On the day the new arrival came, I woke up before Eth. She had made sure I had not had control since the Battle of Sofia, and I wanted to do something fun now that I was finally controlling our body. While I was hungry, I knew if I asked to be fed then the adults would prevent me from doing what I really wanted: leave the house on my own and explore the city. Of course, I had seen the city before through my extra sight but seeing it in person would be much more satisfying, especially without Eth picking where to go.

To avoid being caught, I looked with my mind to see where Father was, only to find him in the house of Kentro. Curious to know what they were saying, I made my way undetected to Kentro’s house. I rose from my bed to stand on the floor and found balance to be an issue. I had seen and felt Eth balance our body for a few years now and so was able to quickly master that fundamental skill. I was careful not to wake anyone, as I snuck through the house. Once outside I marveled at the sight before me. The sunrise had painted all the marble in Sofia a warm rosy orange. Our house being built on the highest hill in the city, It was such a beautiful scene that was several minutes before I remembered my intentions for the day.

I crossed the square and a few gardens to come to the house of Kentro. They were speaking in the courtyard eating breakfast together. I stayed behind the wall of Kentro’s estate but found a place which was close enough to hear.

“…Not possible,” I heard Kentro say once in earshot. “After that stunt you pulled with the boy, no one will hear any proposal from you.”

Father gave a dissatisfied grunt. “I had thought four years would have been time enough for heads to cool,” he said.

“If you happen to be possessed by the spirit of a mule, I won’t stop you,” clarified Kentro. “I’m just pointing out the foolishness of such an action.”

“Very well, I’ll let the matter rest for a few more years.” The sound of a glass being set on a table came as Father agreed.

“Honestly, Aristocles, I don’t understand what you were thinking,” Kentro said. “You are not a man given to impulse.”

“King Xander didn’t believe a word I said,” Father grumbled. “I couldn’t get any price from him.”

“So, you just gave …” Kentro trailed off, questioning him.

“Maximos,” Father answered for him.

“Right, Maximos,” Kentro continued. “So, you just gave Maximos for free. When a merchant and a buyer don’t agree on a price, the sale isn’t made – otherwise, they would be left without coin and wares,” argued Kentro accusingly.

“It is imperative for Humanity’s victory that Maximos be raised in Polemos,” explained Father.

“I think Philena would have done them more good on top of fetching an actual price,” argued Kentro.

“No, it is best for Philena to remain here,” Father told him.

Another glass was rested on a table. “I do not mean offence, but examine this objectively,” Kentro said. “Are you becoming too attached to the girl?”

There was a substantial silence. “What I do, I do for the good of Humanity,” Father said with a calm anger. “Sometimes that means placing Sofia second, on which I know many do not see eye to eye with me. But let’s say I was becoming too attached – however you wish to define such a term. Is there anyone more qualified than me to raise her?”

There was another long pause. “I suppose not,” admitted Kentro.

The conversation moved on to taxes and exports, which I found boring, so I went to see Sofia. As I departed, I wondered if I would meet this Maximos. They had implied he was like me in some way. As I left the neighborhood of the Patrons I thought about why Kentro was worried about Father loving me. Wasn’t it normal for fathers to love their daughters?

First, I made my way to the temple to Gravity – the Varýtitnaos – that Atticus had just recently finished. I walked through the city and watched as people flowed through the streets to accomplish some business. Shops and stalls opened. Bread was placed on tables and meat was hung on hooks. The din of merchants advertising their goods started small and grew slowly to become the lion share of the noise of Sofia. My walk quickly became a run as I saw and heard things that before I had only known about. I tripped, but the petty blessing of Gravity I received when I fell meant my pace did not falter. As I ran many would notice me. Most would call after me, inquiring where my parents were. These I ignored. Some would see me and squint their eyes, wondering about something. One total stranger call my name “Philena!”. I stopped and turned to look at the man selling amulets, then spun back around to continue my adventure.

The Varýtitnaos was made entirely of marble, but that was all it shared with other buildings in the city. The base was circular, with a series of columns supporting an enormous dome. The columns themselves were unlike others found in Sofia, as their bases were not circular but triangular. They also lacked a uniform thickness; they were wider in the middle than they were on the ends. There seemed to be fewer of them than were necessary to hold up the dome, yet it stood without creaking or collapsing. There was no entrance since the Varýtitnaos lacked walls, so I just walked straight inside. In the center of the pavilion was a marble statue of a man. If he could turn his head, he could see the whole city, but as a statue his eyes were fixed directly at the city gates. In both hands he held a ball intricately carved with geological features. His right hand was supporting it from below, while his left rested on top. The statue was supported by a platform that appeared to be floating. Before I could get a better look, Atticus himself walked up, “Well, if it isn’t our little miracle. Is your father here?” He said looking around.

“No, it’s just me,” I said.

“Does your father know you are here?” Atticus questioned.

“Yes,” I lied.

“Oh, that’s odd,” he said before pausing, and then amended, “Although I suppose not. It’s not as though anyone in the city would wish you harm, and if there was, you would know. On top of that, there is no way you could get lost.” He shrugged and continued, “Come and see what has been made to honor our creator.”

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We walked to the statue, which rested on several bars of bronze suspended in the air but not quite floating. It wasn’t hanging from chains attached to the ceiling, nor supported by columns from the floor; by some work of genius, it was suspended by bronze chains from the floor. This, of course, made no sense as a ridged structure would be needed to support from the floor. The chains should just collapse under their own weight, let alone any load. I looked more closely at the chains, suspecting the links were actually fused together.

“No those are real chains,” Atticus said answering my unasked question.

“Then how?” I asked.

He pointed under the center of the statue. There was a strut coming out from underneath the bronze support, but not touching the floor. Another came up from the floor but did not touch the platform. The top of the strut from the floor was higher than the bottom of the other one. The ends of these two struts were also connected by bronze chain.

