Valiant: Tales From The Drift

[Tails #36: Meet The Parents]

Log Date: 1/25/12765

Data Sources: Lysanne Arrignis, Jazel Jaskolka

Event Log: Lysanne Arrignis

Dandelion Drift: Common Room

2:04pm SGT

“Y’know, I think… I envy her.”

Dandy looks up from the lemon she’s slicing at the counter. “You’re referring to the Faroea?” she guesses.

“Yeah.” I say, staring through the wide window of the common room, down at the biosphere. I can see the temperate biome from here, and I’ve been able to pick out Sång within the open, fielded portion, interacting with the vorcruelians. “Imagine having the kind of confidence where you could just march around without clothes, hanging it all out there. Not a care in the world about what other people think.”

“I am not sure that is confidence.” Dandy says, notching the lemon slices so she can slide them onto the glasses of iced water she’s prepared. “She might look organic, but she is an engineered creature that was designed for a specific purpose. Her lack of attire is not a statement about anything in particular, but a product of the fact that she has nothing to hide.”

“How do you mean?” I ask, folding my arms. “Like, physically, she has nothing to hide? Because I definitely feel like she’s hiding stuff from us, but it’s information.”

“Well, the Faroea were supposed to serve as body templates for each of the Rantecevangian races that they inspired. They were meant to be looked at; to be studied and used as reference material.” Dandy explains, coming over with the two glasses. “At least according to the sources that I’ve researched. It would be counterproductive to Sång’s original purpose for her to be clothed, and so she eschews clothing.”

“But her original purpose was fulfilled, right?” I ask. “She no longer needs to adhere to it.”

“I assume so, but very often, habits remain in place even after the original parameters have been satisfied.” Dandy says, handing me one of the glasses. “The habit becomes familiar, or comfortable, or it may serve another purpose, and so a creature may adhere to it even after the original need for it has passed. I would presume that Sång never wore clothes for the first part of her existence, and grew accustomed to it. To her, wearing clothes might’ve been an alien thing that she did not like when she tried it.”

I take a sip from my lemon water, looking back down to the biosphere. “You’d figure she’d see everyone else wearing clothes and would try to fit in.”

“I think most people would. But I also observed that even if she may be quite humanoid, she doesn’t seem to think of herself in the same category as the rest of us.” Dandy says, coming to the window and looking through it as well. “And so whatever standards we may hold for ourselves, she does not feel pressured to conform to them.”

“That’s a nice way of saying that she thinks she’s above the rest of us.” I snort.

“Perhaps she has a good reason for feeling that way.” Dandy suggests. “I do not think she is like us, Lysanne. I do not believe she values the same things we do, and I am not sure she feels empathy for us, even though she is helping us. She is simply a different creature, from a different plane of existence; neither good nor bad, but simply different from us.”

I purse my lips at that. “If the Faroea are so different from us, why do they bother looking like us?” I mutter into my glass.

“It is not something they chose. That is just how they were designed.” Dandy says, sipping from her glass. “But I believe the ‘Be Not Afraid’ principle applies here.”

“The divine cloaking themselves in mortal forms to keep from scaring us off?” I guess.

“Indeed. We are less frightened by things that look like us.” Dandy says. “She said that she serves as the emissary of Rantheon deities. Since emissaries deliver messages and act as representatives, ease of interaction is likely an important facet of her role, and her form aids that.”

“I dunno, seems like it’s been doing a good job of distracting Milor.” I mutter.

“I cannot argue that point.” Dandy concedes. “At least she is on our side, though.”

“Is she, though?” I ask, turning away from the window. “She only placed the protective enchantment on Jazel after we agreed to answer the summons. Her ‘help’ was very transactional.”

“I assume she was doing what she had to in order to fulfill the mandate given to her.” Dandy says, following me as I turn away. “She will do what she needs to carry out the orders she has been given, which is why she is able to both coerce us and aid us at the same time. To her, these actions are not mutually exclusive.”

“Sounds like you have a better understanding of her than I ever will.” I murmur, roaming back to the counter. “We’re due to arrive at Rantecevang tomorrow, right?”

“In seventeen hours, yes.”

“And we’ll be meeting with Kaya’s… parents.”

“At least according to Sång, yes.”

“Who are supposed to be… gods.”

“Are you worried about it?” Dandy asks, joining me at the counter.

“I don’t like it.” I mutter. “I’d rather not meet ‘gods’.”

“Is that for any particular reason?” she says, sipping on her lemon water.

“I don’t want to deal with someone that’s got more power and ego than they know what to do with.” I say, leaning back against the counter and resting my elbows on it. “And I really don’t want to have someone talking down to me.”

“And you think that is something that deities or higher powers would do?” Dandy asks.

“I wouldn’t put it past them.”

“I see.” Dandy says. We lapse into quiet for a bit, before she says, “For what it is worth, I do not think that higher powers would behave the way they are often portrayed in media. I cannot say how they might behave, but I would encourage you to have an open mind. Perhaps there is something to be learned from meeting them.”

“Just don’t like it.” I sigh, turning towards her and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “But thanks for the advice. I should go check on Milor, see if he’s heard anything else on his end.”

“Yes, I was rather surprised he had more insight into the Tirsigal incident than I did. Any updates he has on that situation would be greatly appreciated.” Dandy agrees, leaning over to kiss my shoulder in return. “He may have many vices, but his connections are impressive. I imagine it is one of the many benefits of being a former Challenger.”

“Let’s just hope that doesn’t come back to bite us in the ass later. I’m surprised CURSE doesn’t know about it. Or if they do, they’ve chosen not to do anything about it.” I say, pushing off the counter. “Thanks for the water, by the way. You wanna share a bed tonight? I’d appreciate the company, considering I’m apparently going to be meeting gods tomorrow.”

“Of course. I’d be happy to keep you company.”

Event Log: Lysanne Arrignis

Dandelion Drift: Biosphere Access Deck

2:29pm SGT

“You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind.”

Milor looks around as I approach him. We’re on the access deck that wraps around the biosphere; he’s leaning on the outer railing that faces the window running along the ship’s side. It’s an interesting choice, because most people usually like to lean on the inner railing, staring towards the biosphere instead.

“You could say that.” he says, reaching up to take his toothpick out from between his teeth. “Most of us have a lot on our minds these days.”

“Yeah, can’t really argue with that.” I puff. “Any updates on Tirsigal?”

“Nothin’ major.” he says, looking back through the window to the tangled threads of tunnelspace outside. “No word on what caused it. I think they’re close to ruling out a natural disaster. The Collective aren’t happy, and I think it’s got the entire region on edge. Having that many hiveships massed in a single system makes people nervous.”

“That’s understandable, after what happened to Mokasha.” I say, watching the green-black abyss slowly glide by outside. “Do you think the Collective will act on it?”

“Guessin’ the Collective is a fool’s game. No tellin’ what they’ll do in a situation like this.” Milor says, sticking his toothpick back between his teeth. “They ain’t like us. On an organizational level, they don’t think the same way we do. Don’t move in the same ways that governments and agencies and departments do. You think you know what they’re gonna do, and then they go and do something completely different. I don’t think they’ll use this as a launchpad for an invasion campaign, but I could be completely wrong. You just never know when you’re dealing with the Collective.”

“Suppose I’m glad we’re not close to that region of the galaxy right now.” I say, leaning on the railing beside him. “Do you think…?”

“We both know that it was Azra, blondie.” Milor says without looking at me. “All the signs are there. When a demon goddess gets released, and then a world gets torched two weeks later, that’s not a coincidence; that’s a crime scene.”

“If she could burn an entire world, how are we supposed to do anything about her?” I ask. “Sång keeps saying we’ll be fine, and that there are rules that Azra has to play by, but…”

“Your guess is good as mine, blondie. Besides, that’s what the meeting tomorrow is for, right?” he reminds me. “We get to sit down with Azra’s parents and talk about how they want us to spank her. Can’t say I’m a fan of outsourcing your child’s discipline to other people, but if it helps us get Fluffy McFoxtails back, I’m willing to hear them out.”

