The assault on the fae realm was, by all intents and purposes, going well. The canal skeletons of New Capenna, with their metal-plated bones and their pacification magic, handled most of the combative resistance to the strike. Meanwhile, the strike team proper - consisting of no less than three vampires, a vampire planeswalker, four planeswalkers, and two kami - was moving in with the skeletonys providing cover as they made their way towards the castle on the hill.
"Time for the divide-and-conquer route," Koda muttered. His hands were settled on the hilts of two of his daggers, his stamina-draining one and the one he received from a trickery god. He reminded himself of their plan. Koda, Haruko, Theodors, and Kutsurengo would go after Arkuan the bounty hunter. Lily and Vasro would go after Flair the scientist. And Arturo, Lazaro, Swift, and Ferlan would go after the Honorable Judge herself. Koda took a deep breath. "Ferlan, stick close to Lazaro."
"So you've already said, boss," Ferlan reminded him, her own daggers at the ready.
Lily snapped her fingers, using a little magic as she did so. "I'm ready. Vasro, the moment we get an opening, you and I are splitting off."
And sure enough, when they made it up the hill and towards the castle, they were ready to break and go after their enemies.
I squished my hands in the mud one last time, flattening it out. Sweat – I did not know before now that I could sweat – practically poured down my body, soaking my robes. I was glad that I had dismissed my armor before I started working. Though that did nothing for my wings, which were filthy with mud and dirt and swamp water.
Swamp water.
By my fellow goddesses and my mother’s wilds, I didn’t know for sure how long it had been. A few months? A year? It was hard to say. I had been busy doing the work, not marking the days.
What was easier to say was that it was finally done. After a lot of field research and flights to different planes, after asking questions of the Dea Pronoia and other goddesses who remembered swamplands, after finding plants stashed away and hidden, after literally changing the course of a river to have a proper offshoot...
Swampland now returned to Thyrsus.
Thank you, Grixis and Alara, I thought as I looked over my work. Thank you, Thunder Junction. Thank you, Innistrad. Thank you, Arcavios. Thank you, Capenna. Thank you, Tarkir. Those six planes and the information from them had been the most helpful in this endeavor. Everyone who cared for those planes, mortal or undead or immortal or something else, had helped in some way with restoring my home.
Kholkis rolled around in the mud that I had just tamped down. I laughed and reached down to pet the hatchling behind the horns. “I know, isn’t it so exciting?” I asked, a little rhetorically. “We have a swamp again! Let’s go get Drakôn and make sure this helps her.” Kholkis let out a low trill and curled up around my arm, snuggling against the crook of my shoulder. Already she was growing, her wings becoming more powerful and her coils becoming longer, in ways she hadn’t on other planes or in the non-swampy parts of Thyrsus. That meant that at least part of my theory worked.
I spread my four wings, beat the mud and dirt out of them, and took off into the sky and towards Drakôn’s hiding place.
The cave that the Progenitor Dragon was still inside of had not changed much. Its blood still coated the cavern floor. Its coils still wrapped around every twist and turn. Its breathing was still labored.
“Come on, Drakôn,” I coaxed as I carefully approached its greatly-horned head. Its deep violet eyes locked onto me as I stepped closer. “I won’t lie to you, it’s going to hurt, but we need to move you. There’s a swamp now. You can heal. You just have to let me help you out of this cave.”
My second-eldest sister, who predated every goddess but our creator, studied me warily. I waited, my hands extended, my paws still against the blood-tacky stone, my wings carefully folded to minimize my possibility of seeming like a threat to a being who predated me many millennia over. Kholkis remained wrapped around both of my shoulders, studying her source in turn.
Drakôn let out a noise that may have been a sigh were it not for how pained and raspy it was. It slowly uncoiled its body with a hiss that even I recognized as pain, allowing me to support its head as it unthreaded itself from the cavern that had been its protection since the Phyrexian Invasion.
“I know,” I murmured as I pet one of its great horns. “I know. It’s not going to get better until we do something about it. You’ll heal. I know you will.”
The next steps – Drakôn dragging itself along the stone and then the grass by its trembling legs – were difficult. So was every step afterwards. But I stayed by my sister’s side, supporting it when it stumbled and keeping its head up.
The swamp I had restored was not far from its cave, but the trip was still made longer by its injuries. It took an hour to get there – an hour of stumbling, an hour of hissing, an hour of blood seeping into the ground, an hour of pain and misery on the behalf of the Progenitor Dragon.
But the moment Drakôn stepped foot into the restored swamp, it was all worth it.
I watched, mesmerized, as the horrible ripped gash in its throat began to close, folding in on itself and sealing back under muscle and tissue and skin and scale. The trembling of its limbs subsided. Its wings spread to their full strength. It raised its head without my help and let out a roar that shook the very earth.
I grinned and pumped my fist in the air. My wings flared out as I did so. “Yes!” I laughed. “Yes! We did it, Kholkis!”
Kholkis let out a delighted chirp and slid down from my shoulders. I watched in real time as she also grew. Her teeth finally came in, her dark grey python-patterned body continued to lengthen, her grey wings with white patches – my own healing work – grew in size and strength, and her bright yellow eyes remained clear and focused.
It worked. It worked.
Drakôn leaned down and pressed its forehead to mine. I reached up with my left hand to cradle its jaw. “You’re welcome, adelfí,” I murmured. “I’m glad I could help you.”
