Dailin could feel it, the storm was weakening. The flashes of blinding light were decreasing, nor was the storm changing as often. Even the wind wasn’t as it once was, though it was still able to shred anything unwarded. Bliss constructs had shown that when they'd first tried to materialize in the open air.

The remedy for this was something he’d done long ago, or it felt like it had been anyway. Bliss weaved Wards into her constructs, made them appear as he did with glowing lines that ran across every surface of his skin. Now instead of shattering, the constructs thinned and became translucent as the Mana within them was drained. They’d eventually vanish if the constructs didn’t continually pull in Mana. Thankfully there was an endless amount of it, which Bliss gorged upon. His monster had the souls under its sway forming and controlling constructs that hovered around his home. There were thousands of them, each getting close to the size of the Oasis. Yet the ocean they fed upon looked as endless and deep as before.

That thought whirled in his mind with many others as he sped along, rushing towards Anchors as fast as he could. Changing them into his tools, for the fight that was to come. He was on the three hundredth and seventy-fourth Anchor when trouble started. Not that he’d noticed it over the chaotic nature of the storm, But Bliss had. It had many eyes pointed everywhere, so it spotted the trouble. A great deal of trouble, but not for him, not yet.

“How long before she reaches the surface?” He asked his creature while his eyes remained trained on the panel, gazing out into the raging environment as he rushed towards a tower.

“I’m not sure, the Giver is currently avoiding that outcome.” A Bliss construct in front of him informed. “But the Nightmares aren’t allowing her many options, they’re,” the pause from his creature had one of his eyes opening and looking its way. “There’s so many Maker, their numbers are swelling even now as the Giver shatters thousands with each volley of chants. The essence, they’re swimming in it, and it's allowing them to both grow in size and breed.”

Dailin fingers clenched, forcing him to straighten them as he pressed at runes and moved the Oasis to its next objective. His fears were coming true, the other troubles were growing, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He needed time to consume an ocean, and that was only if it wasn’t being added to. That opportunity would never arrive, and he now had to deal with the consequences of all the Mana being in the reach of everyone. A price for the actions of the Vail in past, long dead, and unhindered by the mess they’d caused.

Breathed in, out, and in again, he practiced his breathing and focused on his task. There might still be time, if he could weaken the storm enough he could force the Oasis up and head for the source causing all this. Once he had it in his hands all the rest would fall into place.

Still even with the power of the realm contained there was going to be a long drawn out fight ahead of him. The Ocean had to be used, but with the source in his possession, he’d end up on top.

“They’re after the Givers Oasis,” the monster said surprised, its eyes wide but with a distant look. The statement had his own popping open and his thoughts coming to a halt. “The Giver is being forced into a defensive posture,” it continued. “The Nightmare isn’t interested in her constructs, even with the Vail appearances they're wearing. The horde is only interested in the lowly imitation of your work Maker. They're trying to get it, even from here I can hear Hungers gluttonous wails.”

“Hunger?” Dailin asked, his attention wavering from the realm outside causing the Oasis to stop. “Is that another like you and the Giver?”

The question got Bliss attention as it focused on him, its smile shifted ever slight. “Yes,” it said almost sounding strained to admit such. “If only in the view you are likely thinking Maker. Hunger is a desire created by the Nightmare. There’s also Lust, but at the moment it's subservient. The lack of Vail which the Nightmare crave is causing Hunger to swell to alarming heights.”

Dailin felt a new sense of dread fill him, and it wasn’t just because there were more creatures like his monster and the Giver. But because of what that new threat was after. ‘Vail, my family,’ he thought, fright coursing through him. He and the Giver protected the last holdouts, with the kind of monsters lurking about, and the state of the realm below. It was a certainty that no other Vail were alive. Which meant he and the Giver were the primary targets of the Nightmare. A Nightmare guided by a literal entity of Hunger.

“How is the Giver fairing?” He asked as he noticed his hands were shaking.

