"Shouldn't be too hard to find." I tell myself quietly, the irony of my recent experience not lost on me. Heading on outside, I find myself in a fancy flower garden. A bush of red roses at its preeminent centre. Lingering my focus on the pretty things, I start to think of Rose-sweerui. A chuckle builds up in my throat, afflicting my chitters with joyous taps.
I should pick a rose for Rose!
But, at the same time, I do not want to given how much that will probably mean to her. Given her name and all its meaning and all. Born under or around the rose, it doesn't matter. She'll find a way to blow it out of proportion. I know she will. At the same time, though, I would like to see the smile when I hand her a freshly picked flower.
Leaning forward to sniff them, my mask knocks a thorny branch aside.
"Try to remember you are wearing a mask..." I snark at myself, moving a claw ahead to pinch the stem of a flower. A relatively fine cut. Catching the delicate thing, I carefully cradle my palm around it, my digits not going too firmly down. Moving my focus away, I note how this is probably not the way out of the estate. So, I turn back and return indoors.
Knowing I am probably not going to be going back in through another way, I leave the flower on a small table. Under a vase where it hopefully won't be thrown away or sent off. Remembering the actual entrance, I head on out and go down the steps into town. The night sky above has encouraged quite the change in the way the place looks. Squares of light pattern themselves across the stone houses. Street lamps flicker in all but the back alleys.
My eyes linger now and then whenever I see a noisy pair running down the streets. Night has brought with it a lot of quiet that wasn't here before, so it's all sticking out more. Even any arguments that are breaking out have a forced hush to them. My mind wanders, and my trailing claw doesn't help as it glides along the public flower displays.
How exactly is this thing between me and Rose-sweerui going to go ahead? She wants us to be together and I am even encouraging it by calling her by this damn honorific. But, I have no investment with her; I do not feel the same way. She's just a friend.
Maybe my future has something else planned for me. I might give the affection back to her in an equal or greater amount. I live in the now, though, not the future and I do not know what to do. If I keep up with the 'sweerui's', then I am just being cruel if nothing comes of it. I may not love her, she however does clearly love me. Or, at the very least, has a very open and favourably sexual opinion of me.
Or, did, maybe...?
"Eugh, aelenvari." I complain under my breath, shifting my mind from anything buggish in that instant. I focus on how odd it feels to walk through this town right now. Ever since I've left Tobaballe, I've not actually been in a developed space populated by what appears to be regular people. Vapooliar's strength makes her almost something else and the aelenvari are so different it's easy to forget. Even Vadei has her tail and fur.
Compared to home, however, this place has an unnatural beauty to it. The skies are open. The only thing rising above my head is the mountains and clouds. Nights back home were barren of natural allure, the towering city blocking it out, mostly. Here, though, it's not higher than a human hand's worth of stories.
Most do not even go beyond what a claw can show... Three.
Even Brewbrt's home is high only because it's built on an immense construction attached to the mountain behind it. All these sights, each one a different shop and home and place of work. And, well, I have no work to get up for, no wages to earn. My time is free and I might as well spend a lot of it with Rose-sweerui. Maybe even Einervaene, if she is serious about sticking around with us.
I hope she does and I cannot see why she wouldn't want to. We're both headed the same way, though, maybe not on the same time. Besides, she could use the company given her travels thus far. And I could use the extra person to balance out Rose-sweerui's behaviour.
Would be nice to travel with someone who probably had a more familiar sense of perception. Even if that isn't really the case, I'm sure it's understandable. Einervaene's perspective and all. If it's destined to end at Suhurlodst, then that is fine by me. Vapooliar will be within reach by that point.
I huff, amused by recent thoughts. Who knows, maybe this Einervaene would be the one I actually fall in love with? Something interesting will happen regarding Rose-sweerui and that'll be that. I try to laugh at the thoughts, following the trail of cartoonish humour rather than a grim likelihood.
And I fail at the attempt. The cruel future is what my mind refuses to let go of. I sigh heavily. Guess I am becoming quite the pessimist as of late.
A large, shadow-covered building comes into view, built against the mountain like Brewbrt's home. Possibly carved deep into as well, somewhat. So far from home, one thing remains a constant in life: the will of the divine. I know I've found the temple. A Temple of the Divine Entirety.
