I don't remain idle while my son searches.

[LEVEL UP!] [You reached Level 16!] [You have 7 unspent skill points]

My island is renewed, all the damage and destruction wrought by the Others erased. More, now it yawns immense, reaching as deep in the Sky as a true land. It takes me time now to run from one side of my domain to the other, a pastime that fills my Core with delight.

Large as it has become, Al’Huota is in need of proper organization. It’s a task I put myself to with energy, and it’s not long that my island is divided into domains.

The Garden is a stretch of land given over to my coming children. There’s happiness here, and the air is filled with the laughter of yet unseen little ones. Golden grass sways, barely bending underfoot, and the leaves of the golden trees chime with glee. Here, my children will frolic and play in the meadows; they'll tumble on the grass and chase each other amongst the boughs.

The great, blooming tree towers at the center of the Garden, now an ancient thing of gleaming bark and gentle shadow. I imagine my children fill its branches, their voices like so many tinkling bells. The Treehouse hangs there, and they'll come and go from it, fluttering wings and hearts of light.

This is a place of peace, of unchanging purity and eternal spring. Nothing can be allowed to disrupt it, and so I built a wall around it, so tall and so strong that not even Gods could mount an assault with the hope of breaching it. There’s only an entrance to the Garden, and it’s barred by a door marked with glyphs of death and dissolution. If the wall is unassailable, the lock of the door is unbreakable; its only key is my own finger.

It saddens me that this land of happiness is to be restrained to such a small corner of my realm, but there’s nothing to do about it. As long as there exists even the vague trace of Others, my children won’t ever be safe, and I won’t ever allow terror’s sting to touch them again. But when my work is done, I will throw down those walls, and the Garden will encompass all.

One day.

The Laboratory is where I store my creations, a field of wonders, gleaming metal and sparkling energy, all of them focused into an array of carefully orchestrated meaning. This is where the future is built. This is where I pool my inspiration and work to create a surging energy, one whose tendrils dance across all of my creations, one that connects them in a gestating form that one day will reach a critical mass and expand to engulf all the Sky.

But for now, it’s nothing but a vault where my experiments and creations are stored. Like the Garden, a wall has been built around it, to keep its precious content from being disturbed or plundered by Others.

Another wall has been built around my Workshop, and another door, but no modification has been made to the Workshop itself. If I have my way, and I will, It will remain as it is forever.

The rest of my island is given to the Monoliths. It’s a land of golden rock and sand, silent shapes and coronas of light shimmering with motes of light. If the Garden is child-like purity and peace, and the Laboratory is inspiration and work, this is the domain of Growth, constant and unchanging determination.

I enjoy walking across the golden sand. It does good for my inspiration.

Still, as my island grows, so its creative energies spread and excite. Half-formed creatures emerge from the corners where the light and the shadow nestle together, all of them progeny of disorder and Chaos. It’s inevitable, since the Sky’s presence is and remains, even here where I am at my strongest, and my energy and my island’s energy mixes with it, with unpredictable but always birth-related effects. My island has swollen so large that sometimes its pregnancy gives rise even to a creature as large as a Creator. Homewreckers, all of them, vermins that spend their pitiful existences suckling over my sands, preying over each other or yearning over desires they aren’t developed enough to understand.

I can feel them the moment they spring into existence. I can feel the mite-thing nestling in the sand, or the living granulate carving a niche in a floor. I feel the behemoth burrowing out of the rock, flailing with its many mouths as it seeks for something it cannot understand.

Feeding that the Sky hands me, like a mother hen pouring nectar down my chick throat. My island feeds well on them, but I cannot tolerate the constant interruptions.

So I spark a new birth, this time, in my island itself. Fed by the streams of life harvested by the Others, a new conscience quickens in the bowels of sand of Al’Huota. An intellect born and built to police, to keep order, to stomp on unwanted growth. In place of hands, I give it my sand’s hunger, spears and eyes.

The Unblinking A coscience nestled deep in Al’Huota’s life-brimming sands. It always watches, it always seeks for things that shouldn’t be there.

