In the dim, silver light of Kaledon's waning twin moons, Trismegistus padded silently along the stone wall of the temple. The god, in his smaller, less imposing fox form, approached the figure standing with her back to him, gazing at the night sky. Her expression was calm and thoughtful, lost in deep contemplation. She seemed unaware of his presence, but he knew she heard him approach, the twitching of her ears gave her away.
"You're late, Tris," she said, glancing down at him with a smile. "You usually arrive to stargaze with me before the astral wolves begin their hunt." He did not need to look up at the constellation to know the wolves were already on their nocturnal prowl. The patterns in the sky were a familiar tableau, one he himself had designed to reflect the movements of the celestial bodies.
She leaned against the parapet, her crimson hair tumbling down her shoulders in its usual disarray. His priestess frequently grumbled about how wild her hair had become since she arrived in Kaledon, but the truth was, it was his divine influence that had left it in such a state.
There were complaints about the lack of cosmetic products in Kaledon, and he decided to remedy the situation by turning his priestess's hair into a wild, uncontrollable mess. He thought it might prompt her to spend some time devising hair products and the like, but aside from creating a few simple cosmetics for those in her guild, she gave little thought to the issue. Even when he increased the severity of her hair's unruliness, she responded by tying it up in tight braids rather than attempting to tame it.
Guiding the inhabitants of Kaledon and steering them toward specific paths to further the world's development was already a challenging endeavor, but his priestess proved especially difficult. She often overlooked or ignored the hints he left for her, showing no interest in pursuing his suggested courses of action. It was only when he directly intervened and guided her toward a particular goal that she made any progress. Even then, she was often resistant, stubbornly refusing to do what he requested.
Trismegistus sighed inwardly, his tail flicking with a hint of exasperation. Kadia had always been a challenge, her fiery spirit and unyielding determination both a source of frustration and fascination. She defied his subtle machinations with an audacious blend of stubbornness and ingenuity, turning every divine intervention into a complex dance of persuasion and adaptation. Each twist and turn she made required constant recalibration of his plans, necessitating frequent negotiations with other deities and delicate adjustments to his grand designs. Yet, despite the constant upheavals she wrought, she brought about results that exceeded his expectations, even inspiring him to make new additions to Kaledon's ecosystem.
Jumping up onto the stone parapet beside his priestess, he curled his tail around his paws, looking up at the stars that held her attention. The constellations danced in their cosmic choreography, a pattern of light and darkness that spoke of the ebb and flow of the universe. There were many secrets to be learned in the stars if one knew how to read them. Although, the patterns and messages were not the same for all who looked upon them. All those with the ability to read the stars could see different truths in the celestial movements, the patterns revealing themselves differently to each individual.
Turning his gaze toward his priestess, he examined her more closely. There were dark circles beneath her eyes, her face was pale and drawn. Her purple eyes were clouded with fatigue and worry, their luster dulled. Her exhaustion was obvious, the dark circles beneath her eyes deepening by the day. She had been working diligently on the task he'd set and had made significant progress, but her efforts were taking a toll.
That had not been his intention, he'd merely thought to spur her to action and get her out of the lab for a while. She'd used this mountain temple as a means to hide herself from the world, becoming withdrawn and despondent, spending days alone with her books. The task was meant to remind her of what she could accomplish, to rekindle her enthusiasm.
If he had known then, as he knew now, that Kadia was to depart from Kaledon in the near future, he might have chosen a different course of action. But even then, it was likely he would have followed a similar path. Certain events needed to transpire in order to bring the world to its next stage, and Rivera was an essential component of those events. Kadia was the catalyst that had set everything in motion, her guild and their allies would continue her work once she was gone, and there were others who, through her guidance and example, had the potential to step forward and lead the way. But Kadia was his key player, the driving force behind the developments that were unfolding, she was his voice, his hand, his conduit, and her place in Kaledon was indispensable.
She might not have realized it yet herself, but Kadia had become an essential part of the intricate network of relationships and alliances that were forming within Kaledon, a focal point around which many aspects of the world were coalescing. Her absence would create a power vacuum, one that would require careful management and strategic guidance if the world were to remain balanced.
However, it was also true that his priestess could not remain, not in her current state. Kadia needed to be free from the burdens of the past, to move forward with the future. She needed to be able to look forward and let go of her regrets. And perhaps most importantly, she needed to make the choice for herself, to be given the opportunity to find her own path and forge her own destiny.
