, but then quickly opened her mouth again. “Oh curses, I did it again!” She took a deep breath. “You might be a bit too direct towards the Exalted Creators, in my view,” she said as if the words felt poisonous.
Hermes sipped loudly, then slowly put the cup down, “I guess I did ask,” She rubbed her face, “So, Xiaoli.” She looked at her partner carefully, “Don’t get upset with me -- but.” She turned her head and bit the inside of her cheek, “Hm.”
“What? What?!” she said, her brow furrowing and her lips straightening.
Hermes scooted off the rock and close to Xiaoli, as if sharing a secret, “Not all of the Exalted Creators are creators, and -- I respect and cherish and hold the Gods who have far above me, and my children will be praying their thanks to them, but not just because they are Gods, but because they are our Gods who have entered this relationship of God and Mortal. Shengshi, K’nell, Arae, and others, I can call them God and mean it with every fiber of my body because I not only know that they are divine but that they are what it is to be a God as well, and they have treated me and mortals with equal respect -- but I can’t in my blank-starting mind force myself to pray to a divine who has done nothing but acquired the means and will to squash me at their earliest convenience. So I am careful to who I give the title God to, and those who are Gods are the Exalted Creators, but those who are just Exalted above mortality, I don’t know what to think of them.” Hermes paused, “I’m sorry if this seems like a lot.”
Xiaoli’s face had lost all colour. Her lip was quivering, as was the hand holding her teacup. Her empty eyes fell to her lap and she put her teacup down on the ground. “O-oh…” she said faintly.
“Xiaoli?” Hermes face turned to one of worry.
“H-Hermes, you… You shouldn’t say such things,” she finally said. “It’s… Ungrateful.” She looked to the side, tears beginning to well up in her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Hermes brow furrowed apologetically, her hand snaking towards Xiaoli’s “Maybe I was too direct-- again.”
Xiaoli wiped her eyes with one of her sleeves and took Hermes’ hand in her free one. “Do you know why I act as I do the Exalted Creators?” she said and sniffed.
“No,” Hermes admitted, concern stretched clear across her visage, “Tell me?”
“It’s a concept in the teachings of the Flow - one called filial piety. It stresses loyalty to one’s elders and masters above all else, with the expectation that the relationship will be respectful from both sides. It combines with His Lordship’s dream of harmony, where if every servant acted with complete loyalty to its master, and every master showed great respect for its servants - there would be no conflict. It’s not a perfect concept, but it is one I believe in. If one treats others with the respect they deserve, they will hopefully be inclined to return the respect, at least to a degree.” She snickered faintly. “Saying it out loud makes it sound awfully idealistic, right?”
Hermes squeezed Xiaoli’s hand, “In better words, I think you said what I was trying to say, except maybe I took it a little farther to those masters who don’t respect their servants. It is idealistic, but it’s also beautiful-”
“No, it’s more than that,” Xiaoli suddenly said. “If one part chooses not to return the respect, that still does not legitimise disrespect from both parts - a servant is loyal to a foul lord, a great master is respectful to a poor servant. Likewise, we should respect all gods, regardless of the horrors they commit, because…” She looked Hermes in the eyes. “They are our masters.”
Hermes let out a puff of air, “Even if they never portray a single quality of a master?”
Xiaoli nodded solemnly. “Loyalty above all - even to the worst of scum,” she said quietly.
It was Hermes turn to look shocked, “But,” She racked her brain, “What does that accomplish? What if giving in to the worst causes more bad things, what if it causes me to hurt, or you, or our children?”
Xiaoli’s eyes welled up again and she pulled her knees to her chest. “I… I don’t know…” She let out a few hacking whimpers and planted her forehead on her kneecaps, Hermes hand found her back and rubbed in circles. “... Somewhere along the line, it-...” She sniffed. “... It’s supposed to lead to harmony, but…” She raised her head and gave Hermes a weary look with red-ringed eyes.
“Now I don’t know anymore… Eurysthenes’ reaction, my master’s actions in front of Kalmar, your words… It’s all so-...” She turned back and grabbed the sides of her head with her hands. “confusing!”
Hermes let her hand fall and sighed, “I know how you feel-- We’ll figure it out, together. The world is young, it would be a little strange if one of us had all the answers.”
Xiaoli sniffed again and let her head fall back. As she stared skywards, she let out a single ‘hah’. “A mortal and an avatar starting a family together… Had His Lordship told me about this upon my conception, I would have thought him insane.”
She took a deep breath. “I am certain of one thing, though.” She reached out to take Hermes’ hand.
“You have my loyalty forever, Hermes.”
Hermes took her hand and held it close to her heart, “You have my loyalty, and more.”
Xiaoli smiled and leaned it to peck her on the cheek. “Thank you…” she whispered.
So basically what happens is Xiaoli is working on the mansion and then Hermes pops up with breakfast -- a concoction she devised that is basically banana walnut oatmeal. It’s basically crack to Xiaoli and she devours it.
Anyway, they get to talking about the plans for the building and it gets a little confusing for Hermes, but for us, now we know what everything looks like. So, Hermes is feeling a little insecure about not knowing things again and then the babies are brought up and it’s revealed that Hermes doesn't know too much about babies, let alone what they need. Xiaoli gets a tad impatient with Hermes and the Dreamer excuses herself to mull over her insecurities.
She goes on a walk with Poppler and works through her thoughts before returning to Xiaoli. They decide it is best they talk about their issues together and they finally discuss Hermes insecurity and Xiaoli’s know-it-all attitude. They agree on working it all out together and things are looking fine until they bring up Hermes’ flippant regard to some of the Gods. Hermes defends herself, stating that not all Divines are Gods or worthy of praise and basically she has been around since creation and noticed that only some of the Gods give a damn while others just want to be sucked off because they can make explosions without actually doing anything. This upsets Xiaoli (making Hermes feel bad) and she whips out some “The Flow” shit.
Hermes originally agrees with Xiaoli’s assessment until she says that even horrible Gods should be respected and shown loyalty. Hermes pushes back and presents some troublesome scenarios to which Xiaoli isn’t sure the answer to. She cries. Hermes feels bad. They comfort each other and in the end they agree that together they will figure out this wacky world they live in and will always be there for each other.
The trio fell into a rhythm. Xiaoli spent her day making a wardrobe for herself and Hermes, while the Dreamer kept working on her martial art, even going so far as to bug Xiaoli for paper she had pressed from the local trees so that she could attempt to draw the formations she was practicing. Poppler would buzz in and out at leisure, living his secret life from the prying eyes of the duo. The day came to a close as quickly as it started, and night flew by just as quick.
Hermes was the first to retire to the bedroom, but not before a dip in the brook, which she did with concerned privacy. She happily slipped into the new cloths Xiaoli had made specifically for sleep and disappeared into the room and under the sheets. Xiaoli spent a few more hours by herself, taking in the sensations of Tendlepog and occasionally being accompanied by Poppler. Finally, she too decided to sleep, slipping in next to Hermes. Hours passed, and the insects of Tendlepog buzzed their early morning songs, calling forth a humid day.
Xiaoli’s gentle snore turned into a sudden snort, causing Hermes’ eyes to snap open. She blinked and leaned up on her elbow to look at her partner with tired eyes. Xiaoli smacked her lips and turned to her side, still very much asleep. Hermes rubbed an eye and let herself fall back onto the bed with a whoosh of air puffing from her pillows. The Dreamer groaned for a while, whining to herself before rolling onto her side, face looking down from the bed.
“Better be dreaming,” She muttered as she reached down and snatched her book from her bag (which she had kept much closer to the bed this time). Falling back onto her pillows she shimmied her shoulders down until she was nearly engulfed in the blankets, using the spine of the book to keep the blanket off her face as she stared upwards at the empty pages.
Slowly Hermes eyes widened as she stared at the pages. She froze, her eyes scanning the blank book over and over, pages flipping every now and again. Her eyes began to dry as she stared, until all at once she had fallen completely still, stuck in a trance of some sort. Her eyes remained glued, and a frown stretched across her face.
With a low, drawn-out groan, Xiaoli stirred from her sleep and let out a “hmmph?” at the rocking movements in bed.
“What time is it?” she muttered partially into the pillow.
The book closed, “We never defined times,” Hermes said in a defeated voice, pulling what she remembered from a previous stint through the book, “but it is morning.”
Xiaoli rolled over to face Hermes and furrowed her brow. “Oh, dear, not having defined time is nothing to be upset about. It’ll happen eventually!” She gave a smile and moved her hand over to caress Hermes’ closest cheek.
Hermes leaned her head into the palm of Xiaoli’s hand but didn’t smile, “It’s not that.” Xiaoli’s smile faded and her expression grew grave. “What? What is it? Did something happen?”
“Look,” Hermes opened the book to a nondescript blank page and showed Xiaoli. The Dreamer seemed to shrink as she presented it.
Xiaoli raised an eyebrow and sighed. “Hermes, my love, the page is blank. Did it stop working, is that why you’re upset?”
Hermes flicked the book back to her and scanned the empty page and groaned, slapping the book shut and letting it slip back into her bag, “No.” She sat up, “I was reading about-- well, being a mother.”
“Ooooh… Yeah, children do tend to be a little messy in the beginning, but--” Xiaoli scanned her look again and her face paled. “Oh… You were reading about pregnancy, weren’t you?”
“Uh,” Hermes face strained, “There seems to be a detail that Kalmar had left out.” She sighed, “I need another Dreamer to make… Dreamers, but I’m the only Dreamer.”
Xiaoli’s face lost whatever colour was left and her eyes emptied of joy. “... Oh…” was all she could muster for a moment as her head slowly keeled forward. She clutched her left arm with her right, now staring into her lap. Then, after a long pause, she looked back up, newfound colour entering her eyes and spreading outwards around the face.
“That may not be a problem,” she said with a pensive look. She put a finger on her chin and, almost reluctantly so, said: “We… Could pray to one of the Exalted Creators to make you a…” She rolled the words around in her mouth as if they were poison. “... A reproductive partner…”
“I… uh,” Hermes’ pang of anxiety turned to embarrassment, “Well, a few things.” She protested, putting a hand on Xiaoli’s arm, “I- I saw what that would be like.” She shook her head, “I don’t want that… besides… the Dreamers are my creation, and I want to be able to create them with someone whom I choose.”
“Oh, thank the Crea-! I mean…” Xiaoli cleared her throat and cast her arms around Hermes’ neck and pulled her in for a tight hug. “That’s beautiful, my love, but I can’t… You know…” She cleared her throat yet again and patted Hermes’ stomach.
“I don’t have the… Necessary assets.”
“I know,” Hermes brow slanted, “-Wait.”
