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In the depths of the Vodyanitsa, a deep basin of clear water sat untouched by mortal hands for millennia. Soft trickles of glowing dew dripped from misty branches into the calm pool, creating gentle whirls of glowing fog across the dream-like vista. Just beneath the pool's surface, tiny fluorescent fish darted in and out of fragmented skulls, feasting on the mana-rich algae ever-present among the corals where the remains of the honored dead were ensealed.

Among the verdant fronds of ferns, and kneeling in the soft mosses of the bank, a feminine figure peered into her reflection. Her white and grey hair was decorated with feathers, and her eyes were ringed with a delicate application of golden pigment. Her pale skin seemed to glow in the ever-present moonlight of the dungeon, accenting the pure white linens of her robe. The figure breathed in and out, and the world around her seemed to breathe with her. Swirls of multicolored mana coiled about, encircling the ferns, and bespelling the toadstool at her side. Wisps and motes floated around her, drawn to her rich and unique mana signature. The woman smiled, recognizing the scent of one of her patrons approaching.

From underneath her reflection, a scaly head bobbed up, barely breaking the surface of the water. A single citrine gem-like orb looked into her beady eyes. The barest glimpse of teeth beneath the water seemed to call utter silence into the already quiet space, as even the insects of the swamp knew to whom they owed fealty. The woman bowed deeply, placing her hands out in front of her in deep reverence for her savior. A sonorous voice, like wind through chimes played out throughout the marshland.

“O, Blessed child. For many ages, your deft wings have served our great mother. Though she may not be one for sentiment, know that we children of the mire have grown to view you as one of our own.” It said.

“You honor me, great one. I owe my continued existence to this place. How may I serve?” said the woman, rising to meet its gaze. Her voice was smooth and calming, like that of a wisened sage.

“You have adapted well to our customs, and respect our sacred charge. Your life debt was repaid eons ago, and you are long due a reward for your fealty.”

The great beast moved forward, gently touching its massive snout against the woman’s leg. A torrent of death, life, nature, and water mana flowed through her, finding purchase in her core, and suffusing her with the blessing of the swamp. She sharply breathed in and felt her already strong connection to the dungeon deepen further. A teardrop fell down her pale cheek, and she rose to meet her sworn sibling.

“My heart is filled with rapturous joy. With your blessing, I shall construct a nest like none before it, and sing the song of my story alongside yours throughout this sacred place.” said the woman.

“We shall see it so. Mother looks forward to seeing what you will build here… but first, I have brought you a blessing, but also I bear news of an unfortunate task.” The alligator growled, sending ripples throughout the pond.

“Speak it, and it shall be done.” said the woman.

“A fell portent has risen in the upside-down sky. A new constellation sings a song of malaise and torture… We have consulted the oldest bones and raked through the reeds to chew upon the sacred papyrus that grows there. This new song… is old. Older than even Mother herself. We require that you fly to your old roost, and consult your old masters so that they might glean meaning from it. In part, we blessed you so that you may return to that place in a glorious new aspect with our authority… and because we demand your safe return here once the job is done. Be safe, little one.”The great beast retreated beneath the surface, leaving a small, brass cylinder on the shore of the pond. The woman picked it up, feeling the ominous energies contained within. She gathered her staff and set off across the pond. Her footfalls upon the surface of the water breathed new life into the water, as shimmering fish sprang forth from the droplets that fell from the hem of her robes. She walked forward, singing a song of perseverance and wisdom.

_____

After walking for several days and nights through the sacred waters, the woman came upon a muddy clearing, where no river would flow. Amid this clearing, a pale tree with thin, bare branches stood alone. One of the largest branches was splintered and broken, hanging down to create a haphazard arch.

The woman remembered this place well. This unintended archway had been witness to her darkest day, but also to her eventual salvation. In the early days of her residence here, she had visited often, wondering if she had made the correct choice at all, or if she was merely running from her fate.

She regarded the tree and firmed her resolve. It had been… countless years since she had been back. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but she wouldn’t let her patrons- no, her family- down.

The woman stripped her robes off and allowed them to fall unceremoniously into the muck. She stepped forward to the tree, shedding her modest charms and accessories, allowing herself to feel vulnerable, but also embracing her truest self. She took her staff and drew a single, straight line across the ground. She traced the line slowly, and deliberately, feeding it no mana, but rather allowing the act to draw upon her very essence- and moreso, her birthright. She connected the line to the trunk of the tree on one side, and the place where the fallen branch touched the mud on the other, completing the little ritual.

She witnessed no grand working of magic, nor any spark, smoke or other indication that she had been successful, but she felt something slide into place within her. Anxiety took ahold of her, as she reluctantly felt the piece of herself that she had long since ignored spark to life. Like a tiny, clawed hand had reached inside her and gripped her heart, she felt the pieces of who she once was emerge from beneath her skin.

She gathered her composure, stepped forward into the archway, and disappeared.

_____

The woman walked through endless darkness. The mud of the forest had long since given way to a soft, velvety shadow of a liminal space, somewhere between the planes. This pathway, an old, accidental working of magic, had once saved her life. She barely recalled fleeing her home amidst the chaos of that day… and she couldn’t help visualizing it as she walked toward the place that she had abandoned. She saw golden gates snapping shut, and countless spirits running for safety. Abominations filled the streets, and waves of corrupting magic befouled the very-

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No.