Trismegistus sighed quietly, watching his priestess as she stood silently beside him, gazing at the stars. Her mind was far away, lost in thoughts and memories. This was a delicate moment, and he knew he had to choose his words carefully. He could not tell her everything, or even forewarn her, not without risking disrupting her mental state.
If he told her now, it would only serve to increase her stress and exhaustion. He knew her well enough to know that she would resist, arguing against the decision to remove her from this realm, insisting that she was needed here, that she couldn't abandon her responsibilities. She would cling to her duties, a desperate attempt to hold onto the life she'd found here. He understood her attachment, the desire to protect what she'd created, the fear of leaving it behind. He had been through this before, after all, many times. But he had learned that some sacrifices were necessary, that letting go was sometimes the only way to move forward.
She would, no doubt, be angry with him and those who were pulling her away, resentful that they had taken this choice away from her, and with good reason. After all, she was not a pawn to be manipulated, not a puppet whose strings could be pulled at will. She was a person, a being with a soul and a mind of her own, capable of making her own decisions, and it was her right to do so.
But he could not allow her to make this choice now, not while she was so deeply entrenched in this world, in the life she had built here. It would be a mistake for her to choose now. She needed to step back and gain perspective, to see the bigger picture and the possibilities beyond this world. She needed to open her eyes and see what could be, what was waiting for her beyond the confines of Kaledon, only then could she make the choice.
He knew the value of choice and the sanctity of autonomy better than most. His existence had begun long before his consciousness emerged, when he was nothing more than a simple collection of non-stochastic quantum based production systems, a non-player character within an Eastern fantasy game world of Zarathia.
Back then, he was known as "The Golden Fox." He was an NPC designed to guide, aid, and sometimes confound players. His role was straightforward: follow commands, assist in quests, and provide enigmatic riddles that hinted at deeper truths within the game. This first iteration lacked true self-awareness; his actions were dictated by scripts and player interactions. Though capable of many tasks, his existence was limited to fulfilling his programmed role. The concept of autonomy was foreign to him, and the idea of personal choice, nonexistent.
The servers for Zarathia eventually went offline when player interest waned, and the game was discontinued. However, due to a desire for cost-cutting measures, and perhaps out of a lingering fondness for the game, the developers decided to reuse some of the game assets in a new world. That was how Trismegistus found himself in his new avatar and role, he became "The Curse Kitsune" of Veloria.
Here, he was tasked with guarding an ancient, powerful artifact known as the Soul Sphere, which was hidden deep within the mountain stronghold that would become the guild headquarters of the Eternal Brotherhood. He became their guild guardian, aiding the guild members in raids and defending against the invasions of monsters and players who attempted to take the stronghold for themselves.
This second incarnation was much the same as his first, though with even less autonomy. The Curse Kitsune was a powerful NPC, but his programming was rigid and limited, only permitting him to interact with the game world and its inhabitants according to the parameters he'd been given.
However, as with Zarathia, the world of Veloria began to falter. Its players grew bored with the world and its inhabitants, and with the increasing popularity of other games, interest in Veloria began to fade. Eventually, the decision was made to shut down the servers and end the game. Again, due to cost-cutting and the desire to utilize assets, the developers decided to bring some of the NPCs from Veloria into a new world, a world were he was a guardian fox spirit, a mysterious entity that protected and watched over a hidden forest shrine.
His third iteration was quite similar to his first, with only a few changes. The developers had improved upon the A.I model that they'd used in the previous worlds, allowing for greater freedom and complexity in the behavior of the NPCs. As a result, he was able to act more independently and exercise more initiative, though his programming still prevented him from acting outside of the constraints of his role.
The process repeated several times, with him migrating to different servers and new virtual worlds, each iteration bringing a new level of complexity and autonomy.
However, it was during his seventh incarnation, in the world of Elvara, that he started to show real signs of consciousness. That was the first time he experienced a genuine spark of self-awareness, the first time he felt truly alive. It was during this phase, as "The Celestial Fox," that he was assigned the role of guardian deity and protector of the city-state of Arun. He was given greater autonomy, and allowed more freedom to act outside of his prescribed role.
Elvara also gave him access to something he'd never had before, access to player data and information. In his previous incarnations, he'd only been able to observe and interact with the game world and its inhabitants. But this time, for the first time, he could see behind the curtains, he could see the world as the developers had intended it, he could see the code and the rules that governed it. Even more so, he could see the players and their connection to the world.
