“The world tree is also represented in the mythologies and folklore of Northern Asia and Siberia. In the mythology of the Samoyeds, the world tree connects different realities (underworld, this world, upper world) together. In their mythology the world tree is also the symbol of Mother Earth who is said to give the Samoyed shaman his drum and also help him travel from one world to another.”

- The Journey to the Afterlife

***Dedessia, the Sea of Souls, Semper Fidelis***

***Shade***

I take another bite from my sandwich and chew, patiently listening to my father's complaints. Half the town is in uproar because I simply claimed the entire place as my own. Oh, and they found out who I am. Seems like some of the gods remember my crystal city, Ishaan included. Though they never met me in person. Doreen and quite a few others never visited the crystal city. My pantheon and my home were a mere myth to them.

It's not surprising. Getting an audience with Angrod was pretty much the hardest task in the multiverse. And the multiverse was a big place.

In any case, I am surprised that there are so many rumours about my old pantheon. Most of my citizens are simple immortals. They aren't gods, and therefore never visited the crystal city. That place was for gods only.

Though most of the existing gods probably visited the centre and my crystal city at one point or the other. But if they didn't stay for an extended period of time those memories are likely to be lost.

I quenched the uproar by giving them a choice. Either they shut up and be happy as my subjects, or they can go and live in the swamp.

It has been four weeks since I created the city. Strangely enough it has been quiet so far. I certainly shouldn't complain since it gave me time to create a basic control system for the core and a few more seeds.

“... you really serious!? You tell me that you will make extraordinary weapons for all of us, and this is what I get?” Ishaan lifts the huge club.

I grew it directly from a new seed and stayed true to its initial form. It looks very much like an oversized icicle. But what's truly important is its capacity to hold mana and the enchantments I wove into the crystal.

“I think it's fine. It fits your theme,” I comment without remorse and take another bite from my sandwich, finishing it.

“Yes, but it doesn't have those red lines of your staff. It's clearly an inferior weapon. How can I, the great ice titan, have a weapon that's weaker than my son's?” he complains.

I snort. “Unless you can wield chaos magic, those red lines won't do you any good. And if your complaints are just about its shape, then I suggest that you bond with your weapon and learn to command it. It can take any form you wish. All you have to do is to command it properly.”

Ishaan scowls and makes a pleading gesture. “Son, Angrod, Shade, please. You have to give me a way out of this without losing face. I am your father. Your mother has been obnoxious since you gave me this stick! She's been joking non-stop about its size. And you know that I am bad at this imagination thing.”

I raise an eyebrow. This line was completely unlike Ishaan. “Tell you what. How about you try to form your weapon according to your wishes. You can train each day as long as you want. And if you don't manage it, I will return the weapon to its former shape at the end of the day. Deal?”

“Fine,” he grumbles and concentrates on his weapon. And indeed, it starts changing shape until it looks more like a stick than an icicle. Then it starts wobbling and sags to the ground.

If Mother was joking about its size previously, then she will call him a limp noodle once she sees that.

At least Ishaan seems to put a lot of effort into it. His muscles bulge and his face turns a funny shade of pink. Reddening is probably impossible for a pale man like him.

I sneak out of the living room and leave him to his own devices. Ishaan taught me a lot of things, but the necessary trance to connect with the crystals doesn't seem to be his forte.

Maybe I'll tell him tonight that it isn't about flexing your muscles and holding your breath.

I created weapons and armour for everyone. Each of the women also got a set of trinkets. Elona went with daggers, Manti got a baton, Doreen requested knuckles, Quianna went with chakrams and Tisha insisted on a kitchen knife. Strange, I know. Of course they are able to shape their weapons according to their wishes, but that's what they initially asked for.

It seems like I still have a lot to learn about my mother. For example why she wanted five earrings instead of two.

“Are you going to play with the city's crystal core?” Elona's voice travels down the corridor.

I stop and wait for her to catch up to me. Seria isn't with her this time. Probably Doreen snatched the child. She announced that she wouldn't pass on her last chance at having at least one sane, female family member. I feel for her. She is the only woman with a shred of decency inside a den of sex demons!

Maybe she should take up arms with Manti.

I lose myself in thoughts while we walk. “Yeah... I was just thinking about that. And I was wondering why Tisha wanted five crystal earrings. At first I thought that she might intend to give them them away. But five strikes me as an odd number in that case.”

Elona chuckles, her mood on the rise. “Oh, Shade. You are thinking too innocently. There are a lot of places a woman can decorate.”

“Like here.” She points at her earlobes. “Or here.” She pinches her nipples through her black dress. “Or here!” She reaches for the spot between...

“I understand!” I cut her short. Gods in heaven, I don't want to hear about this when it is involving Mother. “Don't do that in a public hallway, woman!”

“Yes, I am with you on that point,” Elona giggles. “That's why I am much more comfortable with my version of jewellery.” She reaches for her horns. They are encircled by a complicated inlay of mana crystal. It must have taken a lot of time and effort to shape the crystal directly onto her horns. Then there are the nasty blades on her tail and wings. She upgraded her natural weaponry.

“How are the weapons for the men working out?”

I nod. “Good. Aswang got his spear and Antonius went with a morning star and a shield. The choice fits his physique. The only one who is a little grumpy is Ishaan, but he is learning to cope with it.” People will fear him even more once they realize that he can beat them up with a limp noodle. It doesn't matter if he wields a magical weapon.

We enter the throne room and I take a seat on the throne. I sank the crystal core into the ground to hide it from prying eyes. Elona's and my throne are functioning as access units instead.

I gesture for the guards to clear the room and engage the projection field. The room is immediately filled with a three dimensional map of the city.