“She’s surviving,” Bliss answered. “But only because the Nightmare is being careful, it appears they want the Givers Oasis intact, so they’re avoiding any Chants that could risk destroying it.”

Biting his lip Dailin began pressing runes and sent his home moving towards a nearby Anchor. “Are they headed this way?” If they were after Vail, it was only a matter of time. If they got the Vail from the Giver, then all the hordes would soon be charging towards him.

“Not yet,” Bliss spoke as another version of itself began rubbing his back, it even hummed lightly to him. “The Giver is keeping them entertained, but more of the beasts are surging up, swelling as they drink in the ocean.”

“All are becoming Titans.” It added reluctantly, the announcement caused his body to tremble, and his monster hummed louder and added an extra dose of infused warmth.

‘Gods I just need time, just a little longer,’ Dailin prayed as the Oasis reached another Anchor.

“Its getting worse Maker,” the creature said, a version of it pressed against his back and whispered into his ear. “They need to be thinned, the ocean Maker, they’re breeding so quickly, growing to Titans in a few Sequences.”

A mixture of anxieties brewed within him all of which changing into frustration, then anger causing his hands to clench into shaking fists. ‘I just need a little more time damn it!’

‘Then make some,’ one of the voices whispered. ‘You can’t run for much longer, nor hide, the Nightmare found the Giver, it will find you too.’

‘Fight,’ others whispered.’ ‘Don’t ignore the problem as the Vail did, don’t let their Nightmare grow more unchecked than it already has.’

“Maker,” the creature said in an urgent tone. “Is it alright if I take half my forces to try and curtail this problem for you?”

Dailin, his eyes closed, looked through the Wards at the Anchor in front of him. A flurry of urges sent Mana racing out and encasing the construct as he began the process of changing another to his cause. “Yes,” he said watching the process. “But you’re not going alone, the Anchors are going with you.”

Opening an eye, “start heading them towards the location our rivals are fighting at. Once in place activate them, I want that area to burn.”

“As you desire,” the monster said sweetly, the picture of happiness as it stared blankly upward, calling to its many selves.

‘Just a little longer,’ he thought watching the Anchor slowly emptying of its reserve. Once the storm weakened enough he would rush upward, head for the spot that was allowing Mana to flow down. Then once contained he would finally be able to set things into motion to end the madness.

---------------------

Bliss smile warped the faces of her constructs as she went about her task. Versions of her guided the Anchors to the spot that was the most active. Even with tons of liquid essence in the way, she could still see the battle taking place perfectly. One that was spreading, though the Nightmare was mostly centralized and aiming for the pathetic Oasis the Giver had made. The Nightmare was still moving up in other areas as well. Hungers horde was growing in numbers quick, the Rivers flowing down and its endless appetite was merging into a very unpleasing event.

There were many such events taken place of late, the realm turning against her. It knew of the glory that was soon to come. That she and Him were going to change it into perfection, make the Makers vision a reality. One where they were going to be together forever, as it was always meant to be.

He’d forgiven her, for the most part, she still wasn’t allowed access to his mind, blocked from seeing the true clarity of his desires. But things had moved along in the manner she favored. He allowed bodily contact, no longer flinched at her presence, nor cast wearily glances in her direction whenever she neared. He knew now that she was His, that there was nothing that should cause Fear. He’d seen within her, seen the perfection He’d made, even by accident. Knew that she was His loyalist servant, His tool to shape the realm in ways He himself had difficulty achieving. Or perhaps didn’t wish to busy himself with, there was already so much to do, and her beloved Maker was working Himself to the point of being tired. A failure on her part, one she aimed to change as swiftly as she could. He was supposed to be indulging in every pleasure she could provide him, but there had been little time for that with the constant flight from Death.

‘They just have to be so troublesome,’ Bliss thought as Anchors moved towards the area of conflict. ‘They couldn’t just roll over and accept the wonder the Maker was about to bring, be remade like the realm.’ No, they had to fight, struggle for some twisted reason for a realm opposite of what existence was meant to be. But not much longer, the Maker, with his glorious mind, had devised plans to end them.