Laughter gently erupts from me as the stories take on new clarity. Some people doubt the truth of the texts as we all understand how one whisper is not the same to everyone. But, here we are, I am, rather. Standing before the proof that the gods did indeed say 'build and worship us the same, no matter where.'
Moving up, I slip a key into the lock and luckily undo it with a satisfying click. Quickly noting the key, I close my claw. Quietly going inside, I look around at all the familiar trappings. A place so alike I can almost pretend I am still home in Tobaballe. Well, were it not for one thing anyway, something that makes me think of Vapooliar again.
"She did say something about a moon, didn't she? I guess this is the proof I need to stop doubting her. People really do worship the Lunar Gods out here." I mutter, walking towards the central, circular chamber within the otherwise squarish building. My eyes follow some decorative metal until it ends in a circular frame. The current dominant moon rests partially within. I guess the frame has a lens built in. The moon is so close and detailed.
A distant art piece that so far in my life I have only been able to admire at a far off distance. Not much has changed, but now I can inspect it much deeper than before. The ceiling also has a handy display showing all fourteen of the moons. One of which takes the crowning first-amongst-equals. Without a shadow of a doubt...
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
Jhrarda the Mighty.
"I have no idea what that one is, actually..." I then remark, pointing at the one currently in view. The foreign script is certainly not helping things either. It's not even the same from before as well, it's something entirely new. Whatever tongue it is, it's only present on anything religious. The wooden displays and signs are all in the typical tongue of these 'Jherikra' people.
Frowning in thought at the moon, I shake my head.
"I ain't here for you, Moon God." I say to the distant prison beyond the sky. Going off, I keep my eyes open wide for any signs of Motrtha's stuff. Using my bracelet as a reference, I try to jog my memory of her typical symbolism and assorted details. A smile grows on my face. It grows wider and wider, firmly set and never to leave.
Walking up to the shrine, I look at how the workers modelled her. The clothes aren't accurate to what she wore on the ship at all. Not in that city, either. However, the face is scarily accurate. As if the goddess possessed those who hammered and chiselled to ensure no fault came of it.
A quiet moment passes and I slowly raise a claw... Waving it.
"Hello again, Motrtha... Th-Thanks for the tart." I thank the statue, my cheeks burning a bit. Am I talking only to a statue or is this actually a means to talk to her...? To be honest, though, I do not think I'd ever be able to use a shrine, temple or what have you without acting this way. Not with what I now know and have experienced. Not long with them all, but how does one forget talking to a god?
It's impossible.
"I... I still don't know why I have this..." I comment, wondering if I am going mad. Rubbing the bracelet she gifted me, I quickly frown at the ghostly image caressing my claw. Shaking my head clear of the surprise, I get down onto the floor and lean against the leg of her statue. My hat comes off, resting on my lap, and the temple keys fill it out. A heavy sigh escapes me as I try to find a hand.
A small sense of closure, I guess... My eyes start to ache at the edges.
"While I am thankful I am alive again, I must know if you can answer, why am I... This...? Why couldn't you bring me back as a human? I'd be fine with the arm, really, but... Not this... Not this..." I choke out, sniffling as water runs along my carapace. At least some of this stress in my life is getting out of me in this moment.
I'm constantly having to hide myself these days. I cannot do anything without being paranoid about the eyes watching me, and how can I not be? I look like a monster. I am physically a notorious predator of the deep dark. This is not living, it's torture...
I thought my revival was meant to be as thanks for helping the gods...? I rescued their lost sibling, Iderim-Ovi, I got him out of that church! So why... Why am I like this now!?
A clear image of the motherly goddess appears before me. Shooting up to my feet, items in claw. My body's fight-or-flight ignites and the fading woman smiles so sweet and innocently. I can hear her feet tap across the stone floor. Her hand reaches out for me and it caresses my masked cheek. The warmth, however, feels like it is touching my very flesh.
The visage disappears, leaving an open letter on the floor. Blinking the confusion away, it comes back in force. The letter, I can actually read it. The writing, it's Tobaballian cuneiform!
