“Enough.” Sod said.

It wasn’t loud, nor was it forceful, but the tone of it brought the entire argument to halt. Power infused those words, and both Davy and Walter froze at their use.

Sod drew himself inward, his humanoid body shaping into an impossible sphere with sharp edges.

“I am not here to listen to your petty squabbles,” Sod said. As he spoke, the edges of the sphere exploded outward, sending blasts of sunlight through the dark caves. “I am here to assuage your fears. Davy.”

The god flinched as Sod turned to him.

“Your concern is noted, but unneeded,” Sod said. “Walter is capable enough and his decision has given him more flexibility. He should be commended, not punished.”

“And if he dies from a careless mistake?” Davy asked.

“Then he dies,” Sod answered emotionlessly.

Davy Jones didn’t answer for a moment, the god obviously thinking on something. Then, the deity set his jaw and looked to Sod. “For as long as he has a debt, his is under my care. I won’t let his stupid actions be the death of him.”

“Then continue to mentor him,” Sod answered. “But do not speak for me, and do not make decisions for him. You forget that I made the choice to use a human soul as this world’s Death.”

Davy frowned, but nodded.

Sod turned. “And Walter.”

Walter looked up at the god, the being’s power pushing against him like a tidal wave. The man felt suffocated under Sod’s divine might, and it almost brought Walter to his knees.

“I am not a therapist. I am not someone who cares. I brought you on to do a job, and you will do it. No more complaining, or trying to avoid the issue. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Walter grunted.

He want to answer yes, but Sod’s power was unbearable. It felt like pieces of Walter were compacted together into smaller and smaller spaces to make room for more. More of what, Walter couldn’t say, only that he felt impossibly small and yet terribly large at the same time.

“Good,” Sod answered. “Now, no more of this arguing. Walter, congratulations on performing the first of your duties. I look forward to seeing how you progress.”

With that, Sod vanished, leaving Walter’s domain. The impossible feeling vanished as well, and Walter felt his legs give out. Luckily, Davy was close enough to catch the god.

“Easy there, lad,” the man said with more kindness than Walter expected.

“Who, or what, was that?” Purum asked.

Walter blinked in surprise. He’d forgotten that his helpers were still here when Sod arrived. He looked at the two of them, checking to make sure there weren’t any problems. Thankfully, neither looked hurt. It looked like Sod hadn’t extended his power past Davy and Walter.

“That,” Davy answered for Walter. “Was Sod, the creator of this universe.”

Purum blinked, her eyes growing wide. “What?!”

“Yeah, and he’s an unfeeling a-hole,” Walter complained.

“He’s an artist,” Davy answered as if that explained everything. Walter raised an eyebrow.

“Well, artists are all a bit touched in the head somewhere,” Davy answered.

“That’s a vast generalization, but okay,” Walter replied.

He wasn’t about to get into another argument with the god.

Flipper nudged Walter’s legs and squeaked.

“Yeah, I’m okay buddy,” Walter answered.

“Listen, lad,” Davy started.

Walter looked over to the sea-sprayed god. “Yeah?”

“I didn’t—well I want—no… Ah, look lad. I’m sorry.”

“Wait, really?” Walter asked.

“Yes, lad. Don’t let it get to your head,” Davy grumbled. “I had forgotten how terrifying the seas were for sailors. It’s been a long time since I ferried anyone. I should have realized how you were taking things.”

“Yeah, you should’ve,” Walter said, a hint of vitriol in his voice.

“Oh, get off yer high horse,” Davy replied. “Lad, you’re one of the strangest humans I’ve seen. You take the safe option whenever it involves you but when it involves others you risk everything. You know that’s a dangerous outlook, right?”

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Walter frowned, “I don’t do that.”

Davy rolled his eyes, then grabbed Walter by the hand and helped him up. “Lad, you spent how long trying to get every possible answer out of me and Sod, doing your best to be completely prepared. But then you go and make a half-twisted daemon into your helper because you felt sorry for it.”

“Right here,” Purum answered.

“She,” Walter said at the same time.

“Bah, regardless. You take risks when it comes to others. That concerns me, lad. It’s why I was so angry.”

Walter looked at the god who had taken him to this new land. “Why does this matter to you so much?”

Davy sighed. “Lad, every soul under me has mattered. My job is to see that you pay off your debt, no matter how much it is. I found it best to keep the souls alive for that.”

“Oh, so this is a god thing,” Walter answered, a bit saddened.

He didn’t know why the answer upset him, only that it did.

“Yes, lad. It’s a god thing. Just like you caring for another person is a human thing. So, let me know what you plan to do next time, alright? I’m not about to let you get yourself killed.”

“I thought you couldn’t kill a god?” Walter asked.

Davy rolled his eyes. “Lad, we both know that’s not true. There’s hundreds of stories in your world about gods dying, and hundreds more about them getting tortured or trapped for eternity. So don’t think for a second that you’re safe just because you’re a god.”

“Fine,” Walter answered.

“Good,” Davy replied. “Now, let’s you and me go over all those new powers of yours.”

Walter blinked, “What new powers?”

