“Explain yourself,” bellowed Caeli as she stormed into the room. Sala looked up from her desk, raising an eyebrow, but she put down her papers, regardless.
“Please be specific, Caeli,” she sighed, rubbing her temple tiredly. The goddess stared at the storm cloud that had made itself comfortable in the center of her study.
“He undermined my authority by sending Mere in search of Noctifer. He may be the Lord of the Heavens, but he is very well not in any state to do so.”
“He isn’t in any state to do anything. I’m the one who authorized Mere’s involvement in this mess.”
“On what grounds, Sala?”
“Think logically, Caeli,” growled Sala. “If we can give Solaris the illusion of control, we can handle the affairs of heaven while he works on his own grounds.”
“A shadow of the throne,” realized Caeli, gulping down the fear of a coup.
“A proxy-ruler, I prefer,” declared Sala. Slumping, Caeli shuffled to the window that looked out over Sala’s courtyard.
“Describe ‘putrefactio’,” Sala prompted suddenly, as she continued with her work. Caeli looked over her shoulder at Sala curiously, but turned back to the garden.
“A base material is fermented acuriously,nd its structure broken down for the extraction of a spirit and salt.”
“Correct,” Sala said, stamping a piece of paper with her seal. “It is one of the alchemical procedures of the universe at large. We, the gods, are no more different from the universe than a grain of sand in the desert. Solaris is in his own state of ‘putrefactio’. He is being broken down to reveal the base materials.”
“So is the entirety of heaven,” Caeli interjected, looking back out over the garden.
“Yes, heaven is also subject to these cycles of change and creation. It appears that Solaris’ state of madness is bringing heaven into both a spiritual and political transformation.”
“And the world below,” added Caeli.
“Yes,” huffed Sala, growing agitated with Caeli’s constant comments. She was right, of course, but the repeating reminders of the world breaking down around her were becoming frustrating. It was contrary to her nature. She created, and having to sit back and let the Cycle of Creation and Destruction occur before her, at the expense of doing nothing, was akin to a mother watching her child fall to a sickness.
“He can’t even take care of himself,” Caeli mused.
“And neither can you without a drink, so I’d recommend you shut up for now.”
“Angry much?” Chuckled Caeli, walking to Sala’s side and looking at the papers on her desk.
“All is One and nothing is separate,” Sala said, turning the paper over in her hands.
“Circular movements, life into death, and death into life.”
“And one into all and all into one,” added Sala, holding up a paper to Caeli’s face.
“This is a letter to Mere to take at least one of your emissaries on his train. You will use this, and stay out of trouble.”
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“Noxifer,” Ava called into the empty temple. It had gradually returned to some of its former glory. Lanterns were lit, and they revealed the intricate murals. He had restored the central fountain and had brought lotus pods to rest in it for the day. They quite enjoyed watching them bloom, but then the realization of Nox’s absence set in.
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It was a frustration like no other when the god would disappear at a vital crossroads. She had received word of Mere’s court appearing in random places, mostly temples and cremation grounds. There was, however, another issue. The sun had become redder, and the omen ended up stirring zealotry in Solaris’ temples. The one under the king and crown was the epicenter, and now the remnants of Nox’s sect are under persecution. She really wished this state of Putrefactio would finish soon.
“Nox, I swear to all of Heaven and Earth,” she threatened loudly, and the temple listened without responding.
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Noxifer couldn’t get over the scream. It sounded too close to him, and it resounded within him. After taking leave from Ava, having lost three games, he resigned to the garden. He had reshaped the temple. His hands had become calloused in his constant movement, but that did not shake the scream that constantly echoed in the back of his thoughts. It was like a roar of the universe, one that threatened to shake the three worlds. He wished he knew what was going on, but it all seemed like some mystery that even he could not pierce.
It only worsened when he heard another scream from one of his devotees. In his meditation, near the white flowers, he suddenly heard the splitting cry of a child, and his mind filled with visions of war and blood, and his statue crashed. He had left at that point to go to a village where he knew the crying had come.
He donned a simple form, a water-bearing woman coming from the river. He did not like to admit it to most, but he enjoyed how others became entranced when he took the form of a woman. That was one of his names:
“She who glows like the full moon”
So, there he came with his jug underarm and the dress wrapped around his form. His breath hitched when he saw the state of the town ransacked and on its last beams. Solaris’ banners decorated the walls and, in the center of the town, was a bonfire. He wrapped the cloth around his midnight hair, covering the gentle face he had assumed and the burning rage that clouded his eyes. He shuffled to the side of a man who was busy cutting fruit on the remnants of a porch.
