Enki stared deeply at the sapling, or rather he stared deeply at his daughter. The body that stood at the other end of the raft was most assuredly that of a young and still budding tree, but to him that young tree was nothing if not his daughter. For the past seven years, he had raised and guided her. Every day nurturing and appeasing her endless curiosity and shaping her personality into a semblance of his own. He had considered her mind to be like a reflection of his own. A distorted reflection, but a reflection, nonetheless. Her wisdom, insights, analysis, reasoning, and even temperaments had all begun to emulate his own over the past seven years. But now, something remarkable had happened, she had shown him something he had not expected. For seven years he had stared into clear water. For seven years, he had seen its translucent depths and its mirrored surface. However, only today had he seen the proud carp that lurked within. The carp with such an unyielding and stubborn determination. The carp with such a grand aspiration. What would she become if she finally leaped past the surface? Not even Enki dared to speculate. Had he failed to notice her uniqueness? Impossible. It was apparent from the day they met. Had he failed to notice her potential? Surely not. Had he not mentored her for seven years? If her potential was limited, he would have never wasted so much time and energy. So, why was he hesitating to tell her the truth now? A thought struck him. It was something incredibly obvious, but slightly disconcerting for him. He wasn’t protecting her; he was protecting himself.

To Enki, the past seven years had gone by in a flash. They were barely a ripple in the expanse of his life. It felt as if he had just plucked that vibrant green sapling from the turbulent river. To him, time felt short, but it was in fact quite long. However, his daughter was still young, she was just beginning to see the path ahead. For her, the past seven years had been an extensive period of growth and development. To her, time felt long, but it was in fact quite short. How she answered that question was proof of their time together's impact on her. It was proof of her growth and maturation into someone worthy and ready for the truths of the world. The response was shrewd, unique, and bold. It was an exceptional answer. It lacked nothing, not even insult; truly worthy of praise. So, while Enki had his misgivings, he no longer had any reservations. This daughter of his was ready to make her own way. She was ready to come out from under his shadow and experience the brilliant light of day for herself.

Am I escaping time’s illusion, or have I already succumbed to it? My word, how she's grown. Was it not only yesterday? Was she not a stranger only moments ago? Yet here I sit, anxious over her future. How many years has it been since I assumed the role of Father? Before I have even understood it, I have become it. How many years have I been at sea? Yet only now have I seen past the water’s surface? Only now have I seen myself. Has it been seven years or seven days? Has it been several millennia or several seconds? I fear I’ve lost track. Perhaps time has truly caught up to me.

With swelling pride and a slight unwillingness, Enki responded to her, “It appears my daughter has grown quite capable as well. Very well. Allow this old man to guide you one last time. I am known to some as a god. However, I find such a title rather demeaning. I am far above a mere god; comparing me to some wet behind the ears welp that has barely etched their divine rune is insulting. I am what would better be described as a sage. This means I am a god that has chosen the path of knowledge and succeeded in controlling at least two of the profound elements of an existential law. However, I have yet to understand how to combine them. On this plane, I am considered quite powerful, among the most powerful actually, but if I ascend to the sky I will be little more than an ant. As for what a celestial is… to put it simply, it is the pre-requisite to survive up there," Enki pointed towards the heavens. "Celestials can control and combine at least two profound elements of an existential law. Such a being would be nearly all-powerful down here, but up there they are barely passing."

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"So, if you're that powerful, then how powerful was Abzu, the primeval sea," the sapling inquired.

"Abzu was a primordial. This means he succeeded in controlling an existential law. To accomplish such a feat, he would have had to gain complete control over every profound element of an existential law, combine them all into one concept, and then gain complete mastery of that concept. Imagine having dominion over life itself. Pretty incomprehensible isn't it? Primordials have that sort of power. Primordials can create lesser planes with a drop of blood and annihilate them with a wave of their hand," Enki replied.

"How in the gods... how did you manage to kill such a being," the sapling blurted out.

Enki laughed so hard that tears came to his eyes. "It appears I'm still capable of mystifying you after all," he wheezed. "Although such a feat may seem impressive, I assure you it was anything but. Abzu may have been mighty at one time, but he was far from his peak when I took his life. He was one of the fallen. This means that he ignored Chaos’ calls and remained rooted to a lower plane. Primordials may be monstrous existences, but they are not infallible. Chaos, however, is mother to all, and nothing is her better. When a being is too powerful for a plane to contain its might, she will beckon them to come closer to her. On this plane, you will hear her song as a celestial, and any who ignores her will weaken and wane until they are a husk of their former self. Abzu ascended to the heavens and became extremely powerful, but he fled back to Gaia and ignored Chaos' song. As a result, he became just such a husk. He became a tired and irritable shell. A shadow of what he once was. That was the cause of his miserable end. He placed the knife at his throat; I only pushed it forward. But even still, I came dangerously close to losing my life," Enki shook his head, ashamed of his own weakness. But when he turned his head towards the river his eyes caught the sight of waves lapping at the side of his raft. With a helpless sigh, he dipped his oar back into the river and began to paddle. And without looking up from his tasks he spoke again, "Daughter, one day you will hear a beautiful song and be forced to make a choice. At that time I hope you will remember my next words." Enki paused as he struggled with a rather strong current. "In life, you must always move forward. You may guide yourself in any direction, but it must always move you forward," he said with a strained voice.