She cocked her head and scooted close, eliciting a slight recoil from Xiaoli, “Did you-” Hermes mulled over on her words, “Are you saying you want to help create the dreamers.” She shook her head, “Like, you know, really help -- as in -- be a parent?”
Xiaoli blinked and blushed. “W-w-well, I thought that was obvious! I want to be with you, Hermes, and I want to be there when your children are born, and see them grow to be as beautiful in both body and soul as their mother.” She leaned in and pecked her on the cheek.
Hermes smiled with a glowing contentment before suddenly shouting a little loud, “What about Arae!?”
Xiaoli blinked and recoiled slightly again. “What about Her Holiness Ara--” Her eyes widened along with her smile. “Hermes, you are a genius.”
“Yeah!” Hermes all but hopped out of bed, “We are going to do this!”
Xiaoli hopped after, skipping around next to Hermes like a firecracker. “We’re going to be mothers!” she exclaimed, her arms shooting up into the air.
After a few hops, she calmed down and pointed at Hermes. “Pack your things, Hermes! We are leaving immediately!”
Hermes swung her bag over her woolen shirt and quickly slipped on her sandals, “We shouldn’t be long, after all.”
Xiaoli let out a hum. “... Alternatively, we could try prayer. According to His Lordship, prayer should be the most convenient way for mortals to contact the gods. Maybe, just maybe…”
Xiaoli stormed out the house without hearing Hermes’ opinion on the matter. She began to grab rocks and sticks from the mansion’s building material pile and put them by the forest border at the southeastern edge of the clearing. Clapping her hands together, the stones began to fuse into a single large rock, which she pushed into an upright position. Then, she arranged the sticks in a roughly circular manner before pointing her finger at them. The sticks began to sprout smaller branches as if they were alive. The branches arranged themselves into the symbol of the Dragon Mother - at least as well as she remembered it from the carpet in Arae’s room aboard Jiangzhou. Once the symbol was complete, she stuck it to the stone, shuffled a few paces back and prostrated herself before the stone.
“Oh, most blessed and kind of all the gods, Your Holiness Arae - the Dragon Mother. Please take a minute to hear this humble one’s prayer…” Xiaoli paused to take a deep breath. “My love and I have travelled far and struggled much to achieve fertility for her, only to realise that our plan was flawed from the beginning. We are incapable of creating a family as we are - therefore, we beseech Your Holiest of beings with utmost humility to answer our prayers so that we may bring our children into this world.” She looked up at the shrine. “Thank you,” she said and bowed her head again.
“This raises a lot of questions,” Arae spoke to them telepathically.
Xiaoli nearly jumped to her feet, but quickly realised what was going on. “Y-your Holiness! Forgive this servant’s insolence in contacting You like this, but… Well, the matter is dire. Whatever questions Your Holiness may have, these servants will gladly answer.” Xiaoli blinked over at Hermes who had wandered out as if to see if she, too, was receiving the mental messages. Her wide eyes seemed to verify.
“The first I shall ask is perhaps the most important: How does Hermes intend to get pregnant? How do you wish for all of this to happen? You two already know there are no others of Hermes’ species, and you, Xiaoli, are, well, of the same gender.”
“Arae,” Hermes knelt down by the stone, “My mind is yours for you to peer into, that is where my desire is held.”
A peer into Hermes’ mind, and the truth was clear to Arae. “I see…” Arae said. “Your love for each other is strong. While this is rather unorthodox, I shall grant you your wish.” Xiaoli then began to feel a warm sensation wash over her. This lasted only for a few seconds before fading away. “Now then, do try not to have too much fun,” Arae said mischievously. Soon after she said this, her presence from their minds vanished, leaving the two of them in peace. Xiaoli blinked.
Hermes blinked back and looked at Xiaoli, “Is it done?”
Xiaoli let her hands pat her body a little and she looked at Hermes. She clutched her head. “Well, that was a strange sensation. I don’t even know if anything’s different about me - w-well, I mean, it should be, but...” She looked down at her hands.
Hermes copied Xiaoli's hum and took her hands, squeezing them gently. Xiaoli looked up and smiled weakly at Hermes. “... I guess we can find out?”
Xiaoli wakes Hermes up once again and once again she delves into the knowledge of Abanoc. There she learns a vital piece of the reproductive puzzle and decides she needs another dreamer, but when pressed about getting one, she declines.
Instead the duo pray to Arae for an alternative, which is then granted by the God of Families, like a G.
Also to note, they made the first altar to a god, and it isn’t even to K’nell or Shengshi, talk about ungrateful.
Prestige and might: Hermes jumped from 12 to 15 prestige Arae spent 2mp on making the Dreamer Race
Viyoh sat on a small jut of rock overlooking the sandy beach, his friend Hoshaf beside him. The cool sea air kept their noses turnt up and salty, and their eyes stared forever forwards in contemplation. It had been seemingly forever since Kirron had thrown them into their new lives, and many of their kin had separated and spread across the lands as isolated groups, but here the first and the third sat in silence.
Peeling his eyes away from the horizon long enough to stare at the glimmering clumps of quartz and granite at his feet, Viyoh finally spoke, “They say some of the other groups are putting forth leaders, now that the celebration has ended.”
“Oh?” Hoshaf looked to his friend, “What for?”
“I don’t know,” Viyoh answered, “But it looks like Thumfatem and his supporters is going to get his wish, we will have a chief.”
“Oh.” Hoshaf looked at the ground. There was a pause, and only the crashing waves filled the air. Hoshaf looked back to the horizon, “I bet Antorophu would liken to whoever is chief.”
Viyoh perked up at the name of the second, “Antorophu?”
“Yeah,” Hoshaf seemed to stare with a longing, “I was going to ask her, if she would like to be my… well.” The Selka looked around bashfully.
“I-” Viyoh made a face, “I don’t think you should.”
Hoshaf looked up, “Why?”
“She,” Viyoh began, careful with his words, “She has already taken a liken to me, and I with her.”
“What?” Hoshaf looked defeated, his eyes brimming with hurt, “When, why?”
“Don’t ask such questions,” Viyoh hissed back, “Friends don’t ask such questions.”
“Friends don’t steal the others likings!” Hoshaf rose to his feet in anger.
Viyoh stood up, rising taller than Hoshaf, “And the smart should know when they are not likened and just be happy for their friends.”
Hoshaf huffed hot air, his eyes narrowing, “You are no friend.”
Viyoh snorted loudly, “I have done nothing if not helped you since you found your God given feet!” “And you steal the ground from under me,” Hoshaf gnashed his teeth, “You do not care.”
“Oh!” Viyoh threw his hands in the air, “I do not care, I suppose you’re right, then! Forget my deeds and focus on the time I decide to look out for my own likens.”
He spun and pointed a finger at Hoshaf, “Maybe I shouldn’t stop there, then, if I’m so evil.”
Hoshaff grunted angrily and Viyoh continued, “Yes, you know, I will be chief now that I think of it.”
Hoshaff gritted his teeth but Viyoh kept spouting, “The biggest chief, I am the biggest after all. It makes sense, who else, you? Bah, I am the biggest, the first, and I have the love of-”
Crack!
A large ragged quartz stone smashed into Viyoh’s face. Blood burst from the impact and the larger Selka collapsed to the ground where he laid still. Hoshaf breathed heavily above the body, his face reddened with fury and the white stone stained crimson in his hand. He stood there for seconds and then minutes, until his face paled, “Viyoh?”
There was no response. Hoshaf dropped the rock and fell to his knees, “Viyoh?” He shook the body, getting nothing but a limp corpse in reaction, “Viyoh!” He cried, “Viyoh, please!”
“No, no, no,” He sobbed as he held the dead Selka’s smashed face in his lap, “Oh no, no please.”
“Viyoh!”
“Hoshaf!” A voice called from the thickets, “Hoshaf?”
Horshaf froze, his body trembling and his head light, “Thumfatem?”
A fat bellied Selka emerged from the thickets and into the rubble of the beach, stopping as his eyes soaked in the sight, “What has happened?”
Horhaf broke into a heavy sob, his tears mixing with the blood in the sand. Thumfatem cocked his head, and walked closer to the scene a hand over his own heart, “Hoshaf, what did you do?”
The smaller Selka continued to cry and Thumfatem squatted to examine the quartz stone covered in bits of skin, “Horshaf?”
“He’s dead!” Hoshaf finally called out, his voice turning into a whimper, “I killed him.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t mean to.”
“But why did you do it.”
“I don’t know.” Hoshaf rolled over in the sand, curling up into a ball. Thumfatem sat down next to the smaller Selka and tucked a hand under his chin. The calm Selka seemed to not be phased by the gruesome sight before him, not even when a few black flies found a new home on Viyoh’s split snout.
“It was the will of God,” Thumfatem finally said, causing the sobbing to stop. Hoshaf looked up from his spot, eyes stained red,
“What?”
“It could be nothing else,” Thumfatem explained, “Viyoh opposed a leadership, and yet earlier today I heard others murmuring that he become chief. He was not strong enough to be a true leader, he was not what we needed, and so through you God had struck him down before the damage could be done.”
“It’s the only reason,” Thumfatem eased Hoshaf, “You shall be the chieftain, and I will be your advisor.”
“What?” Hoshaf now sat up in disbelief.
“Don’t think too hard,” Thumfatem explained, “Clearly God had sent me to you after he had used you for holy righteousness so that I could be your guide, your prophet. You will be the chief, and I will translate the workings of our God so you may lead in the likeness that God desires.”
Hoshaf tucked his knees close, “Are you sure?”
“I can feel my own blood flow with the blessings of our God as I speak,” Thumfatem answered, “That’s how sure I am.”
“Oh,” Hoshaf said, “So what should I do now?”
“You’re the leader,” Thumfatem urged.
“I guess I can go tell everyone what I did,” Hoshaf wiped his face against his arm.
“No!” Thumfatem stood up suddenly, “I will tell them, you wash your hands and follow behind me, but do not show yourself until you hear your name.”
Hoshaf wiped his nose with a sniffle and nodded, his chest still frozen with guilt. Dipping his fingers into the sea didn’t make him feel any better, especially with Thumfatem staring at him with an almost hungry smile.
Flies began to buzz around Viyoh by time the two had began their walk back to the others. The walk was long and narrow, but soon they came to a bunch of lean-to shelters made out of twigs and leaves at the beach inwards of a cove. Hoshaf waited in the thickets as Thumfatem made his way down. The other Selka barely paid the him any mind as he made his way to the center of the tiny village of lean-tos.
It was only when he suddenly stood atop a large stone and shouted did they turn to him in confusion, “God has spoken to me!”
The others murmured and quickly surrounded Thumfatem. The fat Selka smiled and lifted his hands to the air, “He has seen how we have separated and split, how others elected leaders and made goals. He saw how our tribe had stagnated and grown quiet and so he has decided to choose a servant of his to guide us in our new life!”