“Excuse me, sir, may I ask what happened?” Nox said, his voice coming out more sultry than he had desired. The man looked up at the woman, Nox, garbed in red cloth with copper skin and a wideness to her form that stunned him for a minute. He quickly gathered himself, standing up fully and smiling bashfully.
“Well,” he stammered, “priests of Sol came here yesterday afternoon in pursuit of heretics.”
“Heretics?” Nox pushed, his mood darkening.
“Followers of Bebeloi. Apparently we had a family of them. The priests took them, burned their statues and books over there.” he pointed to the bonfire. Nox had heard enough, and his grip on the water jug tightened.
“Where did they take them?”
“I don’t know, but if I had to guess from the rumors, then they’d be taking them to the temples, like they did the others.”
“Thank you, sir,” Noxifer said bitterly. He turned on his heel to leave, but stopped. He sighed and held out the jug to the man.
“For your service,” he said kindly, trying to rectify the crudeness of his voice. The man looked oddly at the water jug and held it.
“Thank you?” He said, unsure of himself, but the jug weighed down on his hand. He looked in, and from the water arose pieces of gold that soon overflowed. Noxifer smiled weakly and left.
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Mere was about to lose it. Not only had Caeli intruded on his affair. Now there was no one handling the affairs of the firmament, and he was not one to trust attendants needlessly. The silver-lining was that they had a lead. Deities were spotted around an old temple in the mountains. The energy is very noticeable. Gods could never hide from other gods, especially primal ones.
He had to cover his chest. The cold air did little to help him and his fiery nature. He didn’t mind, there was a certain joy in wearing the clothes that his wife had made for him. It was like a reminder of her wherever he went. He also enjoyed seeing the jealousy of others when he wore something handmade. The temple came into view. Mere had realized that the rumors were true.
The air was thick with energy, but it was foreign. Caeli felt the same thing as she closed in on the doors. It wasn’t the cooling energy of Noctifer, but something more profound, even profane. She placed her hands against the doors of the temple and pushed them open, the lanterns in the temple flickering with the sudden gust. In the center of the hall, lurking around a fountain, was the deity in question.
Ava, receiving deific guests, received them with a form that was ‘worthy’. This time, however, they wanted to prove a point. They stood before the gods, their signature darkness marked with a myriad of blinking eyes. Their arms spread from their back, six in total. Two were folded in each other while the other four held the moon, a scimitar, a rosary, and a grail filled with some darkened liquid with a potent smell. Caeli shivered when the smell reached her nose—the acidity was enough to cause a headache. Around the deity, rays of blue light warped the shadows, even the lanterns, in the room.
“Welcome to the temple of Noctifer,” greeted Ava curtly, their form only strengthening as the lights in the room faded. Caeli stared defiantly, still holding her nose.
“Where is he?” she demanded, heaving as Ava sloshed the liquid in their cup, the smell growing potent.
“He is where he decides to be,” Ava said coolly. “That is to say that I don’t know where he is. Still, how lovely that you should come when he goes.”
“He is in trouble, and so are his devotees,” slurred Caeli. Mere pushed past, but stopped halfway. His light, his fire, had begun to tremble in the presence of the deity of all ends. Ava only stared as Mere stepped back out of the temple, holding onto Caeli as she swayed.
“I understand his devotees are in trouble, which is why you are wasting your time by coming here.”
“Please, Master, where is he?”
“He will go where his devotees call. Even a dimwit would understand how he works.”
“Ataea-Minor,” hissed Mere as he turned. There was the barking of orders, and then Mere shouted for Caeli. She stared at the deity before her. Her face was flushed, and she felt no energy in her bones.
“What is happening, Ava?”
“The wheel turns, and life continues,” Ava said with a tone of finality before turning on their heel and leaving deeper into the temple. Caeli reached out to demand an explanation, but fell forward. The world around her spun, and she felt her body giving way to something else. The skin of her fingers rotted away. She felt the same on her face. It was a peaceful feeling, like rain during a long summer.
Someone’s voice echoed in the distance. When she looked again, she was facing the open sky. Mere let go of her leg, rushing to her side and trying to check her pulse and vitals, but the skin of the goddess gave way under his pressures. He choked back a heave that threatened to empty him of all that he had that day. Caeli was still facing the sky above her. The red sun hid behind the clouds that threatened a snowstorm. Despite the yelling from Mere and the fretting of her attendants, she couldn’t bring herself to look away from the sight. That’s when it clicked, in that state before a ‘death’.
“Putrefactio,” she giggled to herself. With a fading smile, she exhaled and closed her eyes.