The deity that exited the castle within Kahetic removed his goggles to get a better look at Zilliad. As his hands reached for the elastic straps, Zilliad noticed that this deity had nine fingers on each hand instead of five. Once the deity’s goggles were removed, Zilliad could see bald circles around his eyes, rubbed raw by too many hours spent behind protective lenses. These bald spots were the only clean spot on the deity. His fur and wings had been coated in soot and his cloth garments were singed by flame.

“A half-breed?” the deity asked as he began to twirl a slender rod between the nine fingers of his right hand.

“A half-breed,” Sego confirmed, “of the holy trinity, nonetheless. This is Haboo’s child.”

The deity’s eyes lit up, “just as the prophecy foretold. Lind will be relieved she has come so soon…”

Sego waved his hand to silence the deity, “child of prophecy or not, her presence means nothing if we cannot reach Kigulbisis. The very holy trinity we speak of has been slain, taken by the white lightning of Atma.”

The soot covered deity began to laugh and the shuddering of his shoulders shook black dust all around him. A scowl spread over Zilliad’s face, but she remained silent.

“Of the most powerful of the deities among us, why must they also be the most reckless?” the goggle wearing deity struggled to say between laughs.

“Isaa’s opinion of me has grown lesser of late, the deity of the seas obstinately refuses to head the visions of the hourglass.”

“That bastard is as fickle as the oceans he commands,” the other deity agreed. "I imagine our next move is their rescue then?"

“Indeed. We must gather the others and make for Mount Caxpa. Joeb, how long do you think we can be ready?” Sego inquired, revealing to Zilliad which of the fourteen deities this one was.

“Tete and Guth are amongst the humans here in Kahetic. They don’t stay here in the castle with me for several reasons. Noies, Xle, Enia, and Lind are further south. I’ll tell Tete and Guth to ready several ships tonight. In the morning, we will go to Noigrat to fetch the rest. Please, show yourselves inside!” Joeb shouted as he ran towards the stone, human dwellings of Kahetic.

Sego and Zilliad looked at one another quizzically before turning their gazes to Joeb’s castle. Thick, black smoke oozed from the top and sides of the stone mansion. The deity of craftsmanship and technology must have forgotten the condition of the home he just invited Zilliad and Sego into.

“Let me clear the air,” Zilliad said as she forced a gale of wind into Joeb’s castle.

The banners that showed Joeb’s symbol, a crossed chisel and hammer, danced with the wind as all of the smoke was forced out. From the information being sent to Zilliad from her web of wind, the inside of Joeb’s castle seemed practically barren. Upon entry, Zilliad could confirm with her eyes that the first floor of the castle was in fact cleared out of most of the furnishings she had seen in Guth's castle.

Where the dining table should have been sat a large, iron cylinder that was pointing towards a wall of hay bales. Zilliad saw that the culprit of all of the smoke was likely this cylinder, as the front end of it was stained black. There were several hay bales in a pile behind the stack of hay that were burnt and torn apart, and straw and ash were strewn across the floor. The sight was like nothing Zilliad had ever seen before, an absolute mess.

In the room next to where the iron cylinder was stood a long, rectangular table. On this table were various plans and blueprints of some of the technologies Joeb was crafting. In the center of this wooden table sat the chisel and hammer depicted on the banners outside of the castle. There were several flasks and glass beakers containing various, unlabeled mixtures scattered across the table. Behind this table was a fireplace, indicating this is where the living room should have been.

The second floor of the castle was normal enough. This floor had all of the bedrooms. Only one of the beds, the largest of them all, looked used. The blankets were thrown to the floor and the pillows were without cases or coverings. Zilliad then checked the third floor, only to find that the ceiling of the castle had been torn off, housing an open garden, filled to the brim with an assortment of plants.

Zilliad and Sego retired into separate rooms. Both the deity of time and the daughter of Haboo were quick to find sleep. The intensity of the past couple days and the flight over the Enratic Sea into Lamia had drained both of them of all of their energy. Zilliad was woken early by the obnoxious sound of Joeb’s snoring echoing throughout the second floor of the castle. Zilliad escaped the noise by descending the stairs to the ground floor and she further examined the iron contraption as she waited for the deities to rouse.

The cylinder was mounted on an iron fork, made to stand at three feet tall, placing it at the height of Zilliad’s hips. There was an iron plunger leaning against the iron stand that held up the cylinder. One end of the plunger was wrapped in moist cotton, drenched in oil, while the other end was blunted. Two barrels sat next to the cylinder, one contained a coarse, gray powder while the other contained large, circular projectiles made of iron. Zilliad was peering inside the iron cylinder with one of her eyes when her inspection was abruptly interrupted.

“Like what you see?” Joeb asked, startling Zilliad.

Zilliad took several steps to further the distance between herself and the deity of craftsmanship.

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“I’m not sure what it is that I am seeing,” Zilliad responded, keeping her gaze fixed on Joeb.

“It is a tool for the humans,” Joeb placed one of his nine fingered hands to rest on his iron contraption. “The humans are frail compared to the other beasts and creatures of Garsuna. When we created the humans, we sacrificed their physical aptitude for many other advantages. One of those being, like the deities, the humans can use tools to amplify their capabilities. Armor can be tougher than scales and swords can be sharper than claws. But if they just had a little bit more…”

“Can the humans use the deities’ tools?” Zilliad asked as she eyed the wooden rod Joeb twirled between his fingers.

In the daylight, Zilliad could see that this rod had a sharp, hallowed tip. The rod was crafted by combining several wooden knots, creating a ribbed pattern. The now worn wood showed a dark brown, an indication of being soaked by the user's sweat.