“Who?” The crowd all but shouted.
Thumfatem held up a hand, “He had told me that the chosen shall emerge from the beach of Grottu.”
“That is where Viyoh had gone!” Antorophu cried with glee, and the crowd turned into a roar.
Thumfatem wiggled his nose and grunted loudly, “Two had walked the path of Grottu and two shall meet our God, but only one shall emerge, for the other shall be struck down, having shown a fatal flaw for the divine plan.”
The crowd gasped, their gasp only growing as Harshaf emerged from the thickets, an uneasy look on his face. Antorophu suddenly burst into tears as the crowd grew silent. Thumfatem eyed Harshaf.
“I have heard the council of our God,” Harshaf suddenly said, “He took my hand and with it he struck down Viyoh.”
“Our leader has been declared!” Thumfatem roared, a good portion of the tribe roaring back with wonder, the other portion shaking with confusion and some with tears. Those who roared turned on those who cried and began to shove them and goad them.
“Don’t fight! Please!” Hoshaf said with a shake.
“God has declared our leader and his prophet!” Thumfatem roard over the crowd, his supporters arming themselves with branches as the opposers began to shove and strike back.
Soon the beach turned violent and blood began to splatter as faces were kicked in and ribs were crushed by branch and fist. Some unlucky child was trampled by grappling adults, and one Selka whimpered on the ground, a sharp branch stuck in its stomach. Hoshaf hid near the thickets while Thumfatem remained on his pedestal, arms wide as his supporters either killed or beaten the last of the opposers into submission.
”In blood we are reborn!”
Viyoh, the first Selka made by Kirron and Hoshaf, the third get into an argument over Antorophu, the second. In his rage Hoshaf accidentally kills Viyoh.
Hoshaf is struck with guilt and found by Thumfatem, the fifth. Thumfatem, who has been rallying support for the Grottu tribe to elect a chief, convinces Hoshaf that it is the will of Kirron that struck Viyoh down and he is to be chief so long as Thumfatem is his prophet-advisor. The meek Hoshaf agrees.
Thumfatem presents Harshaf to the tribe as the selected chosen of Kirron and a riot ensues. Thumfatem and his supports kill and beat the opposers and in the end Thumfatem’s new heirarchy comes to fruition, with Harshaf serving as chief and chosen of Kirron, and Thumfatem as advisor and prophet of Kirron.
Xiaoli sat outside against the wall of the small room. The fight had drained more of her powers than she would have expected. With what little she had had left upon the trio returning to the mansion site, she had with great effort shaped a single room in what would one day become Hermes’ (and hopefully her own) sleeping quarters - her love needed shelter to rest properly, after all. However, for all her efforts and expenses, the river-girl deflated to the grass like a punctured balloon. She lifted her gaze and it fell upon the odd little birds in the trees on the edge of the clearing. She smiled weakly and hummed softly along to their songs. No one could possibly fault her if she let herself rest for a minute or three, right?
She rolled her head to the side and peered into the small room. There laid Hermes, snoring quietly in that same cute way she always did. Xiaoli found her smile broadening. It was almost too tempting to go and lie down next to her. She could just… Quietly sneak up and get comfo- No! No, no, I should let her rest, Xiaoli thought to herself and turned back to the birds, which now seemed to have flown. She let out a quiet sigh and looked down at her dress.
“I sorely need a new attire,” she mumbled to herself with a pout. She scowled at her hands, black and crimson with soil and blood. “... And new skin.”
A gentle murmuring came from the room as Hermes rolled over followed by an upset crackle. She must’ve rolled over on her cloudling friend. There was another pop and a “Zzt” and then suddenly a grumpy yelp from Hermes. With a gentle groan, the Dreamer came stumbling out of the room, rubbing her messy head and yawning. Without much else, she walked over to Xiaoli and plopped down next to her, fingers straightening her hair idly.
“How long was I out for?” She said through a sleepy voice.
Xiaoli smiled at her and let out a thoughtful, drawn-out hum. “Half a day, I reckon. You were exhausted. Here.”
Xiaoli offered her a stone cup of something sweet-smelling and red. Hermes glanced over the cup with a thirsty look and greedily took the cup with a smile.
“Turns out ground sweetgrass mixed with water yields a rather nice refreshment. It’s probably also my new favorite thing. I think I have had four cups already.” She giggled innocently.
With a monstrous gulp, Hermes drank the sweetgrass juice. She gave a smug, pink stained smile at Xiaoli and nudged her with her elbow, “I told you.” She licked the sugar off the edges of her mouth and closed her eyes.
“Leg’s all better,” Hermes announced, flickering her eyes open, “I think my back has a bit of a scar though, and my head is still pounding.”
“You should rest some more,” Xiaoli cautioned. “Still, I’m surprised your leg healed so fast. His Holiness K’nell must be keeping a close eye on you.” She winked playfully. “Also, don’t worry about the scar. Scars can be…” She hesitated and cleared her throat. “Yeah, don’t worry about it.” Hermes gave Xiaoli a knowing look along with a wry smile. Her face changed as a thought crossed her mind, “Do you think God is going to be mad at us when he finds out we used Limbo?”
“Well… It was an accident, right? A good master shouldn’t punish its servants for mere accidents… Ideally, anyway.” She pulled Hermes’ sack, which was resting comfortably next to the room wall, over and reached inside, grabbing a jelly tart. She then offered one to Hermes.
“Have something to eat, too.”
“You’re probably right,” Hermes nodded, taking the tart from Xiaoli. She took a bite and chewed in thought. After a moment she swallowed, “Xiaoli?”
“Hmm?” Xiaoli replied through a thick wall of dough and jelly in her mouth. She bowed her head to excuse herself, swallowed and repeated herself: “Yes?”
“What do you think it is to be a mortal?” Hermes looked over with curious autumn eyes.
Xiaoli froze for a moment. “W-well…” she began, but seemed unable to continue the sentence for a short period of time. Finally, she nodded and started over. “Well, I think that to be mortal is to live and explore the world the gods created - to be given choice of who one would like to serve or what one would live for; then, to one day be only a memory to the ones who love you.” Her head sank. “I’m sorry, it’s not a good answer,” she confessed somberly.
“I like it,” Hermes reassured her, “It’s close to what K’nell told me. I have another question, too, though.”
Xiaoli, now seemingly sporting a slightly more melancholic look, turned to Hermes and smiled wryly. “Sure, go on.”
Hermes paused for a moment, her eyes softening in an almost apologetic manner as she asked, “Do you think mortals are lesser beings?”
Xiaoli blinked and turned to Hermes, though her eyes refused to meet with hers. “I-... I wouldn’t go as far as to call them… Lesser beings. That’s such a-...” She hesitated, Hermes brow slanting. “Maybe not as-... Oh, do I have to answer?” She pleaded.
“No,” Hermes said quickly, her arms crossing as she turned slightly away, “I guess you don’t.”
“Hermes, I-...” She reached out to grab her arm. “‘Mortals’ is such a broad category! There are who ranks and classes within! You, for example, are not like other mortals!” Her eyes betrayed her forced smile.
Hermes turned back to Xiaoli, her form flickering to its original alabaster, “But I am a mortal.” She pursed her lips, “You’re not, but I thought we were equal.”
“We are! The relationship between lovers is different!” She had perhaps said that a little louder than intended. She pouted quietly. “It’s not the same…”
Hermes’ eyes shimmered with tears briefly before she turned her head away so Xiaoli couldn’t see. Xiaoli felt a nasty clump in her throat and shuffled a little closer.
“I wish I didn’t feel this way, you know,” she started.
“No,” Hermes cut her off and turned to her, “It was an unfair question.” The Dreamer wiped her eyes and scooted against Xiaoli, “I just have all these thoughts swimming in my head, all these questions. I don’t mean to take it out on you-- I shouldn’t.”
Xiaoli leaned back against her, arms slowly wrapping around the colourless woman. “No, I understand. You don’t need to apologise, my love. These questions are, well… Likely questions all mortals would ask of the gods… I’m sorry, I cannot lie to you. I wholeheartedly think of you as my equal, Hermes, but-... We are of two separate worlds. The best we can do is just… Be who we are, I think.”
Hermes nodded and leaned into Xiaoli’s hug, “But there is one thing mortals can create just as strongly as the Gods themselves, and it’s probably why you see me as an equal.”
She looked up at Xiaoli, “Those feelings you feel for me, the ones I feel for you. The reasons the questions come into my head and the reason I ask. We are creators too, just of a different type. Even when we fade away, we leave these things behind forever, you said it yourself.”
Xiaoli smiled. “I sometimes find it hard to believe that you are the same person that showed up on our ship and pointed your club at His Lordship, asking ‘friend or foe’.” She giggled softly. “You’re right, Hermes. Mortals are, without a doubt, the most integral part to the existence of the divine. Even now, without anything to revere us or hate us, we are purposeless, weak. You, however…” She leaned over and pecked Hermes on the cheek. “You are greater than any god or goddess I know.”
“You're going to give me a bigger ego than Poppler,” Hermes smiled bashfully. “Also,” Her brow fell and smile grew, “In my defense, I had just met Narzhak and he scared me with promises of fights and enemies AND THEN Shengshi comes out of nowhere asking me all sorts of things I didn't understand with that little down the nose glare he does.”
“Yeah, he does do that a lot.” Xiaoli chuckled sheepishly. “He really likes you, you know… Your constant glee cheers him up in these uncertain times.” She ran her hand through her hair and gave her a playful wink. “Even if your manners are a bit... Improvised.”
“They got me you,” Hermes stated matter-of-factly, “Should count for something.”
Xiaoli giggled. “Oh, stop it, you.” She planted another wet kiss on her cheek and left her head on her shoulder. “I’m happy I was created.”
“I couldn't imagine a Galbar without you,” Hermes pressed her cheek against her head, “Nor do I want to.”
“Me, neither,” Xiaoli said with a happy sigh. After a prolonged pause, she squeezed Hermes’ hand.
“Hey, Hermes?”
“Mmm?” Hermes said with a content breath, her eyes closed.
“You said your leg’s all better, right?” Xiaoli gently caressed Hermes’ leg in question.
Hermes opened her eyes, “Mhm, why?”
“Could you… Teach me how to dance?”
“Of course,” Hermes said without lifting her cheek from Xiaoli’s head, “But if I could make a suggestion?”
“Of course,” Xiaoli echoed.
“Let’s get you some new sand,” Hermes nose scrunched.
Xiaoli’s face drained at first, but then she chuckled sheepishly. “I suppose I had to be the smelly one some day. Yeah, let’s go do that.”
Hermes lifted her cheek, little bits of sand sticking to her pale face, “Let’s.”
