Isran didn’t panic at the feeling of disconnect from her body, or the unfamiliar room. It was the second time she had died. It got old after a while.

  She was lying on the ground, staring up at the multitude of gaxies above her. If it was the st thing she saw she wouldn’t hate it. Swirling forms of numerous different colors shone down at her. Some moving and others pulsing almost like a beacon. She wondered if they were just visual representations or if she willed it enough she could unch herself into one of the gaxies suns’ and end her frustrating existence.

  She moved her fingers slightly, the ground beneath her incorporeal form felt like snow, but almost freakishly cked temperature of any kind. She could feel but not feel, smell but not smell. It was always a trippy experience. She would take it over bleeding out for a third time, that was for sure.

  “Oh don’t be like that.”

  Isran ignored Sephia. There was no point trying to say anything. She didn’t get a choice. Never did. And when it felt like she was getting a choice she quickly regretted what came after. Everything was divinely crafted. It was a lesson she had learnt a long time ago.

  Vycor’s voice sounded in her head. Even in intangible form she could feel a headache. She hated when Vycor did that.

  “It’s nice to see you again Isran.”

  Isran ignored them, maybe—just maybe—if she did it long enough they would leave her alone to wither away. Sephia’s long strawberry blonde hair floated in the corner of Isran’s vision. The smell of spring, roses and strawberries made her head swim.

  “Are you just going to ignore us forever?”

  Isran was already doing that. She also knew the gods could read her mind. They were being intentionally daft and Isran found she no longer cared. She found their pretense of respect for boundaries frustrating at best and infuriating at worst.

  Sephia sighed one of her sighs. A sigh that meant she was getting frustrated. It always amused Isran how petunt the gods acted. For beings that had lived long they were rather impatient and childish.

  “And just who are you calling childish.” A cool finger poked the side of her head. The feeling of temperature for the first time since she had died made her flinch.

  “Leave me alone.”

  “You cannot wallow in self pity forever.”

  “It’s not self pity. I’m mourning… again.”

  Sephia grumbled. “Well that isn’t our fault.”

  Isran wanted to roll her eyes so hard she died from them popping out of her intangible skull.

  She hated how she was in whatever pne of existence this was. Sad but uncaring. Sometimes when Isran had the time to ponder she wondered if without her caring for those she loved she was the same person at all. Sometimes she decided it didn’t matter.

  “We apologize for our distance in your second life. Do over?” Vycor and that annoying skill she had.

  Isran just wanted to wallow… alright maybe she was feeling a good helping of self pity.

  “I don’t think I’m in the mood for another life right now. You’ve traumatized me enough don’t you think?”

  “One st shot. We will be as removed or as involved as you want and give you gifts to help make your life easier.”

  Isran squeezed her eyes shut. With her feeling of detachedness from her previous loved ones the proposition was both tempting and annoying.

  “No.”

  “A few millennium for you to think on it then.”

  Isran rolled her eyes. “Sure, go find someone else to bother.”

  Gods made for the worst acquaintances.

  A strong urge hit Isran then. “I want to smoke.” She whispered.

  “You can smoke in your new life.” Sephia said, her voice more excited, trying to find ways to push Isran to see her side.

  “I can also smoke here.” Isran grumbled.

  A warmth overtook her and an irritated sigh fell from her lips. “Leave me alone Hipettime.”

  The feeling vanished. The goddess of hearth was always trying to soothe her, Isran couldn’t decide whether she found it comforting or maniputive. Best to not allow it at all.

  “At least someone here respects my wishes.”

  There was no answer, the other gods had left.

  Isran closed her eyes again. She couldn’t sleep in the godly pne. Her soul did not yet need rest. That irritated Isran.

  Had she not lived plenty enough to satisfy her gluttonous soul? And even if she hadn’t, why had she promised to live her life to the fullest. Everything still felt empty. After two lives nothing felt completely accomplished, satisfactory, filling.

