42.

Imitating creation

Mars pulled away slowly, still holding his face in her hands.

“How did you know it was me?” she asked.

Dominic leaned into the warmth of her palm, now soft and uncalloused.

“From the beginning,” he said, “it was strange.”

“That an archeologist would be this deep in the forest?”

“No. Your name.”

He slowly let his eyes flutter shut, breathing in her clear mana, feeling it slowly soothe the damage he had done to himself inside.

“Marion is a Vainish name,” he said. “I didn’t think it could exist here.”

She chuckled.

“That’s all it took?”

“No. It wasn’t impossible. But then everything else…”

Dominic glanced up at her. Her gold eyes almost shimmered like honey, reflecting the flickering of the water in the pools around them.

“You knew too much,” he said. “There wasn’t any explanation for that.”

He closed his eyes and leaned into her hand again, feeling his body slowly repairing itself, gaining strength as it fed off her mana.

“I considered other possibilities for a while,” he continued. “I’m sure there are hidden, strong demons out there. And you could also have been Asha or Domain. But knowing about dragons was the breaking point.”

“What made you discount Asha and Domain?” she asked, tilting her head. “They would have known just as much.”

He cracked open his eyelids slightly and glanced up at her. His lips parted, but he hesitated for a moment, searching for the words.

“…I don’t know,” he finally replied. “It was just a feeling.”

She stared at him, then smiled widely.

“Well, I guess it’s only natural that my son would know,” Mars said, a little smug. “I never choose wrong.”

Dominic chuckled.

“What’s funny?” she asked.

“It’s strange,” he replied. “You keep asking me these questions as if you didn’t already know.”

“I didn’t know, Dominic,” she said.

He raised his head slightly to look at her.

“How could the god of the world not know everything?” he asked.

“Ah.”

She smiled a little sadly.

“I gave up that right a long time ago.”

A wind gathered around her hands. Her robes fluttered and rippled. In a single, smooth movement, Dominic was picked up by the air and set softly down again, his head landing in her lap.

“Asha and Domain are my daughter and son,” she said, “but they were also an extension of myself.”

She ran her fingers through his hair, carefully untangling the strands.

“I cut off the part of me that was made of beginnings and knowledge, and I created Asha. I cut off the part that was made of endings and choices, and created Domain. They are part of this world, but not part of ‘me’ anymore. I severed them.”

“…Why?” Dominic asked. “I’m sure the world would have functioned the same if you hadn’t.”

“Because the people asked for it,” Mars answered, sighing. “Very few beasts ever cared if things had meaning, but people did. They agonized over life and death, beginnings and endings. So I gave these parts of myself away.”

She brushed a strand of hair out of his face.

“Since I gave Asha knowledge,” she continued, “it is no longer my place to rule. I can only go myself and find what I want to know. Like here and now.”

Mars looked down at him, her amber eyes glowing.

“Besides, even I am only one fragment of myself,” she said. “Because I am everything. The rivers, the mountains, the oceans, the valleys, the mana in the air, I am everything. And I—” She pointed to herself. “—am just the part that speaks for the rest of it.”

Dominic stared up at her. It made sense to him, that this person who was in front of him was only one part of a greater, incomprehensible being. It would’ve been far stranger if the entire god was present in this single space, their knees under his head.

“Why did you get rid of it?” he asked. “The right to have knowledge.”

She leaned her cheek into her palm and thought about it.

“I wonder…?” she murmured. “Did I need a reason? I could do it, so I did it. It was the same when I made the dragons.”

“You made them?”

“Of course.”

“Do I need to call them my older siblings as well?” Dominic asked.

She chuckled and waved it off.

“Dragons are not divinity,” Mars replied. “They’re my creations, but I never made them more than nature allowed. I put pieces of already existing animals together for their bodies, and gave them the intelligence and magic of man. They’re the highest order of beast—but as much as I love them, and poured my heart into their creation, they are still beasts.”

She looked over the piles of crumbled stone around the room, then glanced up towards the remains of Kali.

“That’s why they were worshipers of my children,” she said, “not comrades.”

She tilted her head as a thought came to her.

“Though they could be? I suppose a very loyal dog could still become a comrade.”

Dominic stared at the heap of rock shards spilling over the pedestal, taking in the new information.

“So,” he said, “if I were to go down those stairs, and find a dragon’s lair, and meet the dragon…it would think of me as divine?”

“Of course, Dominic,” she replied. “You are divine.”

He closed his mouth and rolled the thought over in his head. A dragon. The strongest species in existence. The mighty, undefeatable beasts that only existed in legends. Worshiping him.

“…Somehow, I can’t see it,” Dominic admitted. “I’m just one child.”

Mars grinned smugly.

“And look who your mother is. You’re the most important child in the world.”

“It doesn’t feel true.”

He shut his eyes as she lightly flicked him in the forehead.

“Then you just have to prove it to yourself,” she said. “Don’t you remember what I gave you ten years ago?”

“…I do.”

“Why don’t you use it, then?” she asked. “Your real affinity.”

