Up the golden castle, through long, winding corridors and stairways of white, Aer led Phos to the highest accessible balcony. As a breeze blew over them, Aer reached out towards Phos and pinched a lock of floating hair between her fingers.

Phos tensed; an inadvertent reaction from the stranger’s contact.

“It truly does glow,” Aer marvelled. “You are associated with the element ‘Fire,’ correct?”

Phos nodded—then remembered that Aer was blind, and voiced his affirmation instead. Even when her eyes were closed, Aer seemed as if she could see his every move….

The Light Lord wondered if he had a problem recognizing people’s eyes. First with Pyre—the man looked blind, but could actually see—then with Aer, the exact opposite. Phos brought a hand to his own eyes, recalling that in the mirror, one was a darker orange than the other.

“The Lord of Light?” Aer spoke again, releasing Phos’s wavy hair. “But that’s not right… Why are you not a Lesser Lord categorised in metal or electricity?”

Aer tilted her head down in thought, then slowly sat down in the air. Phos found himself nearly lunging towards her, afraid that she would fall backwards onto the marble balcony ground. But to his surprise, a chair of clouds materialised under Aer—and when he turned around, a clump of wispy white had formed behind him as well.

“Sit down.”

Up until now, only Aer had been speaking. She motioned for Phos to relax, lightly tapping on the chair under her to prove its stability.

“Say, Little Light Lord. What is your name?”

Phos had a physical reaction towards the nickname, freezing like a statue of ice. A chill ran up his spine as he recalled something: Pyre gripping Phos’s chin, a threatening look in his empty eyes as he called him something similar.

Little ‘dead’ lord, was it?

Shaking his head, Phos fidgeted with his fingers as his lips parted.

“Phos.”

Aer nodded. “What a beautiful name.”

She didn’t wait for Phos’s thanks before continuing. “Phos; what do you think about Gods and Lords?”

What an out-of-the-blue question. Phos held his breath in deliberation.

“What do you mean?” He finally asked, gaze set on the strange Lord before him.

With a small sigh, so faint that Phos almost didn’t catch it, Aer stood up again. She patted her dress of green—for what, remnants of clouds? Phos couldn’t tell—and turned her back to the Lord of Light. This prompted Phos to stand as well, and he trailed behind Aer as she strolled to the balcony.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“I was born billions of years ago, just alongside God Gaia.”

Sensing a monologue, Phos shut his open mouth and listened intently.

“Back then, we were not like this,” she continued, gesturing at herself. “No body, no heart. Just… an existence.”

Tracing her fingers along the balustrade, Aer settled her blank eyes on Phos. “A young Lord like you, do you know what that means?”

Phos’s fingers, which had been flexing and interlocking with themselves, jerked once before coming to a stop. What did Aer mean? ‘Just an existence?’

His mind conjured many ideas, all of which pointed to one conjecture:

The human forms Lords had now—their movements, their emotions…

Aer seemed to know Phos’s thoughts as her eyes glazed over him once more.

“You’re a very bright child.” Aer looked out towards the distant sky. “At first, when humans gradually came into existence, we were simply curious. We took on the form of these creatures as they dominated the Earth. But gradually, we mimicked not just their bodies, but their minds as well.”

The Lord of Air’s fist balled up, enough for Phos to notice. Was the Lord mad? But at what? Why?

“We were simply concepts back then. Without interactions, coexisting in peace. But now, the superficial nature of humankind permeates this land.”

Phos rested a hand on the balcony railing, staring at Aer with a slight complication in his eyes. Aer… didn’t seem to like humans much.

She reminded Phos of the Lord of Nature. Nymph similarly disliked them—but the chill Aer emitted whenever she spoke of the creatures made Phos nervous.

Aer turned back to Phos, who subconsciously straightened his back.

“You were born in an Anima Mundi where Lords and Gods had taken on human forms for aeons.”

While Aer didn’t talk any further, Phos understood her meaning.

Tell me what you think.

“I…” Phos swallowed. Why was he so nervous? He felt like a schoolchild before a teacher.

Aer had a sense of Absolute Authority that Phos feared. He shivered once, before opening his mouth.

“While I don’t approve of humanity’s destructive nature, I enjoy the connections humans are able to make.” He thought back on his words. “Not just humans, animals’ capacities as well.

“I was born to a younger generation, but I prefer experiencing emotions as creatures on Earth do. It helps me understand them more.”

Now he’d begun rambling, unknowing of whether Aer understood the interpretation behind his words. He looked down, and his fingers were squishing themselves again. They stopped after a small tremble.

“Humans are complicated… complex, but they are interesting, and I think that Lords can learn a lot from them.”

Aer closed her eyes, her expression troubled.

“So this is what you believe.”

She took short steps towards Phos, who didn’t know if he should move back or not. Feet glued to the spot, faced by such forceful authoritative pressure, his one rule for himself, to always shoot if he felt threatened, flew out the window—that’s not right—flew off the balcony.

“Phos.” Aer looked down at the Light Lord, just inches away from him. In a daze, he noticed that she, too, was taller than him by quite a bit.

“I truly despise the Lesser Lords. They live under the thumb of humankind, dominated by superficiality. They should not exist.

“Do you know what happens to a Lesser Lord when they die?”

“...”

Phos couldn’t register her question.

In the silence, the wind grew stronger. Aer smiled at Phos.

A calm smile.

She gently placed a hand on his back.

Then pushed him off.