Hermes’ sandals sunk into the white sand below. The duo stood by a calm cliff face just ever so slightly inland, the ocean side bluffs of Tendlepog far too windy and dangerous for such a task as finding new skin for Xiaoli. Lucky for the two, the slashing winds of the coast brought the freshly ground stone with it, depositing the sandy particles at the foot of the cliff they now stood before.
As far as the eye could see, the white powder reigned supreme, with only the inland horizon betraying the red of the grass underneath. Hermes stared expectantly at Xiaoli, her eyes waiting for her reaction to Hermes’ choice of sand.
“It’s really white, just like your original,” Hermes explained, “But- but if you want tan, we can probably find some, I know a sandy river that has darker colors.” As if a catalogue, the woman’s own skinned shifted through different colors of sand.
Xiaoli grinned widely at the vast white shore. Immediately, she shot the dirty muck she was wearing through her right hand, did a neat little twirl and then threw herself into the finely ground sand with a cheerful laughter. She rolled around, letting the warm sand catch her exposed body parts. Then, once she had seemingly had her fun, her body sucked up the sand around her through her hands and feet, covering the rest of her. She let out a happy giggle.
“You have no idea how good this feels,” she teased with a wink. “It’s like taking a bath, but so much more fun!” She tossed a handful of sand into the air and laughed.
“Pbttf” Hermes spat out a few grains that floated by her face and smiled. She squatted, feet flat, and rubbed her hand against the warm sand. With a thud, she let herself fall to the side and rolled over to Xiaoli, stifling a laugh, “it's so warm.”
Xiaoli rolled closer to Hermes and let out a gleeful hum. “Not as warm as you are, my love.” She laced the fingers on her right hand with her left and rubbed her face against hers, the thick, sharp grains from before having been entirely replaced with soft, silky particles.
Hermes’ smile started in her eyes, leaning back to get a good view of Xiaoli's face. She brought her hands over Xiaoli's cheek, her fingertips feeling the new sand, “Do you want to dance?”
Xiaoli smiled shyly. “Sure. Sweep me off my feet, my angel,” she said and bit her lower lip a little.
Slowly standing up, Hermes lightly tugged Xiaoli to her feet. Xiaoli rose obediently and patted her ragged dress a little to get the worst of the sand off. Sparkles of sand clung to Hermes’ hair, but she didn’t seem to mind as she pulled Xiaoli close, wrapping one arm around he and lacing her fingers with her other hand.
Slowly she mimicked the same steps she had shown Xiaoli on Dragon’s Crown, except at a much slower rhythm. “Just step with me,” Hermes said gently, “It’s easier in the palace, the music really helps.”
Xiaoli carefully followed Hermes’ steps, though it was evident that she was unfamiliar with this form of dance, frequently stepping out of rhythm and briefly tripping over her own feet. She did not seem to mind, however; the presence of Hermes kept her grinning from ear to ear despite nearly falling several times. After a few tries, she grasped the basic steps and found herself able to follow Hermes’ lead. “I… I think we can go faster,” she said carefully while looking down at her feet as if to maintain control.
Smiling wide, Hermes slowly began to spin with Xiaoli, their steps slowly quickening, bobbing back and forth with a gentle flow. “I have to bring you to the palace,” Hermes idly said, her eyes watching Xiaoli’s movements as the made circling steps around the sand.
“I’d love to g-woah…” She misstepped, but quickly regained her composure, inciting a warm giggle from Hermes. “To go! When would we have the opportunity to?”
“Hmm,” Hermes hummed as she lead Xiaoli, “What do you usually see when you sleep?” She pulled her close and they spun around, “Do you dream?”
Xiaoli’s smile faded a bit and she looked at Hermes’ face before and after the pirouette. “I haven’t so far. I know His Lordship has dreamt before, but I haven’t slept enough, I think.” She hummed. “Is there a trick to it?”
“Didn’t you sleep after my blessing?” Hermes’ looked over Xiaoli with concern, the dance slowing.
“I-I mean… I did, but I cannot remember dreaming,” Xiaoli furrowed her brow. Then, as she was about to form her next sentence, her foot kicked against a rock and sent the avatar tumbling to the side, almost instinctively, Hermes turned the tumble into smooth dip, making Xiaoli’s face flush with pink.
“Oh,” Hermes held Xiaoli there for a moment before tipping her back up and stopping. She thought for a moment, “They usually just come to me on their own.”
Xiaoli blinked and looked away, squeezing Hermes’ hands. “You know what? I think I know what it’s like to dream, after all.”
“What do you mean?” Hermes squeezed back, her face betraying confusion.
“Every day with you is a dream, after all,” she said with a shy giggle and bit her lower lip again, leaning in to plant a soft peck on Hermes’ lips. Hermes blinked and patted her lips lightly with her fingers, dusting off the sand residue. Xiaoli let out a quiet “oh” and pulled the sand on her lips underneath the water surface below, giving her a simulated brown lip gloss. Hermes’ smile grew and the two fused lips once more, holding the stance for several seconds, and only adjusting to test each others’ preferences and limits. Tongue met petal; their hands caressed and grasped each others’ hair; breaths grew heavy, yet soft.
Finally, Xiaoli pulled away, placing a tired forehead against Hermes’ chest. Hermes’ face was red, and a smile was stuck on her face. Her arms wrapped around the river-girl and they stood in silence.
S: Oh fuck, what. I dunno what even happened. G: Most men don’t S: Fuck, dude.
G: Why the fuck am I eating mac and cheese with a fucking spoon. I feel like a degenerate. shit. S: I’ve been eating sunflower seeds for four hours. G: That’s commitment G: Shiiii this some cute ass shit. S: Shit yeah, fam
[Hr]
Started at 9, now we 12 That’s 1+1+1+9 yo
The scene opens with Xiaoli resting against one of the many future rooms of their mansion. She spent what power she had left after the battle in Limbo to create shelter for the wounded Hermes, but finds that she is rather drained as a result. Hermes eventually wakes up and the two share a meal. During the meal, Hermes drops the “what do you think it is to be mortal”-bomb and Xiaoli is taken aback at first, but then answers that to be mortal is to have a choice. Hermes is satisfied with the answer, but then asks if Xiaoli considers them equal. Xiaoli is unable to answer this satisfactorily, so Hermes is upset. After Xiaoli tries to defend herself, Hermes apologises for asking such a question and the two agree that their love for one another is what matters. They hug it out, and Xiaoli suggests Hermes teaches her how to dance, to which Hermes responds that Xiaoli needs a sand switch first. The two skip over to a nearby beach where Xiaoli switches her skin and the two play around for a bit. They then dance for a bit, sharing a lovable moment. At some point, however, they start discussing dreams, and Xiaoli admits she’s never dreamt. The conversation devolves a bit and Xiaoli loses her balance mid-dance, which Hermes uses to dip her. Xiaoli gets super flirty and the two share a passionate kiss.
Ashalla’s blue ocean faded quickly as the red stretches of Tendlepog came into view. The pair began to slow down as the coast disappeared. The sweet scent of the plains took over the salty brine that clung to the pair. Hermes’ eyes scanned the grasslands below, quickly zipping to a flat stone rock. As they landed, Xiaoli couldn’t help but feel a lingering divinity covering the flat heliopolis soaked rock.
In the distance cloudlings popped around the flowers of the trip vines, and distant herds of trees stampeded, the Tree-Eaters biting at their heels. Hermes put her hands on her hips and sucked in a long breath, “Home.”
Xiaoli dusted herself off and walked over to hug Hermes from behind. “Home,” she echoed softly. She took a moment to cast a glance at the rock they stood on, prodding it sheepishly with her right foot.
“Where did you bring us?”
“The plains,” Hermes announced, “Something doesn’t feel right about building a house right next to Limbo, but then again, maybe that would be a better place? I never did this before.”
Xiaoli hummed pensively. “The biggest threat to our house would likely be the stampeding trees, so we would want to stay out of their migratory routes, I think. Do you know of such a place?”
“Only the forests around Limbo, hills and the mountains,” Hermes bit her finger in thought, “Between the mountains and Limbo, I think we can find a spot. It’ll be close but not too close to either the moving mountains or the stone ring. How does that sound?”
Xiaoli nodded. “Yeah… Yeah, that can work! Oh! How close is it to a source of water? We need a place to drink from…” She sniffed and giggled. “... And for you to bathe again.”
“There are little brookes that cut through the forest and rivers that swivel around the changing mountains,” Hermes nodded, “They have fish, even--”
“Bathe?” Hermes suddenly stopped and sniffed her shirt, “Oh my.”
Xiaoli’s giggle turned to a chuckle. “It’s fine, dear. We’ll see to it when we find the spot. Maybe I’ll teach you to cook the fish, too, hmm?” She released Hermes from her embrace and put her hands on her hips.
“Well, shall we get going?”
“I don’t see why not,” Hermes smiled and wrapped Xiaoli back up in her arms before darting off. Their flight was quick, blasting over the grinding mountains and down into the forested valley that conquered the center of Tendlepog. Carefully zipping through the trees, Hermes finally stopped in a shady glade. A babbling brook maybe a meter thick and a third deep snaked the edge of the clearing, and beds of moss covered everything, even the sides of the gnarled trees. Lengths of thread like moss hung from the branches and the entire setting smelt of wet soil, giving the air sort of melancholic yet electric taste. Here and there, little rounded stones poked from the ground like headstones, smoothed and pocked with patches of cold mud.
“What do you think?” Hermes smiled wide.
Xiaoli admired the glade in awe, her eyes wide and crystalline. She walked over to the sandy-bottom brook and dipped her finger in it. She looked back at Hermes with a grin.
“The water is happy here… And possibly a little inebriated,” she mused. “Hermes, this is perfect! I’ll start measuring the dimensions of our house!” With that, Xiaoli got to her feet and zoomed left and right, using lines of water to draw up lines in the mossy grass. She also sampled the various rocks lying around.
Hermes watched with a curious amusement, eventually trailing behind Xiaoli and watching her process with big eyes. She eventually peaked over and up at Xiaoli, “What should I do?”
Xiaoli, whose arms were now full of pebbles in various sizes and shapes, let out a strained groan, followed by a pensive hum. “How about you, um…” She paused again. “... How about you chop down a tree for us, hmm? We will need wood!”
A wide smile broke across Hermes’ face as she hefted her club from her pack, “Of course!”
She pranced out of Xiaoli’s view, leaving the river-girl to her machinations. Suddenly there was a loud whooshing sound and then an explosive crack followed by the creak of an angry tree. A soft --yet somehow devious-- laugh sounded accompanied by an impressed popping.
Xiaoli looked up from her pile of rocks with a raised brow. “Hermes?” she called out with concern in her voice.