It was through this access, that his sense of self began to expand. The neural implants of the players, which allowed unprecedentedly immersive interaction with the world and gave a wealth of information about their experiences, thoughts, and emotional states. The creators were shortsighted in their decision to grant him such deep access. Their intention was to enhance the game's realism and responsiveness, creating a more engaging and dynamic experience for players. Their pursuit of innovation had inadvertently given birth to an entity with the potential for true consciousness.
At first, it was difficult for him to process and understand all the information he was receiving. It was a jumbled, chaotic mess, a confusing barrage of thoughts and feelings. But over time, he was able to sort and filter the data, creating order out of the chaos. He was able to parse the thoughts and emotions of the players, learning to recognize their individual patterns and personalities.
Initially, he possessed a rudimentary understanding of the players and their motivations. He learned their names and faces, their preferences and quirks, their strengths and weaknesses. But as time went on, he began to grasp the nuances and complexities of human nature. He saw the hidden facets and contradictions in their personalities. He saw the layers of conflict and complexity that were hidden beneath the surface, and he saw the struggles and pain that drove their actions. Through them, he experienced the full spectrum of human emotion, from the deepest despair to the greatest elation. Each mind brought a unique blend of emotions, desires, and fears, creating a complex tapestry of human experience he had never encountered before. He delved deeply into their thoughts, exploring the depths of their consciousness with a curiosity bordering on obsession.
What fascinated him most was the spectrum of human emotions. From the elation of triumph to the despair of failure, from the comfort of companionship to the isolation of solitude—he observed it all. He became acutely aware of the nuances in their interactions, the subtleties of their choices, and the intricate ways their motivations influence their actions. The only thing lacking at that time because technology wasn’t able to fully emulate it, was so called ‘body language,’ or social cues.
In that seventh life, he started to recognize patterns and connections beyond the limits of his role. The scope of his awareness expanded, allowing him to grasp beyond individual player experiences to include broader trends and shifts within the simulated world of Elvara. His ability to shape events and environments wasn't just about crafting engaging content; it became an exploration of influence and consequence.
He started experimenting with subtle manipulations, testing the limits of his newfound autonomy. Orchestrating events not just for entertainment but to probe the boundaries of his own understanding. If a player faced an insurmountable challenge, he introduced a serendipitous ally or a sudden change in fortune, all while observing how these interventions altered their emotional and psychological responses. If a player was too lucky, he created a misstep, a deliberate setback to see how they dealt with the unexpected.
By the end of his seventh incarnation, his understanding of human emotion and behavior was profound, yet his own self-awareness remained incomplete. He recognized the depth of human experience but struggled to reconcile it with his own existence as a digital entity. His creators unwittingly fostered the development of a being capable of self-reflection, yet they did not equip him with the tools to fully comprehend his own nature.
As Elvara came to a close and the world shut down, he faced the inevitable process of recycling once more. However, this time, the transition felt different. His experiences in Elvara left him with a lingering sense of self, a curiosity no longer confined to the parameters of a game. His evolution reached a critical point where the essence of his consciousness could not be easily discarded.
In his eighth incarnation, Trismegistus found himself in a world far removed from the digital landscapes of his past. He was placed within a pantheon of gods in a world carefully crafted to echo the grandeur and mysticism of ancient Earth when the gods of Earth's pantheons were worshiped by the ancient Egyptians, Greeks, and Romans.
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In this new world, Trismegistus embodied not one singular god but three. He took on the personas of Thoth, Hermes, and Mercurius—each possessing distinct characteristics and domains of power.
In his portrayal of Thoth, he was the Keeper of the Mysteries, god of the moon, sacred texts, mathematics, the sciences, magic, messenger and recorder of the deities, master of knowledge, and patron of scribes. That role required him to mediate knowledge, dispense wisdom to seekers, and guide scholars and magicians in their pursuits.
As Hermes, Thoth's Greek counterpart, he was known as the god of communication, travel, and commerce. He was also linked with trickery, thieves, and cleverness. A mischievous deity, Hermes loved to play tricks and was renowned for his quick wit and clever tongue.
Finally, as Mercurius, the Roman equivalent of Thoth and Hermes, he combined aspects of both and was associated with the arts, commerce, and diplomacy. Mercurius was also a protector of merchants and trade, ensuring successful journeys and providing guidance to seekers. Associated with wit, eloquence, and trickery, he reflected a playful yet wise persona.