That was when I felt something else. A summons from our mother. That was...odd. Usually she waited until the ten-year meetings to speak to most of us. Especially me.
I brushed that off and looked at Kholkis. “I’ll be back,” I promised. “You keep...growing, I guess.” Kholkis chirped and began to roll around in the swamp water.
I smiled and focused on the divine realms. With a flash of light from my horns and feathers, I stepped sideways and up into my creator’s domain.
My mother’s divine realm was a classic wooden temple. The Dea Xenia did not need the shows of power that the other goddesses made of their realms, because the fact that Thyrsus existed at all was evidence of her strength. The long table for visitors remained in the middle of it all, running the length of the worship hall and leading up to the roaring fire of the hearth that remained eternally lit for sacrifices. And there, standing with her back to me and facing the fire, stood my mother.
My paws padded on the wooden floor. “Dea Xenia,” I called as I approached. I stopped a few feet away from her, not climbing the dais that led to the hearth. “Uh, Mother. Is something wrong?”
“No, Soteira. Quite the opposite, in fact.” My mother’s voice rumbled with power. I sometimes thought about how stressful it must be to be so strong that even your own voice shook. “It’s come to my attention that you’ve been working hard for half of the year in order to alter the landscape and restore swampland.” My mother turned around to face me and, as usual, I was struck by her resemblance to Lily over the rest of us. Sure, we all had the same skin tone and black hair, though Cinderblaze and I both cut ours short, but the differences were in the details.
I bore two black horns leading to four green points, freckles across my whole body, four black and green and white feathered wings, and the paws of a lion for feet.
Cinderblaze had four black horns where the front two turned red at the points and the back two turned green, roan patterning on his shoulders and furred hips, black and red and green draconic wings, furry legs leading down to hooves, and three draconic tails.
But our mother was once human. She had no horns, no wings. She had scars across her face that marred her features greatly; I often wondered if she was permanently scarred or if she just preferred to bear them. Her black hair was pulled back in a braid, though some shorter chunks framed her face. And Lily looked the most like her, with a small scattering of freckles in place of scars and a ponytail in place of a braid.
But while Cinderblaze had red eyes and I had yellow, both Mother and Lily bore green eyes. Even though Lily was made of water like I had been made of light and Cinderblaze had been made of fire, it wasn’t reflected in her eyes like our sources were.
Sometimes I was jealous of that. I wanted to look like our mother. I wanted to bear a greater resemblance to the powerful woman who had created all of us and our home. Other times, the idea of being in such a feminine body made me recoil. Sometimes, being called a goddess felt...bad.
But in the present, I kept my shoulders squared. “I have,” I confirmed. “Drakôn had been injured by the invasion and was hiding to heal, but she couldn’t heal because Húdrā had turned all of the contested ground into forest, and because she was injured, she couldn’t just turn it back. I realized what happened when one of the satyrs I was hunting a dragon with found a baby dragon that didn’t grow, and that brought my attention to the problem. I found Drakôn’s hiding place and realized what the problem was. So I’ve been working on studying swamps and ecological restoration methods introduced on other planes, because Lily said I should give it a look.”
Mother was rarely a woman who smiled, but to my surprise, that was what I saw as I finished speaking. “Thank you, Soteira.”
I blinked a few times. Then I folded my wings more properly against my back. “I didn’t do it to be thanked.”
“No,” Mother agreed. “You did it because it needed to be done. You did it because you saw the problem and did not want to let it remain a problem. And THAT is why I thank you.”
“...Oh,” I said. That was what I had done.
Mother stepped down from the dais. We were the same height, though my horns and wings and layered robes (...that were still stained with dirt, I realized) made me visually larger than her. But I still felt smaller than her. It was so easy to remember the process of my own creation, how she cradled light in her hands until it turned into me. I was the youngest of my sisters, the youngest creation before Dea Haliplanktos made manticores. And with how tired Mother seemed, I was pretty sure I would be the last thing that she personally created.
Mother’s palm cradled my cheek like my own had just cradled Drakôn’s. “You have done something new and impressive, Soteira,” she said, trying to make her voice softer. “I am proud of you. This was an oversight that I should have addressed myself, but even I did not realize what was happening. You have done something good, something that benefits the whole of Thyrsus. I would like to offer you another domain, another aspect, to make this easier in the future if it becomes necessary again.”
My wings fluttered against my back. I raised my gaze to my mother’s in shock. “Really?” I asked. “That’s...I can have another domain?” I already bore light and battle as part of my duties. And Lily had claimed trickery several months ago, but it did not occur to me that Mother could just...grant it.
Mother nodded. “If you would like, you may bear the duties of ecological care, expanding your duties as the Saving Goddess from saving not just mortals, but also to the lands they live and rely on.”
I thought about that as Mother’s hand fell away for a moment. I was busy and often called to aid or bless mortals who fought monsters. Some even called me to bless their hunts. Already, mortals considered my duties to expand from battle against monsters to more of a battle against hunger itself. So why not expand that further? If I were also involved in monitoring and caring for the land itself, it would be easier to see what was a threat and what animals or monsters needed time to recover their numbers. I’d be able to better help with the balance between Drakôn and Húdrā. It would be more work, but I wouldn’t be doing it alone. I could get the help of other goddesses, of mortals, of people past Thyrsus, just like I already had.
I finally nodded. “I accept, Mother.”