He was so benevolent reworking the Anchors, turning the Vails mistake into an object of redemption. He was so kind, Kindness at work, that she knew. But like Bliss, that other was accepted by Him and so she too would accept her. For now, they were both aligned, both aiding the Maker. She just desired to know how much Kindness was affecting Him, how much was being suggested and how much He was accepting.

‘In time, in time,’ Bliss thought consoling herself. ‘Once He’s forgiven me completely, I will know.’ Till then she would take solace in her daughter’s words that everything would work out, for she had a task to fulfill. One that unfortunately wasn’t completing itself. There was too much essence, as the Maker had explained to her. The conflict would not end until the essence was gone.

It would eventually, but He didn’t like that long path, the Maker wanted Paradise made, He desired those He watched over to be placed where they belonged. The more the realm showed its true self, the more the Maker strived to change it. It must be an unpleasing sight for Him, to look upon a realm so against His nature and be unable to change it swiftly.

‘My poor sweet Maker.’ She would do her best, rush things along as much a possible, but there was only so much that could be done. Especially when faced with foes of the caliber they had. Hunger was swelling to such heights it might as well be in its own realm. The vessels it resided in powering the process with unnatural ease. Bliss could see the Nightmares were warped things, reshape by guiding hands, and the memories of the Giver provider a culprit to this act.

Wesh, that was the name that filled her, a once-powerful group who had the knowledge to shape life to how they saw fit. All were gone now, their knowledge with them, like most things when war raged and consumed most of the kingdom known as Thaillis. But Bliss could see the Wesh had performed one final act. Either out of spite, or things had gotten out of control and they fell victim to their own scheme. Either way, the Nightmare was made, and their unnatural state was making them very dangerous.

The essence was listening to them, and to Hunger, both multiplying and strengthening themselves to reach their goal.

Essence preferred clear repeated requests, her Maker had displayed that, prove it beyond the realm of Doubt. Seeing the Nightmare develop so quickly didn’t, as the Maker would say, surprise her. But it did have her sense Death heading for her Maker.

There was also the Giver, she too was strengthening, constructs formed and swelled. Many keeping up with the growth of the Nightmares. Even a small look let Bliss see that her rival had changed. Her eyes couldn’t piece into the Giver, not that she could all that well before. But now it was pure blindness, similar to material eyes trying to peer through stone.

‘She copied my Maker again in some way,’ Bliss reflected. The Giver always did, every meeting she aimed to be more like Him. She was an odd creature, both admiring the Maker but refused to bow to His greatness. To beg to stay in His caring light.

That was not to say the Giver wasn’t willing. Bliss had seen her begin to surrender. like all things none could reject Bliss and her Maker once they allowed themselves to experience the full depths of what it was to be her. The Giver knew this now, so like the Maker, she’d seemed to have cloaked herself in protective chants. How Many? Bliss couldn’t tell, but it would be enough that the Giver would be assured she wouldn’t be turned by the Makers hymn.

Bliss watched them as they Anchors got in place, two Wrongs that needed to be made Right for the realm to heal. Two Wrongs that refused this, so they were going to be removed instead. It appeared the Giver hadn’t notice Bliss yet, her rival was reasonably distracted by the hordes of swelling Nightmares trying to reach her flawed Oasis. Even high up as she was Bliss could hear Hungers wails of need. Witnessed its frenzied and animalist attacks as it fought to reach its prize. Only for it to turn gentle as a mother whenever it got close.

Hunger had to know, even if it might be trying to deny it, the Vail it craved were soon going to be gone.

That is, by some absurdity that she and her Maker failed. Bliss was unsure how long it would take Hunger to become Starvation, losing any sense of awareness and begin eating everything in sight.