“That’s another thing. If Azra’s a goddess, and she’s the one that torched Tirsigal, why aren’t the gods handling this?” I point out. “Not that I want to believe in gods or anything, and not that I think they should exist, but if they do, then this should be their mess to clean up, right? One of their people went out and did this, so they should be the ones to put it right. Why should mortals be the ones that have to clean up their mess?”

“I hear you, blondie. I agree with what you’re sayin’, at least in principle. Accountability, and all that jazz.” he says. “We’ll get to ask those questions tomorrow. But I also got a feeling that they’re having us take care of it for a reason.”

“What reason could that possibly be?” I demand. “There is no way that outsourcing this job to mortals is more efficient than it would be just to take care of it themselves.”

“True. But if it was the best course of action, they would’ve done it already, wouldn’t they?” he counters. “They’re gods. I assume they’re at least as intelligent as us, and probably more intelligent. They’re definitely more powerful, there’s no question about that. So if they’re smarter and more powerful, but they’re still wanting us to take care of the problem, there must be a reason.” He takes his toothpick out of his mouth and points it at me. “And that’s what we’re gonna ask them tomorrow.”

I sigh. “You sure that’s not gonna get us incinerated on the spot? Being nosy?”

Milor snorts. “What are they gonna do? They’re the ones asking for our help. It’d be rude not to give us an explanation when they’re asking us to go fight a demonic foxbitch that just charbroiled an entire world. I think we’re owed at least that much, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do.” I say, kicking my sneaker against the railing. “I just…” After a moment, I let off another heavy sigh. “…this wasn’t what I signed up for when I became a Preserver, you know? Like, I knew I’d be dealing with certain kinds of stuff. Pest infestations. Haunted houses. Trap-infested temples. Poachers, black market trafficking, rich idiots trying to keep dragons as housepets. That’s the sort of stuff I signed up for. But dealing with genocidal demon goddesses isn’t on that list. And it’s way above my paygrade; way above any of our paygrades. That’s Vaunted territory. Something you’d expect the Vaunted, or Challengers, or CURSE Peacekeepers to take care of.” I motion to him after a moment. “S’ppose it doesn’t bother you much because you used to be a Challenger. This is probably just another Tuesday for you.”

“Yeah.” he admits, staring back out to the tangled void of tunnelspace. “Can’t say I’ve ever faced off against a demon goddess before Azra, but Challengers would regularly get asked to do impossible things. So when something like that comes up, I just roll with it.”

“Wish I could do the same.” I mutter.

“It’s something that gets easier the more you get asked to do it. Impossible things, that is.” he says. “Look on the bright side. Once we’ve gotten through this, everything else will be a walk in the park by comparison. You can even add that shit to your resume. Bring it up during your next performance review when you ask CURSE for a raise.”

I snort at that. “Think that’d be enough to get me a five percent raise?”

“Eh, I wouldn’t push it. Four percent, if you’re lucky. Three is more likely.”

“Geez. How many demon goddesses does a girl need to defeat to get a decent pay bump around here…”

Event Log: Jazel Jaskolka

Dandelion Drifter Skipper-1

1/26/12765 10:50am SGT

“So this is Rantecevang.” Milor says as the skipper cruises through the clouds over the coast of Ailuron. “Looks like a nice world. Plenty of water, that’s always good.”

“It’s interesting. About thirty percent of the surface is land, but it’s broken up into smaller continents and a lot of island chains.” Lysanne says, leaning forward in the copilot’s chair. “Seems to be in pretty good shape, despite the number of calamities it’s been through.”

“What about you, kid? How you feeling?” Milor calls over his shoulder.

I don’t move from where I’m standing in the cockpit’s doorway. “Impatient.” I answer, without much tone or inflection.

“Oh c’mon, man. Lighten up a bit, this world is the stuff of legends! I know we’re here because everything’s gone to shit, but, y’know, enjoy yourself while you have the chance, y’know? Ozzy was hopping out of his skin when he heard we were coming here.” Milor cajoles.

I look over my shoulder, where Ozzy is snoring lightly in his seat in the passenger cabin. He always seems to doze off in the skipper. “Indeed. His enthusiasm is overwhelming.”

Milor squints past me. “Dammit, is he sleeping again? He just can’t stay awake while he’s in the skipper, can he.”

“Oi. Eyes on the sky, Milor.” Lysanne says, pushing Milor’s head back towards the windshield. “We’re not on autopilot. You need to pay attention.”

“Ah, it’s fine, blondie. We got no traffic up here.” Milor says, turning his attention forward again, then pointing to the left with one hand. “There’s our destination. Ain’t that a sight for the eyes.”

I step forward a little, glancing out the windshield in the direction that Milor’s pointing. There, to the west of us, is what appears to be a massive chunk of land, miles across, floating in the air just off the end of the peninsula we’re flying alongside. It’s about a mile into the sky, and though the exact dimensions are difficult to measure when viewing it side-on, the city built atop it is easy to make out. Glittering skyscrapers punctuate the skyline among lower buildings, and there appear to be patches within the city set aside for greenspaces and parks. Orbiting around the main island are smaller floating islands, some of them with smaller groups of buildings on them. The shadow that the flying city casts on the ground is massive, and waterfalls cascade down the sides of the main island, while a misty plume of water seems to be rising off the ocean beneath the island, slowly being funneled up into what must be a hole in the bottom of the island.

I come forward a couple more steps, trying to get a better view. “I didn’t know the city was flying…”

“Welcome to Cranberry City, the capital of Ailuron, and the beating heart of Rantecevang.” Sång says, stepping into the cockpit behind us with her arms folded behind her back. “Home of the Wildcat Mercenaries, who freed a town, then fought a war and founded a nation. This city is the promise of Rantecevang embodied: a pluralistic society founded and built by members of different races working together to create a better version of the communities they came from. It is one of the only cities that survived the calamities of both the Void Wars and the Age of Ruin. And it only grows more glorious with every passing century.”

“Alright, calm down there.” Lysanne grunts, shifting in her chair. “I’m sure it’s just like any other major city that’s got crime and urban problems.”

Sång narrows her eyes at Lysanne. “I would challenge you to find any other city that rivals the majesty of Cranberry City.”

“How is it staying in the air like that?” I ask. “That must be millions, billions of tons of rock, with an entire city on top of it. What’s keeping it from falling to the earth?”

“That is proof that Rantecevang trains the finest mages in the galaxy, and stands at the cutting edge of arcane research.” Sång answers, her words tinged with pride. “Cranberry City is sustained and kept aloft by enchantments crafted by the best magical minds that Ailuron has to offer. In the last seventeen thousand years, the city has only touched the ground once, and that was during the Age of Ruin. It has never touched the ground since then.”

“Commuting must be a nightmare if you don’t live in the city proper.” Milor remarks. “Imagine having to take a flight to work every day.”

“Not sure I’d want to live in the city proper. Can you imagine what the housing market must look like?” Lysanne says. “Rent and mortgages must cost an arm and a leg.”

“You mortals are insufferable.” Sång declares, folding her arms. “You witness the majesty of one of the greatest cities in the galaxy and all you can think about are the most banal of things.”

“Don’t get me wrong, looks like a nice place, but it really makes you wonder about what it’s like to live there.” Milor says. “Suppose the nice thing is that you don’t have to worry about earthquakes, right?”

“We will be meeting Kaya’s parents in this city?” I ask, reaching up to rub at my neck.

“You will, yes, at the Wildcat Tavern.” Sång confirms, ignoring Milor’s question and reaching out to grab my hand. “Do not rub the collar runes. You cannot remove them that way, and it serves no purpose to meddle with them.”