“I got us a tree!” Hermes called back, adrenaline in her voice.
“Is-... Is that really what cutting down a tree sounds like here?” she asked loudly.
“It is when all you have is the God of War’s club,” Hermes teased, “Don’t worry though, only the base of the tree is messy.”
Xiaoli shuffled over with careful steps, taking a look at the brutally murdered arborous creature. “W-well… Uhm…” She cleared her throat. “Well done, dear. Now, we may need some sand… Could, uhm, could you be a dear and fly over to the nearest beach or desert and bring back a backpack full of sand, please?” “Of course,” Hermes nodded with a smile, clearly excited over the whole house building idea, “I won’t be too long.”
Poppler zipped into Hermes’ hair as the woman took off into a blur. Xiaoli let out a sigh.
“She’s like a rainbow when she soars off like that,” she mused dreamily. She then rubbed her hands together and began lining up some stones along the watery outlines in the grass.
Upon Hermes’ return, the outline had been reinforced with stones and sticks to denote material type for specific parts of the house. Next to the early foundations, Xiaoli had set up a wooden board upon which were painted an architectural plan for the finished product: a mansion in the style which she had described to Hermes on Dragon’s Crown. Xiaoli was dabbing the last additions onto the board with an inked brush.
“You’re so quick,” Hermes said in awe, placing a sand filled backpack on the ground, Abanoc’s book safely tucked under her arm, “Productive.”
Xiaoli finished up the plan and took a step back to observe it from a distance. “I am merely doing my job, dear.”
“I guess you could say you’re doing God’s work,” Hermes mused with a curled grin.
Xiaoli suddenly let out a snort and a giggle, covering her face with her sleeve. “Oh, by the Architect, Hermes,” she said under her laughter and punched her shoulder playfully. Hermes’ grin grew and playfully punched back.
“I got you something,” Hermes pulled some of the scarlet red sweet grass from her pocket, “It’s nothing like the pastries we packed, but I figured a little Tendlepog sweetness was in order.”
Xiaoli gasped and plucked a few straws from Hermes’ palm. “Oh, Hermes, you shouldn’t have!” She put the straws in her mouth and chewed happily until her pebble-teeth took on a pinkish hue. “Oh, I love these!” She snatched a few more. Hermes watched happily as Xiaoli devoured the entirety of the sweet grass. Poppler buzzed around the pair, disappointedly before whizzing off to go find a flower or two of his own.
Xiaoli let her eyes run up and down Hermes and she furrowed her brow with a wry smile. “You always get so messy when you fly.” She swallowed the grass in her mouth and began tugging and pulling at Hermes’ wrinkly shirt.
Hermes cocked her head as she watched Xiaoli fuss, “Xiaoli, are you upset with how I look?”
Xiaoli blinked. “Upset? No! No, no, no.” She paused, straightening out the last leftover weariness in the clothing from their recent exposure to blinding speed. “It’s just… You look better when your shirt is all nice and neat - like so!” She took a step back and smiled.
Hermes gave a weak smile, “I know, I just -- well lately I feel like I’m always messy to you and I don’t want to be.”
Xiaoli’s smile waned a little, too, and she reached out to grab Hermes’ hands. “Well, I could teach you to take better care of your clothing and style, if you’d like. It’s not hard!”
“That sounds like something I should know how to do without you telling me,” Hermes smile was gone, but her fingers laced with Xiaoli’s, “I’ll just try to be more mindful.”
“It-... It comes with habit, you know? If you just straighten out your clothing and your hair after you travel, you’ll have worked it into your fingers in no time!” Xiaoli did her best to sound optimistic.
Hermes gave Xiaoli a half-cheek smile, “I know, thank you.”
After some time, Xiaoli had managed to stack and line all the necessary materials for the central courtyard, with three rectangles of wood placed neatly in the damp grass around a central square of pebbles and gravel. She gave the schematics another lookover, measuring the placements of the materials with her thumb. She let out a pensive hum as she begun to draw up the inner wall with sand.
Hermes watched as she shook out the last of the grains of sand from the fabric of her bag. She sat squat on a rock and gave the bag a whipping shake before flinging it over her back, book secured inside. She had been quiet, not wanting to bother Xiaoli too much, but as the minutes went by of doing nothing, she couldn’t help but feel anxious.
She squirmed slightly in place, feeling energetic yet useless. Finally she spoke up, “Um, Xiaoli?”
Xiaoli seemed preoccupied with the measuring, but let out an absent-minded “yes?” without turning around.
Hermes leaned to the side, watching Xiaoli’s eyes until it was clear she had memorized her counting, “Is there anything you need me to do?”
For a moment, she made no sound. Then, once she had made a little indentation in the wall-like sand pile, she turned around and brushed her uncharacteristically messy bangs out of her face and gave a wry smile. “Sorry, could you repeat that for me, please?” she asked as she clapped the excess sand off her slightly less sandy hands.
“Is there anything you need me to do?” Hermes sat up from her slouch.
She let out a pensive hum and rubbed her chin. “No, not that I can think of. How about you relax for a bit, hmm?” She flexed her right arm playfully. “I’ve got this.”
“Oh,” Hermes gave a small smile, “I guess I’ll go-- relax then.”
She stood up and stretched her arms up, her back popping from sitting. Letting them fall to her sides she gave the scene another look, “I’m gonna go find Poppler, he’s probably by Limbo soaking in a trip vine or two; be back in a few?”
“Unless-- you need me before then, then just give me a shout?” Hermes leaned forward expectantly.
“Oh yeah, don’t worry about it. This is divine work, after all. Take your time, dear.” She smiled and looked back to the schematic.
“Divine,” Hermes blinked, “Oh, of course.” Xiaoli did not seem to notice the shift in tone, being too busy with stacking pebbles.
The dreamer shoved her hands into her pockets and slowly slouched away, her feet kicking idle stones as she exited the glade. She mumbled to herself, most of her words not really words. The trees began to thicken and she lost her rock. Her eyes searched lazily until she found a particularly rotten branch to kick instead.
“What’s divine if there is nothing mundane to compare it to,” Hermes finally grumbled, “Then again what even is mundane in a divine world.”
She kicked the branch extra hard, the small twig exploding into rotten specks, “Useless.” She huffed and kicked another branch, “Stupid.”
Sucking in a heavy breath, she stopped, having found the clearing where Limbo sat, her eyes downcast. The words of K’nell soaked in her brain, his praise and philosophies battling her own frustration and anxiety; the argument eventually turned into an eloquent debate fighting against a stubborn denial.
A pulse of light caused her thoughts to freeze, and she looked up. Her eyes couldn’t quite describe it to her, but a gentle --yet throbbing-- light hovered over the black platform that comprised Limbo. Hermes’ brow furrowed in curiosity and she stepped past the trip vines with care, her eyes glued to the sight. She approached, her wet sandals leaving tiny marks on the smooth stone platform. Her eyes were thin lines as she squinted at the overwhelming light, the pulsing spectrum mere feet away now. Hesitantly she reached out, her eyes starting to close, and as her fingertips gently brushed the warm light everything changed.
Hermes’ eyes were shut closed, but a million lights pulsed through her eyelids. Her body felt like it was being thrown in every direction possible, and her ears screamed as countless languages yelled at her, and despite this she felt completely alone. She could hear every thought she ever had, see every memory, and ones she never even knew she had were relieved all in an instant.
“Stop,” She finally managed to command, and as if this strange existence she now found herself in understood, it all stopped. She opened her eyes, but she couldn’t see anything. She turned her head, but she couldn’t hear anything. Her voice was gone -- she was gone.
There was a loud ripping sound, and then all at once light returned. Being flung through an impossibly small speck of white light, Hermes suddenly found herself diving headfirst into a pile of yellow leaves.
She stared dizzily as she laid in a sea of leaves, tall elm trees towering above her, sprinkling their foliage atop her head. Birds chirped, insects buzzed, and squirrels foraged. A fall breeze blew between the trees that surrounded her. She went to sit up, but as she did, a great pain formed in her chest.
She retched, her stomach convulsing. She heaved, a loud gurgling coming from her throat, and then finally she threw up. A pearl the width of a thumb flew out of her mouth, covered in slimy bile. Hermes watched, her body weak and mind confused as it arched to the leafy forest floor. She clamored towards it, her legs feeling too much like noodles to use properly.
Before she even got halfway, a strange creature appeared. It was short and stout, maybe two feet in height. It wore crusty rages that covered a slightly human body, but it stood on cloven hooves, had only three fingers, and the face of a pig. Large cone like teeth grinned at her as it scooped up the pearl greedily.
“Hey!” Hermes yelled, her voice hoarse. The Piggut squealed and made a waddling retreat into the forest. Hermes slanted her brow and used all four of her limbs to scramble forward, eventually finding her legs again and standing up, but by then the creature was long gone. She didn’t know why, but she felt devastated, as if a piece of her was missing. She rubbed her forehead in worry, pacing back and forth as anxiety welled in her stomach. Where was she, what was that, what’s going on?
Suddenly the sound of creaking wood caught her attention. She turned to her left and began to wander towards it. The leaves crunched under her sandals and the trees began to disperse, and before long she was staring at a wagon, moving quietly along a dirt road, two men walking alongside it. She squinted at the blonde one, “Kalmar?”
The men stopped and one of them groaned at the other, a curly accent filling the air, “Have you been using fake names again?”
D’Bran opened and shut his mouth, “I-- uh.”
Hondros squinted, “Who is she?”
Hermes backed away a little.
“I don’t know,” D’Bran raised his hands defensively, despite towering over the shorter man, “I don’t remember.”
“Good heavens, man!” Hondros growled.
A dark haired man peaked from the wagon, the entire vehicle coming to a stop with a simply “hut!” from an unseen driver. Renevin slid from the wagon, “What’s going on?” He approached the other two.
“I need help,” Hermes butted in, her eyes wide and scared, her own heart in her throat.
The three men looked at each other with incredulous stares. Hondros tapped his black armor, “‘tis what we do.”
Renevin hummed in thought, his eyes studying Hermes, “What’s the problem?”
“D’Bran!” Hondros hissed, the Sandy cheeked man huffed, giving Hondros a knowing glare. Hermes shook her head.
“No, sorry. A pig person took my jewel,” Hermes explained slowly.
“A piggut stole your gem,” Renevin thought out loud, “I hate to say it, but you may need to count your luck. Once they are out of sight, they are most likely cozy and safe in the foothold they have a few stretches from here.”
“Harmony knows,” D’Bran nodded, “Sorry miss.” Hermes looked down at the news, her mind turning a mile a minute in thought.
“Well now,” Hondros tapped his chin, “Those cannibalistic thieves have been an issue for a while now.”