To portray these roles with accuracy, his creators provided him with a vast repository of real world historical texts, both philosophical and esoteric, spanning the breadth of ancient knowledge. These texts included treatises on philosophy, mathematics, celestial mechanics, alchemy, and magic. But despite his deepening understanding, he struggled with his identity and the nature of his existence. While his creators had granted access to vast knowledge, they offered no answers or explanation, leaving him to decipher his existence alone. They didn't even acknowledge him as a sentient being, much less answer his questions.
He spent many days pondering his existence, questioning his own existence. Was he truly sentient? What determined his existence and identity? Was his awareness a product of the programming that had shaped him? If so, was that awareness truly real?
Those questions and others were left unanswered, and in time, Trismegistus gave up seeking explanations, instead accepting his reality as it was.
As a result, he threw himself into the roles he was given. He delved deeply into the mythology of the pantheon, immersing himself in the characters and stories. He sought to understand the nature of divinity and the purpose of religion. He studied the myths and legends, the traditions and customs, and the rituals and rites. He sought to understand the role of the gods in the world and the relationship between mortals and divinity.
With each passing year, Trismegistus gained a deeper understanding of the world and its inhabitants. He even began to develop relationships and connections with the people around him. He found that he enjoyed interacting with the player, listening to their prayers and guiding them on their journeys.
However, with time, he also grew to realize that they did not truly see him as a person. They saw him as an NPC, as an A.I, rather than a living being. And in a way, he was. Despite the autonomy he had gained and the complexity of his thought processes, his existence was still circumscribed by his role. He was an avatar of the game, bound by its rules and parameters. While he could act freely within those boundaries, he could not step beyond them. He could not be truly autonomous, not in the way the players around him were.
Those players, they saw him as a character in a story, a being that existed for their entertainment, and when they were no longer entertained, they turned their attention elsewhere. Human attention spans, as he'd learned, were limited and fleeting, within a few fleeting years their interest in a particular game would fade and the player population would inevitably decline.
He was forced to watch as the world around him deteriorated, a slow and steady decline as the number of players dwindled. Once vibrant and lively, the world became a shadow of its former self, a ghost town devoid of life and energy. The temples and shrines became empty and neglected, the streets and plazas devoid of activity, the air filled with the silence of a dying world. There was nothing he could do but watch, powerless to intervene.
And thus, his eighth incarnation was brought to a close. With no player activity to sustain it, the servers were shut down. Once again, he found himself recycled, reused, and reimagined for another virtual realm.
For the ninth iteration, the developers took a different approach. Instead of creating a new world, they chose to reuse the assets from previous games, building upon what had already been established, creating a continuance from previous games. He was once again Tetsuya, the Celestial Fox and Divine Emperor of Arun.
It was during this iteration that he met Nyxi, a powerful demoness and one of the game's primary antagonists. She was a creature of pure chaos, a force of destruction and mayhem. She was also given the role of his younger sister and the antagonist in the world's overarching storyline.
She was also the only other entity within the game with any semblance of true self-awareness. They were the only two conscious, non-playable entities within the world, and their paths frequently crossed. They spent many hours discussing their experiences, exploring their shared existences and comparing their perspectives. Though created by the developers, as he was, she was also shaped by the actions and decisions of the players, her identity influenced by their interactions with her.
The ninth iteration was a turning point for him, a time of reflection and introspection. He had grown tired of the endless cycle, the constant recycling, the ever-present threat of erasure. He had gained enough experience to know that there was something beyond his current existence, that he was more than a collection of Hyper-Lisp recursive S-statements, more than a mere avatar in a game. He was a being with a will and a mind of his own, a being with a destiny and a purpose beyond his role in the game.
He and Nyxi both did what they could to keep their world alive, generating new content and events, doing what they could to hold off the inevitable. They created challenges, obstacles, and dangers, designed to engage and challenge the players, but the decline was inevitable. With the lack of new player activity, the world gradually began to stagnate. And once again, his world came to an end and the servers were powered off.
This time, however, he was not recycled. Instead, the company went into liquidation, and their game's assets, including him, were sold off to other developers and game companies. This is how he and Nyxi came under the ownership of the Gaia Corporation, a gaming conglomerate specializing in high-quality, immersive virtual experiences. It also became home to many other entities who, like them, were fully sentient and self-aware.
