“A dragon.” Gaius ruminated on the exciting words that Thel-Da had brought out. “A freaking dragon. You want me to sculpt a flying dragon, ignoring the fact that wood doesn’t magically levitate or hover.”

“Yes,” Thel-Da replied, a bright smile on her face.

“Did you ignore the last part of my sentence, where I said that wood doesn’t hover on its own accord?” Gaius asked.

“We’ll deal with that in our own way,” she replied. “We want you to carve a dragon. You don’t need a base for it. Just the dragon spiralling into the skies and breathing fire.”

“You didn’t mention that last part earlier,” Gaius replied. “Are you going to take care of that part too? I would like to remind you that wood is a flammable object. Sticking a small lighter in its mouth isn’t going to cut it.”

“Of course not, silly. You’ll be carving the flames too,” she replied.

“Did the dragon you capture breathe fire too?”

“We didn’t capture any dragon. It’s residing with us as a guest…along with the ruling families of every other city,” she answered. Lowering her voice even further, she said, “Apparently, it claims to be a god.”

“A god.” Gaius wanted to spew out some rather choice words at this revelation, but he probably had it coming from a mile away. “What do you mean by a god?”

“It calls itself Aldnath, the Dragon of Time, and it’s already returned some centenarians of the major families to youth,” she explained. “Apparently, it descended to our Cybral one month ago. It’s looking for believers here, and hopes to bring some up into the greater world called Orb.”

Gaius had a feeling that a really odd look was on his face now, on that he couldn’t somehow banish. “So…why do you need a sculpture?”

“Why wouldn’t we need a sculpture of a god?” Thel-Da replied. “If we can please it with our efforts in establishing the Church of Time, we might be able to ascend as its servants! That’ll mean eternal life! Power! Why wouldn’t we want that?”

From the sounds of things, the great gods were now paying attention to the true Orb, the virtual Cybral, and the souls within. Gaius wasn’t sure if Xanadu’s words had moved them, or if the Pinnacle did something to make this happen, but it was too early to tell if it was good news or bad news for him.

Is this the reason why the Chanter of Innocents went missing? Is he trying to prevent any monkey business by the great gods? A whole host of questions battered Gaius, but he couldn’t help but wonder if the Sentinel of Space’s familiar spirit being here and Aldnath’s sudden appearance was related.

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It didn’t take long for him to reason out why Aldnath was the only great god who descended. The Dragon of Time was the only great god who didn’t have a Divine Kingdom; the only great god that didn’t have a fixed residence. If he brought this to the logical extreme, it therefore meant that Aldnath didn’t have many familiar spirits either, which was why it was free to go anywhere it pleased.

The only question that remained was how the Dragon of Time even got here in the first place.

Gaius promptly asked that question, and Thel-Da glanced at him oddly.

“It just appeared one day,” she replied. “Some time ago, actually. At this point I see no point in lying to you; half of those sculptures we commissioned from you were sent over to the incipient Church of Time. Remember the uptick in orders two months ago? That was after we decided to situate the Church of Time in unaffiliated territory.”

“They allowed that?” Gaius asked, curious. “Weren’t the Eight Great Cities highly territorial?”

“Which is why City No.78112 was created by us,” she replied. “The Thel family is a neutral, unambitious clan. We have dealings all over Cybral, and so we naturally became the host of the Church of Time.”

She grinned.

“Well, we’ve gotten a bit off track, but yes, that’s the ins and outs of it.” Sipping from her own cup —her throat had to be dry after talking so much— she leaned back and let out a languid sigh. “Interested? You’ll have to travel for some time, but a master craftsman like you shouldn’t be holed up in a small house in the first place.”

“I’ll think about it,” Gaius replied. “After all, this place is my home.”

And more importantly, he didn’t have all that much time left in Cybral. If he got it right, he had around eight months left in this world. He was more interested in making sure that La-Ti was adequately prepared to handle this world than anything else, just so that he wouldn’t get a bad taste in his mouth if he ever returned to Cybral.

“Oh, we’re not asking you to take up permanent residence in 78112,” she replied. “Or do you have other pressing concerns?”

Gaius grunted.

“Is it your apprentice?” she asked. “If that’s the case, he can also tag along. Besides, he’s quite the adorable little child.”

Gaius grunted again, his eyes on La-Ti, who had suddenly stopped his work. “That’s one reason behind it. I’m tempted to come along, if only to see a real dragon in the flesh, but it’s going to be a rather long trip.”

“Should be around half a month, given the present state of the terrain,” she replied.

Gaius grunted. “Taking such a long trip for one sculpture doesn’t exactly make me feel happy either.”

“We won’t force you, of course, but we really hope that we can employ you for this monumental sculpture. You’re one of the best sculptors available,” she said.

“I’ll think about it.” Gaius leaned back. “If I were to agree, when is the earliest I’ll need to set off?”

“Four months from now.”

“So I’ll have that much time to think about it, then.” The boy smiled wanly. “I’ll think about it.”

Thel-Da got up. “Very well. I hope to receive a favourable answer.”

Gaius grunted, his eyes lingering on her as she walked out of the courtyard. Patting his apprentice on the head, he picked up a wooden block and returned to work.

There was more than enough time for him to think about it, anyway.