Joeb shook his head before looking down at what he held, “the deities’ tools were forged in the flames of the ancient volcano Hetes. The likes of which cannot be replicated. Only those connected with the primordial essences of Garsuna can harness their power.”

“What about me?”

Joeb frowned, “now that's a thought, isn't it? I don’t think a deity has ever allowed a half-breed the opportunity.” Joeb extended his arm out to Zilliad, brandishing his slender, wooden tool, “what do you say?”

Zilliad stared at Joeb's worn tool. What power dwells within this simple looking object? She thought to herself. Zilliad knew that Isaa’s golden trident gave him the ability to freely control all of the water on Garsuna and that Cajo’s obsidian dagger allowed her to travel within the shadows. But what kind of power does the deity of craftsmanship and technology control? Zilliad began to reach towards Joeb's hand.

“Now is not the time for your experiments,” Sego cut in before Zilliad could grab the foot-long rod. “We must make haste.”

Joeb sighed before tucking his tool within the folds of his no-longer-soot-covered clothes. Joeb walked to the next room and grabbed his chisel and hammer off the table and then reentered the room where he had left Zilliad and Sego.

“Right," the deity of craftsmanship began, "Tete and Guth will be assembling our vessels now. We should at least begin our share of the preparations. Come, follow me, to the south we fly.”

Zilliad and Sego followed Joeb outside of his castle and into the morning suns. The trio leapt into the sky with their wings fully extended and glided into Zilliad’s artificially crafted air current. Joeb told Zilliad to take them south and he would indicate when she needed to change their trajectory. As she flew, Zilliad noticed just how different Lamia was compared to Glotpon.

Lamia’s plants were thin and short whereas Glotpon’s were lush and tall. Lamia was mostly flat except for spontaneous mountain ranges that jutted out of the soil like daggers. Glotpon consisted of planes that folded into rolling hills that skirted gentle inclines to its highest peaks. Lamia’s soil was bright, dry and rocky whereas Glotpon’s soil was dark, wet, and nutritious.

After a while of traveling south, Joeb directed Zilliad more southeast. Zilliad wasn’t sure what signaled the deity. The daughter of Haboo could see for miles in all directions due to the shrubby composition of Lamia’s ecosystem, but she couldn’t see anything that would remotely indicate civilization.

Joeb then directed Zilliad southwest, then west, then east, then north, then back south, then east again and Zilliad began to think that they were absolutely lost within this desolate, temperate desert. Zilliad couldn’t even feel anything interrupting the natural flow of her wind web besides Lamia’s sharp mountains. Joeb then tucked in his wings, exited Zilliad’s air stream, and landed. Zilliad and Sego were quick to follow.

“I’m pretty sure it was here," Joeb said as he began a rotating gaze. “Sego what do you think?”

Sego stared directly to the west, holding his hourglass in one hand and pointing with the other, “it’s right there,” he said, “use your eyes.”

Zilliad followed Sego’s point. Where Sego pointed was only more shrubs and emptier desert. Zilliad began to scan the area. She was so caught up in trying to see something, anything, that she didn’t notice Sego disappear into the ground followed by Joeb.

“I don’t see a damned thing,” Zilliad said as she turned to see she was now alone.

Zilliad frantically began to search for the two deities. Where in Kigulbisis did they go? Why didn’t they say anything? That is when Sego’s head popped out of the soil several yards in front of Zilliad.

“This way!” Sego shouted irritably.

Zilliad sprinted towards Sego. As she neared the deity of time, that is when she saw it. There was a deep crack in Lamia's dusty surface, only wide enough for one person to squeeze through. This thin cut stretched for several miles across the deserts until it stopped at the base of one of Lamia's steep mountain ranges. Zilliad could feel her web of wind flow through the crevice, indicating it was a tunnel and was open on the other side.

Zilliad turned to walk sideways through the crack to follow Sego, her breasts and wings brushed against the sides of the fissure as she navigated down its narrow path. If Zilliad wasn't careful, the strands of her pure white hair would get snagged on the rocks along the wall. The crack in the ground led Joeb, Sego, and Zilliad in a slight decline and the air began to get cooler and wetter as they dropped below sea level.

After several hours of uncomfortable shuffling, a small rain of dust began to fall on top of the trio, followed by a shower of tiny rocks. Joeb, who was at the front of the three, halted his advance and gestured for the other two to halt. Zilliad could feel a cluster of creatures enter her web of wind directly overhead, peering over the edge of the fissure. But when she looked above, she was too deep in the fissure to make out any figures.

There were several high pitched, clicking sounds that emanated from these creatures. Then silence. Zilliad nervously looked to the two deities who had their eyes locked on the emptiness overhead. That is when the creatures began shrieking. The sound sent shivers down Zilliad's spine and the walls around her began to rumble as the creatures lurched their bodies into the fissure.

“RUN!” Joeb shouted.

Zilliad flew into a panic as she realized she wouldn't have great control over the winds from within the confined space of the fissure. Zilliad began to send pulsating bursts of air upwards towards the creatures, but her wind only seemed to pass through the creatures, as if they were porous. Zilliad scraped both of her shoulders as she ducked into a roll to avoid one of the descending masses.

The creature splattered against the floor of the tunnel, coating Zilliad in a strange green ooze. The green ooze began to crawl off of Zilliad's body as if it had a mind of its own. Zilliad quickly turned her head to watch in horror as the green ooze collected into one giant puddle. Zilliad didn't hold her gaze long enough to see the form that the ooze took. As she turned to face forward once again; she saw Sego's body become completely enveloped by one of the falling sludge creatures.

"SEGO!" Zilliad screamed.