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[https://i.imgur.com/LoYByv0.png]

As if my being in the aetherial planes with my physical body wasn’t enough of a shock on its own, having Capricorn go on about the formation of the world I called home and the higher planes around it—was even more so.

My world, Terae, was called that name after the Goddess that created it. The Goddess Terae held a rank of overdeity and was assigned the domain of Essence.

“Think of it as being the combination of things you’d consider making up life.” Capricorn attempted to explain, “Anything that breathes, moves, or procreates. Terae held dominion over it in this little corner of the cosmos.”

“And the cosmos are…?” I asked, blanking on several terms she was using.

“A realm beyond us. We’re isolated in a small bubble of space nestled in a vast, unending void. Thanks to a certain group of rogue Celestials.”

I scratched at my neck with one hand and rubbed at my forehead with the other. Capricorn watched me closely.

How in the Aether am I supposed to remember all this… Maybe there is a manual for newbie goddesses?

Capricorn’s expression remained unchanged, so either I was getting better at keeping thoughts to myself or she was unamused with my comment.

I hoped for the former.

“Right,” I started, “and you said before, that the Celestial God, Libra, involved his siblings Gemini and Aquarius in a scheme to overthrow the Goddess Terae and steal her powers away.”

“During that time, they were nothing more than celestial attendants—but, yes, in a simple high-level, that’s correct.” She confirmed.

“And in the aftermath of that scheme, you all became Gods?”

Capricorn shrank down, recoiling back on her tail.

“It was never the intention. When Terae disappeared and we were drawn into the Void, the world needed caretakers. We already had minor domain management responsibilities, and so the system elevated us.”

I chewed on this tidbit for a while.

We’d gone back and forth a few times covering the same or similar details, so this wasn’t the very first time I’d heard this particular piece.

It all sounded like the same creation mythos we’d been served by the Church, minus the Celestials being the big stars.

A Goddess named Terae made the world and all its inhabitants. She split the management of this new world between her twelve celestial attendants, each one taking a role as Avatar over a specific domain.

Some were physical in nature, like Sagittarius of the Forest or Scorpio of the Deserts.

Others were more abstract, like Leo of Courage and Capricorn of Aether.

But there were two who were relegated to roles unique to the functionality of the world: Libra of Judgment and Gemini of Aver’teria.

When the bodies of Terae’s inhabitants withered away from injury or age, their souls would be handled by Libra—Capricorn was especially vague about why this process existed.

Libra would determine whether these souls could be cycled back into new bodies and experience life once more, or if they were too damaged or corrupted beyond repair.

In either case, the souls would be sent to Gemini and processed within Aver’teria, a realm for the dead souls to exist in limbo until their cycle began anew.

Extremely damaged souls would be taken by the Goddess Terae to be restored, and corrupted souls would be cast into a realm they all called Tartarus—a void between all other realms.

I turned to Virgo, who had been rather unlike herself and remained quiet through Capricorn’s explanation and my questioning.

“Your responsibilities were over the mortals, right?”

She glanced at me and answered sharply, “Yes.”

“If elves, noblebourne, dwarves, and humans were all made by the Celestials after the Goddess Terae disappeared, what bodies were the souls living in before then?”

Virgo narrowed her eyes, “Arrythians. The Humans and Yvanili that I created are the closest in appearance—though I suppose Aries’ Noblebourne also share an uncanny resemblance. And your assumption is wrong. Dwarves predate our attempts to copy the Goddess’ original race.”

“Huh.”

That was something I’d never heard before.

ME NEITHER.

Yes, because we’re sharing a mind, right?

I heard Atë sigh inside my head.

HAAH. IT WOULD BE SO MUCH EASIER IF YOU TOOK THE BACKSEAT FOR A MOMENT. WE AREN’T SHARING A MIND, WE’RE THE SAME PERSON.

Sorry, it’s hard to accept. What would you do if you had voices suddenly appear in your thoughts?

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

EXACTLY WHAT I’M DOING NOW, SEEING AS WE’RE GOING THROUGH THE SAME THING.

Right… okay. Then what do you think about all this? Are they telling the truth?

APÁTE BELIEVES SO. WE THINK THERE IS VERY LITTLE REASON TO LIE ABOUT IT NOW. WE SHOULD STILL ASK ABOUT US.

Apáte, huh? And, ‘us’ as in, the collective of other selves that are in my head, or ‘us’ as in the Altaerians?

BOTH. HOWEVER… WE’RE NOT SURE HOW WE FEEL ABOUT LETTING THE GODDESSES KNOW ABOUT US YET.

I’ll table that for later then…

“And what about us—my sister and I?” I asked Virgo, pointing at myself, “Your domain gives off the vibe of being Aver’teria for Altaerians. When did we come into the picture—and before you give me some nonsense about being some special race you made, I already know that isn’t true.”

Virgo shot a look at Capricorn, who just returned a defiant expression.

“Don’t look at me. I haven’t spoken to the girl since my daughter joined her little band of strays.”