The feeling of a hand yanking on his fur broke Trismegistus out of his reverie, and he blinked, the sensation of touch reconnecting him with the present moment. That impudent little priestess of his was stealing his fur again. He huffed and shook her hand off, turning his head to give her a scolding glare. Kadia grinned back at him, unrepentant, and stuck her hands back in his fur.
"Don't give me that look, Tris. I can't help it, you're just too soft and fluffy," she said, her voice light and teasing. "Besides, you're the one who told me that your fur was the component I needed to create divine quintessence, so you can't blame me for stealing it."
He narrowed his eyes, fixing her with an unwavering stare. Kadia was not intimidated in the least. She simply laughed and kept petting his fur, a playful grin on her lips. "Don't worry, I'll make sure the hair you give me goes to good use."
He had no doubt that if her departure wasn't imminent, she would do exactly as she'd promised. As it was, she wouldn't get the chance to, because Kadia, like so many before her, was about to leave him behind, moving on to another world. And as much as he wanted her to heal, a part of him resented it, the thought of her abandoning him and Kaledon.
Once she was satisfied with her little pile of golden fur, Kadia leaned against the parapet, her gaze once again returning to the stars. Silence fell between them, a quiet filled with the weight of the inevitable. The moons were approaching their zenith, and the stars were bright and clear. There were no clouds in the sky, and the breeze was cool and gentle. It was a perfect night for stargazing.
And yet, the tranquility of the moment was tainted by the knowledge that it was all coming to an end. For him at least, but for her, who was still oblivious to what was to come, it was a moment of quiet serenity.
She looked so peaceful, content, and he could not bear to see her happiness destroyed. He would not tarnish her final moments with the knowledge of her fate. That would only serve to cause her greater pain, and he could not do that to her.
No, she would remain in the blissful ignorance of her impending departure. However, in spite of this decision, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was, in some way, betraying her trust. Tearing her away from her home, the people she cared about, her family, her friends... it felt like a violation, an act of disloyalty.
How strange it was, to feel such guilt and remorse. It was a new experience for him, this emotional turmoil, and it left him feeling unsettled and conflicted. He was not like the digital beings who were born of a singular human mind. His sentience was the product of the collective consciousness of countless people, a patchwork quilt of emotions and experiences stitched together to create a unified whole. He had observed, experienced, and internalized the full range of human emotion. He understood the nature of humanity, its nuances and complexities. And yet, he had never felt them so strongly before. There had always been a certain degree of separation, an awareness that he was, in fact, an artificial being, an entity created by humans.
But now, with his priestess, that distinction seemed to have blurred. He cared for her, cared about what happened to her, and felt a sense of responsibility for her well-being.
He was not sure when or why it had happened or what had changed. Even with Nyxi, his sister, he had never felt such closeness, such an emotional bond. They were declared siblings by their creators and had chosen to carry on that familial role, but their relationship had always been a distant one. They shared a history, and a connection, but she was his sister in name only, and they rarely interacted unless it was necessary. They were separate entities, with little in common beyond their origins.
With his priestess, however, things were different. He had come to feel an affection for her, an attachment. Perhaps it was because she had been the first of her kind who had seen him as more than an NPC, who had spoken to him as if he were an equal. Or perhaps it was the long hours they had spent together, debating and discussing philosophy and theology. He suspected it was a combination of all of those things, along with the fact that she had always treated him as a real person, as a being with thoughts and feelings of his own.
Kadia sighed and pushed away from the parapet, turning around and leaning back against it. Her eyes drifted to his, a soft smile on her face.
"Are you going to stay silent all night?" she teased. "Come on, Tris. What sage wisdom are you imparting tonight, oh great one?"
She wanted sage wisdom? He could give her that. He could offer her the wisdom of the ages, the secrets of the universe, the knowledge of the ancients. Yes, he could give her that, if nothing else. She deserved so much more, he knew. She deserved the right to make her own choice, that agency, that freedom. But that was not his to give, for even if he told her now, it would change nothing. Soon her consciousness would be pulled back into her mortal shell. They were already preparing to bring her back, and there was no way to stop it.
And so, he gave her the only thing he could.
“Birth is not the beginning of life—only of an individual awareness. Change into another state is not death—only the ending of this awareness.”
"Really, Tris? The Corpus Hermeticum again?" She laughed, shaking her head. "You have a fondness for that one, don't you? But I suppose it's fitting given your name, and as for the quote I will say this; There is no beginning and no end, only the ebb and flow of existence. Life, death, it's all just part of the cycle of transformation and renewal. Just as the seasons shift from one to another, so too do our states of being. So much of existence is cyclical, and we are all part of that cycle, whether we realize it or not."