Tears drip down my face without end and my claws twitch so much I feel like I am going to tear the delicate paper. It's an apology. She does not know why I am like this. She's letting me know she cannot do much to help. Even now, she might be in big trouble with the Equilibrium for doing this. Interacting with mortals is a sacred law that cannot be broken, possibly not even for me.
The letter has more to it, though.
A glowing light flashes on the paper, and I am overwhelmed with joy and sadness. A sudden surge of motherly sensations imprint themselves across my body. I can feel the warmth of her body holding me, her voice whispering how it will all be ok. I sniffle at the closure, even if it's not the kind I am seeking.
"Thank you, Motrtha... You are too kind..." I mutter, bringing my mask up quickly to clean up my face. Nodding and tucking the letter away, I get going to the other shrines so I can pay my respects. Smiling back at Motrtha's statue, I watch it blush and return to its previous lifeless state.
I am happier now. Some of my concerns are at least lifted right now. It's also easy to occupy my thoughts with a guessing game regarding which gods and goddesses are which. Some are memorable enough to remember based on faces, others with their iconography. Makes me feel special knowing I can recall them based on their faces. I sort of feel like I know who they truly are.
Coming to a stop at perhaps the grandest statue in the divinely unfocused temple, my smile returns. Rising high and shining with gold, a statue of the Thunder God fills my vision. Though it depicts a powerful being, I see more to it. His action is not in the destruction of an evil, but something greater. Creation.
"Now... To give the proper respect to you, Thurnmourer. Saviour of All-Mortals. Though, I suppose I am actually doing this because you're my craft-god." I dryly laugh, kneeling down at the base of the statue. Picking up the little hammer attached to the shrine, I set my awkward grip into something useable. The centre punch follows suit. My eyes quickly chase the metal going up to the roof. Lightning attractors and conductors await their chance to shine, should the weather be right.
Though... I wonder if lightning is still dangerous to me, actually. All this magic in my system has made me practically invulnerable compared to what I was before. Luckily, I suppose, it's nowhere near raining tonight, so I do not have to worry about my curiosity killing me. No sparks to test it, no volts to make Undwote see me again.
Coughing a bit, I get my thoughts in order.
"Three strikes it took you to forge the greatest defender," I begin to recite, "In thanks and to honour you, I shall strike thrice in turn."
Placing the hammer above the punch, I strike it.
"Once to get your attention." I speak.
Striking it again, the mark I've made goes deeper.
"Twice to honour you." I speak.
Striking it the final time, I finish my physical prayer.
"A third time to complete my thanks for you." I speak, finishing the prayer as a whole and putting the tools back. Quickly, I take the pen-like item and write my name on the divinely provided plaque. An abrupt laugh breaks the quiet again as my thoughts come alive with what may happen in the morning. A priest will come in and do his usual routine, only to be baffled by seeing my name. For once, someone here will not be able to read!
Chuckling the thought away, I grab my things and make sure I am leaving the statue nice and tidy. Getting up and tapping my chin, I ponder maybe visiting some of the other shrines before heading back. But, deciding against it, I head back to the entrance, key in claw. I spot Undwote's shrine and stop.
A sense of nervousness wrecks my composure and I look on at the empty room it is in.
"Sorry, Undwote, about not staying dead..." I feel compelled to speak out to the room, catching sight of the rocking chair in the corner. The God of Death welcomes all that comes to him on his rocking chairs. But, looking below it, I spot toys that have been left alone by it. Colourful things sprawled out chaotically. A playful child used this shrine last, I'm sure of it.
God of Death, God of the Cold and so many other haunting, unenjoyable topics.
Those toys help me throw away all those titles. I can only focus on one and it's clearly coming back to me. One of his most well-known roles beyond handling the dead. He is the greatest friend of all mortal life. Undwote-Buhsfryind.
Your Best Friend Undwote...
Nodding my respect to the scorned god, I get going and leave it all behind.
"Now, time to go back. What about you, though?" I tell myself, asking the key what it wants to do as I look at it. Should I return it to Brewbrt as soon as possible? Hand it off to a member of his staff? Should I keep it with me until breakfast in the morning? Or, as he joked, at lunch if I sleep in. Hm.