“They feel weird.” I mumble. “I didn’t realize I would be able to feel them all the time. It’s like wearing a Sunday tie.”

“The alternatives are to break your pact with Kayenta, or to leave yourself unprotected from Azra.” Sång sternly reminds me. “Do you wish to take either of those risks?”

“No.” I concede, lowering my hand.

“Then stop fretting the enchantment. Once Azra has been sealed again, I can remove the enchantment, since you will no longer need it at that point.” she says, releasing my hand. “I will go inform Maelstrom and Radiance that your group is almost here, so they can be ready for your arrival. Do not delay; they are looking forward to lunch with all of you.”

With that, she turns and steps through the wall of the cockpit, phasing straight through it. Seconds later, she’s visible through the cockpit’s windshield, translucent wings blurring as she makes a beeline for the floating city in the distance.

Milor lets out a longing sigh. “It’s a damn shame. She’s cuttin’ a ten outta ten on that body, but she can barely squeeze a three out of ten on the personality.” he laments.

“Milor!” Lysanne snaps incredulously, socking him in the arm.

“What! I’m not wrong, am I?”

“How would you feel if I rated your body and your personality behind your back?”

“Personally, I think I have a great personality. At least an eight out of ten. Body, eh… well y’know what, I’ll be honest. Six point five out of ten. Used to be a five, but I think I’ve been doing pretty decent since I got back into my Challenger workout routine.”

“That’s not the point! And you’re rating people’s personalities, so clearly yours is trash!”

“Oh psssh, like you’ve never sized someone up in your head, blondie. C’mon, let’s hear it. What’s your self-rating?”

“I’m not going to rate myself! I don’t have the overinflated ego needed for something like that.”

“Says more about you than it does about me. At least I can be honest with myself and put the numbers out there for everyone to judge.”

“Do you think she knows?” I ask, interrupting their conversation.

Both of them glance at me. “Are you talking about Sång?” Lysanne asks.

“Yeah.” I say, watching the shrinking dot that is the Faroea. Soon I’ll lose track of her against the backdrop of the city. “The thing with Tirsigal. The burned world. Azra did that, didn’t she.”

The other two are quiet, the levity of the previous moment evaporating. Milor flips a couple switches on the dashboard, then: “Figure you would know better than anyone else, right? You’re the one that keeps seeing her in your dreams.”

“I haven’t asked her. And we only found out why the Collective were massing a few days ago.” I say. “Sång disappeared for a couple days, though, right around the time when it would’ve happened. So she knows, but she didn’t tell us.”

“It’s not really surprising.” Lysanne says. “She strongarmed us into accepting the summons. So it doesn’t really come as a surprise that she would withhold information if she thought that it would change our minds or keep us from following through.”

“It wouldn’t have kept me from answering the summons.” I say, pulling my gaze from the windshield once I lose track of Sång’s outline.

“Well yeah, but you aren’t the one she was worried about.” Milor says. “We all know you’re going to go after Azra regardless of the odds. If Sång was withholding information, she was probably trying to keep from scaring the rest of us off.”

“But you all are still here, which means you’re still going to see it through to the end, right?” I ask.

Milor looks at Lysanne, then shrugs. “I ain’t got nothin’ better to do.” he says.

Lysanne massages her brow. “I mean, we’re already here, in direct defiance of CURSE’s orders, and the only way to break the link between you and Azra is to get her out of Kaya’s body, so we might as well, I guess. Everything’s gone to shit anyhow, so we might as well pick a fight with a homicidal fox goddess while we’re at it. Couldn’t possibly make things worse than they already are.”

“You don’t have to come along.” I say. “Now that I’m here, I can meet with Kaya’s parents and go from there. You guys can go back to CURSE if you want.”

“We are not going to do that, kid.” Milor says flatly, tilting the skipper’s stick ever so slightly to start curving towards the north side of the city, around the back. “I mean, I suppose I can’t speak for the others, but I’m staying to see it through. Someone needs to be here to haul your ass out of the water when you get in over your head, and you do that way more often than is healthy for you.”

“Not that I’m holding out hope, but maybe we can convince these ‘gods’ to clean up their mess instead of leaving it to us.” Lysanne says as she folds her arms, the disdain in her voice evident. “Probably won’t go anywhere, but we might as well try.”

“I would like that as well, if they agree to it.” I say, returning my attention to the city ahead of us. “So long as Kaya comes out of it alive. Whatever I have to do to get that outcome, that’s what I’ll do.”

“Even if we can’t get them to fix it for us, we can probably ask them for a hand.” Milor says optimistically. “Least they could do is give us the tools to fix the problem, if they’re the ones asking us to clean it up. Figure they’d at least give us that much.”

“One would hope.” I murmur as we begin our final approach to the city. “One would hope.”

Event Log: Jazel Jaskolka

Cranberry City: The Wildcat Tavern

12:21pm SGT

“Wow, this really is the place to be, isn’t it?” Milor remarks as we step in through the wooden doors of the tavern. From the outside, the building was quite a presence, taking up a hefty plot of land in the middle of the city, just down the street from the castle on the hill. The architecture looked like it was classical tavern construction, with hefty timbers making up the main supports and beams, and a sloped roof that had a watchtower rising up out of it. A plaque near the front entrance proudly declared that the tavern was a world heritage site, having been the original location of the mercenary guildhall that the Wildcat mercenaries had operated out of.

Inside, the tavern is a full experience, with heavy wooden tables and chairs scattered across the main floor, a full bar across one side, and a second floor with showrooms, and replications of the quarters that mercenaries used to live in. Many of the tables and booths are filled with locals and tourists alike, grabbing a bite to eat during the lunch rush; tour groups are on rotation through the building, adding to the clatter and tumult. The smell of winter stews is thick on the air, and the diversity here is beyond anything I’ve ever seen, even on Marshy worlds. Humans are actually in the minority here — the tavern is filled with wereckanan, dwarves, elves, vampires, orcs, sylvans, lepidopterans, vashaya’rei, and even some Kidaku.

“Oh. My. Gods.” Ozzy say, his voice cracking into a squeak on the last word. “This is it! We are here! This is the place! This is where it all began. Oh look, they’ve got the job board over there, that’s where they’d put the postings for the mercenaries! Guys, we should go get a group picture—”

“Whoa, whoa, hold your horses, buddy.” Milor says, grabbing the neck of Ozzy’s jacket before he can scamper off in that direction. “We’re here on business, remember? Sightseeing later.”

Ozzy turns to face Milor, his eyes wide. “Oh, you can’t say that around here! That’s bad luck, don’t you know?”

“Can’t say what?” Milor says, raising an eyebrow. “Sightseeing?”

“No!” Ozzy stresses, cupping a hand to his mouth as he leans in to whisper. “Hold your horses! That’s bad luck around here!”

“What? Why?” Milor says incredulously.

“Don’t you know? Horses were the mortal enemies of the Wildcats!” Ozzy says, grabbing his faded tshirt and stretching it out to emphasize the holomovie cover on it. “Haven’t you ever seen the Patrol and Pursuit movies? Belgrad the Mighty, Head Director of the Ostkong Border Patrol, one of the archnemesi of the Wilderlands Wildcats, was the most fearsome equestrian tyrant that Rantecevang has ever seen!”

Milor stares at Ozzy, then turns his absolutely befuddled look on me and Lysanne. I just shrug beneath my cloak, as I have no idea of what Ozzy is talking about; Lysanne sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose, muttering I’m surrounded by idiots under her breath.

“Yeah, no, I’ve never seen those movies.” Milor says, looking back to Ozzy. “Prolly not my speed, I’m more of a frontier films guy.”