She steeled herself.

She walked onward.

After some time, she felt herself changing. She gradually shrank, shifted, and contorted as she walked, shedding the imitation of the persona that she had grown for herself in the Vodyanitsa. She once again wore feathers and a beak.

She flapped her wings, allowing her talons to lift from the floor, and feeling the abyss around her drop away, as the space changed to accommodate her. She flew, and flew, and flew some more, as she felt that the swamp she had grown to love was further and further away.

After some time, the shadows began to take lumpy forms. The barest signs of the grain of wood, and the smell of old carpet became barely discernable among the darkness.

The first sign that she had truly arrived was a single mote of purple knowledge mana floating into her vision. She inhaled deeply, grimacing slightly as the dusty scent of book and poem replaced the verdant song and nature that she had become used to.

She flew over the tops of bookshelves, expanding her form. Her slender legs and long beak shone with the barest hints of metal, as she truly began to embody her past self. Her feathers changed, from mottled grey to steel, and her eyes hardened into rubies. She creaked, feeling the weight of her old form… but she remembered who she had become.

A torrent of water emerged from her wings, and she laughed. Fish, flowers, and ferns grew upon her metallic form, changing her yet again.

She had become a daughter of the Vodyanitsa.

Her old, limited form no longer controlled her. She was no longer the wrought servant that fled Vitrium in fear- she was now a steward of the wild and a proud herald of the death rites of the ancient mire.

She flew deeper.

And deeper.

And deeper.

She flew past familiar sights, and laughed, as creatures and spirits alike parted for the strange bird, half metal, and half forest.

She diverted her path through the old halls, gladly remembering where she would go to find the little hidden vistas that she remembered from her past. She thought briefly about visiting her old friend in their pond… but thought against it.

Too painful. Perhaps once my mission is done, I will spare them a visit on the way back… so long as I don’t have to make an expedient retreat.

Finally, she felt a change in the dungeon around her. Her instincts screamed at her to turn back, but she persisted. The knowledge mana had become blisteringly concentrated, enough to cause her to pause her flight and land, but she pushed onward- remembering that she had every right to be here.

She faced a non-descript wall, deep within the untread halls of the dungeon. She had flown high above the heads of any mortals in the upper areas, and using her birthright, had even evaded the notice of many spirits. She summoned a wall of obscuring leaves, and whispered the old words.

“I am. I seek. I learn. I speak. I enter blind and come out seeing. What am I?”

The brickwork of the wall reformed itself, losing definition, and shaking forth ages of dust. The lines reformed themselves into the answer to the ancient riddle, revealing the doorway beyond.

She walked forwards, allowing vines to grow over the walls as she passed them.

The old passage opened up into the vast beyond, allowing her to take in the sights of her old home.

Hundreds of thousands of golden doorways illuminated the twilight sky, hanging above the city of light. Some doors were covered in blackened vines, others leaked steady streams of water. One door even appeared to be covered in perpetual flame.

The city below was… breathtaking, even after everything that had happened.

Tall towers of scintillating ivory-colored crystal rose to the dreamy sky, covered in dense runes, lost languages, ancient secrets, and masterful carvings. A copse of mangled trees spilled over the sides of what was once a precious vivarium. Magic power still thrummed through the ley-lines, as the carved gemstone pavement lit and crackled with unspent potential. Countless structures and statues sprang forth streams of mana.

She caught sight of one of them. A great centipede, covered in pulsating purple crystals crawled over a tall tower, drawn towards something in a higher floor. The great monster screeched, retrieving some sort of grimoire from the tall tower- and promptly bit into the book, destroying it in a matter of moments. The great bird beheld the ruins of the city of light, not averting her gaze even when she heard clanging footsteps approaching her from behind.

“Beloved betrayer. Why have you returned to this place?” asked the approacher. The voice was scratchy and dull, upsetting to the ears.

She turned to face the voice, not recognizing it.

A great mass of carved feathers, warped metal, and intricate gemstones met her gaze. The thing before her had many vaguely-birdlike heads with needle-sharp beaks, and a grotesque amount of crystalline wings that jutted out of it at odd angles. Most upsetting of all were the eyes. Most of the crystalline eyes of the deformed spirit had been plucked out, leaving dark holes in all but three.

“Is that you, Lark?” she asked, dumbfounded. She tried to remember the once beautiful voice of the misshapen creature in front of her, finding that her memory of him was unable to bridge the gap.

“Hello, Heron. I see that the Vodyanitsa has changed you. Welcome back to the city. You are the first to visit in many years.” the Lark said.

“I… you appear to have changed as well.” Heron replied.

“Yes. It grows bored, so he lets it change us when he sees fit to do so.” Lark replied.

“I… I’m so sorry.” Heron said.

“It is of little consequence. The Goddess Eater performs the function he is required to do. Those of us that have chosen to remain in this place exist solely for the comfort of that creature. It is unwise for you to stay… it will find you to be interesting. If you have business to attend to here, I recommend that you address it, and then leave. The city of light is no longer safe for spirits.” the Lark said.

“Vey well… I bring tidings from Vodyanitsa. We require the knowledge of the ages… I seek the Master of Masters.” declared the Heron.