It was lonely in the void.

Oh, Kas̆dael was used to it at this point. The loneliness wrapped around her like a well-worn cardigan. You know, that one sweater you have whose sleeves are ragged from age, with a small hole beneath the arm that’s *mostly* hidden that you just can’t bring yourself to throw out because it so damn comfortable.

Loneliness had been her companion for many an eon. It wasn’t enough to spend one eternity alone. No, she had presided over the collapse of one universe after another, each time forced to play the part of the lonely goddess.

As the final gasp of the Progenitor, the golden age of the universe was already long crumbled into dust by the time she came into being. Sure, Kas̆dael was every bit as strong and powerful as the mightiest of the great gods. And that was only at first - while their power waned, hers would only grow stronger and stronger until she was the final light in a dead universe, the last great spark that would ignite the Progenitor’s flame again. But she wasn’t one of them. Not really.

Other than her sister, Selene, the other gods largely ignored her, unless they had a favor to ask. And Kas̆dael got it - she really did. She was an uncomfortable reminder that even the gods eventually had their end, a reminder best brushed away into a dark closet never to be thought of again until the end was truly nigh. But it still rankled her.

With a sigh, the goddess tore her eyes away from the dark chasm overlooking the city. A faint speckle of lights lit up the eternal night of the void and she contemplated descending into the city, to discover who the first of her inhabitants were. But she suspected it was the Us̆umgallu; she knew the great lizards all too well. They would need time to adjust to the reality of their people’s destruction. She would visit them later.

But that left her with nothing but the endless emptiness to keep her company. Her thoughts turned briefly to her new Hand, Jasper. He didn’t come around as much as he hoped though, given the unfortunate placement of his soul anchor, she understood why. No one enjoyed getting their heart ripped out and if they did enjoy it…well, they had a whole other set of problems. Oh well.

Wrapping the loneliness around her closer, Kas̆dael’s eyes clouded over as she let her mind wander. A thousand prayers reached her, their chorus swelling up around her, but she let her unconscious deal with them. Her attention wasn’t needed; only her power. Twas all anyone ever really needed from her.

Who knows how long she sat there by the void. Time has little meaning for the immortal. But eventually something came to break up the monotony.

Kas̆dael stirred as the winds that swirled in the chasms below here slowly begin to circulate. It wasn’t uncommon for the dire spirits that dwelt in the darkness to stir up trouble, but she sensed no sign of them. This was something different.

The rotation of the winds picked up speed, whirling faster and faster. Dozens of tornados formed, tearing fruitlessly at the frozen cliffs before slowly merging, one into the other. And as the colossal remnant rampaged down the chasm, the very air above it flickered and shuddered, as if the whirlwind sought to tear a hole in reality itself.

Huh. Kas̆dael sat up, suddenly interested. She knew what was happening in an instant. Someone was trying to enter her domain by force. She knew, too, she could put a stop to it. A simple command would be all it would take to quell the unnatural storm, but Kas̆dael had no intention of chasing away a would-be visitor unless there was a damned good reason.

Straightening her lacy, black dress, she hid her face behind the veil. With a flick of her wrist, she consulted her dice, just to make sure she wasn’t making a mistake. They bounced and skittered across the paving stones of the temple’s still-frozen outer gardens, rolling to a stop only a few feet away from the boundless drop-off. She examined them hastily. A friendly foe? For a second, she contemplated closing the still nascent portal, but curiosity won out.

Propping her feet up on the ledge, she awaited her visitor.

The portal above the tornado finally manifested fully. It was a strange looking one, quite unlike the u-shaped arches the gods usually used - a massive triangle filled with a green, eldritch fire that Kas̆dael recognized immediately. An enemy indeed.

He emerged from the fire. Ten feet tall, with skin as pale as snow and eyes as blue as the ocean depths, she watched the Sidhe cautiously as he approached. He seemed…familiar, but she couldn’t quite place him. Perhaps we met on the battlefield, long ago?

He strode across the empty chasm as if a paved road lay before him. An arrogant smile rested on his lips as he bent the very void beneath his will, but she saw no sign of weapons in his hand. Still, she sent her power out into the world around her, letting it seep into every inch of her surroundings as he approached her. Just in case.

The mysterious stranger walked right past her and took a seat on the balustrade opposite Kas̆dael. Mimicking her, he propped his feet up on the ledge, ignoring the spirits that howled at him from below, angered by his disruption of their chasm.

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She waited for him to speak, to introduce himself, but the unknown Sidhe seemed more than content to wait in silence, smirking at her. Fine, she decided. Two can play at that game. So the two sat in silence for quite some time, interrupted only by the howling of the tornado whenever it approached them.

He broke before she did. “So you really are as stubborn as they say,” he observed.

Kas̆dael raised an eyebrow. “Normally guests introduce themselves before they insult their host.”

The Sidhe chuckled, flashing her an easy smile. “No one said stubbornness was a bad thing. As it happens, it's rather a defining trait of mine.”

“You still haven’t introduced yourself,” she pointed out.