“Then I name you Dea Soteira, the Saving Goddess, the Light of Battle, Sword-Sister, the Savior of Land and Beasts.”
Marshes and Swamps by Mia Bosna, from the Journey To Rewilding oracle deck. I found out about it via this Tumblr post.
Malkonia awoke to the smell of something cooking. Or, more accurately, burning. She moved to reach for a loose pillow with her right hand. No matter what she did, nothing moved. Her body still throbbed lightly in pain.
She finally opened her eyes. She was laying on several cushions, covered by a few blankets, and was still in the strange library temple. The only person in the building again was the goddess Lily, who was...currently burning the shit out of what was probably supposed to be breakfast and cursing profusely under her breath in a way that would make even Captain Lannery Storm blush.
“Motherfucker,” the goddess cursed as she tossed a very burnt...some kind of shell into the brazier outside. “There, Mom, another burnt-to-shit offering for you. It’s definitely not edible for the mortals now.”
Malkonia giggled. It hurt a little to do that. “What are you burning?”
“Corn tortillas that we got from a trader from Ixalan, someone who called themself an ‘Oltec’,” Lily responded immediately, seemingly not surprised that Malkonia was awake. “Unfortunately I appear to be even more useless at cooking mortal food than even my old adventuring party friends. If Koda hadn’t kept us fed we would have been eating charred rocks three days into any dungeon crawl. I suppose we’ll eat these cold since I am too bad with fire to warm them up without reducing them to ash and cinder.”
Malkonia used her remaining arm to push herself up into a sitting position. Her xiphos lay in its sheath nearby, within easy reach.
Lily stalked over, visibly still pouting about her inability to warm the food properly, and sat down on her left among the cushions with the tray of remaining unburnt food.
Malkonia blinked a few times at the strange array of food. She could only identify the olives. “What is all of this?”
“Corn tortillas from Ixalan,” Lily said, showing her how to lay one out, “and azuki beans and miso from Kamigawa, because Koda would kill me if I didn’t have any on hand if he were to visit. Lettuce from Amonkhet, which I managed to shred without injuring myself. The tomatoes and avocados are also from Ixalan. The olives, as you know, are from Theros, and the onions are from here in Thyrsus.”
Malkonia had to take a moment and admire just how many different planes, some of which she had only heard about and others she hadn’t, had come together to create this strange spread offered for an ariston meal. Five planes, eight foodstuffs. It was incredible. She muttered a thanks to the goddess Karametra for the harvest on instinct, then remembered that she was in a temple dedicated to another goddess and looked over at Lily to make sure she had not offended her.
Lily just smiled and went about layering the beans, the fruits and vegetables, and finally the miso in the tortilla shell before wrapping it up. Malkonia tried to mimic her but got sidetracked by taste-testing all of the offered foods first. She did not care much for the tomatoes on their own, but when combined with the rest, it was delicious. It was a bit more difficult to make it work with only one hand, but she did her best. Before Malkonia knew it, she had eaten four tortillas full of food.
“I managed to get into contact with Pontifex Fein,” Lily said once she was done eating as well. “He’s informing your mother and your aunt of your location. My mortal friend’s brother, Vasro, can assist with getting you to them when you feel ready to go. He’s capable of creating Omenpaths himself and enjoys helping where he can.”
Malkonia let out a soft sigh of relief. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Lily smiled again. “Hey, I would be setting a poor example if I didn’t live up to my mother’s primary teachings of hospitality and aid.”
“Who is your mother?” Lily had mentioned also striving to live up to her own mother’s example, and the way she spoke implied that she was...probably as young as she looked, though Malkonia couldn’t even begin to guess human ages.
“Ah, right, I didn’t mention that... My mother is the Dea Xenia. She created Thyrsus and the Dea Telos and Dea Arkhe as its first goddesses.”
“Ending and Beginning?”
“Precisely. Twenty-four...or maybe twenty-five now...years ago, she crafted myself and my two siblings, the Dea Praxidike and Dea Soteira, from leftover mana as both clones of herself and as standalone beings.” Lily pressed a hand to her chest. “I am the only human of Thyrsus, excluding my mother’s usual form. My brother, the Exactor of Justice, is its only demon. My sister, the Saving Goddess, is its only angel.”
Malkonia blinked. “Your brother has a feminine title?” She was sort of used to the idea now, after knowing Captain Storm – she had learned about words for peoples who were not men or women as humans understood them. It honestly sounded like how gorgons and sirens treated the idea of gender. She also realized that the goddess she was sitting beside was only a few years her senior.
“He does, and he’s happy with it, like how I am happy to be feminine despite the fact that my mother...cut some corners when making me. But enough about that for now. I should inform Pontifex Fein that you are awake and coherent so we can reunite you with your mother.”
Malkonia’s stomach twisted slightly. She wanted to see her mother and her aunt again, but could she really look at them when she had failed to protect Skathos in their absence like they asked her to? She had been given one duty and had been very swiftly proven incapable of doing it.
Lily’s right hand hand moved. It now rested on her knee, palm up. An offer. Malkonia’s remaining hand settled on top of it.
“...It was not your fault that you’re now injured,” the goddess said gently. “And from what I have gleaned in communication with the Pontifex, your mother is worried about you, not angry at you. Once you are ready, we’ll bring you to them.” She paused for a moment. “...And if you would like a prosthetic, the telkhines invented the art of smithing on Thyrsus, but my dear mortal friend is incredibly talented in creating prosthetic arms. Years of practice and all.”