“So what are you going to change this time? You are taking your time with tweaking the city's defences. Do you mind if I enlarge the water cisterns? I've done some calculations and we'll need the extra water if the city ever holds as many people as it can. And there were some petitions by the citizens. Some of them aren't exactly happy with their homes changing unpredictably, so I thought about giving each living block its own controls. Just elementary stuff like interior design. We don't want them to start building weapons.” Elona explains.

I argue with myself for a while, but in the end I decide that granting her access is the easiest way. Even if I try to shut her out of the system, she will surely find a way to get in. And if she has to resort to force, she will surely think of something nasty to vent her frustration on me. “The bedroom is taboo. And no strangely shaped buildings.”

“Aw...”

“You know what I mean.”

“Cheapskate!”

I ignore her and access the security system. Of course I was informed about what we got from our prisoners. I also got a lot of information from the captured souls.

I don't want to downplay the results. We can be pretty sure that Lirian played the part of a messenger. Most likely even for Moonray. But that's it.

When I pay Moonray a visit, I want solid information. All I can do by now, is walking up to him and accuse him of having contact with the slavers. He will smile and tell me that he always had a way to contact them. Duh, how else did he get my mother's letter... one moment. Why didn't I think of that before?

“How exactly did Moonray get his hands on my mother's letter?”

“Hm?” Elona stops dabbling with the city's layout and turns her attention to me.

I call up the security system. “Since I created this city, I also added an observation system for each room and public area. It already gathered petabytes of information, no action stays unrecorded. The only problem is that searching through the data takes a lot of time. I suffer information overload. Unfortunately I need a little more time for an AI. So far I've only managed to set up a basic operating system.”

Elona draws in a deep breath and lets out a sigh. “I won't mention the spying if you promise that you won't tell anyone what you are doing. And no ogling women! No, actually, let me put a lock on recording such scenes. Honestly, what's wrong with you. You get your hands on technology and the first thing you do is bugging everyone around you with spying devices!”

I raise both hands. “What do you want? We are at war. Whoever has the better spies, wins. Information is worth more than an army. And to get back to topic, I just thought about the letter my Mom sent to Moonray when she was still enslaved.

“Whoever transported that letter might have been one of Moonray's agents, or at least a courier. If we know that, then we could find out if that person had recent contact with one of our suspects. I am sure that the transformation of our city must have drawn a lot of attention. Unless they aren't operating independently, they must have met to discuss on how to get a message out. The fact that we didn't catch on anyone whom we distrust can mean only one thing. They must have someone who gets the message out, so that they can stay here and play innocent.”

Elona starts smiling. “And that someone might be the same person who worked for Tisha. He might not even be a part of the plot, but a simple underworld courier who doesn't give a shit about his packages.”

I nod slowly. We have not only improved on our city's defences. They aren't just capable of keeping monsters away, but also at keeping people inside. We know who leaves and enters the city. The only problem is that a short excursion can be explained with a recreational visit to the fields or a nice walk around Yggdrasil's trunk.

Elona squints her eyes and bends down to retrieve something from under her throne. It's a case with a register and a lot of files.

“Don't tell me you are keeping secret documents under your throne,” I groan.

“Why not? The throne room is guarded twenty-four-seven because the crystal core is here. When we aren't around and send the guards outside, the room is filled with over twenty mid-level guards all day long. All have their eyes trained on the centre of the room and the throne. It's the most guarded place in the palace. Someone would have a hard time snatching something from under their noses without notice.”

She pulls out one of the files. “There it is. Tisha gave me everything on her old network. The person who got her messages to the other clans was named Urad, a mid. He was often sent to the other clanleaders to offer Enwick's merchandise, namely slaves. There is also a description of him.”

“The name will do.” I query my security system for people with the name Urad and four pictures appear in front of us. A child, and three men. Now we have to hope that this Urad wasn't killed during one of the recent attacks.

Elona studies her file and eyes the pictures critically. “The third one.”

I select the man. He is fat and doesn't look like a fighter. But his expression is nonetheless mean and grumpy. Seems like the automated system took just the right snapshot of him. Now all I have to do is to cross reference him with everyone who we suspect as possible traitors. And voilà!

“His path intersected six times with Miraven. They are walking past each other at eight in the morning every three to four days,” I summarize.

“Then how can it be that we didn't catch on? We should have trustworthy people watching her!” Elona scowls.

I wave the map away and call upon the saved security feeds. “Maybe they aren't talking to each other. It is very easy to slip a letter or something else while passing each other. Maybe they even have marriage rings like us?”

My wife scowls. “I've talked several times to Miraven and I got to know her well enough to say that she isn't the type who would bind herself to a man like that. Maybe a similar device. I hoped that she would slip during our discussions, but she is a really smooth talker. Too bad that she uses her talents for the wrong people.”

Several video feeds of street encounters are projected in front of us. To my dismay I can only see two people walking past each other. Is it possible that it is just coincidence?

“Third frame, fourth row, time 08:23,” Elona proclaims with a smile on her face.

I raise an eyebrow and enlarge the indicated security video. It takes me three more loops to see what my wifey saw with a seemingly casual glance. Miraven slips a hand into her pocket and retrieves something. It looks like she has an item in her hand, but there is nothing. When Urad passes by, she makes a small throwing motion and the fat courier opens his palm in just the right moment. His fingers close, but not completely. Then he slips his hand into his pocket and the exchange is done.

“They have something like a cloaked scroll!” I turn to Elona. “How did you see that?”

My Wifey's expression turns from smug to gleeful. “I am good with pictures. Mom made me remember every leaf of Yggdrasil. And girls have better peripheral vision than men. Don't mull over it, you might have found it after a few hours of staring at the vids frame by frame.”

.