“Forgive me,” he apologized, with mock sincerity, “I’m Imhullu. It seems we share a common enemy.” He offered her his hand, but she pointedly ignored it. I’m not shaking the hand of a Sidhe. Now chopping it off - that’s a much better idea.

Dismissing the worst of her impulses, Kas̆dael shifted her back against the balustrade in order to prop herself up into a more upright position. “Oh? I’ve found as a general rule that an enemy of a Sidhe is a friend of mine.”

The blonde giant grimaced. “Come now, how long are the kith of the Progenitor going to hold a grudge?”

She shrugged. “Your kind slaughtered your worlds’ versions of my brothers and sisters. You even came to our world and destroyed our descendants' empire. What time limit would you put on such crimes?”

He met her gaze with a smirk. “How could I forget - your side definitely never killed any of us. It was only our side that committed atrocities, while you were perfect little angels, just protecting your beloved Mwyranni from the big, bad bullies.”

Kas̆dael began to laugh. “Fair enough - I’ll give you this, strange Sidhe, at least you’re entertaining. But I have a feeling you wouldn’t dare say that to my sister. Does her shattered corpse still haunt your world?”

“As a matter of fact,” he countered, “I would indeed say it to your sister. Now your brother,” he grinned, “probably not. As it happens, however, your sister and I had a rather lovely chat a few months ago. Twas about a different topic altogether, but she happened to mention your little problem with a certain, upstart dark god.”

Kas̆dael cocked her head, regarding him with new interest. She was skeptical that Selene would have met with the Sidhe, but if any of her brothers and sisters would, it would be Selene. She was always the most forgiving of them.

But just because he claimed that didn't make it true - the Sidhe were well known for deception. “Who?” she demanded, not willing to give him any information without verifying what he really know.

Imhullu rolled his eyes. “Ever distrustful, your kind. It’s a most undesirable quality.” He hummed beneath his breath, “What name should I use? Mēs̆ūta? Yas̆gah?” He paused for effect, grinning slyly, “Or perhaps I should invoke the name of the greatest follower you ever had, the fallen Empress Matqa?”

Kas̆dael frowned. “So you know her name. But since when are the Sidhe concerned about dark gods? You’re generally rather cozy with them.”

He shrugged, and Imhullu’s casual impertinence fell away, revealing the eyes of an ancient and very tired warrior. “That war was a long time ago, Kas̆dael. I admit the heart of many of my kin still burns with anger, with the desire for vengeance, and once I was the same. Once I wanted nothing more than to burn every home, destroy every planet, explode every star until your kind paid.”

For a moment, she could feel the faint ghost of wrath emanating from him, but it disappeared as he shook his head. “But my wrath has long since withered away - I simply can't bring myself to care any longer. As long as you are willing to live in peace with me, I’m willing to live in peace with you. Your sister and I have already come to an understanding, and I hope we can reach a similar agreement.”

She scrutinized him for a second, unsure if she believed him. That was the trouble with gods - they’d had unlimited time to practice their lying. “Very convincing, but that didn’t really answer my question. Why would you want to get involved?”

“If Yas̆gah succeeds in her plan for true ascension, she will threaten our fragile peace. My kin may not see it, but I believe if she succeeds, she will be just as willing to attack our kind as yours in her quest for ascension. I would see her fail.”

He spoke with a measured sincerity, but Kas̆dael still didn’t entirely buy it. “You know, the name you used threw me. Imḫullu. I couldn’t place it - there certainly were no great leaders during the war that went by that name. Perhaps you wanted me to believe you were a minor Sidhe, but unfortunately for you, we have met on the field of battle, haven't we, Meḫḫawû?” She met his eyes knowingly. “I find it difficult to believe that the same Sidhe who shattered the moon is afraid of an upstart dark god.”

Imḫullu shrugged. “I’m only Imḫullu now. And no, perhaps I’m not afraid for myself,” he admitted. “But I can be afraid for others, can’t I?”

He sighed, “You know, in the world I grew up in, the world before the breaking, we believed in real gods. Omnipotent, omniscient beings whose fury none can escape, whose knowledge none can trick, but you and me? We’re nothing like them. Even with all our power, those we care about can slip through the cracks. We have blind spots."

"As it happens, I believe a certain descendant of mine is endangered by your former servant. She’s a talented mage with a greater resonance with my skills than I have seen in a dozen generations. I’d like to see her survive.”

Kas̆dael finally cracked a smile. “Now that I can believe. Perhaps we do have something talk about it, Meḫḫawû.”

“Imḫullu,” he corrected her. The goddess just shrugged. “The day you can defeat me in battle is the day you can change your name.”

“So you’re agreeing to call me Imḫullu,” he countered. “I seem to recall winning that battle.”

Kas̆dael shot him a pitying look. “Is your memory going so soon? I’m quite certain I was the victor.”

“I literally exploded the moon,” he argued. “Its ruins are still there to this day.”

But Kas̆dael just laughed. “So you beat Selene. But last I checked, I’m not my sister.”

And to that, Imḫullu had no answer.