The inside of the palace — Omicron, as it was called — was decorated luxuriously. Crystal-encased flames were placed at regular intervals, with delicate chandeliers that emanated gold light hanging above each and every turn or corner. There were hundreds of doors inside the palace, each leading to a room or something.

           Captain Aziz was growing curious about these rooms when their guide, the Familiar Spirit Rene, opened one such door and led them inside.

           A lush field entered his vision. Grass, greener than anything he’d seen in World’s End, were growing happily and freely in this place, and flocks of birds were chirping merrily near a wonderful expanse of clear water. The four-coloured sky that had covered the entirely of the Five Lands for some time had been reverted to its old, cheerful sky-blue.

           “This will be the resting place for the escorts of the Southern diplomatic party,” said the familiar spirit. “It would be impolite if the Lord’s inner sanctum is made crowded through the presence of so many escorts.”

           “Naturally,” said the diplomat who had stepped out earlier. “But we would like to have the commanders of Thunderbolt Battalion to go with us, for our own mental well-being.”

           The familiar spirit considered his request for a moment, and then nodded. “It can’t be helped, I guess. Humans require security and peace of mind.”

And what were you against before you became a familiar spirit, hmm? Some esoteric painting or sculpture given life? Or maybe a chunk of fire that the Worldshaper found intriguing? Captain Aziz retorted mentally, and said, “Of course. We are but mortals, incomparable to the great gods and their servants.”

           “Tis good that you know your place,” the familiar spirit replied.

           The captain really wanted to tell her that they probably wouldn’t make it back to the Republic safely if they didn’t, but his common sense told him that if he were to say that, this little group probably wouldn’t even make it out of Omicron. Therefore, the captain settled by sidling away slowly. He had a feeling that if he continued to stay in close proximity to the familiar spirit, he would eventually give in to his desire to retort with a whole host of insults.

           “Something wrong?” Colonel Marie whispered as Aziz moved over to her.

           “Something about Familiar Spirit Rene really bugs,” he replied. “If I were to listen to her words a few more times, I would probably doom this entire delegation, so I’m moving over to you.”

           The colonel mulled over his words for a moment. “Fair enough.”

           She paused to listen to the familiar spirit speak again, and nodded her head. “Something about her really bugs. I don’t even want to get close to her — I want to beat her up when she starts mouthing off.”

           “Violence is bad,” Aziz replied categorically. “You shouldn’t do that to her.”

           He glanced at the familiar spirit, who was wrapping up her speech to convince the members of Thunderbolt Battalion to defect over to the Worldshaper, and felt a little spark of anger in his heart at the sight of overt poaching.

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           “If you so desire to cast off your mortal vessels and join us in life everlasting, you can approach me at any time,” the familiar spirit concluded. “God’s doors are forever open to anyone who wishes for salvation.”

Why does she make it sound like there’s only one great god? Captain Aziz pondered. He had the feeling that she would be the dead body in a locked-door murder if she said things like these in the Divine Kingdoms of the other great gods, and suddenly felt the urge to run.

           Before he could flee, however, the familiar spirit had drifted over.

           “Oh dear,” said Rene, “I’ve lost track of time while trying to bring salvation to the members of the escort party. We should make haste for God’s throne room.”

           She beckoned at the members of the diplomatic party, who ambled over fearfully — the captain had a feeling that like him, the others had noticed that this familiar spirit was nothing short of a ticking time bomb. Perhaps she would mouth off something utterly impolite in the presence of the Worldshaper himself, which might just trigger a room-wide massacre of unfortunate innocents.

           The room that they were in currently grew even more attractive with every passing second. It wasn’t just the aesthetics now — Captain Aziz valued his life.

           “Colonel Marie,” said the captain, “I believe that I should stay here and watch over the members of Thunderbolt Battalion. I get a feeling that without you around, they might start up something again — remember the time that they nearly rioted when you were in a briefing for a few hours?”

           Her eyes went round. “That’s a problem, isn’t it? You’re right.”

           “Therefore,” continued the captain, “I should stay here and prevent them from doing anything idiotic.”

           “That’s not going to work,” said the colonel. “You alone won’t be able to do anything about their worry. We’re talking about a great god here. Therefore, I have a better suggestion.”

           “Which is?”

           “I’ll stay here, and you go with the diplomats instead.” The colonel grinned, and Captain Aziz immediately understood that she had seen through his little ploy. Granted, after seeing how the familiar spirit ran her mouth without any restraint whatsoever, anyone would feel alarmed, but the captain had the feeling that he’d just smashed his own foot with a rock.

           “Must we really go?” Captain Aziz asked. “I don’t really fancy my chances with —”

           “Let us depart.” The familiar spirit’s words interrupted Aziz’s whispered plea for help, and the diplomats behind her gesticulated frantically. The captain sighed and walked over to them, shaking his head the entire time.

           In silence, the small group headed towards the throne room of the Worldshaper. Aziz had no idea why they wanted him to follow, a thought that grew more pronounced when the familiar spirit stopped him from entering the throne room himself when he reached.

           “You, esteemed captain, cannot enter,” said Familiar Spirit Rene. “There’s a waiting room prepared for you at the side. You should rest there while your diplomats speak with the Lord.”

           “Alright.” Captain Aziz followed her into a small room at the side. It looked like a bedroom of sorts — there was a bed with hanging drapes, curtains, a nice table with a teapot and two cups. Aziz stared at them, and then stifled a yawn.

           “You can sleep here if you want to,” said the familiar spirit. “But won’t you hear me speak for a moment?”

           She stretched and arched her chest outwards, a movement that drew the eyes of the man, and smiled.

           “I…don’t see why not,” Aziz replied without thinking.

           “Excellent…”