A prosthetic. The word was new, but self-explanatory. Malkonia thought about that. “It would be made of metal?”
“Yes. Most likely thassium if created by the telkhines.”
Malkonia blinked a few times. That was definitely a new word. “What’s thassium?”
Lily pointed towards her spear. “Do you see the dark blue metal? And how it doesn’t reflect light to flash and draw attention? Thassium. It is a metal unique to Thyrsus and is found only in the deepest parts of the ocean, so it is only used by telkhine smiths. It is incredibly pressure-resistant and has a lower melting point than copper but a higher one than gold or bronze.”
Malkonia blinked a few times. “It doesn’t appear on any other plane?”
“Not naturally, no. I’ve given a few pieces to some friends to forge with or study, but as far as we’ve found, it’s solely Thyrsian. They also work with a particular kind of iron with a stronger resistance to weathering, but it does not hold an edge, so they typically use it for more practical objects.”
Malkonia’s heart skipped a beat. “Do they use iron in the prosthetics they make?”
“Yes, usually for the pieces that require a little flexibility or as connecting pieces for thassium ones.” Lily studied her for a moment. “You seem interested in that idea.”
Malkonia hesitated for a moment. Then she decided to confide in the goddess. “There’s a...prophecy, that says that I’m...going to kill my aunt and become an iron-fisted ruler. I thought it said I was going to be a tyrant, and it still might, but...if ‘iron-fisted’ was literal...”
“Ah, very clever,” Lily said with a nod. Malkonia’s cheeks heated up slightly. “I will make sure that the prosthetic incorporates oceanic iron. Makelo will enjoy a new project.”
“Please let her know that I can’t express my gratitude enough for how she found and saved me.”
“Of course. Let’s get some measurements.” Lily slowly got up and retrieved a measuring tape that looked very similar to the kind used by the seamstresses in Gorgia. Malkonia did her best to stay still as Lily took a variety of measurements around her arm, shoulder, and where her other arm and shoulder used to be. She didn’t record any of the numbers by writing them down, just memorizing them.
Once Lily was done, she straightened up and nodded to Malkonia. “All done. I’ll go update Makelo now. Feel free to peruse any books here until I return.” Once Malkonia nodded back, the goddess was gone.
Malkonia took a deep breath, then slowly eased herself up out of the cushion nest. The various books all around seemed to be written in the same language, and it was close enough to Therosian that she could decipher it. She searched until she found a volume regarding the telkhines. Just one interaction with one of them had inspired a fascination in her of what they were and how they had come to be on this plane. It took a bit of struggling and using a table and a strangely heavy string left on it, but she got the book opened up to begin perusing it. She skipped past the introduction that spoke about the importance of recording even obvious information, though she could agree with the stance. She just wanted to get to the first chapter about their origin and anatomy.
Telkhines were crafted by the Dea Arkhe from its own life energy alongside errant water energy that made it to Thyrsus through means that are not mythologically known. They were created to embody and protect the wilds of the sea, to keep the other species in check and prevent them from simply taking over the waves themselves. Very soon after their creation, they invented the art of smithing, which they later taught to their younger cousins, the cyclopes.
Telkhines appear as oceanic beings with the heads of wolves and clawed hands that they share with gorgons, harpies, satyrs, and sirens. Their upper bodies are covered in hydrophobic fur that keeps them warm as they dive down into the deeper parts of the ocean. Thanks to a cultural tendency towards learning transmutative magic, many of them make alterations to their bodies as needed in order to dwell in the depths of the ocean and across the surface, though most do not travel farther than three miles from the ocean over land.
Malkonia kept reading past that, fascinated by each piece of information offered. The book was written by someone who seemed to be offering an introduction to extraplanar visitors. Though given how busy the port was with visitors, that was obviously intentional.
She looked up when she heard Lily return. Lily offered her a smile. “I’ve updated the Pontifex about your condition. Are you ready to go?”
Malkonia quickly retrieved her xiphos and accepted Lily’s help to tie the sword to her new belt. She also made sure to put the book back where she found it. Then she nodded. “I’m ready.”
It was time to reunite with her mother and her aunt. She just hoped that she hadn’t let them down.
You emerged from your planeswalk in a surge of stone. The neon lights of the street immediately gave you a headache because of how much they clashed with the natural darkness of the area. The advertisements blaring from speakers located Saint-knows-where didn’t help in the slightest.
You were in front of an orphanage. You didn’t want to be here, exactly. You didn’t want to be around children. Not after finding out what you had actually done. But you were here to meet with your nephew. So you pulled the door open and stepped just inside over the threshold.
Your nephew was preparing to leave and come back to Torrezon. He needed a break. So did you. Only one of you would be getting it.
“Hayashi,” you greeted. Using his surname felt appropriate here. This was his territory, his home, his domain. “Almost ready?”
“Almost,” he said, tightening his gauntlet on his right wrist. You shuddered slightly as the leech gauntlet’s “mouth” opened when he flexed it. You once wanted one of those for yourself, when you were still ensnared and enslaved; only two existed now, both invented by the young man that your brother had adopted. One was his, and the other was still with your brother-in-law. “But I got the...things you requested ready.” He turned and picked up a cloth bag. “Forging cold iron is a right pain in the ass. You’d better make this worth the trouble, Earthquake.”