----------------------------------------

While Walter and Davy discussed, Tivwo had swam away from Walter’s domain and out of the sea. Her mother floated behind her, the soul a white blob only seen through the corner of an eye. The two arrived on the shore as daylight broke, surprising a patrolling knight.

“Goretusks girl!” the guard exclaimed. “What are you doing swimming in these seas?”

“No time,” Tivwo said. “I need to find my mother.”

The knight’s expression changed at the look of worry on Tivwo’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“My mother was attacked,” Tivwo answered. “I need to find her.”

The knight’s face paled. “Girl, I don’t know how to tell you this…”

Tivwo looked at the knight. “No, she’ll be okay. I can make things okay.”

The knight kneeled. “Look…”

“Tivwo,” the girl answered at the prompt.

“Tivwo,” the guard said. “Your mom. Well… we found her body.”

Tivwo nodded. “Where?”

The knight, thinking Tivwo was in shock, spoke as gently as he could. “We found her in a cave, near three other skeletons and who we assume was the village elder. We… we think the daemons got them.”

“Where’s her body,” Tivwo said.

The knight sighed. “We burned them. Sent them to the skies proper.”

“No!” Tivwo shouted.

She tried to push past the knight, tried to rush to the cave. The knight gripped her by the torso and held her in a hug.

“I know it’s hard,” he said.

“No! You don’t understand!” Tivwo shouted. “I have her soul! I can put it back!”

The knight, thinking the girl was babbling from the shock, held her tighter. “Shh. It’ll be okay.”

“Let me go!” Tivwo shrieked.

She couldn’t let all of her work, everything she’d done, go to waste because someone burned her mother’s corpse! She kicked at the knight, bruising her toes on the man’s armor. Punches were the same.

“Let me go!” she screamed again. “I can save momma! Let me go!”

“Shh. It’s okay,” the knight said. He started to rock Tivwo back and forth. “Shhh.”

Tivwo’s cries turned to sobs as she realized the knight wasn’t going to let her go. The crushing weight of failure rocked her body. All that work, traveling down past where water existed, making a wager with Walter, just to fail at the last moment because a well-meaning knight wanted to comfort her.

It made her want to curse the world.

“Momma, I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

Something gentle brushed against Tivwo’s cheek. At first, the woman thought it was the knight attempting to comfort her, but the feeling against her cheek wasn’t that of a hand. There wasn’t the warmth of another body, but the softness of woven fibers.

Tivwo opened her eyes to see the ribbon her mother tied into her hair every morning stroking her cheek.

The girl blinked away the tears, then rubbed them out with a hand. Still, the ribbon moved, gently stroking her cheek just like her mother did whenever she cried.

“M-mom?” she stuttered.

The ribbon brushed a few stray hairs away from Tivwo’s face, then wiped the tears away.

Don’t cry. Tivwo heard in her head. I’m still here. I’ll always be with you.

Tears welled in Tivwo’s eyes again, this time from joy. “Mom!”

The knight, now thoroughly bewildered, pulled himself out of the hug. He fell back in surprise when he saw Tivwo’s ribbon stroking the girl’s hair.

“What is going on here?” a voice said.

The knight turned. “Captain!”

Tivwo glanced over at the new arrivals, but turned back to her mother once she saw who they were. The knight commander stopped in his tracks when he arrived, his gaze fixed on the moving ribbon.

“By ancestors,” he muttered.

“Captain, is it what I think it is?” the knight asked.

The commander nodded slowly. “I think it is.”

The commander walked softly to Tivwo, then knelt down next to her. “Girl. Can you tell me where you got that ribbon?”

“It’s mine,” Tivwo said. “My mom gave it to me on my eighth birthday.”

“And how is it moving?” the commander asked gently.

“Mom’s in it,” Tivwo answered. “I made a deal for her and was going to put her back in her body but you all burned it. So now she’s here.”

“It can’t be,” the knight said. “It can’t be a soul weapon.”

“I think it is,” the commander answered with a frown.

“Soul weapons require a ritual and a pure weapon!” the knight exclaimed. “This can’t be one! Whoever heard of a ribbon as a weapon?”

“Well, she isn’t possessed,” the commander said. “You can see that as well as I can. The only answer I have is that it’s a soul weapon.”

The knight frowned. “So, what do we do?”

The commander sighed. He knew what the knight was saying. The monarchs, while generally better than the authoritarian pantheon of gods across the seas, didn’t take kindly to anything that might upset their balance of power. If word of this got out, about how a simple fishing girl created a soul weapon with her mother’s soul and a bit of ribbon, the monarchy would do everything it could to stamp it out.

There were already enough threats in the world, the monarchs wouldn’t allow for another one.

For a brief moment, the commander thought about ending the girl here. He felt guilty as soon as the thought crossed his mind. The girl in front of him was a child, barely old enough to start learning the sword. He couldn’t snuff out that life on the off chance the girl became a threat to the kingdom’s stability.

“We say nothing,” the commander decided. “We continue to patrol and search for the daemons.”

“You don’t have to worry about them anymore,” Tivwo said.

The commander raised an eyebrow, and Tivwo started to retell her tale.