Asherah walked through the gate of her estate, it was no longer a living thing but rather now a masterwork wrought of precious metals, shaped to be just like the old gate, complete with the vines and branches carved from gold as they flowed around each and every bar of the twisted posts that made up its surface. It had been replaced for her by Hathor, who had taken it upon herself to construct this as soon as she had heard of the destruction of her friend's old gate. It wasn't the same, not even slightly, but it was a nice gesture, and she would leave it like that, this was now her gate. No one even attempted to replace the Aster flower, Asherah looked at the spot where it use to stand, tall and proud, a remembrance of a dear friend. She sighed and set herself on the fertile green lawn, walking over to her pavillion, she walked past countless rows of flowers and bushes that grew in neat organized rows, left to grow on there own, no risk or issues for them to be found.

“You must be quite proud of yourself.” a male voice called out, Asherah recognized it by the sound of the voice and didn't even turn to look to see who it was.

“You must be quite full of yourself.” she responded back. “Letting yourself into someone else’s home without their permission, that just wouldn't do for someone of your standing.”

“Of the two transgressors here I believe we both know I am the lesser here.” he said to her, she still didn't look at him, instead opting to look at the beautiful blue rose that was growing at the base of the walkway, lifting it up and looking deeply into its petals like it was trying to tell her something.

“Indeed, Shamash you are the lesser.” she laughed and looked over at the god that had so rudely let himself into her home. He was a tall man, with dark brown skin and curling black hair, on his face lay a sculpted beard, it had intricate ringlets and rows and was oiled to high heaven and back, causing it to look less like a beard and more like a piece of art he had decided to hang from his face. He like her and all the rest of the gods had golden eyes, but his held no pupils or any other thing in them, they were a solid gold. It coupled with his beard gave the man the look of a talking mask, like the thing she was looking at was not a face at all but rather a mask.

Shamash frowned, he looked at Asherah disapprovingly. “You know why I am here correct?”

“I can guess, seeing as this clearly is not a visit to an old friend...” she looked at him, he was the same as always. His entire life was about salvation, justice, divination and law, and anything that fell out of his jurisdiction was beneath him. “Before we begin this subject, I would like to ask how Sherida is doing.” she asked, and watched as the stern mask of a face softened for a brief time as she mentioned his wife.

“She is good, but she goes by the name Aya now,” he said.

“Good, I am glad she is happy, I apologize for not being there for the wedding.” she said.

He nodded, but his face was returning back to the stone mask it had once been. “What you did...”

“Which time?” she asked, interrupting him.

“That creature you created, it is an abomination, completely outside of all natural order.” he growled, his voice low as he spoke in a voice that could with sheer gravel alone shake a mountain.

“Ah, so this is what you are here to discuss.” she nodded, once again turning her attention back to the rose.

“The girl, that is within your right, you can be as atemporal as you want, but the other...How could you? It is a fate crueler than even complete eradication.” he said, using his arms to emphasize the point.

“Is it?”

“It thinks it is him!” he shouted, “It has no idea what you did to it, or how this will affect it in the future.”

“What makes a man who he is?” she asked, still not looking at Shamash. He paused in his rant and looked at her.

“Soul.” he said firmly, completely sure of his answer.

“Is that so?” she asked softly.

“It is.” he responded firmly.

“A single soul can go through countless lifetimes.” she said, not raising her voice any louder than the softest of whispers. “Each time it is wiped clean and restarts, the soul is still the same, therefore are the people? One might be a doctor, another a teacher, another a career criminal. All of these made different choices, had different outcomes, even with the same soul, are they then the same person?”

“I-” he stumbled, his argument breaking down in front of her.

“It is the memories, the emotions, the experience that makes the man,” she said softly. “All I did was preserve those, is it so wrong to want to keep that which is slipping away?”

“He was to fade away, it is what was right and proper, it was the law we put in place against.” He paused, and spoke the word lowly and slow ”him,” Asherah stopped moving for a second. “He was broken up for a reason, his soul was shattered for a purpose, and you know as well as I that no god is allowed to aid him.” his face softened. “He is gone, and helping one of his shards will not bring him back, this vicarious living you are doing, it is not right, this obsession will not end well.” he looked at her back, she was still crouched down and holding the blue rose, not looking at him. “Beyond that, what you did to this shard, this creature, it is not right, you can't just take the pieces and put them back together with some glue, some things once broken are best left in that state.”

“I forgot how much I have grown to dislike your company.” she sighed, “Leave my property, I do not wish to be harassed by you Shamash, not on my own grounds.” she growled at him, still looking away.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, “He is gone Asherah, there is only the shards of his soul, and though these shards have gained sentience and have formed their own lives they are not him.” he heard Asherah growl but continued. “You have tampered with the laws of reincarnation, and have aided one of his shards, these are-”

“Get your hand off me...” she growled in a low voice, he stopped talking and looked at her with a surprised voice. “Do not touch me, you are not allowed to touch me!” he slowly pulled his hand back, “Leave before this gets ugly.”

“Very well, we will do this the difficult way,” he looked at the heavily breathing asherah and sighed. “How the times have changed.” he said with a shake of his head.

“No,” Asherah said, standing, breaking the 12 thousand year old blue rose off of the plant and holding it in one hand she turned to look at him. “Times don't change, people do.” she said grimly, as she squeezed her fist around the rose and the blue dye from the petals mixed with the gold of her blood as the thorns cut her palm deep. The blood and dye ran through her fingers, falling at her feet, mixing in a pool of swirling gold and Azure blue.

He looked her deep in the eyes and nodded. “So it would seem.” he said, as he turned and left.