You forced a smile to your lips – lips that weren’t as scarred as they used to be – and took the bag. Inside were prosthetic pieces that matched your right hand and fingers in all but material. You reached into the bag, disconnected your magic from the existing pieces, and reconnected it to the cold iron ones. You pulled your hand from the bag and flexed it. The pieces responded just as quickly and smoothly as the others.
“Let me see the anchor,” your nephew said. His voice left no room for argument. You held out your arm and let him examine where the pieces met what remained of your flesh and bone on that side. “This is a lot of chafing, that’s not supposed to happen...”
“I’ve been working more healing magic into the...end, to help with it,” you quietly volunteered. “Still doesn’t feel right.”
“Motherfucker... I’ll take another look at this when we’ve got access to a Torrezone forge.”
You nodded slightly. You had no idea how the different forges would influence a prosthetic, but you also knew better than to ask. “I have a question for you.”
“Not that much of a surprise. Shoot.”
“Have you heard of something called Utter Silence?”
To your surprise, your nephew’s entire body tensed up for a moment. His mouth worked. He looked around, though you were the only two present in the entryway of the orphanage. Finally, he looked back at you and reflexively lowered his voice. “Yes.”
Your heart threatened to beat. “What can you tell me about Her?”
“...There is a Kami of Utter Silence. When she passes, walls lose their secrets, scrolls lose their lessons, and tapestries lose their beauty. Where there once was meaning, there becomes only stillness.”
A shudder crawled up your spine. “Is She...also a fae?”
“No.” Your nephew took a deep breath. “But they might be connected.”
You chewed on your lip and tried not to pierce it with your metal fangs. You had rescued Vasro from New Capenna’s Utter Silence. Arturo...he wanted to take a whole unit of Legionnaires and deal with the Court of Omission in New Capenna in the way that he knew best.
Something in the back of your mind whispered, repeating Utter Silence’s voice and recognition of you. Theirsi’s hunting dog.
“I won’t let Her get any of you,” you said softly. “Vasro, you, Arturo, Lazaro, none of you will fall under Her sway. I’ll make sure of it.”
He put a hand on your arm. “I know, uncle,” he said, keeping his voice down. “I know I’m not a planeswalker anymore, but call me when you need me.” When, not if. “I know we’ve pointedly tried to kill each other a lot, but... Mom, Mum, and Pops trust you. So do Arturo and Lazaro. I trust you.”
Your mouth felt dry. You weren’t sure what was appropriate here, given your shared history. But you raised your left hand and gently squeezed his, trying to put a lot of emotions in the action that you couldn’t find words for. You tried to anyway. “Thank you, Koda.”
He offered you a cocky grin. “You’re a sad sap, you know that?”
“Guess that makes two of us.” Your returned grin was a lot more shaken. “I’ll keep you updated. You look after Vasro.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.” He let go of your hand and offered you a mock salute.
You offered the same and stepped back, allowing stone to surge up around you while you planeswalked away to your second destination.
You stepped out of the wall, your heels echoing across the tile floor as you continued walking. The halls are empty. You could taste the divination magic clinging to the air. Scrying spells and prophecies. It tasted like inevitable doom.
You pushed open the large door in front of you. “Grand Oracle Raffine.”
The demonic sphinx looked down at you. “Sir Ayere.”
“You know why I’m here.” No sense beating around the bush with someone who could see every future.
“Vasro was targeted by the Court of Omission.” Was that pain in her voice? You knew that she considered Vasro to be her son. That was why you were here. “And you wish to know what I do about them.”
“Exactly.” You waited.
The silence dragged on. Her eyes were boring into you like a drill through stone. You met her gaze evenly.
“She has never stepped in personally before,” the Obscura matriarch began. “Every other time She has come after the Obscura, even those closest to me, it has been through one of Her Court rather than personal attention. Vasro has found information that She wants to keep hidden. And the only way for Her to do that this time was to take the information from him.”
“That’s what I thought.” You didn’t budge. You knew there was more.
“...She cannot target me, nor any other demon family head. So She is going after the son I care about.”
Part of you felt guilty. How often had the Honorable Judge made you do the same? You didn’t remember. Maybe the Court of Omission was fat and happy off of your own stolen memories.
The other part of you steeled your heart. “How do I get rid of Her?”
“It will not be as easy as it was to overthrow the Honorable Judge,” she warned. “The remaining High Fae know that they can be replaced by extraplanar fae. They are on high alert now.”
“That’s fine.” You could slip into another realm. If you were made to be a hunting dog, then you would hunt. You turned to leave. “Protect your own, Grand Oracle. I’ll keep Vasro safe.”
“...Thank you, Sir Ayere.” You heard her hesitation. You didn’t blame her for being wary of uttering those words. You still felt the pull of the fae realms. You were forever marked as feytouched.
And you would use it to bring ruin to any fae that laid a hand on your family.
You disappeared into the tiles as you planeswalked. One more stop.
Waves beat against stone and sand as you stepped out of the planeswalk on the storm-wracked shore. It was probably the worst place to wear heels to. You used more of your geomancy to stabilize yourself as you trudged up to the wooden docks and then onwards to the stone pathways leading further into the village. No one spared you a second glance as you walked. Actalia had gotten used to strange visitors.
The temple resembled a library. The goddess was a young woman in both physical and chronological age. She turned when your footsteps became audible. “Arke.”