  Several dead companions, lovers, family. Cities ravaged, war, battles, different bodies. What was it all for? She had lived plenty, she could feel deep down in her gut that she was not satisfied.

  Maybe a third life… one st shot wouldn’t be the worst thing. Did she really want to dissolve into the ether knowing she hadn’t earned that eternal rest?

  She shook her head and blinked a few times before pushing herself up. What had she looked like in her first life? She found it hard to remember much from it, a few, a face of a lover, the cry of a child, not much else.

  The comforting warmth came again and this time Isran let it happen.

  The small fireball that was the goddess of the hearth floated up to her, that soft echo-y voice spoke slowly. “Why don’t you come take a bath sweetheart.”

  Isran couldn’t have said no to that if she tried. Her shoulders drooped and heart heavy, she silently stood and followed goddess. They passed by a few other forms, most of them vaguely human. Isran wondered if the were exited for their new lives.

  Liquam was in the hot tub. The water was pink, several flower leaves floating on top. The water god scratched faintly at his gills and smiled at Isran. He didn’t say anything—never did.

  Hipettime floated away and out of the room that housed the bath tubs, she kept her calming influence on Isran though.

  Isran closed her eyes, letting the foreign feeling of calm rex her, the heavenly pink water move against her.

  A body entered the hot tub beside her, Isran smelt her before she heard her.

  “How are you feeling?”

  Sephia was a strange goddess, Isran had given up trying to understand her a long time ago. Sometimes it was just mood swings she guessed. No need to stress over it.

  “Calm.”

  Sephia hummed and pulled Isran closer to her then started massaging her scalp.

  They remained like that for a few minutes before Vycor’s voice disrupted the calm

  “Changed your mind?”

  Isran held back her groan and blinked a few times, the words so loud in her head.

  “Stop doing that Vycor. I know you can speak out loud.”

  In the fttest voice ever the god responded back. “And where is the fun in that.”

  Isran almost rolled her eyes at Sephia’s giggle, the goddess of love pushed her away slightly and got out of the tub then vanished into a puff of purple smoke.

  “Go bother your wife Vycor.”

  The god tilted their head, a small smile on their lips. “She asked me to come convince you again.”

  Isran let the groan out this time. She guessed Sephia had been buttering her up for the conversation she was in. “Why?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Why does she want me to try again. Every life ends in death, for me, for those I love, for those I take care of. Am I some curse? Or are you lot just cruel enough to want me to dance for you till I can no longer.”

  “You give our cruelty too much credit… Maybe we don’t want to see you give up.”

  Isran got out of the bath tab—no concept of nudity existed for her current form—she still grabbed one of the hanging robes and turned her head to look at the genderless god. An interesting mix of handsome and beautiful as well as everything in between.

  “And what do I get to do in this new life? Love hard and loose everything again?”

  “Fate is a tricky thing, you of all souls should know even gods are subject to her will.”

  Isran did know, it didn’t make it any less annoying.

  “You gonna send me as a half beast again? Primed to be sughtered?”

  “That was a mistake.”

  Isran still didn’t believe that, but she wasn’t going to press it.

  “I want to eat here before you cart me off. Might be the st time I get to.”

  Vycor nodded and started walking away. Isran followed without much fanfare.

  The golden fruits of the godly pne were rather bnd and cking in fvor, cooked food was always better with the gods, their domains influencing the end result.

  “You never enjoy the fruits, but you always eat them.”

  “Hmm.” Isran continued chewing the golden apple. “An acquired taste.”

  Vycor hummed in humor.

  When she was done with her fruits Isran sighed loudly. “I need you to promise me something.”

  Vycor nodded.

  “When I die in this life you let me pass on, whether I’m ready or not.”

  Vycor seemed to hesitate for a few seconds. “You have my word.”

  Isran finished the rest of her full and then nodded. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

  Vycor nodded. “Any special requests?”

  Isran shook her head. “Do your worst.”