Hand of the Unblinking A soldier shaped out of golden flame and flickering mist. It’s single eye peers out unceasingly. The spear it holds with a hand of fire gleams with a pale light. It cannot be deterred. It cannot be deceived.

The Hands patrol my island without rest, locating and scything down any and all unwanted presences. My cleaners, my teeth, throwing morsels down my maw. Keeping my island pure.

They won’t remain forever, but for now, their work is needed.

I stare out over my island, pleased, when my child contacts me.

The enemy is close, Mother, he says, speeding toward it.

Izilianchi’s soul burns with red-hot anger. I will shred it, Mother, he says, and his voice crackles with lightning’s fury. I will rip it asunder and disperse its essence into the Sky. I will annihilate it.

I hum, agreeing with his zeal. It’s good I have made my preparations.

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Sun Allmighty – Grows the power of your physical form, granting access to divine armaments and powers. - Ouroboros: more energy flows into your frame. Your physical form and Weapon grow stronger. You can unlock the first piece of Divine Armor. Smith of the Beginning – Increases your ability for Creation, spreading your influence through the magnitude and complexity of your works. - Secunda: filaments spun out of solid light, this material is as graceful and ethereal as it’s strong. Its half-spiritual, half-material nature allows for an all-new level of breathtaking architecture and complexity. Radiance Eternal – Focuses on the influence your existence has over the surrounding world, allowing higher control both over yourself and that which falls under your purview. - Your Maker’s Hand Upon You: your influence takes root inside of your most devoted followers, springing into new strength. You can infuse part of your power into creatures under your influence, making them stronger. Lesser creatures may be unable to sustain the burden. All-Devourer – Refines your hunger for souls, increasing the ways you can sate it and make use of what you consume. - Eyes in my Maw: your hunger takes a discerning eye. You snatch pieces of meaning and memories by materials and beings you devour, before consigning them to yourself. Sun Allmighty – Grows the power of your physical form, granting access to divine armaments and powers.

- The Fury of the Sun: your might shines as bright as a star. You unlock a new Divine Weapon and your physical form becomes even more powerful.

Sun Allmighty – Grows the power of your physical form, granting access to divine armaments and powers. - More Hands, to Grasp: your power increases and so does your reach. A new piece of Divine Armor is unlocked. Radiance Eternal – Focuses on the influence your existence has over the sorrounding world, allowing higher control both over yourself and that which falls under your purview.

- An Unmerciful Change: beings under your purview become clay for you to shape. Some lesser creatures may not survive the change unscathed.

As soon as I finish making my choices, the change comes over me.

It’s a sweet pain as I bend backward, my skin of liquid gold splitting open. My chest disappears in a swirl of star-like lights, at the center of which my Core shines. My limbs lengthen once more, my legs turning almost spindly as all of my being enlarges. My eyes shine more brightly, and some of my hair split from the rest; the lower sections of them turn solid, encased into sheaths of gold, ornately carved and covered with burnished D’Uli.

My Circle of Light trembles and jolts, before a smaller copy emerges from its frame, taking its place inside of it. Three pinnacles-like protrusions emerge from the top of the larger ring, reaching above my shoulders and head.

I throw my head back as the rapture of birthing is added to the pain of transformation.

When it all ends, I settle myself down gently, watching.

I’ve become… more.

I brush the gently swirling current filling the great hole in my chest. This is armor. Divine Armor, for my Core. With a thought, my ribbon-like hair rises before my eyes. This is Armor too.

But my weapon?

I hold my hand out. A bar of golden light emerges silently into being, settling into a solid shape as I close my fingers around it.

The weapon is slender but deadly. Spidery, minuscule script covers the handle in a spiral pattern; it emerges to form a a slowly rotating circle of glowing scripture at the base of the blade. The blade itself is a single , focused bar of light and golden flame, searing the space around in a sight-bending glow.

Anidrru, the Spear

The spear of the Goddess, wrought out of the Goddess’ very soul. As such, it grows as the Goddess grows, increasing in power as it does.

Anidrru is a Divine-Class Weapon.

My spear… the familiarity is the same for my own arm. As it should be.

