‘Mother! Mother! Izar says he is going to the skies to see his village for a celebration! I want to go too, can I?!’ Una hopped up and down, chirping, in her kestrel form. She had taken to wearing her bird skin more often, using it to out pace her friends when they raced around the island. ‘I’ll just watch, ok?’ Csialeide had been rather dreading this moment. She didn’t have a good reason preventing Una from leaving, accompanied as she would be by Izar and Sabea, under the protection of the skies themselves. But her deep seated worry about her daughter’s wellbeing, the undefined fear of how the world outside would affect her daughter kept her from agreeing outright. ‘Let me think about it loveling,’ she responded, drawing out the inevitable. Una would eventually leave the island one way or the other, and it would be better if it was on good terms, knowing she had a safe place to return to if something befell her. Eventually she agreed, to Una’s exuberant joy.
The day of the celebration saw Una setting out with Izar and Sabea, the two of them ascending up to the skies like shooting stars to take their places among the other constellations, while Una wore her kestrel skin, flying along behind. The small fishing village celebrated Izar every year, thanking him for his assistance in directing their ancestors to their location, his claw pointing them towards the sun, where their promised land had been when they had traveled from a great distance away. The celebration would last all throughout the night, Izar’s constellation high in the sky, though he would make a physical appearance on earth at its culmination. Sabea would hold onto their shared heart from high above, connected as she was to him through several shared stars, her own constellation known to other villages, but not this one.
Csialeide watched them go, trailing glittering stardust behind them. She sighed, it would be a long night. She waited on the shore side, watching the sunset over the city, wondering what her daughter would be interested in next. Would she want to explore more of the human world? They did wear her form, she might be drawn in. Her interest had already been piqued by the allure of a human celebration, soon she might want to know more about them, and might be intrigued by their short and eventful lives. Should she guide her interest away? Bring her into the realm of other gods so that she might learn more of her true heritage? It was a dangerous proposition, but perhaps overdue. Keeping her ignorant could only cause her harm.
They returned the next morning, Una yawning but animated, eager to share everything she had seen with her mother. ‘And they ate these really tasty skewers, and there was lots of dancing!’ Csialeide hummed along patiently, just glad that Una had returned in one piece, though from the sound of it she had done more than just watch, as she had said she would.
Una was exuberant for long after, playing new games that she had presumably learned during her outing. ‘Mother, the outside world is so much fun, why don’t we go out more often?’ Csialeide sighed, it was time to introduce her to the dangers of the outside, in a controlled environment of course, so that she would not be vulnerable when she left the nest. ‘Loveling, how would you like to go to another celebration, with Mother this time?’ Una looked at her with wide eyes, bobbing her head excitedly.
Csialeide decided to bring her daughter to a celebration at Ketsuri’s domain, she seemed a somewhat less perilous choice than get togethers at some of the others’. Ketsuri’s current residence was incidentally in the city next to them, a personal wing in her favored casino Miss Fortune, a pocket dimension only perceivable to those with higher ability. Occasionally a mortal being might be born with perceptive eyes, but they often learned very quickly to keep their head down. Gods did not care to be perceived without intention, and voyeurism, no matter how accidental, was unwelcome and merited quick retaliation.
Ketsuri’s acolyte Felix greeted them at the entrance, using his golden door knob, molded in the image of his goddess in her cochineal form, to open the portal, thrusting it into the air and twisting. The door appeared before them, opening, paper thin and covered in glyphs drawn in red ink, spinning weirdly when one looked at them for too long. ‘Careful, loveling,’ Csialeide said, blocking her daughter’s view of the hypnotic symbols, ‘look too long and you won't be able to look away.’ Una flushed, whether embarrassment or fear Csialeide was unsure. She kept one tentacled eye on her daughter as they entered, the other peering about to see who else was about. Una was looking about, innocent eyes wide at so many new sights.
Ketsuri was holding court among a cohort of younger gods, chattering away and drinking some sort of drink with a small rain cloud hovering over it, occasionally letting out a flash of purple lightning and spitting sparks. Zsa Zsa was signing with a god she didn’t recognize, a massive draped mushroom god with long flowing mycelium dragging on the floor behind him, alight with electric signals, apparently his mode of communication given his lack of a mouth. Seeing Csialeide, Zsa Zsa excused herself, making a beeline towards her and Una.
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‘Csia! How lovely to see you again, it’s been so long! And look! Is this who I think it is?!’ Despite her reservations about Zsa Zsa, she couldn’t help but boastfully introduce her daughter to one of her oldest acquaintances. ‘Yes, this is Una, my daughter. Una, loveling, this is Zsa Zsa.’ Una ducked her head, shyly. ‘Hello Zsa Zsa, it’s very nice to meet you.’ She had come so far in her education of social niceties, Csialeide thought proudly. ‘Ah, and a human child, how delicious. I mean delightful, delightful, of course.’ Zsa Zsa signed. Csialeide decided to politely ignore her slip up, though she did eye her beadily. ‘And let me introduce you to my consort, we’ve only been seeing each other for a century or so, so you haven’t yet met him, Pukk, my love, come meet Csialeide and her sweet child!’ She waved to her consort, getting his attention and signing with quick agile gestures.
