Fohrsdee, the 24th of Frost, 768 A.E.

  Amidst the whirl of light and the endless debate of the divine, a conversation came to the attention of the collective group. Some voices remained silent, but all listened.

  “Why is she being taken away from her task?” Maletos demanded.

  “She must be made to wait and gather he strength. She is not yet ready.” Haestos replied, ever the calming half to his wife’s impatience and decisiveness.

  Maletos sighed and regarded her husband with a kindness that she reserved for him. She was calmer when she asked, “When will she be? The change of Saysuhns will grant her fresh bloom. Her strength will be greatest then.”

  “Should she not confront her enemies then, if she is so strong then?” Cainel asked, eager for the conflict to begin in earnest. The feints and the subtle ploys among the people of the world were just beginning to get interesting, promising much more, and he was growing anxious.

  “Strength will not win out. The growth of her beauty and vibrancy of her during the Saysuhn of red will be the most opportune time for her to begin her confrontation.” Elecin announced, looking up from his mirror that saw portions of the future.

  “What of the Lost Ones? Will the usurper be able to call them back? Porceth and Wainseth are no doubt hoping for that.” Kaneitha said coldly, her features dark and her expression grave, befitting for the Goddess of Shadows and Darkness.

  “Who can tell?” Thuraish wondered aloud, his form presently that of an old man. “Even we have limitations to what we can see. Their arrival may add unforeseen complications to our goals.” As he finished speaking, his body shifted to that of an infant.

  “A cryptic reply from Thuraish… How typical.” Juria remarked haughtily, her lustrous locks of dark hair swinging about her perfect neck and shoulders as she shook her head. She cast occasional glances over at Haestos, and dark looks at Maletos when she did not seem to be looking.

  Thuraish shifted from his infant form into the toddler as he replied, “I see what I see.”

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  “The land’s children are more active than I’d like.” Ocel said with a grunt. He leaned lazily on his shepherd’s crook.

  Juria laughed, a sound like liquid gold, pleasant to the ears. “You’re just jealous that they never fell into worshipping you or Rishalt.”

  Rishalt licked his bestial lips and regarded Ocel, whom he regarded as a peer in some ways. He paused a moment to regard Juria with a mixture of unveiled interest and disdain. “No, I don’t like that their powers come from somewhere other than us. They are an unpredictable variable in this equation.”

  “Her powers are not entirely from us, so is she not like them at least in part? We supply but a part of what she will use. In some ways, she is beyond our control even now, perhaps more so in the future.” Gandahar surmised, earning a nod from his wife Sellae.

  “True enough, but we can all agree that part is better than none.” Maletos commented officially, deciding once again the position of the group. “Perhaps it is time we made ourselves known.”

  “As if Tulis and Marceaupo haven’t already with the storm that covered their retreat from Maethlin? Fallu, too, showed himself to the Mueran.”

  “You can’t forget that I have touched the Rumani either. His strengths are yet undiscovered.” Comrain announced.

  “Why you bothered with a Rumani, I do not know. You will just give credence to the Uman myth if you create a hero in him.” Vorcinth said boredly, the bells on his hat jingling as he spoke.

  “I don’t want to hear that name.” Greveth growled and Vorcinth, making him cower a bit, though he winked at her afterward.

  “Enough!” Maletos said in irritation. “Uman’s myth and the land’s children are of no matter right now. We must strengthen her and her companions to fight my wayward children, whether the Lost Ones return to aid them or not.”

  “Your slaves you mean?” Juria muttered snidely. She never missed a chance to remind Maletos that the Aureans worshipped her only because of the affliction she’d cursed them with.

  Maletos regarded Juria, her greatest critic, with contempt. “Someday I will tire of your little jibes.”

  “Can’t we focus on the task at hand?” Oria pleaded, ever the peacemaker.

  Juria’s hasty and cutting reply was cut off when Haestos favored her with a displeased look. She smiled warmly at him and quieted for his sake.

  “Let me be the first to go to them.” Rishalt offered. He was ever eager to get involved with the humans and the animals he oversaw as a father figure.

  “No,” Yenis said, her voice radiating cold, “it is my place to go. They are within my lands. I will go first.”

  “And so it begins, but who will follow?” Elecin asked, but in his tone, there was a hint of withheld knowledge.

  The conversation went on; various semantics and theories were explored. The divine had all the time in the world to consider the minutiae and no reason not to. Before they were done, they’d look at it in a thousand ways only to review them again later.