Ozzy gasps. “You haven’t— we are watching the Patrol and Pursuit movies when we get back to the ship. The ones that were directed by McCorrin, mind you. The Vasilas remakes are just trash. With the McCorrin movies, they filmed them on as many historical sites as they could, including this very tavern that we’re standing in right now. Oh!” Ozzy twists around, peering across the tavern as if he was searching for something. “I wonder if we can visit the Mercenary Lord’s office, or the reconstruction of it. Or maybe his desk, from when he used to work as a secretary for the guildhall—”

“Ozzy.” I interrupt gently. “We were meeting two gods today, remember?”

Ozzy’s head snaps back towards me like chicken’s, sudden and jerky. “Oh right. Yeah, yeah, of course! We should probably do that first, and the other stuff later. It’s just— this is Rantecevang! We’re actually in Cranberry City! In the place where the biggest legends of Rantecevang began! This is like holy ground!”

“Okay. That’s great. You can lick the floorboards later.” Lysanne says, looking around. “Is Sång supposed to meet us here or something?”

“Pardon me.” One of the orc barkeeps has left his post at the long bar, coming over to us with a dishrag slung over his shoulder. “Y’all wouldn’t happen to be the quartet that are expected upstairs, would you?”

“Depends.” Milor drawls around the toothpick in his mouth. “Who’s upstairs?”

The orc smirks. “Why don’t you go find out?” he says, moving past us to unhook a rope that’s blocking a flight of stairs leading up to the second floor above the bar. “We usually close the second-floor balcony during the winter because it’s too cold to eat outside. But I think you’ll find the weather up there is quite pleasant right now.”

I incline my head to him, moving in that direction. “Thank you.”

“How can he be so calm about this?” I hear Lysanne mutter to Milor as the other three start to follow me up the stairs.

“He’s a man on a mission, blondie.” Milor replies. “He’s got some fluff to huff, and if he has to rub elbows with gods to get his fox back, that’s what he’s gonna do. I’m sure you’d do the same for your robutt.”

“Don’t call her that.”

“It’s a compliment. She’s got a kille— AUGHH okay okay I won’t call her that!”

I tune out their banter, making my way along the second-floor walkway until I reach the first door, and push it open. As promised, there’s a long balcony outside with multiple tables and chairs, constituting an outdoor dining area — all empty, save for a single table in the middle laid out with food, and two people already seated there. Both of them appear to be vashaya’rei — the man with dark hair and a dark suit that has a lightning-blue tie, with feline ears nestled in his hair. Beside him, the woman has hair that’s just a shade off from pure white, and she appears to be a vulpine vashy, her sand-colored fennec ears far more prominent. She’s dressed in a summery skirt and a white jacket with neon highlights, putting her at a stark contrast to her companion. Both of them have vashy markings on their faces, in the usual places around the eyes and along the upper cheekbones; but rather being dark marks, their marks are swirling with luminous color. Electric blue for the man, and prismatic hues for the woman.

“Oh look, Cat — he wears a cloak, like the Calyri tribes used to.” the woman says softly, watching me as the others filter onto the balcony behind me. I notice at this point that her irises, like her facial markings, are prismatic — multiple color and hues rippling through her eyes all at once.

“Yes, the witch covens of Aurescura do that. Though it’s usually only the women.” the man murmurs back, before standing up. “Please, come on over and take a seat. We’ve been looking forward to meeting with all of you.”

Ozzy gasps. “Could it be…? Are you two… Radiance and Maelstrom, by chance?”

“Ozzy, you’ve known for more than a week that we were summoned to meet them.” Lysanne says, exasperated. “This isn’t a surprise! You’ve been aware of this.”

“But now we’re here and now it’s actually happening and I am like, super freaking out, man!” Ozzy whispers back to her. “We’re actually meeting gods!”

“So they claim. I’m not really gettin’ god vibes off them.” Milor says, scratching his neck. “They look interesting, don’t get me wrong, but I kinda expected… more.”

I ignore the remarks of the others, moving over to the table and pulling out a chair so I can sit down. It’s oddly warm here — the winter chill seems to be surprisingly absent, despite our exposure to the open air. “Sorry it took us so long to get here. Rantecevang’s a long way from some of the more populated regions of the galaxy.”

“That’s fine.” Radiance says, smiling at me. “We’re just glad you came.”

The others start to join us at the table, pulling out chairs and sitting down, and Maelstrom remains standing until everyone else has started to sit. “To answer your question, Jarom Oxiris, yes — I am Maelstrom, and this is Radiance. However, if it would be more comfortable for you, you may call me Cat, and you can call her Teia.”

Ozzy gasps. “He knows my name!”

“What, are those your ‘mortal’ names, or something?” Lysanne says, the sarcasm in her voice not entirely hidden. I give her a light kick under the table, and she glares at me.

“Be nice. They called us here to ask for our help.” I mutter.

“Those are shortenings of our actual names.” Maelstrom answers. “And yes, we did actually summon you here to ask for your help, where it pertains to our daughters. I’m sure you’re familiar with both of them at this point.”

“Oh yes, quite familiar. The redhead is a real bundle of joy.” Milor says, starting to size up the dishes on the table and add things to his plate. “She tried to kill us all a month ago. And my gut tells me she had a hand in what happened on Tirsigal, didn’t she?”

Maelstrom presses his lips together, while Radiance answers. “She did, yes. She scorched that planet to ashes in an act of vengeance. That world did not belong to the Collective — it was something they stole from the Ranters a long time ago, and Azra wanted to take it back.”

“And by ‘take it back’, you mean she wanted to kill everybody on it and render it uninhabitable to anyone else.” Lysanne says pointedly.

“We’re not here to litigate what Azra did to Tirsigal. We don’t approve of what she did, although we understand why she did it.” Maelstrom says, one of his sleek black ears flicking — the only outward sign that he is irritated by the pointed tone. “We’re here because we know that you want to save our other daughter, Kayenta.”

“Yes, that’s why we’re here.” I say quickly. “Can you help us do that?”

“We can.” Radiance nods to me. “There is a way to save Kayenta and to seal Azra back in the Maelstrom at the same time.”

“The Maelstrom, as in the vashaya’reian hell, not me.” Maelstrom says quickly.

“You really should name that hell something else.” Milor says, lifting the lid on what looks like a stew dish. “That overlap has probably confused so many people. You have an entire language to work with, but you had to go with the one word you were already using for your god name?”

“I wasn’t the one that named it.” Maelstrom says. “I just called it hell. But the mortals figured out that I created it, and the rest is history.”

“Far be it from me to keep us on topic, but why can’t you guys take care of this problem?” Lysanne says. “Azra’s a goddess; you guys are gods; and she’s your daughter, on top of it. This is your mess to clean up, isn’t it?”

“If we could handle it ourselves, then we most certainly would.” Radiance replies sharply. “But this is unlike Azra’s other escapes from the Maelstrom. What she did on Tirsigal has put her outside our jurisdiction; and we need your help to get her back within it.”

“What do you mean by that?” Ozzy says, pausing as he reaches for a mini fruit tart on the table. “Outside your jurisdiction? But you’re gods; aren’t—” Then he stops and gasps. “Wait. Other hypernaturals are involved, aren’t they? Azra broke one of the Rules, so other gods are getting involved!”

Maelstrom laces his fingers together, resting his elbows on the table. “They are, yes. This matter is larger than just your group, or the Rantheon itself. There are many parties involved, and the situation is complex; if we took the time to fully explain it to you, we would still be here by the time dinner rolled around. What we can tell you in brief, though, is that Azra’s actions on Tirsigal are being treated as a crime, and as a result, our hands our tied in the matter — we may be her parents, but we have been forbidden from directly acting on it, whether to protect or to punish, while the Gathering deliberates on the matter.”

“I’m guessing the Gathering is like the court of gods or something?” Milor says past a mouthful of potato wedge. “Also these salted potato wedges are fabulous. Are they done in the dwarven style? This is a proper winter meal.”