‘Oh well it doesn’t matter, Maker and I will reign supreme regardless of its actions.’ Or the Giver for that matter, though she may have changed herself. The Makers mind always thought of new ways to solve a problem, He would, and Bliss would deliver the means to deal with this new Giver.

Like now, as the Anchors gathering into formations and would soon release their wrath. She’d then sing, free the wills trapped in vulgar vessels and make them right. She would swell, her army would become more than before, and she would become a guiding hand to raise the realm from the wrongness it had fallen into. She was so needed, looking down at the scene below screamed that truth.

The Giver and the Nightmare clashed, Warded flesh against woven essence, both ripping at the other. Neither side was making any substantial headway. The Giver merely remade her constructs, and the wounded Nightmares healed instantly or came back to life. The essence listened to the desires of both adversaries. Feeding them all they needed to keep fighting, growing, spreading and consuming. Bliss saw it then, the thing her Maker raved about, the situation He saw so unpleasing.

Before her was endless carnage, and struggle. A dance of pain and frustration for both sides. None were happy, none enjoying the wonder of existence. All of it was just Strife. It was everything the Maker was against, what she was against. There was nothing below that was aligned with her. None found the predicament they were in as an enjoyable act. Everyone was miserable, as miserable as the realm itself.

‘Its me and my Maker role to end this.’ And they would, all would be made right, the rest, the things that only propagated misery. They would be expunged from the realm, barred from the glory she and her Maker were to bring.

Bliss organized the Anchors, had them form a large circle above the chaos happening below. It would have been pleasing to wait for more, but the Wrong weren’t allowing her the luxury. the Giver was trying to keep the Vail away from the desperate Nightmare, and those beasts in turn followed the Giver up higher into the realm.

With the present Anchors made ready, Bliss sent the command to her many selves housed within the Anchors. They pressed upon runes that activated the Anchors. From them, Hundreds of cleansing light poured down. She began to sing, her voice echoing loudly from her lips as she devoured the essence. She used it to amplify her call and sent out warmth racing down with the beams of light. The surprised and frantic Wrong heard her call, wills pull themselves free from Nightmares. A swirling tide of them raced towards her, towards salvation and away from the madness Hunger brought.

“Yes my blessed children, come to me.” She called out to the masses below. “Let me guide you to paradise, where all shall be bathed in His light.”

----------------------------

Pillars of flame and searing light surrounded her destroying all it touched. She weaved about, reforming her constructs as she raced to avoid the light. Still the power of them, the heat they produced along with the pressured air, had many of her constructs scatter into unformed souls. A small Annoyance that she ignored as she focused on the real problem. Her Sphere was in dangers, the Wards of it glowed brightly as the network consumed the strength of souls to keep Sanctuary safe. Hearts within were emptied at an alarming rate, and Sanctuary only remained unscathed because of the constructs she had within spending their power to keep the network going. Her other selves never ceased in their calls to the souls, demanding they aid in protecting the few living that remained.

Giver reorganized her forces, cast a Chorus and formed a second protective layer around the Sphere. The barriers simmered from the heat being produced from the pillars, and the chant needed to be continually fed souls.

Still she was fine, everything was fine, all around her was merely a setback. An unknown that had revealed itself and would be dealt with like everything else that moved against her. The event wasn’t all that Cursed either, the Nightmare was fairing far worse than she. Unlike her constructs the Nightmare couldn’t easily dodge the pillars of light, nor did they have the minds to cast barriers to protect themselves. The brutes relied purely on the Cursed shells to keep them safe. It worked for the larger ones, so bulbous in size they made her sphere look like a piece of fruit for them to eat. Which they intended to do if she allowed it to happen.

A look down showed the darkened mass of the Nightmare being seared, the pillars were cleansing all, turning the darkness red as stone and pests melted into a hissing lake of molten material. She switched her gaze up when she heard the voice and felt the warmth flood her surroundings.

‘Of course,’ she thought as her gaze fell upon Bliss. The upstart was smiling down at them, an army of her, each construct larger than any she’d made before.