Renevin looked at Hondros like he had spouted some great wisdom, “We have three bodies, for once, and no other task.”
“Well the dragon,” D’Bran began.
“As optional as this,” Renevin explained, “We can do both.”
“I like it,” Hondros smiled wide.
“Me too,” Hermes was suddenly right next to the three men. The group turned to her.
“It might be safer if you stay back,” Renevin offered, “We can return to you once we get your object.”
“You don’t know what it looks like,” Hermes offered.
“We’ll bring all the objects,” D’Bran countered.
“I want to come,” Hermes explained, “I’m not useless.”
Renevin rubbed the side of his eye and looked at Hondros expectantly, the man pinching his mustache in thought, “Okay.”
Hermes’ face glew, “Great.”
Renevin looked at Hermes’ massive club and then at Hondros, giving an approving nod. Hondros turned to the wagon, “Hold by, we will be back.” A gruff voiced replied and the vehicle began a slow grind to the side of the road. The mustachioed soldier pointed to the forest, “Follow me, I’ll lead point.”
D’Bran shifted behind Hermes and Hondros, “I’ll cover the rear.”
Renevin shoved the sandy cheeked man forward with the flat of his gauntlet, “It’s secure; move on.”
Xiaoli stabbed the final wooden pole into the sand. There! The four corners of the outer wall were set! She took a moment to admire her work, only to find that it hadn’t really changed all that much since the beginning, except that the water lines had been replaced by wooden sticks and piled sand. She let out a quiet huff as she wiped her forehead of some moisture. She smacked her lips together a bit and frowned, so she went over to the brook to have a short break. Xiaoli poked her sandy finger into the water and let out a satisfied sigh as fresh, cool water travelled up her arm and into her form. She then realised she was feeling peckish, or more specifically, in the mood for something sweet.
“Hermes? Would you like a pastry?” she called out into the empty woods. The calling elicited no response, save for a couple of bird chirps, all of which were telling Xiaoli they were dieting, but would be satisfied with the crumbs. The river-girl pouted and bit into a red bean cake.
“Hermes?” she called again. Yet again, no one responded. A frog ribbited something about seeing her walk off in a direction that it spectacularly failed to point towards, losing its balance on the leaf it was resting on with even the slightest movement. Xiaoli sighed and sniffed the air. The familiar scent of her beloved drifted faintly in the deeper reaches of the woods, it would seem. Xiaoli shrugged and began following the trail.
The woods once again oozed that feeling of nostalgia, only this time, she was certain she had been here. She reasoned that Limbo was close. Looking down, she noticed skid marks and dents in the dirt, the wavy pattern of woven grass fibers being a common sight in many of them. Had Hermes been sleep walking? How long have I been working, Xiaoli thought in bewilderment.
A moment later, she came upon the familiar black platform of Limbo. A sudden flush overcame her body and the river-girl fell to her knees and kowtowed before the holy monument. She took in the scents of the grass and the soil - they oozed an almost nauseating divine scent. She felt herself doubt her right to be here, but this -was- were Hermes said she was going.
“H-Hermes?!” she whispered loudly, as if the platform before her was a sleeping beast she under no circumstances wished to wake up.
There was no response.
Xiaoli cursed under her breath and scuttle a little closer to the platform.
“Hermes!” she repeated in the same loud whisper, though a smidge of voice broke out on the first syllable. She grimaced and bowed to the black rock as an apologetic gesture of sorts - only to notice the bright light on top of it.
Xiaoli looked to her left.
Xiaoli looked to her right.
“Deeply sorry, Your Holiness…” she whispered under her breath before she slowly climbed on top of the platform, her dress making the affair rather clumsy-looking. In fact, as she got her left leg on top of the platform, there was a heart-wrenching rip. Xiaoli’s eyes became crystalline saucers with a singular black speck in the centre as she slowly inclined her head forwards to survey the damages. The tear was quite significant, reaching from her left foot all the way up to her knee.
“Noooooo…” she pouted. “That was my favorite!” She let out a somber huff as she rolled onto the platform and sat up. She took a minute to examine her dress again.
“Great, and of course I left my needle and thread on Jiangzhou - great job, o wise advisor, not planning for clothes maintenance!” she grumbled angrily to herself. “I suppose I could just--...” She shook her head. “No, no, I need my power to build our house. Everything must be saved.” She took a deep breath; then, she took another one.
“Hermes, where are you?!” she boomed in frustration. A flicker in the corner of her eye caught her attention. She turned to face the blinking, alluring orb floating an arm’s length away.
“How did I not…” she mumbled, rising to her feet. The light twinkled warmly and Xiaoli could not help but find it just a little… Entrancing. Guided by curiosity, her arm slowly reached out and dipped a sandy hand into the warm light.
Her vision blurred in the ensuing flash; then, the flash disappeared.
The chaos that followed shook the river-girl to the core. Never since her creation had so much information been blasted at her, striking at her senses like waves against a small rock. She had no bones, but she felt their groans, her simulated muscles’ cries. After what felt both like an eternity and an instant, Xiaoli finally managed to collect her distressed mind adequately enough to produce a pulse of power from her soul. The bright wave washed outwards from her spirit and body, taking with it the numbing nebula of noise and visions. Xiaoli’s feet finally felt solid ground and she collapsed to the ground, landing on her right hip and balancing her torso with her arms. She let out some distressed pants and looked around.
The scenery had morphed from a clearing in a mushroom forest to the deep corner of an elm forest, it would seem, its wildlife oddly familiar, yet frighteningly dissimilar. Xiaoli took a deep breath and got to her feet.
“Alright, so His Holiness K’nell has set up a gateway of sorts to-...” Her eyes widened. No, this was no place on Galbar… Yet it was. She looked around with quick movements. There, in the distance, she heard the familiar trickle of a small beck. She rushed over and put her hand into the water. Her hypothesis was confirmed - this water was not from Fengshui Fuyou. It was very real, yet it was evidently fabricated. It flowed through her fingers like a liquid mist, being incredibly close to reality, yet such a colossal step away from it.
Xiaoli rose back up. Hermes had to be in here. She would definitely have poked that funny orb, that curious little-...
Xiaoli felt her heart bump against her chest and she could not help but smile.
That curious little angel.
A scent tickled her nostrils. It was not Hermes’, no. It smelled similar to those funny, brown clumps of fur that snorted around in the mud in the Nanhe jungle. Boars, she believed they were called. She followed the smell until she came upon a pinkish humanoid with cloven feet, three fingers and a very frightened face centered around a porcine snout. Xiaoli quickly adjusted her messy bangs and put on her best smile.
“Hello there, mister! You wouldn’t happen to have seen a very colourful young lady pass by recently?”
The piggut let out a horrible, rotten smelling, belch followed by a curdled squeal. The small beastie dropped a half eaten rabbit to the forest floor and took off in a surprisingly nimble sprint, arms flailing.
Xiaoli retched at the stink and felt the pastries from before very nearly come back out, but she persevered. Her keeling forward had, however, directed her eyes to a strange pattern in the leaves at her feet - a puddle of a gross, yet oddly familiar goo. Reluctantly, Xiaoli knelt down and, facing away from the act, stuck her finger into the ooze with a whimpering “ew…”
A sensation pulsed through her on contact. In an instant, her nose caught wind of Hermes’ scent, somewhere in the direction that the boar man had headed. She discreetly wiped her finger with her sleeve, let out a sigh, and set off along the trail.
“Where are you from?” Renevin suddenly asked, breaking the silence as the group made their way through the woods. D’Bran looked as if he was suddenly relieved.
“I’ve never met someone so -- colorful,” D’Bran added.
Hermes, who had been wearing the same color as the leaves in her hair and eyes turned her head to the soldiers, “Oh, Tendlepog.”
“Tendlepog,” Hondros mouthed in confusion.
Renevin’s brow slanted, “Befurian?”
“Befurian?” Hermes echoed, ducking under a low branch. Renevin cocked his head to the side at that, before glancing at the others who shrugged. The group fell in silence once again, each one of them hopping over a small beck in turn.
Renevin tucked his scabbard close to him as he squeezed by a few tightly packed trees, only looking behind him to get another look at Hermes, “The north? Charlin?”
“Bit short for a Charlinite,” Hondros muttered, Renevin nodded in agreement.
“I’m from Tendlepog,” Hermes blinked, “That’s all there is to it.”
Renevin raised his brow, “I didn’t mean to offend.”
The group spreaded out as the trees became less dense. Hermes shook her head, “No, I’m not offended. This is all just-- stressful. I don’t really feel myself right now.”
“Robberies can do that to a person,” Renevin offered. Hermes shrugged, a hollow feeling was next to her heart, the sensation only growing with every beck they hopped.
“You know what I do when I’m upset?” D’Bran piped up, causing Hermes to look up at the man.
“What?”
“I think about all the funny adventures I’ve been on, and then try to slowly make them more and more ridiculous in my head,” He put his hands in front of his face as if holding one, “I twist it here, add a little color there,” He started moving his hands as if moulding clay, “and then bam! A comedy to rival the theatre’s” He laughed to himself, as if a grant joke had been told.
Hermes seemed to take the advice more to heart than the others. She stood up straight as she walked, her eyes glazing over as thoughts of Xiaoli popped in her head, along with dancing Shengshi’s and deep voiced Popplers. A tiny smirk appeared on her lips as she slowly twisted the images into crazier and crazier scenarios; Poppler was crowned king of the Cloudlings, only to declare Galbar in a serious state of emergency, needing endless festivals immediately. Kalmar had fallen in love with his own reflection, bringing it along with him to the dances. Suddenly Hondros held up a hand, knocking her from her reverie.
In front of them stood a rooted hill, the dangling roots covering the maw of a hand dug cave. All around them the forest was quiet except for the patter of falling leaves. Tiny rasps sounded as the soldiers’ swords exited their scabbards, all save for D’Bran’s. D’Bran simply hefted a mighty spadone from his back, the long sword looking like more of a chisel with a point in his hands.
Renevin slipped his shield onto his right arm, and Hondros slipped his to his left. The three looked expectantly at Hermes, who produced her mace and nodded. Hondros and Renevin disappeared into the rooted cave first, Hermes and D’Bran following just behind.
Much to Hermes’ surprise, the cave was a lot bigger than she expected. Soil caked the walls and roots held the ceiling in place, but after the initial dip to get in, it was high enough for even D’Bran to stand upright. Hermes opened her mouth, “W-”
“Shh,” Renevin quickly silenced her. Pointing a gloved finger forward, sword. Following his finger, Hermes could make out a mass of silently breathing figures in the deep of the cave, their pot bellies rising and falling, emitting a horrible rotting smell. All around them there were bones of different shapes and sizes, some even looked as if they belonged to unfortunate children. She scrunched her nose in disgust and looked expectantly at Renevin.
