‘I’ve finally found you.’ A small bird was at his window, brilliant reds and oranges and fuchsias, colorful feathers gleaming in the sunset. Elske looked up from his meditation, startled by the sudden intrusion. ‘You, you talk?’ he asked, caught unaware. The bird cocked its head, amused by his confusion. ‘So do you,’ she chirped back in a woman’s voice. ‘It took me a while to track you down, I had to watch the birds for days to understand their signs, augury is no easy skill. She hopped onto his desk, peering down at the pages spread out beneath her feet. ‘Hm. You’ve been busy. The signs told me of a visitor who would be able to relieve me of my pain,’ she murmured half paying attention to him as she scoured the glyphs. Could she read them? She looked up at him again, a gleam in her beady bird eyes. ‘They say that you’ve found a way to superpower a god.’

‘You are, you must be Tuzo?’ he inquired, putting the pieces together. The bird bowed, spreading her wings and dipping her head. ‘I, Tuzo, meet the monk of the book. What’s your name, child.’ Elske shivered, trying to hide his discomfort. She didn’t need to know that this was his first time meeting a god. Nor that there was no way he would help her. Observing was one thing, but actively contributing to the murder of human souls was another, especially if it was by a god. Non-human souls either, for that matter.

He bowed back, tipping his head respectfully. ‘I am Elske,’ he said, ‘and I meet the phoenix Tuzo,’ he added, trying to match the respect the god had shown him. She looked at him amused again, at his poor attempt. ‘What, what pain are you speaking of?’ he stuttered a little, trying to narrow down her exact intentions for him, in order to find a more delicate way to decline. ‘I must destroy Hiriri, of course. We have been locked in this cycle of violence for centuries.’ She said passionately, pacing his desk, before hopping slightly to perch on the back of his chair as she looked down at his cross legged position on the floor. ‘It is time for something to break.’ Elske mulled over her answer, trying to find an exception that would free him from this troublesome request. ‘And why should you be the one to triumph,’ he asked, immediately regretting the question. Humans might forgive the faux pa, but certainly a god would be less forgiving.

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Fortunately she didn’t seem offended, ‘I was the originally wronged one. I made a simple mistake in roosting in her branches, which she took grave offense to. She retaliated with swift and severe consequence, crucifying me. She held up her wings, showing him the stigmata that lingered still, piercing the flesh, a gaping bloody hole remaining unhealed, even after all this time. ‘I nearly died. It was only by sheer will I was able to free myself, ripping myself off his cross. It is a grievance impossible for me to forgive. Doing so would dishonor those people of mine who have fought for me. I will not devalue their dedication. What would you ask for in return? I can give you eternal life as my acolyte, an honor I have never bestowed on any of my followers. Humans always desire eternal life,’ she said matter of factly. Elske took a little offense, feeling a little attacked by the stereotype, especially because it was partially right. His research would have a byproduct of immortality if correct, one he was not opposed to. Well, he would find it without her assistance. Spite, unfortunately, was often a powerful motivator for him, just as spite had been the origin of his project after meeting with Fierk, all those years ago. He merely had to continue his meditation and he would eventually reach the realm of the souls. He would enter time itself and perhaps even have access to the pure souls, which were ready to be consumed without the discomfort of facing ghosts, who remained somewhat tethered to their physical forms and the living realm, retaining their shape despite their deaths. He pushed aside his anxiety about consuming souls stubbornly.

‘Surely a great god doesn’t need the assistance of a mere mortal,’ he weedled, trying to avoid explicitly denying her. She looked at him flatly, clearly seeing through him. ‘I won’t compel you, though I easily could’ she finally said, carefully. ‘But you must swear not to assist my enemy either.’ Easy, he had no intention of helping any god. ‘I will never even seek out Hiriri, let alone assist her,’ he said with solemnity.

She left shortly after, Elske breathing a heavy sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure he would take the rejection well, but luckily gods often had their own moral code, incomprehensible to humans, this one apparently excluded compelling the unwilling. He returned to his meditations. He needed to hurry and leave, even though Tuzo had been cordial, he couldn’t expect her to remain so. Perhaps she was already rallying for another attempt, she might even escalate.