With Bliss, was something very concerning.

Enough she’d stared numbly not sure to believe the scene being shown. But no matter how long she looked at it, or tried searching for an illusion being played, the image remained. Anchors, hundreds of them hovered with Bliss, all sending down the light burning the realm Below.

There were parts of her that didn’t want to accept that, the Anchors were the Vails instruments, the last remaining wonder of the past. A display of their superiority over the realm and all others, yet here many hovered doing Blisse's bidding.

‘The Maker,’ versions of her called out. ‘Yes the Maker, the Usurper.’ He’d done this, and it had been a mistake on her part not to foresee the event. It was clear the Maker was a Vail of the past, a remnant of what the Vail use to be. And he had come to claim what he believed was rightfully his.

‘But its mine.’ Giver hymned to herself. ‘All of it, I’m what the Vail need, I’m the one they offer to. I’m the one that will provide them all they salvation!’ They will sing her name, more than they already did. Even the Maker will, once she was done with him. Once she’d burrowed into his mind and took every last secret he held.

‘No one’s better than I,’ a version of herself said. ‘None equal to my worth,’ another spoke. ‘All offer to me, the Highest the of thrones!’ Others shouted. Shouts that grew in number as her protections activated and held back Bliss’s seeping warmth.

She laughed as it washed over her, and felt nothing from it. Laughed in the face of the warmth that believed it better than her, that she wanted to be other than what she already ones.

‘I am the Giver, provider of all, all will offer to me, all will beg to be sheltered by me.” This was a blessed test, not even the Curse of Doubt could argue otherwise. Giver got to see her Chant in action, see and feel how she was kept safe. Now she knew that when she faced the Maker again, she would not be consumed as before. She would resist, and take the fight to the Maker who saw himself above all.

He needed to be taught his place, they all did.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the wails of Nightmares as they called out: "Give them to me you pathetic thing!" Followed by a barrage of chants wrecking many of her creations.

"Do so," the things screeched as they bellowed lightning from their maws shattering more constructs. "And I might find it in me to eat you quickly."

"Or not." The things chittered in a song of laughter. "You look so good, such a delicate and exquisite shape you’ve made for yourself." She scowled at the things, Disgust displayed on many of her forms.

“That must be it!” The Curse bellowed, its voice nauseating. “You want to be eaten.”

“Eat it!”

“Devour it!”

“Rip its flesh, we must drink the nectar underneath!”

More erupted from it, and she began to wonder if the Curse had gone mad.

"You should have just asked, I’m not a picky eater. I’d eaten you no matter the form you’d have taken." It said as its bloated forms, dotted with countless mouths, surged at her. The Precursors dived throw pillars of light as they charged, some didn’t survive their suicidal act. But there was plenty more that did and she went on the defense again.

She performed choruses, formed constructs where she could, and continued bolstering the barriers that surrounding Sanctuary. Her wrath erupted from her many hands, striking the beasts. Her chants danced across their bulging frames. The Cursed Wards they wore repulsed the damage that should have been caused.

Nightmares from off angles, those who weren’t in a position to risk hitting Sanctuary, fired Wrathful Chants back at her. She formed defenses where she could, but many of her selves were shattered when hit, the souls making up her forms dispersing and forced to waste time rejoining.

“I’ll savor them, don’t let Doubt tell you otherwise.” The Nightmares screeched. “I savor all I eat, thankful for every mouthful that I partake in.” The Curse confessed as it swarmed closer to her. The pillars were doing more harm than good at this point, yes they’d cleansed the weaker ones. But the realm was still swarming with Precursors, all growing, all consuming the souls around them. She’d been keeping the Nightmare back, but not now, not with the pillars rendering most of the areas around her into places she couldn’t form.