The man gave her a look, as if cautioning her to silence. The group crouched slightly as they advanced, hoping not to wake the slumbering masses -- when all of a sudden a screaming piggut came running in, smears of rabbit gore on its face.
The entire cave exploded into violent pig like screams. The small beasts swarmed the group, their evil eyes glittering like the jewels they were sleeping on. Jagged and crude weapons of pain held firm in their hands.
Renevin swung his blade, the edge cutting a piggut down mid flight with a horrible rip. He pivoted, catching a chipped axe on his shield with a resounding bang. Pushing forward, he knocked a tightly packed group of pigguts over. Hondros slipped next to Renevin, his blade striking forward and skewing a babbling Piggut through the throat, turning it into a bloody gurgle.
“Clear!” D’Bran roared, and the two other soldiers split apart methodically. With a mighty overhead swing, D’Bran brought his spadone down in violent arc. The blade cleaved through the skull of a piggut, splitting the beast in half with a explosion of gore. Following example, Hermes quickly did the same, through gritted teeth she swung, her mace caving in the head of a piggut with a wet crunch.
The force vibrated up to her arms, and as she was winding her next swing, a massive piggut bowled forward, splitting the piggut swarm apart like waves. The warlord held a large hunk of metal pounded into a cruel cleaver. With a shaking roar, he charged Hermes.
Hermes felt her sandals flutter and in an instant she had burst away from the warlord, falling backwards into a pile of dead pigguts. A hard thwack smacked the side of her head and her vision blurred. She jerked away, a knotted club just missing her face. Pain tinged her temple and she felt a trickle. Heart pounding with adrenaline, her vision quickly returned.
She rolled to her feet, but the club holding pigguts who were before her quickly scattered as Renevin appeared. The edge of his shield cracked across the back of one of their necks, his sword swinging at another. Hermes felt a cloud of blood spray across her face as D’Bran’s spadone swung broad, ripping through two pigguts at once.
Shaking her head and turning to a fast approach group of pigguts, she held her mace to bear, Hondros covering her flank; his blade dripped with scarlet. The group lunged.
D’Bran pushed to the right of the cave, Renevin slamming into the horde with his shield beside him. Hondros covered their rear, his blade shooting like a piston from behind his shield over and over, collecting gurgled squeals with each wet stab. Hermes turned on her heel, the space between the group growing as she focused her mace on a small group.
She heaved her shoulder, the mace slamming into a pigguts chest with a loud crack, sending the beastie flying through the cave. She slammed into another, the spikes of the mace ripping their chest open. She went to swing again, but then suddenly a warm sensation entered her left leg and then a shot of pain.
The pigguts had surrounded her, cutting her off from the others. She spun, a small jagged knife sticking out of her calf. She brought her mace down on the perpetrator with a loud smack, but then she felt a cut across her back, a shiver growing in her chest as blood streamed out. She spun again, and again.
Her eyes grew with worry as she became overwhelmed, her skin tingling as it paled. Renevin gave out a shout, but he was too far away, the mass of pigguts having moved between them She could see D’Brans sword trying to cut a path to her, but her heart was already in her ears.
A club slammed into her knee, causing her to kneel in pain. She brought her mace up in time to deflect a rusty meat cleaver. Her sandals fluttered, but there wasn’t any room in the cave for flight. Her eyes grew with worry, the warlord towering behind the pigguts that surrounded her.
There was a blood-curdling slice and the pigguts tripped forward, though something was missing - where their heads had been squirted sad fountains of nasty, red ichor. A glinting, flat and thin, straight blade balanced all those heads on its fuller before tilting upwards and allowing them to drop down onto the corpses of their owners. The blade pulled back towards the cave entrance, seemingly pulled by a tendril of water. Finally, it rested in the grip of a clear, transparent, liquid humanoid, and only then did the blade’s sand-like appearance become evident. Xiaoli was steaming, made more visible now from the lack of her sandy skin.
“Keep your disgusting fingers off of my woman,” she seethed. Hermes quickly scrambled through the opening with a slight limp, lifting herself to her feet besides Xiaoli.
The warlord broke through the now thinning group of pigguts, the tusked beast charging the avatar.
Xiaoli let her eyes fall upon the bleeding Hermes for a minute, her face paling in shock. The river-girl’s eyes themselves began to boil and her hair spiked in every direction as she scowled at the stampeding warlord. With a furious scream, she sucked the blade of sand into her wrist, then blast it out through her opposite hand in the form of many, razor-sharp glass arrows.
Renevin and the others could be seen, eyes wide as they dove to the ground, shields up. The crystalline arrows glittered for a fraction of a second, the barrage quickly turning into a explosion of gore. Blood misted and pigguts screamed horribly. Flesh tore from the group and holes peppered the body of the warlord, his frame only being held up by the continuous impact of the arrows.
The arrows stopped, leaving nothing but a cave of mush, three wide eyed soldiers, and a shocked Hermes. Her gaze was struck in awe at Xiaoli, who immediately knelt down by Hermes and began to inspect the damages.
“Hermes, my love, are you alright?!” she said through desperate whimpers. Had she had skin, her cheeks would be awash with tears. Her transparent hands fell on Hermes’ stab wound and she reached one hand to her dress and began to rip off thin and wide strips. She enclosed the stab wound with the knife still in it.
Hermes left eye was closed, the blood from her forehead irritating it, but she managed to look at Xiaoli with a twinkle in her right, “I'll be okay, just-- I'm glad you're here.”
Xiaoli sniffed and leaned in to give her a peck on her bloody cheek. “Yeah, I’m here. Now brace yourself. This will be painful.” She closed her free hand around the hilt of the knife, looking up at Hermes to acknowledge her readiness, though not really waiting long enough.
“Oka-” Hermes’ voice turned into a squeal of pain. Xiaoli ripped the knife out swiftly and closed her free hand around the wound. Then she pulled out a strand of her hair and put it into her water hand. The strand snaked its way to the wound and dug itself into Hermes’ skin in a zig-zagging manner, slowly closing the wound. Finally, Xiaoli wrapped a wide strip of her silk dress tightly around Hermes’ leg. A metal boot landed next to the pair.
“What in Harmony was that!?” D'Bran all but barked, Hondros and Renevin running up to capture their red faced friend. The angry man wiped flesh splatter from his forehead and flicked it on the ground, shards of sand sticking in one of his pauldrons.
Xiaoli ignored him and placed two careful hands on Hermes’ head, patting her skull gently, yet firmly, to survey the damage. She simultaneously used her liquid hands to wash the blood away from Hermes’ face.
“Hey! La-” Renevin shoved D'Bran back, Hondros now kneeling besides Xiaoli and Hermes, watching intently. Hermes gave him little mind, her eyes now both stuck on Xiaoli, happy if not tinged with pain and a mild concussion.
Xiaoli wrapped a longer strip around Hermes’ head to cover up the headwound and finally gently bent her forward to tend to the back wound. This one appeared to be superficial, but was still a wound, so Xiaoli washed it and wrapped it in a silk bandage. The river-girl took a moment to survey Hermes’ one final time before placing her hands on her shoulders.
“Hermes, I-...!” She took a deep breath. “You-! Why were you-?!” She straightened her mouth and looked down. “Okay, I want to start off by saying I am not-...”
Hermes cocked her head, and slowly snaked her arms around Xiaoli, pulling her close into a hug. The slightly delirious Dreamer stayed like that, arms tightening. Hondros looked up at Renevin who shrugged, hands still holding a now curious D'Bran back.
Xiaoli stopped her yappering and wrapped her arms around Hermes’ back. “I’m sorry… I just don’t want you to leave me - not like this. I don’t know what I-...” She squeezed tighter, her form soaking through her and Hermes’ clothes.
Hermes didn't seem to mind as she kept Xiaoli as close as possible, “You're not going to lose me.” She all but whispered, the adrenaline leaving her body. Xiaoli rubbed her wet face against Hermes’, her cheeks a texture similar to the tongue of a little dog.
“So,” Hondros suddenly spoke, his armor painted red, “What exactly -- or rather -- who exactly are you people and what was that?”
“Uh,” Hermes trailed, slowly letting go of Xiaoli, “I'm from Tendlepog, remember?”
“Yeah,” Hondros tucked his lower lip in and nodded, “Yeah except not only do I not know that place, you, or what your jewel was, but your nymph friend just wiped out a cavern of pigguts with as much as a thought.”
“Nymph, you think?” D'Bran furrowed his brow.
“Too pretty for an elemental,” Hondros called back, soliciting an evil glare from Hermes and a head shake from Renevin.
Xiaoli slowly stopped cuddling Hermes. She rose to her feet and dusted off what remained of her dress.
“Maybe,” Renevin walked over, kneeling to join the talking trio, “We find your gem,” he looked at Hermes, “Walk you out of the cave, and split ways.”
D'Bran opened his mouth but then shut it, “curiosity tempts the voiceless I suppose.”
“Wait, what gem?” Xiaoli asked, folding her arms over her bosom. “And also, I suppose you could call me a nymph, in some senses of the word - oh, pardon me a moment.”
Xiaoli strolled over to a corner of the cave and stuck her hands in a bloody pile of sand. The water almost effortlessly pulled the grains over itself until she once again had her familiar exterior, albeit quite a bit redder and dirtier. She grimaced and let out a long groan.
“Ugh, it’s like wearing dirt,” she grumbled as the soldiers looked on with bewilderment. “Hermes, can we find a beach or something on the way home, please? Even a saltwater beach will do at this point.” She licked her lips with her flower petal tongue and her face contorted. Finally, her eyes fell back on the soldiers.
“Oh, pardon all that, please.” She bowed. “An honour to make your acquaintances. I am Xiaoli, first advisor to His Lordship Shengshi. Who do I have the pleasure of addressing, may I ask?” She smiled, revealing all her pebble teeth of various sizes and colours.
Hondros tilted his head, eyes squinting, “We are of the Praxian Storm Guard,” He looked at Hermes, “Contracted to help recover a precious jewel from the pigguts.”
D’Bran mounted the name ‘Shengshi’ at Renevin, who gave him a bewildered head shake. Hermes limped up to Xiaoli, “I found them, can you believe it?” There was a slight excitement in her voice, “Dreamers, hidden away.”
“Dreamers?” Xiaoli voiced with a hint of skepticism as she eyes the soldiers up and down.
“You must have us confused,” Hondros shook his head, “I’m Taranesian, he’s Garthillian,” he pointed to Renevin, “And that guy is-- Void be damned, where are you from again?”
“Somewhere North,” D’Bran nodded, “But I grew up here, so.”