“The Gathering is like your mortal Colloquium. It’s the hypernatural government, in the same way that the Colloquium is the galactic government.” Radiance explains. “The Gathering gets involved when there’s conflicts between different deities and gods, and since Azra torched a Collective world, the Collective demanded an assembly to raise genocide charges and demand retribution.”

“Wait, the Collective has a god?” Milor says, stirring around a potato wedge in his stew. “I thought they were an enlightened hivemind that didn’t need religion, or whatever their propaganda says nowadays.”

“The Collective has no ‘god’ as such, but they revere the will of the Collective in the abstract.” Maelstrom explains. “Their belief in the will of the Collective, being as strong as it is, creates a divine manifestation of that very concept. The avatar for this divinity is the Prime of the Collective, which passes from Prime to Prime over the generations. This is what allows them representation in the Gathering.”

“Which, if you ask me, is cheating.” Radiance mutters aside.

“Hypernaturals come in many shapes and sizes, dear.” Maelstrom points out.

“I’m just saying, we had to go through hell and back again for our apotheosis.” Radiance grumbles, corralling her hair over one shoulder. “And we don’t dump our divine responsibilities on the next generation the way the Primes do when they get tired of them.”

“Ooh, drama.” Milor says, leaning back in his chair as he licks potato wedge seasoning off his fingers. “I like these kinds of gods. This is fun.”

“Our point is that, as you can tell from these tangents, the situation that we’re in is very complex.” Maelstrom says, steering the conversation back on topic. “There are many parties involved, a lot of contextual history to explain how we got to where we are now, and you all are only a small piece of a big puzzle. As for Teia and myself, we are not idle in this, or offloading the handling of Azra to you because we don’t want to do it ourselves. If we could, then we would, but we are currently forbidden from doing so. Since we can’t actually personally get involved, we are doing what we can to advocate for our daughters in the courts of the Gathering while asking other parties, like yourselves, to be involved in the actual handling our daughters. Saving Kayenta, and sealing Azra back in the Maelstrom. Will you accept the summons to do that?”

“I will accept it, yes.” I say immediately.

“Well, wait, hold on now.” Lysanne says, leaning forward in her chair. “We want to save Kaya, but there’s a lot we need to talk about first. For one, if Azra was responsible for what happened on Tirsigal, then she murdered everybody on a planet. Billions of people. I don’t mean to sound dramatic, but that’s a pretty damn big power gap between her and us. How are we supposed to go up against that?”

“You will have our sanction.” Radiance answers readily. “Accepting the role of hero means you get the protections that come along with it. When facing off against designated heroes, Azra’s seal compels her to engage on their level — she’ll be forced to scale down and close the gap, fighting on a level playing field.”

“And you are not alone.” Maelstrom adds. “We have pulled some strings to get you allies which will be invaluable in pursuing Azra and defeating her.” With that he raises a hand, making a beckoning motion with two fingers.

There’s the sound of a door opening, and we turn to see the balcony doorway opening once more. Stepping out onto the balcony is a tall, narrow man with strawberry-red hair, vivant green eyes, and narrow, rectangular glasses; he’s dressed with a certain impeccable sharpness. His black slacks and waistcoat cut a sharp contrast against crimson button-down shirt, with a silky, jet-black tie knotted up to his collar, and a thick, fur-lined greatcoat is draped over it all like a lion’s mane. Stepping out of the way, someone smaller steps onto balcony with him, dressed in jeans, a blouse, and a leather duster that goes down to her ankles. I feel my heart start to slow down when I see the pale blonde hair, and the granite-grey eyes.

It’s Jayta.

I stagger upright, pushing my chair back, while Lysanne gasps beside me. Jayta crosses the gap in a couple of seconds, grabbing me in a hug, and I don’t know what to say; all I can do is return her hug as she holds me tightly.

“Whu… what are you doing here?” I stutter after a moment.

Jayta finally loosens her rib-breaking embrace, pulling back a little and wiping her eyes with her palm. “Sorry.” she chokes out, smiling through tears. “It’s been so long, and I’ve missed you. Ever since the, uh, the thing at Azra’s place, I’ve been worried about you and I wasn’t sure how you were doing…”

“How are you here?” Lysanne says, standing up and grabbing Jayta, looking her over. “When we went back to New Aurescura, your mother told us that you went missing over a year ago. Where have you been?”

“Oh that, it’s, uh, it’s kind of a long story, I can tell you later.” Jayta says, freeing an arm to hug Lysanne as well. “It’s good to see you too. How’s Mom doing?”

“She’s doing fine; the coven’s taking care of her.” I say, noticing thorny black vine marks encircling her neck, like some sort of tattoo. “How did you get here? Did… did they—” I start to motion towards Maelstrom and Radiance.

“We did not bring her here. She is actually here because her Lord has been tasked with oversight of this conflict.” Maelstrom, motioning hand to the tall redhead behind Jayta. “This is Raikaron Syntaritov, the Lord of Regret. The Gathering has appointed him as overseer of the Tirsigal matter, and he will the one supporting your group as you all pursue Azra.”

There’s a sudden fit of coughing behind us; I look around to see that Ozzy’s choking on his fruit tart, bracing an arm on the table as he catches his breath. “I’m sorry, did you say Syntaritov?” he wheezes.

Raikaron’s only response is to twitch up the corner of his mouth slightly. Radiance slides a glass of water over to Ozzy as she answers. “He is functioning as a representative of the Gathering — he does not represent the interests of any heaven, hell, or hypernatural. His mandate is to protect the innocent and ensure that Azra’s bloodshed remains confined to Tirsigal. And since you all will be helping stop Azra, you will be able to work together with him.”

“Wait, if the Gathering’s assigned him to protect people and keep Azra contained, then what do you need us for?” Lysanne demands. “Just have him do it!”

“If I arrest Azra, I am obligated to return her to the Gathering to stand trial for her actions on Tirsigal.” Raikaron say, idly examining his fingernails. “Whereas if you and your friends defeat Azra and free Kayenta from her possession, Azra’s seal will ensure she is cast back into the Maelstrom, which is under the jurisdiction of the Rantheon.” His brilliant green eyes flick up to us after that, one eyebrow arched.

“Ohhhhhh.” Milor says with the long drawl of a slow realization. “So that’s the game that’s being played. Okay. It’s starting to come together now.”

“You want us to help her dodge punishment for murdering billions of people?” Lysanne demands, looking at Maelstrom and Radiance.

“No no, she will be punished!” Jayta says quickly.

“We plan on punishing our daughter for what she’s done.” Maelstrom affirms. “But not to the extent that is being demanded by the Collective.”

“Which would be effectively killing her, and we’re not going to stand by and let that happen.” Radiance says. “Especially not after everything the Collective’s gotten away with over the last thirteen thousand years. Nobody’s ever punished them for the hundreds of planets they’ve assimilated since the Serenity War. We don’t feel that it’s right that our daughter should risk the death penalty for having the courage to stand up and push back.”

I rub a knuckle over my brow. “I don’t care about any of that.” I suddenly blurt out. I’ve stayed mostly quiet, sitting through all of this, and by this point I’m just tired of it. I don’t care about the politics, or the intrigue, or the rest of it. “Kaya didn’t want any of this. She didn’t ask for any of this. She hasn’t done anything wrong. I don’t care what Azra’s done, or what the Gathering wants, or what the Collective’s pissed off about. I just want Kaya back. That’s all that matters to me and that’s the only thing I care about. How do we get her back?”

Silence settles over the table as I finish speaking; it looks like some of the higher powers are starting to wind up a response, but Milor lets his spoon clink in his bowl as he straightens up in his chair. “Kid’s got a point.” he says, adjusting his widebrimmed hat. “I’m sure y’all got a lot to worry about, since y’all are gods, and you’re dealing with the Collective, and capital-G genocide, and courts, and divine politics, and the Gathering, whatever the hell that’s supposed to be. But us? The four of us right here? We ain’t nothin’ special compared to y’all. We don’t care about none of that big-picture stuff. Ain’t shit we can do about it in most cases, anyway. We’re just tryin’ to get the fox back. That’s the only thing we’re here for, and once we’ve got her back, we’ll be on our way, and y’all can do whatever it is you’re gonna do with the rest of it.”