“Dea Pronoia.” You paused and leaned against one of the tables to stay upright. Your left leg, the prosthetic, felt a bit unstable. Probably because you were exhausted. “How’s the fae research going?”
“It’s going,” she said in a tone that made it clear that no miraculous breakthroughs had occurred. “How’s the hunt?”
You sighed. “It could be better,” you admitted. You flexed your right hand to draw attention to the cold iron pieces. “Hayashi made me another set for the prosthetic. Raffine didn’t have much to say that I hadn’t already realized. Any luck on...memory restoration magic yet?”
The goddess shook her head. “It’s beyond my power,” she admitted with a bitter tone and slumped shoulders. “You’d need someone at least as old as the fae who took them.”
“Like your mother.” You didn’t like the idea of facing the Dea Xenia again. “Saint’s teeth, it’s dead end after dead end...”
“You should speak more with Lazaro and your parents, see what they can illuminate,” the goddess suggested. “I will continue research and potentially join you in beating Utter Silence to death with a pipe.”
You laughed before you realized it, scaring yourself. “Like how Lazaro handled the Honorable Judge. It’s an effective method.” You went quiet. Should you confide in this goddess, this being so detached from mortality, whose only interaction with them was primarily through your nephew? But the sentence was out of your mouth before you could catch it. “...I don’t even remember when I was born.”
She blinked a few times. “Oh. Oh. That’s how much was taken from you?”
You nodded. You felt numb. “I’m considering it a miracle that I remembered the names of my family.”
“...Arke...” she began. Then she paused again. As though trying to find something to say to help. “...Seize what information you can relearn. Then we’ll make them pay.”
“Of course.” You bowed, keeping a hand on the table so you didn’t fall. “Keep me updated.”
“Likewise.” The goddess turned and grabbed another book to continue her work.
You stepped outside of the temple. You took a deep breath. And you planeswalked away.
The question had come from Gesserith, the newer mortal that I had bonded with. We did not have the cohesion that I had with Koda. Not yet. But we were getting there.
I had simply responded smugly. Not even Koda had figured it out yet. But the more I thought about it, the sadder I felt. I was careful to not let those feelings out into the bond. The last thing my bonded mortals needed was my sadness on top of their own.
I still remembered the taste. Honey drizzled over sun-dried figs, goat cheese smeared across bread, washed down with a wine older than most civilizations.
But more than that, I remembered the company. A smiling blonde woman whose curls waved in the breeze like her clothes and armor and with golden brown eyes that were as warm and comforting as the chocolate we occasionally delighted in. A darker woman in both appearance and demeanor who sat with us with eyes like a darkened forest and all of the dangers held within.
Serra and Laila.
We had been inseparable for many, many years. We had delighted deeply in each other’s company. It was with them that I had learned of planeswalkers, of lands beyond Kamigawa, even before the Kami War and my source began pushing at the barriers.
It was not the food itself, but the love. Those two wonderful women, powerful in their own rights, who chose to spend some of their incomprehensibly-long lives with me and with each other.
Hythonia worked her way around the building again, her tail coiling for the...third time? Fourth time? She had been “pacing” since she had been told that Malkonia would be arriving soon. Part of her was grateful that the communications network managed to connect the one who found and rescued her daughter with her sister’s pet-son-ward-student so that she did not return to Skathos to find her daughter missing. Another part of her was cursing herself for not returning to Skathos with haste; had she been there, maybe her daughter would not have been injured and driven off.
Menea put a hand on her arm. “Sister. You’re going to cause structural damage.”
“...Right.” Hythonia flexed her tail, working it loose from around the...whatever this building functioned as. She didn’t care, really.
A planeswalker appeared out of nowhere, though she detected them a moment before they became visible. A blue and octopus-esque humanoid. Hythonia glared at him, careful to keep her petrification held back. Recent events had truly bittered her to the idea of planeswalkers as potential allies, but... This one was bringing her daughter to her. Before her very eyes, an Omenpath opened, and two people came through.
The only one Hythonia focused on at first was her daughter. Malkonia had been given many layers of cloth to cover herself and protect from the cold air of Torrezon. Her right arm was truly gone at the shoulder, but the wound had been healed and protected by several layers of thick cloth. She even still had her sword, though it now sat on the opposite hip than it had before so she could actually reach it. Malkonia’s eyes were downturned. Her remaining shoulder was slumped. Even her serpents, half-hidden under the hood of a black-and-green vine-patterned cloak, were quiet.
Hythonia slithered close and wrapped her arms around her daughter. Comfort did not come naturally to one as ancient and as cruel as Hythonia herself. But she gathered her daughter into her arms. “I’m here,” she said, keeping her voice low. She did not dare consider her own voice soft, but she kept it quiet. “I’m here, kóri.”
“I couldn’t do it, mamá,” Malkonia whispered. Hythonia had to strain to hear her daughter. “I couldn’t keep Skathos safe while you and Aunt Menea were gone...”
“Hush, young one.” Hythonia wanted to both hold her daughter tighter and to loosen her grip to more properly look at her. “You did your best. I should not have spent so long separate from you.” I should have been there to protect you.
“The important part is that you are safe,” Menea said, her voice as gentle as Hythonia currently wished her own was. She gently laid a hand on Malkonia’s remaining arm. “What happened?”