A large dappled buck came bounding over, a spider’s mandible where his mouth should be, his magnificent antlers homing delicate spindly spider webs and a single large peacock spider, bizarrely alight on it, despite their usual proclivity of hunting without them. He greeted them with a bow, stretching a foreleg forward and dipping his head elegantly. The spider waved to them cheerily, clicking its greetings.
A gong sounded, interrupting them, indicating the beginning of the games. Csialeide took her daughter to join a round table, sitting behind Una and guiding her hands until Una learned the rules for herself. She then retired to one of the lounges to sip on one of the cocktails, careful not to let Una leave her sightline just yet. Soon Una seemed to be winning more than she was losing, laughing in delight at her victories and collecting a large accumulation of glittering treasure. Csialeide smiled, her daughter was a fast learner.
As the evening went on, more gods departed, taking their winnings or their losses with them, until only a smaller grouping remained. They had stayed much longer than Csialeide had anticipated, but she couldn’t bear to call Una away when she was having so much fun. They had switched to a game of chance, presumably to limit Una’s winning streak, but it didn’t seem to be having much effect. Ketsuri, the luck god herself, had joined the table, though she appeared to be among those left in the wake of Una’s victories. With a covert movement, she plucked a golden string out of the air, her finger holding it gently in a summoning gesture. Dewy beads of luck slid along it, straight from Una’s chest, unbeknownst to her. A subtle smirk settled on Ketsuri’s cochineal red lips, the only skin besides her golden eyes visible beneath her burial wrappings, as Una lost the game, a pout on her face.
‘Ketsuri,’ Csialeide rumbled, her hum rocking the very air. Ketsuri froze, clearly surprised at being caught. ‘Return my daughter’s luck.’ The smile returned to Ketsuri’s face, a full one this time. ‘Oh? The goddess of whispers and secrets takes issue with my claim? All luck is mine, just waiting to be returned to its origin. This luck was borrowed from the beginning.’ Csialeide hummed, the sound of whispers rising. An overwhelming pressure took over the room, beings collapsing, holding their ears, their eyes. Ketsuri released the thread, breaking the connection, a bloody spot forming on the bandages over her nose, dying her lips a second, darker shade of red as it trickled down her face, dripping below to her chest. The golden dew of luck snapped back into a shocked Una, the only one resistant to her mother’s oppressive aura. Csialeide quieted, the whispers returning to her shell, relieved beings stood slowly, shaken, but none quite so shaken as Ketsuri, who had collapsed over the table.
‘Loveling,’ Csialeide called, ‘I think now is a good time to make our exit.’ Una quickly stepped past a near-comatose Ketsuri to join her mother. ‘Goodbye sweet Una! I hope to see you again soon!’ Zsa Zsa called behind them as they made their departure, a bewildered Felix opening the door for them to leave.
As a treat, Csialeide decided to take Una through the human’s city, the humans parting around her, their eyes sliding right over the giant snail in their midst. They walked through a public garden, human children and their pets running around, playing. ‘May I join, Mother?’ Una asked, her eyes wide and guileless, as if she hadn’t just been on the receiving end of a god’s envy. ‘Of course loveling, but be careful not to harm them, they’re weaker and more delicate than Izar and Sabea.’ Una took off running, joining in easily. She fit so easily among them, Csialeide worried.
A shout voiced from the field where Una had disappeared to. ‘It’s a miracle!’ A giant bird flew down from the top of a tree, a small child on its back, clutching on tightly, fearful from having been stuck at the top for so long, its grubby face wet with tears. The bird alighted delicately on the ground, careful not to jostle the child. The parents rushed up, scooping the child into worried embrace, thanking the Una profusely. Una shook her body, feathers melting into skin as she shrunk back down into her human form. Humans bowed down before her, revenant and in awe. Una slipped back into incognito, stepping from visible to invisible before their astonished eyes. She ran back to Csialeide, ‘Mother, Mother! Did you see, I made them so happy!’ Csialeide hummed, doing her best to be encouraging towards her daughter’s interests, no matter how confusing they were to her. ‘Very good, loveling!’ Una beamed.
They returned home soon after, but not before Una had snagged some street food for herself, having discovered a love for it on her last outing with Izar and Sabea. She spoke around her mouth full of sticky candy, ‘Mother, can we come back? I really like the humans, they get excited so easily, it’s so fascinating.’ Csialeide eyed her, ‘don’t speak with your mouth full, you’ll get food everywhere. Do you really like them so much?’ She asked, slightly wistful. It would be so much easier if she didn’t find them as interesting as she clearly did. Getting involved in human affairs was a messy business, they were such a vice ridden species, so greedy for power without paying its rightful price. Gods understood these things were about reciprocity. She worried about how their wasteful emotions might affect Una, who was still a growing child, barely a century old. ‘If it’s what you will,’ she finally sighed. As Oongx said, she had to let her daughter discover the world and its rules on her own.