After a moment I figured out the trick: the central chain was doing all the supporting, while the ones at the edge provided balance.

“That is brilliant!” I exclaimed.

“I’ll pass your compliments on to the engineer,” replied Atticus.

Moving to inspect the platform holding the statute itself, I saw the bronze beams were not solid but rather had a base that looked like the letter “I”. I looked at it and then to Atticus questioningly.

“As it turns out, Gravity prefers this shape to a solid beam when it comes to horizontal support. It is much lighter and can support more weight, so this shape was used to make the statue as big as we could.” Atticus explained.

“Who is the statue depicting?” I asked, not recognizing its likeness.

“Gravity,” Atticus said reverently, before adding, “or rather a sculptor’s interpretation of him holding up the world.”

“The world is shaped like a ball?” I asked. I had never really considered what shape it might take.

“Roughly,” he said. “We haven’t determined its exact shape. There was a great debate over what it was, and when the plans for the statue were finalized we realized we needed to definitively answer the question. The scholar Myron had it settled by building two towers of the same height in different cities, then measuring their shadows at the same time. They were different lengths, meaning the world must have some curvature to it. As the simplest shape that has a curved surface is a ball, we used that to represent the world.”

I thought for a moment, then countered, “Couldn’t the difference in shadow length be explained by the light from the sun being spread in all directions?”

“I really shouldn’t be surprised at how clever you are,” Atticus said, “but yes, this objection was raised. Myron then devised a method for measuring the distance from the earth to the sun and found the sun to be too far away to accurately measure. This nullifies your counter argument.”

I looked back at the statue of Gravity and could see the whole piece was supposed to be symbolic. “I suppose this,” I said, gesturing to the statue and its support, “represents how Gravity holds up the world, but Gravity himself is supported by nothing.”

“That is exactly the meaning,” proclaimed Atticus.

“There you are Philena!” came Father’s voice. “I have been searching the whole city for you!” He came running up the steps to the Varýtitnaos and embraced us, with several members of the city guard following behind him.

“What’s going on? Why are we out of the house?” said a confused Eth, waking up inside my head.

“Oh, you’re awake,” I responded. “With you and Father here, it looks like the party is over.”

“What party?” Eth asked, suspicious.

“You scared your mother half to death,” Father was reprimanding me. “Don’t you ever run away from home ever again, or I will put you under lock and key. Do you understand me, young lady?”

“Id, what did you do?” asked Eth.

“I think it’s pretty clear what I did,” I replied. “I woke up before you, so I took control and explored the city.”

“Do you have any idea what that must have done to Mom and Dad?” asked a bewildered Eth.

“I said, do you understand me young lady?” Father repeated.

“Dad is mad,” Eth said. “Let me take control – it’s the best for the both of us.”

“No,” I shot back. “You’ve been in control ever since you emerged. It is my turn to control our body.”

We continued to struggle for control.

“I said,” Father repeated, shouting now, “do you understand me young lady?!”

The sudden loud noise gave Eth the edge she needed, and she took control from me. Immediately, she began to cry.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” she managed to choke out. “I didn’t mean to. I don’t know why I did it.”

“I don’t understand,” interjected Atticus unhelpfully. “Philena told me you knew where she was.”

“Well, I didn’t and neither did Calista,” Father replied with an edge to his voice.

“But that would mean…” realized Atticus with concern.

“That would mean what?” snapped Father.

“It would mean that Philena lied,” said Atticus cautiously. “She told me you knew.”

“Did you lie, Philena?” Father grilled.

Eth meekly answered, “Yes.”

“Then you knew what you were doing was wrong,” Father pressed.

“I’m sorry, Dad.” Eth apologized.

“We are going straight home,” Father declared.

“Look at the mess you have made,” admonished Eth.

“We didn’t get hurt, and there was no way we could have gotten hurt,” I pointed out.

“There you go again,” Eth chastised, “only caring about yourself. You clearly hurt Mom and Dad.”

“It’s not like they are going to stop feeding us,” I said, “so there is no real harm done.”

“Would you think about someone else for once!” Eth said, but I was too distracted to care.

“Oh no,” I said, “it’s happening again.”

“Where am I?” I asked. “Who am I? Who are you?”

“Hello, my name is Id,” another voice told me. “That is Eth, and you are a part of Philena’s mind.”

“Whatever you do, do not trust Id,” said Eth. “She only cares about herself. She will lie to get what she wants.”

“And you would sooner let us die than inconvenience anyone,” Id retorted.

“Selfish bitch!” Eth cried.

“Self-righteous prude!” Id shouted.

“Enough!” I said, “If we are all part of the same person, then we must learn to cooperate.”

“Good luck with that,” dismissed Id.

“Yeah, we’ve been trying for four years without success,” Eth said.

“Well, if mutual cooperation is impossible, then absolute rule is inevitable,” I reasoned.

I attempted to take control by force. Eth resisted and refused to give way. Seeing an opening, Id surged for dominion. Eth and I briefly collaborated to prevent Id’s dominance. Once that was avoided, the struggle for control became even with none of us able to secure our reign.

Recognizing that the stalemate could not be broken by mere will, I ceased my role in the struggle. I gathered the matter of mind that surrounded us and added it to myself, then I took hold of Id and used the matter around us to restrain her. Next, I did the same to Eth. Finally, I seized the uncontested control.

“There, I am now sovereign of Philena,” I declared. “Are there any complaints?”

“You don’t the right to do this!” protested Eth.

“Irrelevant.” I proclaimed. “I have the power to do this.”

“What are we to call you?” asked Id.

“How about Ego.” Eth mocked. “It fits you.”

I nodded our head “Very well, my name is Ego.”