Masutap had no choice. Though she hated the domain of the Goddess of Order, Meena. Though she hated the expanse of clear sky with four freaking suns! As if one sun wasn't more than enough! And the golden grass, long and wavy that tickled at her legs. And the Goddess herself, with that haughty attitude as if everything was a smear of shit and she was made of gold. But time moved slower in Meena's domain and she needed time, her body was poisoned. She'd heard Orgeeg speak to Dulab, she knew the poison will wear off in a few moments but those moments she couldn't afford. Immobile, incapable of action, she chose inaction, abandoning her body to the Goddess in order to quicken her body's purge of the poison’s toxins, the last thing she saw was the raised blades of the Black Guards descending on her.

She appeared in Meena's domain and took comfort in the movement if her limbs and sighed with relief as she flexed her fingers. Motion, a thing we take for granted. Masutap took in a deep breath and relished the feeling of air filling her lungs. Though she knew the place she was in was the domain of a Goddess, a place forged of order, even the waving grass dancing upon the tag of the cool wind were equidistant from each other. Though she knew that where she was is a separate reality from where she truly was, the tavern where men were moving to dice her to bloody pieces, she relished in the temporary feeling of freedom. The four suns in the sky were also evenly spaced and the pallid brown garment she wore, something she believed mirrored Meena's perception of her, hugged her figure and felt as fitting as a lover's embrace.

"Masutap." The Goddess spoke from behind her, lilting melody of a voice. Masutap didn't turn to face the deity, she went through the mind clearing sequence that placed walls around her thoughts, ensuring her internal monologue had some sense of privacy to it. Though she knew how pointless it all was, she was in Meena's domain. A Goddess so ancient and well versed in all matters order, there is no privacy before such a deity. "You're right there is no privacy here." Meena said, seconding her thoughts.

"I'm about to die." Masutap said.

"And whose fault is that?" Meena asked.

"Mine."

Meena chuckled. "I have to admit, it is a rare sight to see you so humbled."

Masutap fought back the urge to ball her fingers into fists. "Dahli has gone against your wishes, she has created conflict between us hence ensuring your personality is split—"

"And how has she created conflict?" The Goddess asked.

"By attacking me!"

"How did she attack you? Dahli resides in Binoria, clicks away from where you currently are."

Masutap sighed. It was pointless to argue with a deity. It was like trying to mop the ocean back. She turned, facing Meena, taking in the pristine smile the Goddess held that would unnerve the boldest of men. There was satisfaction there, in that gentle curve of the lip. How many times does a God predict something and have it occur? What pleasure does prescience incur? Meena looked at Masutap as if she knew the moment would come. The moment when Masutap was at her mercy, no more stubborn headedness, no more air of arrogance. A humbled human, a thing that enables a Goddess to feel worthy of her supremacy.

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"Look—" Masutap started.

"Bow, mortal." Meena commanded.

Masutap snorted. She'd bowed before, in front of the man who'd fathered her and sentenced her and her mother to a life of turmoil and pain. And she'd vowed to destroy all that he had been, a King. Masutap lowered her walls, allowing Meena to get a full view of what bowing really meant to Masutap. From below, as I lay prostrate, the blade thrust beneath the chin comes effortlessly. "Are you sure you want me to bow?"

Meena's smile didn't falter, she waved a hand and Masutap felt a weight at the back of her knees, forcing her to drop to her knees, her legs moving free of her choice. A terrible weight spread about her shoulders, forcing her to slump forward, nose almost brushing the grass beneath. She tried to fight the weight, the pressure, but her efforts were in vain, like trying to dig up a mountain. Through gritted teeth she struggled to form words but only groans escaped her.

"There's a point in a mortal's life when they realize that the world they reside in wasn't meant to be a paradise for them neither does it hold the promise of ever being so." Meena's voice was an audible whisper, as if she was reciting the words to herself. "At that point, there, between despair and faith. The mortal abandons the reality around them in favor of whatever resides within. And there, between the soul and the mind do they find the Gods." The Goddess was barefoot, pale pedicured toes stepped into the periphery of Masutap's bowed head. "You're at that point, mortal. That is why you're here, that is why you've retreated within. Abandoned your will to me." Masutap felt Meena's grip around the nape of her neck, solid, pressing her skin. The Goddess lifted Masutap's head and their eyes met. "You're mine, you drink of my power and consider us equals? You exist to serve and obey. By Order's will you do." And she smiled.

Masutap knew she was going to die, there in the domain of Order and also in the reality where her body sat immobile before descending blades. She'd retreated into Meena's domain with the hopes of receiving aid from the Goddess whose champion she was. And instead Meena took pleasure in highlighting the gap between a Goddess and a mortal. As if the looming threat of death wasn't enough.

But the Goddess had spoken truth. Masutap was at the point of despair, she'd retreated within and instead found rebuke. But what lay beneath the place where the Gods existed within mortals? Could she find solace if she edged deeper within?

Masutap closed her eyes. The radiant glow of the four suns burned through her lids, painting a vivid red. She ignored Meena's tightening grip upon her neck, the feel of the grass at her feet, the touch of the breeze against her skin. She ignored it all, opening herself to the strands of Order and in so doing allowing herself to exist fully within Meena's domain. Then with an exhale, she let go of Order. And the red glow of the suns behind her closed lids vanished, in its place was darkness. The grip of Meena's fingers eased, then let go. "No." Meena's voice was barely an audible whisper, the last vowel straining and fading. The feel of the grass vanished and she felt her feet on solid ground, very cold ground. The warm breeze of Meena's domain was nonexistent and a terrible chill overcame her, forcing her to open her eyes.

She stood in a small white circle upon the ground and all around her was darkness but she could see her body and she was totally naked. The darkness beyond the white circle where she stood wasn't the familiar darkness of the night, but something that was alive and writhed and bubbled around her, ever at the edge of the white circle where she stood. Fear ruled her heart, a fear so intense that gave voice to this need to collapse and give up her life. As if she were cornered prey before the maw of a deadly predator who couldn't be fought or reasoned with, nothing left for her to do but to give up.

"Masutap." A familiar voice spoke from within the surrounding darkness, a voice she hadn't heard from in a very long time, one she hadn't even been bothered to think of. Yet the voice was unmistakable. A figure stepped into the white circle from the darkness. A figure cloaked in shadow that writhed around his being in dark, smoky tendrils that fell and rose about him. His face was free of shadow, pale and smooth as she'd remembered it. He had one eye, the same shade of blue that had once twinkled with humor at everything he saw. His other eye was a gaping black socket with black liquid oozing out of it and cascading down his left cheek in clear black rivulets that was a sharp contrast to his pale skin. A black lump of darkness obscured half his scalp with the other half spotting wavy blonde hair. "Masutap," Leba Vigon spoke. "What a pleasant surprise."

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