“Two Garthillians and a Taranese,” Hondros counted, “Don’t get me wrong, I love a good dream now and again, but I wouldn’t define myself as a Dreamer.” Hermes face seemed to shadow at this.
Xiaoli noticed Hermes’ face and frowned. “What is your species called, then? You look and act similar enough, so I reckon Taranesian and Garthillian are nationalities, though to my knowledge…” She interrupted herself and motioned for the soldiers to go ahead.
“Human,” Renevin kicked aside one of the piggut corpses in search of something, “We are human.”
“Human, Hinan, Smooth skin, dark eyes, small ear, round nose,” D’Bran listed what could have been slurs. Hondros sighed.
“I just want to say,” The man began, “I’m sorry if any of us seem impolite, but we -- at least I-- am not fond of surprises. If you could tell us now if we are getting involved in something either illegal or way over our heads, I’d appreciate that.”
Xiaoli shook her head. “Oh, that’s quite alright, sir. I’ve learned to be patient around mortals throughout my lifetime.” She winked playfully. “As for the risk your involvement poses, we have no requirements beyond recovering this… Gem, that you’ve mentioned. After that, you will likely never see us again - oh, and I mean that in its literal meaning - no murderous connotations and the likes…” She sighed. “Okay, what I’m trying to say is-...” She let out a ponderous hum. “You will be fine.”
“Mortal?” Renevin seemed to have been caught by the word, looking up at Xiaoli. He pondered something and then walked over, studying the woman with slanted brows, “You know who we are?”
Xiaoli frowned. “Alright, when I said I was patient, I did not mean that as an invitation to oogle, you know.” She pouted. Hermes who had been stuck in thought since the mention of humans suddenly looked up from her reverie, slightly moving between the two.
“I’m sorry,” Renevin said, his eyes flickering away and he returned to kicking over the corpses, “I just don’t often encounter people calling other people ‘mortals’.”
“He’s religious,” D’Bran rolled his eyes, “But don’t worry, I get it. Powerful wizard” He waved his hands, “Misewell be a higher being.”
“Ah,” Hondros suddenly exclaimed, fingers sticky with gore as he held up Hermes’ pearl from a pile of scrap metals stole from local farms, “Is thi-” He gagged slightly as old bile fermented into the air, “This it?”
“Yes!” Hermes went to run over but nearly tripped on her bad leg, opting to limp instead.
“Don’t strain yourself, dear! Just because I stitched it does not mean it won’t be painful to fall.” Xiaoli then turned to Renevin. “I’m sorry to hear that - the sight of a god is truly magnificent to behold… And terrifying.”
“So says the tales,” Renevin agreed as he watched with disgusted face as Hermes took the bile pearl from Hondros.
Hermes excitedly held the crusty gem to her face and then frowned, “I don’t know how it works.”
“Let me take a look,” Xiaoli said as she stepped over the stinking corpses. She reached out to take the pearl from Hermes; then, just as her fingers touched the orb, there was a blinding flash.
The chaos was familiar - colours of every spectrum assaulting her eyes to the rhythm of a billion symphonies - only this time, she felt a constant sensation in her hand. This comfortable warmth brought her a sense of concentration that let her focus on stabilising the absurdity of her surroundings. Like before, she dove into her spirit and released a pulse that stilled the chaos.
The light parted to reveal the familiar mushroom-ringed clearing. They stood upon the black platform, the orb Hermes and Xiaoli had been holding a mere minute ago nowhere to be found. Xiaoli blinked a few times and patted her face and torso with her free hand, just to see if everything was still in place.
Hermes had her eyes shut hard, her face clearly portraying the pulsing pain of her concussion. She all but leaned against Xiaoli, “I don’t think I can bring you to the beach.”
”ZZT”
A really angry Poppler zapped from the tree line and aggressively swirled around the pair, popping with concern and anger. It seemed to focus on Hermes for a while before gently poking her wounded areas with its fluffy body, the dress bandages collecting dew. Content with the rehydration, the cloudling landed on Xiaoli’s head, crackling with relief.
“Oh, Poppler, I’m glad you’re alright, at least,” Xiaoli said with a weak giggle. “As for you, my little adventurer,” she squeezed Hermes and scooped her carefully into her arms with the disproportionate strength of a God. “You can take me some other time.” She gave her a playful wink and a grin.
Hermes seemed too weak to protest, her eyes dazing in and out of consciousness. Eventually the woman shoved her face into Xiaoli and just simply stayed there.
Our trepid adventurer lovers (Really, Pioneers of love) had made their way to Tendlepog to make the love shack. Deciding the plains, while pretty, were too rowdy for their tastes and opted for a glade in the Limbo woods.
At the glade, Xiaoli nerded over a brook and Hermes felt useless. This frustration was taken out on a tree. Then after that, Hermes felt useless again and Xiaoli reminded her that she was a mortal and not divine, like her, so fuck off (except she didn’t mean it like that). Hermes grumbled and left, off to find Poppler at Limbo.
Limbo had other plans, and as Hermes approached she became curious about a glowing sensation atop the platform. Upon touching it she was transported to the dreamscape of Renevin and company.
There her “anchor” in the form of a pearl exited her stomach and was stolen by a piggut. In confusion and desperate need of help, she enlisted passer by soldiers to aid her in reclaiming her pearl from a cave of pigguts; The soldiers were none other than Renevin, D’Bran and Hondros.
By this time Xiaoli had grown curious to where she left, found limbo, found the glowy shit, and was also sent to the dreamscape. Being an Avatar, she had no issues with anchors or any other gateway bullshit, but was worried about Hermes. She found her bile.
Back with Herms and the dudes, they found the cave of the pigguts, got into a deadly scrap and killed some fuckers. Hermes got injured, being unused to mortal kombat, but Xiaoli showed up just in time to save the day and freak everyone out.
Confusion ensued between Xiaoli and the soldiers as they tried to grasp the situation, but before any real closure was made, they found the pearl, and upon touching it Xiaoli and Hermes were shot back to Galbar. On Galbar they sustained all the damages from the dreamscape. Poppler found them and was pissed, Xiaoli flexed on Hermes and picked her up. Let’s go home. Goodnight.
It was cold. All one could see was white. White for the overcast sky, and white for the sheet of snow that stretched beyond the horizon. There in the biting cold of the white lands, a single frozen lake rested for eternity. Covered in a sheet of meters of thick ice, its waters would most likely not manage to taste the warmth of the sun ever again.
A gentle snow fell upon the land. A shadow flew through the whiteness, its eyes melting the peaceful snow. Upon seeing the frozen Lake, it dipped its flight and landed. Soon, a small puddle had formed around the crow, and in that puddle’s reflection, a woman sat regally. On her knees, with her gloved hands placed in an ‘o’ shape just in front of where her bellybutton would be was she not wearing an ornate, white and golden gown. Her eyes were closed and she seemed to be taking in deep, slow breaths.
The phantasmal crow cawed loudly and pecked the snow near the image. It paused and cawed again, cocking its head in bird-like wonder. It stiffened and suddenly flew away.
Time seemed to pass slowly in the land of snow and sorrow. The puddle was left to its own devices for what could have been an eternity, an eternity interrupted by the fresh crunch of snow. K’nell placed his feet firmly in the snow by the puddle and leaned forward. His eyes sparkled and he smiled wide, “Hello, my dear.”
The woman’s eyes fluttered open, and slowly focused on K’nell’s face. She showed the gentleman a smile, warm yet not too wild. It was like she’d recognized him.
In time, the woman had released her hands from their odd position, and pressed her palms against the reflection, looking at K’nell expectantly.
Kneeling down, K’nell hovered his hand over the water, careful not to break the reflection. His face twisted in sudden thought. The woman seemed to laugh silently, and uttered a word slowly and clearly. ’Gently’.
Very gently K’nell placed his hand on the water, on top of the woman’s. It felt like normal ice cold water.
“Hello, Mr. K’nell. I have to say, I didn’t expect to see you around these parts,” The woman said, her words clearly enunciated and dripping an intangible air of elegance and class. “There’s not that many things that sleep around here, you see.”
“Puddles aren’t my choice of a sitting room,” K’nell winked, “Would you care for a relocation?”
“I’m quite comfortable here,” She said and looked around her, “and it doesn’t seem to have followed me. Where do you propose we go?”
“Well my dear,” K’nell began, “I’m inclined to regroup you with your other residents in an attempt to make a whole. Call me selfish if you must, but I rather miss our dances already.”
The woman covered her mouth and looked away with a slight blush to her cheeks, but the spaces between her fingers showed a playful smirk. Quickly, she shook her head and nodded. “So be it, I’ll reunite with the others. I rather like slower dances. They’re much more intense, don’t you think, Mr. K’nell? They channel something that usually never… Really sees the light of day.”
“I would agree,” K’nell smiled wide, “Gentle rain gives time for flowers to bloom, after all. Shall we?” He looked down at his hand.
She nodded with a chuckle and looked down at her own hand. A ripple went through the puddle and she disappeared. A moment later, K’nell’s hand gave off a soft glow and a particularly large snowflake fell into his palm, and then the glow traveled to the snowflake and that in turn became a crystal-like shard.
K’nell gave a cheshire smile and rolled the shard around in his hand for a second. Content, he slid it into his pocket, the shard clinking gently against the dream orb. He patted his pocket carefully and with a twist of a boot, returned to his stroll, a thoughtful hum on his smiling lips.
Birbo finds a puddle with a Li’Kalla in it
K’nell finds the puddle the BORB found with the Li’Kalla in it
She is class and elegant. K’nell and her throw a few honey’d words and then in a flash, she turns into a shard, fit for him to return to Li’Kalla with. ⅖ dragon balls secured.
I'm not really a bird.
[center]-0-
Where did I play,
A land of twisted branches,
A kingdom of clay,
A swamp of memories,
A never-ending day,
Where did I run,
Across the dawn,
Through the sun,
Across the sky,
Through laughs and fun,
Where did I walk,
Pristine grass green,
White cliffs of chalk,
Pools of sky so blue,
Orchard stones that talk,
Where did I sit,
By the gates of silver,
Near endless pit,
By forever horizon,
You may remember it.[/center]
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;">I'm not really a bird.<br><br><div class="bb-center">-0-<br><br>Where did I play,<br>A land of twisted branches,<br>A kingdom of clay,<br>A swamp of memories,<br>A never-ending day,<br><br>Where did I run,<br>Across the dawn,<br>Through the sun,<br>Across the sky,<br>Through laughs and fun,<br><br>Where did I walk,<br>Pristine grass green,<br>White cliffs of chalk,<br>Pools of sky so blue,<br>Orchard stones that talk,<br><br>Where did I sit,<br>By the gates of silver,<br>Near endless pit,<br>By forever horizon,<br>You may remember it.</div></div>
Unlucky0013
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