Au’Makh emerges from my being, enticed by the existence of a similar thing to itself. It leans toward it, before sinking into it. An eye opens just beneath the gleaming blade of the weapon.

I smile. A spear is proper for piercing a beast’s heart.

A sound of battle and fury erupts into my mind. My son couldn’t hold himself back, or Azakar found him first.

It matters not.

Azakar, the Creator Beast Class: Divine Beast Level: 10.540

It has grown since our last meeting, but this doesn’t deter Izilianchi.

Die, monster! For my siblings! For my Mother!

I feel my child fighting, his fierceness a burning taste on my tongue. I feel the flesh he has sunk his beak into, the golden blood streaming down his leg where a claw raked him. It’s moving, but I fear it won’t be enough.

I flick my will outward to help him.

Izilianchi, the Elder Brother Class: Divine Beast Level: 11.000 Avatar of the Goddess: The power of Aura the Golden fills you!

There’s a terrible crash, as if lightning ripping apart a mountain, and a roar of pain.

I grin. Well done, my son.

It won't be enough to end the monster, of course, but that is just what I desire. It'll be my spear to put an end to Azakar's transgressions, and none else.

My son hesitates for the briefest moment at my order to withdraw, his mind a vortex of ferocious ecstasy. Still, he's dutiful, and obeys. Through his eyes, Isee Azakar's retreating form. I sniff in disdain, my ribbons curling and flickering as maws open and close on their surface. The beast can stew in fear for some time, I reckon. A just punishment.

But enough of that. More pressing matters await.

Ilienta sheds its leaves like tears, a sight that would be bittersweet if not for what it heralds. Excitation warring with apprehension, I run around, setting fruits on the boughs, growing that tree in a different way and straightening this herb.

I am so busy that I almost miss the moment.

The flower settles without a sound among the grass, before picking itself up. What was the stalk connecting it to the bough bifurcates, turning into short legs. The petals flow back, becoming an ample robe of gold. The creature - my child! - gracefully stand up, little fingers straightening his robe in an instinctive gesture. His face is rounded and plump, with chubby, rosy cheeks and round eyes. They fill with child-like wonder as he looks around, before his gaze settles on me.

I shift a little, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden, but then affection bursts, and I dash to him.

The little thing is small, smaller than my fist, smaller than my nose. She jumps a little as I slam to the ground, my face towering over her even at the same level.

"Hi there!" I say.

The Goldling shies back a little, embarrassed, and I try and fail to repress the little squeal at how cute she is.

"Don't you worry about a thing, sweetling," I coo, delighted. "Mommy is here. You recognize mommy, don't you?"

The Goldling watches me, her thoughts radiating with vague uncertainty. For a moment, panic almost overwhelms me. Did I make some mistake in the purification process? Have some impurities remained from her previous incarnation? It would spell disaster for the whole batch!

The Goldling smiles shyly, and my doubts melt away.

"Mommy...!" She spells, her voice a tiny little note, as she reaches for me with trembling hands.

Oh joy joy joy! Eternal joy! My daughter!

I welcome her in my embrace, holding it gently, reverently. I close my eyes as I press her against my cheek, both her thoughts, filled with loving recognition, and body briefly fusing with my skin. Oh, my little light... Mommy will always be here for you.

More flowers fall, gentle glowing rain falling from Ilienta. Each blooms into a Goldling, each and all of them pure and perfect in their love for their Mother, all their thoughts only for joy and peace and love.

As I gather them, their voices echo into my mind like so many singing drops.

"What are we, Mother?" They ask. "What is our purpose? Tell us, Mother, tell us!" Some of them take flight, turning into owls of golden sand and back to their child-like forms as they soar and dance.

There's no urgency or fret in the question. They trust me without condition, not even dreaming that something like doubt or hatred could even exist. They don't even beg for names, but their merciful Mother will bestow one upon each and every single one of them, gentle creatures that they are.

As I gave them both names and purpose, Au-Makh and Aniddru was a tense string in the back of my mind. I already hated Others for their potential for disruption, but that they could bring harm to these sweet children? They lust for razing the Sky of the slimmest chance for such a horror from ever happening.

It almost matches my own ferocious desire.