Maelstrom starts to respond to that, but Radiance puts a hand on his arm. “We understand.” she says to us. “We know we’re putting a lot on you, and we’re asking you to care about things you’ve probably never heard of before, and don’t really understand. We don’t expect you to understand the nuances of the situation, and how it might affect the galaxy in the decades to come. And if you’re only here to save Kayenta and get on with your lives, then that’s enough for us. That’s all we need you to do. We’ll give you the resources and the people you need to do that, and we’ll take care of the rest.”

Milor nods. “Good. I’m glad to hear it. So long as we’ve got that clear, I am onboard. Ozzy, what about you? You onboard with this?”

Ozzy gives another furtive look at Raikaron, then nods. “Y-yeah. Yeah, of course. Getting Kayenta back, that’s what we came here for, right?”

“Good to hear it.” Milor says, swiveling his head towards Lysanne. “Blondie?”

Lysanne rolls her lip under and bites it. “I dunno, Milor. I mean, Azra burned an entire world. And it sounds like we’ll be helping her evade court—”

“Lysanne.” Milor says, gently but firmly. “We didn’t come here to be the genocide police. We came here to rescue Kaya.”

She sighs. “…yeah. I mean… I guess that’s true, yeah. Alright. I’m onboard with it.”

“Great. So we’re all on the same page now.” Milor says, leaning back in his chair. “So why don’t we all sit down, have ourselves a bite to eat, and start figuring out where we go from here. Jazel, get your skinny ass back in the chair and get some food on that plate. I know you’ve been missing meals ever since Kaya got kidnapped. Pull up a chair for your sister too, and introduce us. Ozzy and I have never met her…”

Event Log: Jazel Jaskolka

Cranberry City: The Wildcat Tavern

2:24pm SGT

“So like… how’d you meet her?” Jayta asks, nibbling on a small, bite-sized pecan pie.

“Oh, she was terrorizing a settlement on a frontier world, so we were sent to go deal with her.” I explain, rocking in my chair a little. “We didn’t know what she was until we got to the planet and started looking for her, and once we found out she was a person, we decided against exterminating her.”

“You decided against exterminating her.” Milor reminds me. “Everyone else just wanted it over with as quickly as possible.”

“He’s leaving out that she tried to kill him several times.” Lysanne adds.

I shrug. “I mean, she was half-wild. She didn’t really know any better. Things started to get better once we made a deal and she started living on the ship with us.”

“You said you found her out in the woods — how long had she been out there?” Jayta asks.

I scratch at my knuckles, thinking it over. “At least four centuries? She doesn’t know how long she was out there, but the native tribes on Vissengard said she’d been been there ever since their ancestors crashed on the planet, and that was four centuries ago, according to the records and the archaeologists.”

Jayta’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, she’s… way older than you!” And then, realizing how that sounds, she hastily adds “I mean, not like that’s a bad thing! Like, y’know, you expect the age differences in interspecies dating. Like, Rai’s three thousand years old!”

At that point, everyone’s attention goes to Raikaron, who takes a modest sip from his teacup and largely seems to be unruffled by the sudden attention.

“There ain’t no way.” Milor scoffs, hooking an arm over the back of his chair as he sizes Raikaron up. “This guy? He looks like he’s fresh outta business college. He doesn’t even have a five o’clock shadow and you want me to believe he’s three thousand years old?”

“Well, he is a demon Lord.” Ozzy points out.

“Yeah, yeah, demon lord this, archangel that.” Milor says, flapping a hand. “Guess all you divine and demonic types don’t have to get old and wrinkly like the rest of us.”

“Well, seems like it runs in the family.” Lysanne smiles a little, folding her arms.

I glance at her. “What? What runs in the family?”

“Dating people that are ten times your age or more.” Milor says, turning back to the table and picking up one of the mini pecan pies. “You and your sister got a type, seems like.”

“I’ve seen bigger age gaps.” Jayta scowls, popping the rest of her pecan pie in her mouth as she throws a thumb in Raikaron’s direction. “Besides, he doesn’t do stupid shit as often as guys my age do.”

“Eh. Can’t argue with that.” Milor says, scratching at the scruff along his neck. “A lot of the stupid gets squeezed out of you the older you get. One of the benefits of dating up the age range. Doesn’t rule it out entirely, but you see a lot less of it.”

“Talking from personal experience there?” Lysanne snarks.

“Yeah, but not the way you think, blondie.” Milor says, stretching his arms out over his head. “There’s still plenty o’ stupid left in this frontier boy. But I’ve dated between twenty and two thousand, and whoo boy, you can tell the difference.”

“You’d dated people that are millennia old?” Jayta says, looking surprised.

“Just the one, but she was a vampire. More of a summer fling, back when I was young and dumb.” Milor says, taking his toothpick and using it to dig between his teeth.

“Young witchling.” Sång’s voice breaks through our conversation as she lights on the decking next to our table, turning and extending one of her hands to Maelstrom and Radiance, who had withdrawn to a corner of the balcony to take a call and speak with each other. “The sun, the storm, and the shadow will see you now.”

I straighten up a little in my chair. “Just me?”

“You will be first. The others will have their turn once you have received their blessing.” Sång explains.

“Oh. Okay.” I say, standing up. “I’ll be back, guys.”

I follow Sång over to the corner of the balcony, where Maelstrom and Radiance are sitting on a bench built into the railing. Once Sång has left, Maelstrom makes a beckoning motion with his fingers, and one of the chairs around the near tables lifts and glides over, setting itself down just behind me. I sit down in it, looking at the two hypernaturals expectantly.

“You don’t say much, do you, Jazel.” Maelstrom says, folding his hands back in his lap.

I shrug. “Don’t really have much to say, I guess.”

“I don’t think that’s quite it.” Radiance says, tilting her head at me. “I believe it’s that you don’t speak up unless you have something important to say. At least in the presence of strangers.”

“Yeah, that too.” I agree, tweaking my shoe against the decking a little. Back and forth, a nervous tic. “So like… when you said that we had to cut off Azra’s tails in order to break her possession of Kaya. Does that mean…”

“Kaya will lose her tails, yes.” Radiance says.

I bite my lip, looking down. “…she won’t be happy about that.”

“No, she won’t.” Maelstrom says. “But she can regain them in the standard manner that morphoxes acquire additional tails. And once a morphox has been freed from Azra’s possession, she cannot possess them ever again, even if they acquire another nine tails.”

“So we’ll never have to worry about this happening again?” I ask, looking back up at that.

“Correct. Kaya will be safe from Azra’s influence.” Radiance says. “You will take care of her after she’s freed from Azra, right?”

“Yeah, of course.” The answer is easy, and the question strikes me as odd. “She did the same thing for me after she rescued me from Grimes.”

Maelstrom and Radiance exchange looks, before Maelstrom speaks. “You’re simple and straightforward, Jazel. We appreciate that — there’s nothing complicated about you, or what you want. You’re here to rescue your mate, and that’s all there is to it.”

“It’s honest.” Radiance adds. “We don’t see a lot of that nowadays.”

I nod, since I’m not entirely sure what to say to that. “She means a lot to me.” I say after a brief silence. “And I miss her.”

“If I remember from the last time I checked in with her, you were teaching her to read, weren't you?” Radiance asks.