Malkonia’s grip in the hug with her mother tightened just a bit. Hythonia grew more worried at how little strength she showed in it. “There was a...a planeswalker. They...looked human at first, but so many details became so wrong. They were...too clean. And their eyes didn’t...I tried to petrify them, but it didn’t work.”
“It’s alright, my beloved girl. I will make sure they do not hurt you again,” Hythonia whispered, reaching up to brush away some of Malkonia’s tears with her thumb.
Malkonia sniffled a little but managed to continue. “After they...cut off my arm...I managed to get away and wound up falling through an Omenpath that opened up beneath me. It dropped me into an ocean, and a telkhine named Makelo found me.”
Telkhine. Hythonia bristled slightly. That was a species name she had not heard in a very, very long time. The telkhines of Theros had been an early collaboration between the gods Thassa and Purphoros, far enough back that even myths of their existence had been forgotten by all of the shorter-lived mortals of the plane. But Hythonia remembered. And based on Menea’s similar reaction, her sister recalled them as well.
Malkonia either hadn’t noticed her mother and aunt go tense, or was too tired to focus on it. “She brought me to Actalia and called for Lily, and Lily helped me from there.”
Now Hythonia turned her attention to the young woman who had helped her daughter through the now-closed Omenpath. There was a strong feeling of divinity in her, the sort found in the gods of Theros that made it clear that if she were not a goddess, she simply would not exist. But she was also clearly young. She both looked young and acted like it. She still had the rough, jagged edge of a stone that had yet to be worn smooth by time and experience. It was not often that one saw a baby god, but Hythonia surprisingly found herself endeared to this strange rescuer of her daughter.
And a single glance at Menea confirmed to Hythonia that she was not alone in that feeling, though considering the strange duo of Mavren and Lannery that Menea had already taken in, this was no surprise to Hythonia herself.
Hythonia gently elbowed her sister while still hugging her daughter to get her to focus again. “Thank you for helping my daughter. I do not know if I can truly repay you,” she said simply.
Lily bowed slightly. “The laws of hospitality say that we should try to help everyone who comes to our door. I try to live up to my own mother’s teachings.”
Hythonia silently started making bets on how long it would take Menea to take Lily under her wing like she had for Lannery and Mavren. Current bet was twenty minutes at most.
Menea spoke before Hythonia could say anything. “If you are not needed back in Thyrsus right away, then please allow us to share a meal with you as thanks for rescuing Malkonia.”
The young goddess hesitated for a moment, then nodded her assent. “Of course. Thank you.”
Not even forty seconds. Hythonia would have to get better at gambling and bets before she ever tried to involve another person in it.
She kept an arm around Malkonia as she guided her daughter into a building and out of the cold with Menea and Lily behind them. It wasn’t exactly the most spacious building, nothing like their cave on Skathos, but Mavren was kind enough to permit them to stay in it. It kept the cold at bay.
And maybe, just maybe, she could find some way to ensure that her daughter was not put into harm’s way against a planeswalker again.
Upside of staying in mortal realms for prolonged periods: You don't feel as disconnected from everything.
Downside of staying in mortal realms for prolonged periods: I am now apparently an expert in mortal relationship drama. Someone in this port is getting divorced over a goat.
You sat at the dining room table across from your father. Or, well, across from one of them. Silentsign, Pops, your nezumi dad. He smiled at you, and you smiled back, even though everything that was coming up made your stomach twist into knots. Toshiro the mastiff – not much of a puppy anymore – snoozed by your feet.
You raised your hands and signed. Nezumi sign language took a bit more effort for you than for a nezumi. “I’ve made an arrangement so you have a second watching your back during the next suitor party.” You didn’t want to have another suitor party. Or the inevitable third one. But work was work, and this was part of the price you were paying. At least you could be sure that your dad would be safe. You’d handle the payment later.
Pops tilted his head. You watched his clipped ear twitch as he signed. Ears, whiskers, tail, hands. The four main things to watch in nezumi sign language. “Who are they?”
“Renaissance of the Maestros. New Capennan. Very skilled assassin.” They were older than you in the same field of work as your parents used to be in. “Planeswalker. Professional.”
You had already asked Renaissance and confirmed this with them. Thank you for trusting me with this task, they had said over text. Trust. You supposed you were trusting them more than you trusted most business acquaintances. Or even your own family at times.
“I’d like to meet them so I can see how well I can work with them,” Pops signed back. “If you trust them, I will be nice.”
You nodded. “I’ll make the arrangements,” you promised. You looked up when you heard a knock on the door and then heard it open. “That must be Lily. She said she wanted to come by tonight. Excuse me.” After Pops nodded, you got up and gently prodded Toshiro with your foot to wake him up. He stretched and yawned, then padded after you as you slipped out of the kitchen and into the front hall.
Lily was waiting for you. She clearly had the family spark back based on the renewed confidence in her step. She still wore that same blend of robes and armor that you had come to consider her personal uniform. And she had...something wrapped in cloth in her arms.
You just gave her a side hug. “Hey Lily,” you whispered, letting some of your exhaustion slip into your voice. “Thanks for coming by. What did you want to talk about?”
She closed her eyes and let out a soft, exhausted sigh of her own for a moment within the hug, then perked back up. “A few things, but first, sit down so I can give you this.” She held up the thing in her arms.
You smiled and shook your head before you sat down as directed. “Do you want me to close my eyes and hold out my hands too?” you teased.
“That is entirely up to you.”
