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Soulgate
Arc 2, Chapter 9: The inevitable future

Arc 2, Chapter 9: The inevitable future

‘I see,’ murmured Zichu. ‘I will inquire among the gods I know, and my visions, and see who exactly will pass through the gate. It will take some effort to locate the eversleepers, but they seem the most important to purify. Thank you for sharing your burden with me, I am grateful to be of service to the world, in this way. You have worked hard, but you shouldn’t try to do everything on your own,’ she chided, gently. ‘The other gods are your family, and though you may not care for them like I do, you may even see them as a burden on humanity and the world at large, many did not wish for this life and will be grateful to you for setting them free. Not everyone wishes for eternity.’

Zichu made good on her promise, and within a couple weeks a summons came to them from the palace. ‘Celebrated Zichu, god of visions, the great prophet of Sonsoliel, patron saint of the palace of mirrors, invites Mejias, god of the gate, to the palace.’ ‘God of the gate, huh,’ Iseult snorted. Mejias shot her a dirty look as she stiffly accepted the royal invitation, a heavy scroll, the broken seal depicting the rings of the sunstone, actual sunstone inlaid wood spooling the paper. An orange ombre ribbon wafted in the breeze from within the layered, embossed paper. ‘How much paper do they really need,’ Mejias grumbled, grumpily trying to rewind the scroll. ‘Hmph, they don’t even write that big.’

Mejias refused to dress up, ‘you’re going to stand out!’ Iseult tried to cajole her into dressing up, if even just a little. ‘I’m going to stand out no matter what, I may as well be comfortable. Besides, who would say anything to me, I’m a god.’ Well, that did seem a sound reasoning. Nonetheless, Iseult did enjoy a good opportunity to dress up, had ever since she had started to appreciate clothes as a living child, and Mejias was depriving her. She was at least going to complain until they got to the gates. It was only fair.

A litter arrived for their transportation, gossamer curtains surrounding a pile of silky soft pillows in an assortment of shapes, like a gourmet box of chocolates. ‘Why is everything so gaudy!?’ Mejias exclaimed. Iseult shrugged, she was also bemused. Back in the city she lived in when she was alive this would all be considered a massive faux pas. ‘I’m not getting in that, it looks stupid.’ Mejias folded her arms, glaring at the litter and its porters as if they had personally offended her, which they had, Iseult supposed. She knew Mejias was just acting this way because she was nervous, but did she have to be quite so difficult?

Isuelt elected to ride in the litter, though the porters were obviously unaware of their cargo. She felt so grand, lounging among the pillows, looking down at the awestruck townsfolk as they wound their way through the city. Mejias marched in front aggressively. Scowling whenever someone threw a handful of cherry blossoms in front of her. ‘If you keep making that face, when they build your statue they’re going to put a frown on it.’ Iseult called out to Mejias back. Mejias half turned, just enough to narrow her eyes in the direction of Iseult, the bewildered porters flinching under her gaze. ‘Ha! Don’t look at me like that, you’ll scare your entourage!’

They eventually made it to the palace despite Iseult’s heckling, the litter porters sweating, despite the cool breeze between the cherry blossom trees as they hurried to keep up with Mejias on the many stairs up towards the palace. Their hurried pace made what might have been a smooth ride much more choppy for Iseult, but then they were unaware they had an actual passenger. At the top of the steps was another courtyard, this one also surrounded by cherry blossom trees, but with a large fountain in the center with a pink and mirror tiled basin, fallen cherry blossoms floating on its surface. It depicted a massive statue of Zichu dancing along with some attendants, their skirts swirling high in dance, water whirling around them, apparently much more lightweight than the ones they had worn when they visited. But then clothing trends changed over time, and the god of visions had been alive for centuries. ‘See, your statue could be next,’ Iseult teased Mejias one more time.

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They separated from their ride, and a servant led them through the massive front doors, illuminated columns with a honeycomb structure on either side, imposing, mirrored things, as much of the outer layer of the palace was. ‘It’s like a forest,’ Mejias said, stunned, seeing the inside for the first time. The ceiling was domed, with a painted mosaic mirror with beautiful birds, primarily stylized peacocks, painted on the glass of it, while live peacocks wandered the floors below, and smaller songbirds flitted above. Orbicular jasper pillars carved into pineapples and elephants reached up to the ceilings, dappled with colorful yellows and greens. Lush palms and various other plants filled the space, many dripping down from caches in the tops of the pillars. It was the first time they had been inside since they had immigrated to the city. It was uncommon for the city folk to visit the palace, however there were occasional tours. It was a popular destination for field trips, though Mejias’ school hadn’t made time to come. It exceeded Iseult’s expectations. Iseult’s previous city had no comparable historical buildings, the closest were some of the homes of the higher ranking citizens, like her own, but even that was nothing compared to the palace. They made their way through the entrance hall, a single slender carpet leading them deeper, the pattern in geometric greens and yellows matching the color scheme of the rest of the room.

Eventually they entered a hallway, mosaic mirrors cut in an interlocking star pattern lining the sides, colorful tropical plants embedded in the wall on one side and large windows on the other, looking out onto a view of the city from above, framed in thick green curtains with lighter flowing silvery-yellow ones peeking out from beneath them. At the other end of the hallway they reached another set of ornate doors, which the attendant carefully opened, stepping respectfully to the side to allow them entrance. A burble of voices echoed through, preceding those inside. Zichu, followed by her familiar entourage of acolytes separated from the group, approaching them with widened arms, welcoming them into the space. ‘I’m so glad you accepted my invitation!’ She said, as if she hadn’t seen just that, guiding them inward. They approached a woman who could be no one else except King Sja, her crown of monarchs marking her as the ruler, if her bearing alone was not enough. She stood taller than everyone around her, her back straight and clothing more reserved than those around her, highlighting the grandeur of her headdress. The pinned butterflies fluttered minutely, several taking flight to flutter around her hair before settling back among the kaleidoscope of oranges and blacks.

‘Welcome, Gatekeeper,’ the king said, her hand pressed against her chest flat-palmed in honorable greeting, her eyes wary and reserved despite her relaxed stance. It must be intimidating to meet a young god that had already proven themselves to hold unimaginable power, Iseult thought, sympathetically. ‘Stop fidgeting,’ Iseult whispered to Mejias, who was doing her best not to shuffle her feet. A smile quirked the corner of the king’s mouth, and something in her posture relaxed another fraction. ‘I understand the gate has another use, besides that of relieving the plague?’ she asked, straightforwardly. ‘Yes,’ Mejias answered quickly, glad to have something to say instead of continuing to fidget. ‘The gods have a corruption inside them that needs purification or else it will continue to endanger the world, the gate is intended to relieve it before it causes a rift in the universe.’ The king’s expression hardened, she nodded solemnly. ‘Zichu,’ she swept a hand towards the god, ‘has been meditating in search of those she calls the eversleepers’ she said leadingly. ‘Good,’ Mejias nodded approvingly. ‘Those are the most ancient gods, the gods that have accumulated the most corruption, weighing down their souls. The ones putting the world most in danger.’ ‘To this end, we have been approached by a god claiming to offer assistance.’ Sja moved to the side, revealing a being, a humanoid cosmic whirl, an entire galaxy in flesh. ‘Nobi,’ Iseult whispered, her voice a puff of air in Mejias’ ear. Orikka’s true form.

End Arc 2