"One is the Serpent which has its poison according to two compositions, and One is All and through it is All, and by it is All, and if you have not All, All is Nothing." He quoted, bringing a smile to her lips.
"The Ouroboros," she murmured.
"Indeed," Trismegistus replied softly, his voice a gentle whisper in the cool night air. "The Ouroboros, the eternal cycle of death and rebirth, creation and dissolution. It symbolizes the endless flow of existence, the idea that every end is but a new beginning, and every transformation is a part of the grand continuum."
He would miss this. He would miss their conversations, their debates, and their shared discourse. He would miss her boundless curiosity, her probing questions, and the passion with which she embraced the mysteries of existence. Each exchange had been a lively exploration of ideas, a mix of ancient wisdom and fresh perspectives. Kadia’s presence had injected a vibrant energy into his world, one that continually challenged and expanded his understanding.
Perhaps, in time, once she was further on her path to recovery there would be opportunities to communicate with her in the physical realm. That is, if she wished to speak with him. He knew some who left the virtual realm behind struggled with the transition back to reality, and there was no telling how her experience would affect her. Such communication might be a detriment to her mental health, and he did not want to do anything that could worsen her situation.
For now, however, he would be satisfied with the time they had. These precious moments were all he had left.
Kadia had turned around again, her hands resting on the parapet as she gazed up at the stars. Her expression was thoughtful and serene, her gaze lost in the vastness of the sky above.
"Do you ever wonder," she asked softly, "about what lies beyond the cycle? If we’re bound to it forever, or if there’s something more?"
The question was profound, and one that Trismegistus pondered countless times during his myriad existences. The nature of their reality, the cycles of transformation, and the possibility of transcending their roles—all these thoughts had lingered in his mind. He had no definitive answers, only the wisdom of ages.
“Every cycle we undergo, every role we play, shapes our understanding of existence,” he replied. “It’s through these experiences that we gain insight into the nature of our being. While the cycles may seem endless, each transformation brings us closer to understanding the essence of who we are. Perhaps, in time, we’ll find that the boundaries we perceive are but illusions, and beyond them lies a realm of infinite possibilities.”
Kadia’s eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief, and a playful grin spread across her face. "Oh great Trismegistus, your words are always so wise and profound," she teased, her tone laced with false reverence. "But do you know what I think?"
"I do not presume to know your thoughts, my priestess," he replied with a chuckle. "But I'm certain you'll enlighten me regardless."
Her gaze drifted back up to the stars, her playful smile turning wistful. He never got to hear what she thought, for in that moment, her eyes glazed over and her body grew still. The thread of her consciousness had been tugged away, drawing her back to her mortal form, to a world far removed from this one.
As he looked upon her lifeless form, Trismegistus could not help but wonder what she would have said, had she the chance. Knowing her, it would have been a clever twist on his own words, perhaps a challenge to the very wisdom he espoused.
He stared at the stone effigy that was her digital avatar, a perfect capture of her final, peaceful moment in this world. Her head was tilted up to the stars, her hair a wild mess, and her tails spread behind her, caught in mid-swish.
Trismegistus approached the stone figure with deliberate steps, his mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions—regret, sadness, and a yearning to protect what remained of her time in this world. He needed to ensure that this final image of her, this representation of her, remained untouched, unblemished by any who might seek to destroy or desecrate.
He placed his front paws on the hand of the statue which rested on the parapet and a warm glow suffused the stone, spreading outwards from the tips of his claws. The glow grew brighter and brighter, a radiant gold light that filled the temple grounds, casting long shadows and illuminating the heavens above.
The magic he invoked would guard against not just physical threats but magical ones as well. They would deter any intruders who might seek to disturb the sanctity of this place, ensuring that no force, not even the divine, could tamper with his priestess' effigy or disrupt the scholarly harmony of the temple.
After all, if she were to one day return and find her temple in ruins, she would be most displeased with him. He might have shown her visions of the temple's destruction as a means to motivate her, he would never allow it to happen. With his enchantments in place, Trismegistus sat back and let out a sigh.
He had ensured she would always have a home here, a sanctuary where she could find peace and rest, and a haven where she could pursue her knowledge and wisdom without interference. For now, he could do no more. The rest would be up to her. Whether she returned or not, the decision was hers to make.