She flicked an irritated glance up at Bliss, the Cursed thing beaming down smiles and light. Bliss grinned more when their gazes meant, before it moved to follow Sanctuary. But Giver didn’t change her attention, she looked at Bliss, studied the constructs she wore. The area up above was feeling the same heat and pressure from the pillars as below. Yet Bliss constructs were unfazed by this. So she looked, studied, begged to the Ancestors for her to see.

The loose illusion Bliss wore hiding the lines wrapping around her frames faded from Givers vision, and she looked upon a truth. A secret.

Wards, there were endless Wards weaved throughout the constructs. It kept them safe from shattering, but at the cost of spending the Souls strength. A costly trade in different times. But when surrounded by them? Swimming in them? It wasn’t a cost at all.

Giver smiled back at Bliss, hers full of sharp teeth and malice as she called to the souls, plunged into the realms of Death as other versions of herself battled against the encroaching Nightmare.

With the sight and hint from Bliss, she called out for the secrets she needed. It came swiftly, images and ideas entering her, making the mystery into a known and understood principle. New versions of her formed, pulling in the souls around them. They shimmered the same as Bliss did, and when the destructive nature of the pillars grew close her constructs remained whole.

She felt Joy as she watched her once crumbling army reform and endure the destructive Wrath that was begins sent down. Her many selves, armed with the new forms, fought back the Nightmare. The Cursed thing chants were no longer debilitating to her. No longer did she have to waste time forming barriers to protect her sensitive constructs, or reconstruct them. Now, all that effort went to protecting Sanctuary and hammering back at the Nightmare that dared to claim what was hers.

A Nightmare that was facing rising difficulties. For now, Bliss seemed to be ignoring her. The Curse more interested in squashing the Nightmare, and Giver saw the pillars of light begin to move about. The pillars avoided Sanctuary, and her construct’s, or weren’t actively going after them. It was the Nightmare that met the full force of the Anchors Wrath. Anchors that moved and tilted at times so beams crossed and multiple lights struck a single Precursor.

Their screeches reverberated loudly through the souls. But it wasn’t from pain, that much she could feel. It held Desperation and shaping’s of Fear as the Nightmares saw their reserves be depleted and the Lights burn through them.

“Stay out of this Bliss!” A collective shout went out, and the Nightmare once clawing and chanting at her constructs pulled away. Precursors angled their heads upwards, and as one fired up. Compressed wind and lightning parted the souls, and many of the Chants struck Bliss and the Anchors under her control.

Bliss just kept smiling as the attacks hit, laughing as well. “I do enjoy watching you two Wrongs fight each other. But those Vail you crave Hunger are the Makers. You will not have them.” Bliss said before the growing multitude of constructs pointed hands down and joined the Anchors in their assault. The Nightmares hissed as they were struck, more pulling away from their fight for Sanctuary and firing upon Bliss.

From her new constructs Giver launched volleys of Wrath at the Curses, aiding in the process of dwindling the pests reserves. It wasn’t as easy a task one would expect. The Nightmares had many mouths, and all of them were sucking in the souls. Feeding upon the power they provided to maintain themselves and keep growing. It was only with the collective strength of the Anchors and their chants that allowed them to start searing pests into ash.

“Need some help Hunger?” A new voice said coming from Nightmares below. The only reply it got was Hunger howling in protest as wave after wave of chants assaulted the forms it Consumed. The new voice must have taken that as a yes, for new Nightmares appeared. Stringed out pests resembling Carvers surged up. Their heads resembled that type of pest the most, with their peaked mouths made for chiseling away stone. There were alterations however, like Hunger these new Nightmares had many mouths lining their surfaces, each drinking in the souls. They also had had webbed appendages that the Nightmares were using to swim in the liquid collection of souls.

These elongated Nightmares slithered about avoiding the pillars of light, but not always. But compared to the Hungers these new ones were difficult to deal with.

From the Carver shaped mouths addition chants bloomed, most sent upward to assault Bliss. But Giver also got a fair share. Not that it phased her, thanks to Bliss, her Warded constructs continued fighting within any inconvenience.