You opted not to and let the goddess gently set the bundle down in your lap. It was decently hefty, so you unwrapped the cloth with care. You inhaled when you saw the first bit of bone. Serpentine structure, no teeth, horns that curled just like the body and tail of the living being had.
You swallowed and gently held up the Thyrsian dragon skull. It was easily the size of a small dog. “Lily, this is...” You trailed off. You gently ran a thumb across the lower jaw of the skull.
She held up a hand. “I know that you have specific things you do to ask the skull spirit for permission for skull scrying,” she said. “But I figured that if anyone could blend the talents of skull scrying with knowledge of Thyrsian dragons, it would be you.”
You swallowed and gently set the skull back in your lap. “Thank you, Lily.” You didn’t know what else to say as you gazed at the skull in your hands and gently ran a thumb around the curve of one of its horns.
She sat down next to you. “You’re welcome, Koda.” She reached into one of the various pockets of her robes. If it were anyone else right now, you would have expected a weapon. But you knew that Lily didn’t keep weapons in her pockets. You were still confused when she removed a bag from her pocket and opened it to reveal the teeth that were meant to be part of the skull. “As you know, in Thyrsus, the teeth of dragons can be sown to create soldiers matching the species of the one who sows them. I also know that you have a strong aversion to the idea of creating people specifically to be soldiers.”
That you did, given what the Imperial Court and the noble families did to their clones. To ones like Redlash and the newly-named Quickpaw. To anyone they found useful enough to repeat over and over until the clones’ bodies gave out.
You also knew just how dangerous the Spartoi were when they first sprouted. They were aggressive and lashed out violently until the one who had sown them either calmed or killed them. It took several months in a one-on-one setting to help a Spartoi learn how to live, communicate, and work with others in combat rather than striking alone. This necessity for time, patience, and one-to-one training was why you had not mentioned this particularity of Thyrsus’s native dragons and their teeth to your vampiric fathers when the question of manpower ever came up.
“I am not asking you to help,” Lily said softly, “but I wanted to ask for your thoughts on what might happen if we changed the variables. A non-Thyrsian sowing the teeth in Thyrsian soil. A Thyrsian sowing the teeth in non-Thyrsian soil. A non-Thyrsian sowing the teeth in non-Thyrsian soil.”
You leaned back and tried to focus solely on the theoretical. “The way I see it, you have several other variables to consider, such as how close another plane is to Thyrsus both magically and in terms of placement in the Blind Eternities, or if the non-Thyrsian is of a species similar to a Thyrsian one or not.”
Lily was listening intently. The two of you had spent several years now going back and forth on magical theory and spell work. You both enjoyed the chance to poke holes into each other’s works.
“So what you’re actually testing is the similarity between a plane’s overall magic balance to see if you can replicate the results on another plane and whether the dragon tooth is capable of copying a non-Thyrsian species or if the cultural memory of the plane’s dragons will only create Spartoi from Thyrsians.” You paused. “But most of the mortal species were created after the Progenitor Dragon and Progenitor Hydra, right?”
She nodded. “Mythologically speaking, yes. And every mortal species of Thyrsus, including the gorgons and nymphai and lotus feeders, can create Spartoi matching them.”
You didn’t like what you were going to say next. But you needed to be honest. “This seems like something you’d have to actually test instead of leaving it in the theoretical.”
Lily remained quiet for a few moments. “...I’m aware,” she finally said. “I just didn’t want you to think that I was going into this without thinking.”
You snorted. “I don’t think I can accuse you of not thinking, Lily. Maybe I can accuse you of not knowing everything, but you do try to actually think about things.”
She laughed. It was an unsteady yet familiar sound. One that she had been trying to make more consistently ever since the two of you first met in Odithis several years back when you stole a kill from her. “Thank you, Koda. It’s nice to be able to speak with you about these things. You always find the blindspot.”
“I’d be a pretty shit assassin if I couldn’t.”
She put the teeth back into the bag. “...Would you like these?” she finally offered.
You had figured this question, this offer, had been coming. You wordlessly held out your hand, palm up. Once she deposited it in your grasp, you gently closed your fingers around it. You felt the teeth within. There were forty-six of various sizes and shapes. You could almost completely restore the Dokuchi Reckoners to pre-Phyrexian Invasion numbers if this worked.
But you just tucked the teeth away in the pocket of your armor. “Anything else you wanna talk about?” you prompted.
Lily fidgeted with her sleeve for a moment while she put the words together. “Cinder’s traveling without the spark.”
“Funny enough, so is Mum.” You weren’t too sure why your mother had decided to strike off on another trip, especially without Pops, but you knew better than to ask. “Maybe they’ll run into each other.”
Another laugh. “That would be something. The Exactor of Justice and the scariest woman I’ve had the pleasure of meeting. Like one of those stories you told me about mountain ronin with their sidekicks that they can’t get rid of. Except it’s my brother that’s the sidekick.” Lily finally stood up. “I’m pretty sure that’s everything, but I’ll text you if I think of something else. Have fun with your new skull friend.”
“I will,” you said with a nod. “Keep your own ass covered, Lily.”
She stepped outside of the door and planeswalked away in the familiar flurry of pages. You gently picked up the dragon skull again to stare into its empty eye sockets. “...You and I are going to become very good friends, Ismenios,” you whispered to it.
Within the bone, you felt the skull spirit awaken.