“Yeah.” I say softly. “Yeah, I was.” Thinking back on that, I start to realize how long ago that was, and how long it’s been since I saw Kaya. More than two months, at this point. “I haven’t really thought about her. I mean, I’ve thought about her, but mostly about what I needed to do to get her back. I haven’t really thought about her specifically, like… what it’s like to sit with her, and the silly things she does, like when she shoves her face into your neck and flops her ears around when she wants attention.” Fidgeting my fingers together, I look down at them as the realizations slowly trickle in. “I think I blocked it out. Avoided thinking about her directly because if I started thinking about those things, I’d realize how much I missed her and that would weigh me down, keep me from focusing about what I needed to do to get her back. I’ve just been kind of numb these last couple of months.” I pause again. “Done things that I would’ve never done otherwise. And now that I’m actually thinking of her again…” Another pause to take in a deep breath, blinking rapidly as I reach up wipe at my eyes with a palm. “I guess I really miss her a lot.”

“You do.” Radiance reaches over, using a thumb to wipe away one of the tears that has escaped my eyes. Her touch is warm, in that it literally generates warmth that spreads through my skin on contact; the kind of comforting heat you get from planting your face in a bundle of laundry fresh out of the dryer. “And that means you love her. I believe you when you say you’ll take care of her after she’s freed from Azra.”

With that, she tilts her hand, pressing a thumb to my forehead. The hairs on the back of my neck rise as I feel the warm glow encircle my head, forming a halo; for a brief moment, I feel numinous and weightless, like I’m about to float out of my body. I’ve never felt anything like it before; it’s like being crowned with a star’s coronasphere, or having your veins filled with sunlight. Everything’s warm, from the toes to the tips of my ears.

“You have my blessing.” Radiance says, taking her thumb away from my forehead, and the warmth fades with it, though there’s still a lingering echo of it in my bones. “It will last until Azra has been returned to the Maelstrom. I know you’re not afraid of her, but this should give your courage a sure footing to stand on.”

I reach up, brushing my fingers over the spot where Radiance’s thumb had been. It feels like there’s a warm mark there, one that’s likely fading from view. “I’ll do my best to get Kaya back. Do you…” I fidget a little, unsure of how to phrase this next part. “…do you have any advice for how I should… deal with her? Azra, that is. Like, the coven taught me how to hunt in the woods, but I’m not really, like… a soldier. I don’t really know much about fighting.”

“You are already amply capable.” Maelstrom says, lacing his fingers together. “My seraphs have told me that you have already liquidated an estate containing a black market baron and his staff while trying to track down Kaya. Take that determination, cleverness, and brutality, and bring it to your confrontations with Azra. Your coven taught you to hunt, and Azra is a fox. Go hunt her.”

I blink a couple times. “But isn’t she also your daughter…?” I say, a little taken aback by how Maelstrom’s casual encouragement.

“She is, and I love her dearly.” Maelstrom says, his sleek black tail lazily flicking up onto the gap on the bench between him and Radiance. “That being said, I am also fully aware that she is the hypernatural embodiment of tyranny, and as the goddess of tyranny she can be quite a bully — alternatively, she can also be quite sly and manipulative. You should not hold back against her, because she will not be giving you the same courtesy. She will do whatever she can, within the boundaries of the seal’s restrictions, to defeat any heroes we send after her.”

“I don’t think that was the kind of advice he was looking for, rumbles.” Radiance says, reaching down and snagging Maelstrom’s tail to keep it still. “If you remember nothing else about Azra, remember this: she is stubborn, and arrogant, and proud. Of all the enemies she has made for herself — and she has many — the worst one out of the lot is herself.”

I nod, letting those words sink in. “It must run in the family.” I observe, and then when Maelstrom raises an eyebrow, I quickly clarify. “Not like that! It’s just that Kaya is also those things sometimes. Stubborn and proud and arrogant. Not like, to the extent that Azra is. But Kaya doesn’t like admitting when she’s wrong, and often she thinks she’s better than other people. So it seems like it runs in the family a bit…”

“They get it from their father.” Radiance says matter-of-factly.

Maelstrom rolls his lightning-blue eyes. “I am proud, but not to the extent of refusing to acknowledge my faults, which is Azra’s primary failing. She simply cannot admit when she is wrong, and it will continue to make things difficult for her until she learns the value of humility and reflection. But her failings of character are your advantages — remember them, and you will find you have multiple avenues for dealing with her. Now go run and grab your friend Lysanne for us — we would like to speak to her next.”

“Oh, I just remembered, Cat.” Radiance says quickly. “It was supposed to be a group of five, right? There were only four that showed up.”

I’d started to get up, but I realize what they’re talking about. “Oh, you’re probably talking about Dandy. She had to stay with the ship at the orbital starport. We’re resupplying here, but the starport won’t let you leave a ship unattended during resupply.”

“Ah. Yes, that doesn’t surprise me.” Maelstrom muses. “She is a Cyber though, correct? Does she reside within the ship’s computer infrastructure, or does she reside within a hardframe?”

“Both, actually. But the starport requires an actual hardframe be present during resupply, in case they need a crew member to manually access certain parts of the ship, or perform certain manual actions that can’t be done digitally.” I explain.

Radiance looks at Maelstrom. “We need her down here to receive our blessing. It’ll be dangerous for her to face Azra without it.”

“Well, it’s dangerous for her to face Azra even with it, but I get what you’re saying.” Maelstrom agrees. “I’ll send Sång up with a couple of seraphs to watch the ship while she while she brings the Cyber down. In the meantime, Jazel, if you could send Lysanne over — we’ll speak to her next.”

“And Jazel?” Radiance says as I turn to go. “Thank you for taking care of Kayenta. We’re glad to know that she’s found someone that can handle her and take care of her.”

I smile and nod. “She’s worth taking care of.” With that, I start to make my way back to the others, feeling warm and reassured as I go.

Knowing you have the approval of your mate’s parents does a lot to set your mind at ease.

Event Log: Lysanne Arrignis

Cranberry City: Scenic Overlook

8:48pm SGT

“A little cold to be out here this time of night, don’t you think?”

The words grab my attention, and even though I recognize the voice, I still look over my shoulder. Crossing to the overlook railing is Radiance, her jacket zipped up and hands tucked into the pockets. Though it’s fairly muted, she does seem to be giving off a faint glow — being a sun goddess, I imagine it’s hard to completely mask the light she gives off.

“The cold helps me clear my mind.” I say, turning my attention back over the railing. The overlook is situated on the city’s edge, looking over the peninsula to the southwest. Below, tangled lines of light wind away from an tight-packed grid structure that make up the suburbs saturating the peninsula’s tip. “Although, now that you’re here, it doesn’t feel so cold. I guess you were the one that was keeping the balcony warm back at the tavern.”

“I figured it would be more comfortable for you all that way.” Radiance answers as she arrives next to me, staring over the railing. “Did you need some time away from the rest of your friends?”

“Yeah. Needed some time to unwind and process, and Ozzy being a tourist was… just getting on my nerves.” I say, unzipping my coat now that the immediate area has become much warmer.

“Yes, he’s quite… enthusiastic about Rantecevang.” Radiance agrees. “Kayenta did tell me there was a necromancer in your group, but he was not exactly what I had in mind. Mind you, I say that as someone that fought my fair share of necromancers when I was still mortal, but he… how do I put this. He has a… certain lack of ambition, doesn’t he?”

“That’s one way to put it.” I say. “Dealing with him’s a pain in the ass sometimes, but it’s more of an annoyance than anything else. I’ll take that over an ambitious necromancer any day.” Reaching back, I pull out my ponytail and start to redo it to capture more of my hair, and keep it from blowing in the wind. “Guess you’re out here to check on me or something?”

“Cat wanted me to check on you and make sure you weren’t too bothered by his blessing.” Radiance says. “His blessings are usually rougher than mine, since his power is more volatile.”

“Well, he is the storm god, so no surprises there.” I sigh. “And he’s in charge of darkness too, isn't he? Storm and shadow. How come he gets to be the manifestation of two natural forces, while you only get one?”