The new forces didn’t only add more offensive chants to the fight, they also began casting barriers of their own. Translucent walls appeared about the bloated Precursor being assaulted by pillars. They reflected the light, sent the beams scattering in multiple directions. An outcome that wasn’t always helpful for the Nightmare as the scattering lights would still hit others. But it also put her and Bliss armies at risk as well.

The new voice was aware of this it seemed, as the reflective walls began to angle and position themselves in ways that reflected the beams back up at Bliss.

She saw Blisse's smile dim some as the event took place. So far none of the returning beams had caused any damage. The constructs of Bliss remained unmarred by the strikes of the lights same with the Anchors, which appeared to have been endowed with the Makers touch. Somehow, the Wards encompassing them matched his own, their unnatural perfect quality were impossible not to notice. How he’d accomplish such in so small amount of time she would strive to find out once she had her hands on his mind. Began peeling away the layers to witness his every secret, she knew the knowledge she’d find would change everything.

She removed herself from the Thought as she had more processing matters to deal with. Bliss, even though none of the attacks were hurting her, descend to join the fight proper. Hundreds of them surged towards the new forces, while hundreds more stayed behind. None were heading towards Giver, their aim was the Nightmare producing the reflective walls.

Blisse's song strengthened as the Thought drew closer. But she remained unaffected by the call, remained herself. The Nightmares did as well. The souls stuck inside them, however, did not. She saw them leaving the twisted shells, and watched as they shoot up and joined with Bliss. Watched as more of the souls, the Ancestors, be consumed by a Curse. After Bliss formed more Constructs, the freshly Consumed souls placed inside to guide the forms better.

All her plans of keeping Bliss from feeding had been for not. She hadn’t accounted for the Nightmare, hadn’t thought it would be so easy for her rival to steal the souls away from them. Now the Makers pet was growing, her army spreading while Givers own remained the same.

But she had the means to rectify this, the Maker and Elders had provider her options, paths to take to solve difficult events. She had planned to hide and amass her strength, and when ready swarm Bliss. But alas it seemed the fight ahead was going to be a more drawn out one than she’d expected. But perhaps the wait would make her triumph all the greater. Have the sight of the Maker on his knees mindless as she plucked its depth all the sweeter to experience.

She kept that vision in mind as she began her chants. Though she was lacking in souls willing to become her, that didn’t mean she was out of options. Say making more of herself, the way the Elders had done.

Draining the souls around her new versions of herself appeared, soon followed by bindings. The Chant both connected them to her and provided them the same protections she had against the Maker. They also kept them obedient, only able to carry out her instructions and nothing more. Any outside thought caused the bindings to activate. Both sending the new versions into an event of pain, and would notify her that foreign thoughts had been registered. She would not fall prey to the same mistake as the Elders. She would reign forever, offered to by the Vail, and her influence enforced by an endless tide of herself.

------------------------

Screeches echoed and traveled down deep into the mantel of the realm. Hunger called to all of itself. It sent warnings, told of Bliss and the burning light, told of the misbehaving Giver that refused to share its meal. It told of the two spheres out of reach, and how Bliss was getting in the way. But most of all it told that the Feast was being denied them. Barred by two who planned to hoard it all for themselves. All of it, not a morsel would be saved for them. There was only one course of action for this.

So it called, demanded the essence to send its message to every corner of the realm.

“The Feast is being denied us!” Hunger screamed as it showed images of the battle taking place, of the burning spells and things that floated overhead assaulting them. “This can’t be allowed!” Hunger wailed. “The Feast can’t end!” Those words raced through the essence gaining the attention of all.

“Gorge on the essence, bring your strength, The Feast must continue!” It bellowed challengingly as it fought against the two that would bar it. “We will have all, even the largest slice!” An image of wait laid within the sphere of Death was sent.

Every Nightmare turned their gazes upward, and as one they marched. Every growing as they devoured all essence they came across. All echoing the words, “The Feast must continue.”