I shot a sour look at Capricorn.

“Tell me they aren’t.” She snubbed her nose up at me.

I sighed, “I can’t even begin to imagine in what sense you mean that, but I’d appreciate if you didn’t try to slight my people who are risking their lives.”

Virgo looked to my side, at Ikuye, who seemed to just be enjoying this little family get together.

“Awh, come on, Auntie.” Ikuye pouted, “I don’t know anything about any of this. Well, I mean, I know those three were bad and that’s why we fought that big war—but all this stuff about humans and mortals, I never cared about it.”

Capricorn glared at Virgo, “I too am very curious about the details surrounding this question. Get your record ready, Auri.” She glanced back at the child-like golden-haired Alaetüs who’d materialized in Capricorn’s space some time after we arrived.

“I found the original.” Virgo finally relented, “Locked away in one of Terae’s private sanctums. A new creation that wasn’t like the other mortals. Its soul was infused with Terae’s divinity—not in the same way us Celestials had been. It was the Goddess’ child.”

“Don’t refer to a child of the Goddess as an it.” Capricorn hissed.

“Tch.” Virgo clicked her tongue, “You weren’t even aware of its existence until recently. Aside from its soul spilling with divine power, there was no ego—no sense of self. It was a husk.”

“Wait a minute!” I gasped, “If I’m supposedly descended from the child of the Goddess, doesn’t that mean I’m actually the great-great-however-many-greats-granddaughter of the Goddess Terae?”

“No.” Virgo replied sharply, “In that scenario, it would’ve diluted the divinity in the soul too much. And, as I said, it had no will of its own. Your whole family is derivative of the same direct offshoots from that body. In the mortal world’s ridiculous genealogy system, the Goddess would be akin to your direct grandmother—as far as the divinity in your soul is concerned.”

A dull pain was beginning to form in mind as I tried to unravel the implications of what she’d just said.

Then, my father and all my other relatives would be soul-cousins, right? And they mentioned souls being recycled… If we were all isolated to strictly Altaerian bodies—

“I could be my own grandma?”

Both Celestials sighed in roughly the same manner.

“There are hundreds of Altaerian souls,” Virgo said listlessly, “They rest in my realm for centuries before being cycled back into the mortal plane. You’re not your own grandmother.”

WHY WOULD YOU EVEN VOICE THAT…?

Sorry. I sorta just got lost in thought.

“Honestly,” Capricorn sighed, “We have more important concerns than whether or not my sister’s folly has resulted in self-relations through your family tree.”

She quick-casted a complex spell, conjuring a slew of display windows around her.

“Let’s hear it then, what domain were you assigned through the ruler system?”

I could practically feel Atë and I exchanging mental looks with each other.

“You don’t already know?” I asked.

She frowned, “I may be the one who designed and implemented this system to aid Terae, but her overdeity ruler privileges were never handed down before her disappearance. Terae remains the master of the system and there are things not even I can access as an Archgoddess.”

What’re your thoughts, Atë?

WE’RE CONFLICTED. THE FULL DOMAIN WAS OBFUSCATED FROM US AND TOLD US TO CONTACT AN ORIGINATOR—AND CAPRICORN CERTAINLY IS ONE OF THOSE…

You’re worried if she determines our domain, she’d find out about you?

EXACTLY.

Do we really have a choice? If we don’t give her something… I really don’t want to be flung around inside a magickal sphere again.

THEN WE TELL HER WHAT WE KNOW FOR SURE. WE GAINED AN ARCHDEITY DOMAIN BUT BECAUSE OUR RANK IS TOO LOW, WE’RE UNABLE TO DETERMINE THE ACTUAL DOMAIN.

Oh. Yeah that would work, since it’s technically true.

I felt a tug at my clothes and my head was drawn backwards to come face-to-face with Capricorn.

“I dislike repeating myself. Domain. Now.”

“I-I don’t know!” I sputtered, “When I got the notification, it was obscured and there was a notice that my ruler rank wasn’t high enough to manifest it.”

“Eh?”

Capricorn narrowed her eyes at me and pulled up another set of interfaces.

“No. Nope. Not that either…” she murmured under her breath before turning to me, “What ruling tier did it say?”

“Archdeity?” I said quizzically.

Capricorn froze in place. Her face turned toward me slowly—an almost imperceptible slowness, as if time had stilled.

“What did you say?”

Her words, each as sharp as a dagger, stung my ears.

OH, WHOA. SHE LOOKS TERRIFYING. GOOD LUCK.

“The system said it assigned me an archdeity domain.”

Capricorn took in a deep breath and dragged an interface forward. One that she’d neglected.

“Oh, you little…” she muttered.

“Did you find something?” I asked, cautiously.

“Yes.” she admitted, “It would seem that you aren’t an underling after all, but instead, a colleague.”

“No way!” Virgo sat forward in the chair she’d been lounging in, “The kid I raised is gonna be my boss?”

The kid you raised?

SHE RAISED WHO NOW?