Radiance looks away from me, out across the sea of artificial stars dotting the peninsula below us. “It’s not something he wanted, being the god of shadows. That was something his older brother planned on doing. If everything had gone the way he wanted, Cat would only be the god of storms.”

“What happened?” I ask. “Did his older brother get tired of being the god of shadows, and pass it down to Maelstrom?”

“No. Cat killed him.” Radiance says. “His brother, Roka, helped orchestrate Rantecevang’s first world war back when we were all still mortal. Roka planned on ascending to become the next god of shadows once the war was over.”

“Oh.” I say quietly. I hadn’t been expecting that. “So… he ascended in his brother’s place after killing him?”

“The alternative would've been to release the Heart of Shadows back into Rantecevang at large.” Radiance says, and upon noticing the confusion on my face, takes a hand out of jacket to conjure a little construct of light that forms a collection of gemlike stones over her palm. “On Rantecevang, the Hearts are fragments of dead deities. The crystallization of a god’s essence. They’re extremely powerful, and apotheosis on Rantecevang usually requires that you have one to fuse with. Mine was the Heart of the Sun, and Cat’s was the Heart of the Storm. Roka’s was the Heart of Shadows, but after he killed his brother, Cat took the Heart of Shadows. He knew he couldn’t leave it to be found by another — a lot of wars on Rantecevang have been fought over the Hearts. Ascending would’ve meant that he would’ve had to relinquish the Heart of Shadows if he didn’t fuse with it, and since we’d just ended Rantecevang’s first world war, Cat refused to leave behind something that would start another war. Cities had been razed and governments overthrown. A lot of people died, and he didn’t want the bloodshed to keep going after he was gone. So he accepted the responsibility of being the god of shadows, along with being the god of storms.”

I lean my forearms on the overlook railing. “I mean… I feel like there’s worse things than having to double up on godhood.”

“If you asked Cat whether he’d rather be the god of shadows or if he’d rather have his brother back, I could tell you which one he would pick every time.” Radiance says, letting the images above her hand fade away as she tucks it back in her pocket. “That being said, I am glad that he killed his brother. Roka was a major dick, just for the record. He slept with Cat’s childhood crush, who also happened to be the bitch who stole the Heart of the Storm from Cat and almost burned down their village with it when they were kids. Both of them got what was coming to them in the end, but it took a decade and a half, and just about ruined Cat’s life in the meantime.”

“Oh. Wow.” I say awkwardly, not sure what to say to all that. “That’s, uh… that’s a lot.”

“Yeah. Still, even for all that, Cat still wishes he hadn’t had to kill his brother. But when your brother starts a world war, and you have to be the one that ends it…” Radiance shrugs. “I suppose my point is that family’s complicated. You can hate and love them at the same time; miss them and despise them all at once. It’s messy. That was the case seventeen thousand years ago, and it’s still the case now, except now it’s our daughter that’s stirring up shit.” She grimaces a little. “Suppose your friend Jazel had a point.”

That gets my attention. “He did?”

“He made a comment earlier about how pride and arrogance and stubbornness runs in the family. It was an offhand remark, but I think he hit a lot closer to the mark than we were willing to admit.” Radiance sighs. “I often wonder what we could’ve done differently as parents when it comes to Azra. I know we taught her how to be a good person, taught her that we’re all part of something bigger, and we need to give back to the wider community that we’re part of; taught her that godhood is earned, not given. And we practiced what we preached, set the example that we wanted to see followed, and still…” She takes a deep breath in, and blows it out. “…you do the best you can to raise a good kid, and they still turn into a demon goddess, and then someone says that it runs in the family, and after what her uncle tried to do, you can’t help but think that maybe they’re right. Maybe there is something to it.”

I don’t really have anything to say to that. There’s not much I think I could say to it — I’m not a parent, and I don’t have the experience that Radiance has had. Listening to her talk about it, though, I’m starting to see that her relationship with Azra is more complicated than it appears on the surface. There’s something about it that’s very… mortal, very imperfect and flawed.

“I didn’t expect that you all would be so much like us.” I say after a moment. “I thought you were going to be all high and mighty. Beings from a higher plane of existence that would think that mortals are petty and fleeting. But you talk like us, you act like us, you have the same kinds of problems that we mortals do. Just… on a bigger scale, it feels like.”

Radiance shrugs. “Well, we are young gods. A lot of us in the Rantheon are less than twenty thousand years old. Other gods can be millions or even billions of years old. Over time, gods can drift away from mortals, become strange or eccentric or aloof. But a lot of us do stay close to mortals, because we were once mortal ourselves, and some of us draw our power from mortals. It’s true that in many respects, we are different from mortals. But we are also more similar to you than many of you realize.”

I’m not sure why, but hearing that is reassuring. “And there’s really nothing you could do to fix this yourself?” I ask. I know I’ve already asked this in a couple different ways before, but some part of me is desperate to hear a different answer, to be told that we don’t have to worry about this, and someone else will fix it for us.

“If we could’ve, then we wouldn’t have summoned you and your friends.” Radiance says, turning away from the railing. “If Cat and I were allowed to deal with this directly, then we would’ve done so already. It would certainly be a lot more efficient than getting mortals to do it for us. But the law prevents us; it’s similar to how the parents of a teenage criminal might want to both shield and punish their child, but all they can do is help with making court and legal representation arrangements. That’s the position that Cat and I are in right now — all we are allowed to do is argue our daughter’s case in the Gathering and try to make arrangements to get her remanded back to our jurisdiction. It may seem a little strange or backwards to you, but we need your help. If we could’ve done this on our own, we would’ve done it already.”

I sigh, rolling my lip under my teeth. It wasn’t the answer I wanted, but at least it was an answer that made sense. “Yeah. I understand. I guess… we’ll just have to do the best we can.”

Radiance glances at me. “You’re scared of her.”

I snort. “Can you blame me? She just torched an entire world.”

“Yeah. But she won’t be allowed to bring the full extent of her power to bear against you and your friends. And Raikaron will be there to monitor and ensure she is not dealing unfairly.” Radiance says. “There will still be danger, but it will be to a level that you, as mortals, will be able to handle. If you’re still worried, perhaps this will help a little.”

She lifts a hand, a glimmer of light coalescing into a shimmering, marble-sized orb between her forefinger and her thumb. When she offers it to me, I reach out and take it carefully, feeling it ripple between the tips of my fingers. “What is it?” I ask, letting it rest in my palm.

“That was my favorite spell when I was mortal.” she explains, smiling. “Explosion.”

I give her an alarmed look.

“Don’t worry. It won’t detonate until you’re ready to cast it.” she says, tucking her hand back in her jacket pocket. “I vaporized a lot of enemies with that spell. That one has a particular kick to it, since it’s my own variation. It won’t destroy Azra by any stretch of the imagination, but it will certainly knock her flat and have her seeing stars for a little while.”

“Oh. Okay.” I say, handling the spell carefully because I am effectively holding a bomb in the palm of my hand. “I’m not sure it’ll solve all our problems, but it’s nice to have.”

“I figure having an ace up your sleeve will make things a little easier for you.” she says as she completes another quarter turn, facing away from the railing as she prepares to leave. “I know you’re not really a fan of hypernaturals, and since you grew up on Aurescura, that’s understandable. We’re not perfect, and some of us aren’t good. But as a mother, your help means a lot to me. I don’t know if you’ll have the chance to stand in my shoes one day, but if you do, I hope all of this will make sense at that point.”

She heads off with that, and I just give a quiet nod and a “Good night.” As she goes, the warmth that was permeating the area slowly fades, the winter chill returning. I tuck the shimmering spell sphere into my coat, and zip it up as I turn back to the railing, staring out across the glittering peninsula below. Radiance’s words cycle around in my head, their honesty and simplicity gnawing at me.

I had figured that turning down an order from the gods would be easy. But a mother’s request for help?

Not so much.