Dominic fiddled with his fingers.

“It’s been a long time.”

“But it’s proof of who you are. Of what I gave you.”

She smiled and stroked his hair.

“No one on this planet can have it but my children.”

He was quiet for a moment. It had been years since he’d last used it. He hadn’t needed it. He had been afraid of being seen. The world of magic was small in Vaine. Mages strong enough to be remembered were an elite class of people. If there was any ripple, any change to their universe, it was impossible to say what they’d do—good or bad. So he had hidden it away—not only because he feared being targeted, but also because they didn’t deserve it. There was an instinctive sort of greed he’d held for all that time. This is mine.

Dominic glanced down at his hands. He’d kept it concealed until now. No, until a day ago. When the statues had fired magic at him, and he had fired back. The power to make fire, to make water, to make lightning. He concentrated, and mana began gathering in his palms.

The power to make anything.

He imagined it—red, fibrous skin striped with yellow. Sweet, crisp flesh. Round, almond-shaped seeds, tucked deep in the core. An apple. A simple thing that could be seen anywhere, both in Vaine and Hesia. A simple thing that shouldn’t have existed this deep in the dragon’s maze.

It appeared slowly, building itself up bit by bit, the skin growing and filling with white flesh. The seeds began constructing themselves, and, in an impromptu decision, he forsook them altogether. They were cut off, only halfway done, and the rest of the apple grew around them again, rounding out, closing, a stem finally appearing at the top.

The mana that had gathered and condensed to make the fruit held for one more second, then flickered and dissipated back into the air. The completed apple dropped into his hand.

He held it up to his face to look closer. The skin was smooth and solid under his fingers. There was no reflux, no sudden taste of iron in his mouth. This was his original affinity, what Mars—the world itself—had given him the ability to do. Not healing, not the elements, not the energies.

Creation.

A right given only to children of the maker god.

He offered the apple to Mars, looking up at her.

“What do you think?” he asked.

She leaned forward and opened her mouth. Her teeth sank into it.

“Hm,” she said, drawing back and chewing, “I think it’s a little dry. It’s also, hm…it tastes kind of like a pear.”

Dominic chuckled.

“I’ll do better next time.”

She swallowed, then glanced down at him.

“Why an apple?” she asked. “Organic material is more challenging of a subject. You could’ve chosen something easier to make.”

He stared at the fruit, a chunk taken out of it, and focused. Mana gathered again. It grew back, the flesh filling the hole and the skin smoothing over.

“I was thinking of Aster,” Dominic replied.

He slowly pushed himself up from his position. His body had recovered enough to move now.

“If it’s been three days, he must be starving.”

Mars raised an eyebrow.

“Aster? Who’s that?”

Dominic paused, then laughed dryly to himself. She probably hadn’t been paying attention to anyone but him.

“The crow we came inside with,” he answered. “Do you know how to find him?”

“Sure,” she said, nodding. She gestured towards the stone map of the maze below the pedestal. “Use this. All labyrinths have them. They’re quite efficient.”

Dominic placed his palm on it, feeling the meticulously carved lines.

“How do I use it?”

“It’s a summoning circle,” she said. “Put your mana into it and try.”

A gold light spread out, filling the miniature halls and rooms. In an instant, a flood of information came crashing into his head. The layout of the entire maze, every corridor and space, was suddenly clear to him. He could see the paths, trace them, even hear the rats squeaking in surprise as his mana passed through like a torrent.

There it was—Aster’s signature. Dense and controlled. A sharp scent that reminded him a bit of pine seeds. He caught the trail and followed it.

The stone glowed brighter.

“Come here.”

Above the map, a magic circle of the same size appeared. Out dropped a surprised Aster, landing on his rear with an “Ouch!”

He put his hands up defensively beside his head, probably afraid from the sudden movement, then glanced up and saw Dominic.

“Ah!”

He scrambled over, stumbling off the map and practically tackling Dominic, who was still kneeling on the ground. Aster wrapped his arms around his waist and hugged him tightly, eyes squeezed shut.

“Sorry,” Dominic said, putting a hand on his back. “I didn’t mean to take so long.”

The boy sniffled, face still buried in his clothes.

“Perhaps…it is not…the most wise…to follow you everywhere, brother.”

The words leaked out slowly, his voice hoarse. Dominic stared at him, then chuckled.

“You’ve only realized that just now?” he replied.

He flicked his finger, and a blob of water shot towards him from the pools outside the pavilion. He snapped and purified it like how Mars had done it.

“You learn fast,” she remarked.

“I’ve seen Caspar use water magic a few times.”

This tiny amount of magic wouldn’t cause any reflux. He pushed Aster away slightly.

“Hold out your hands,” he said.

“Ah.”

The boy seemed to understand. He cupped both his hands, and Dominic dropped the water into it.

Aster drank it all in one gulp.

“Ah, that’s better,” he mumbled. There was certainly water available inside the flooded rooms and damp walls of the underground maze, but there was no way it would have been enticing. He had probably only drank when completely necessary.

“…Wait.”

His relieved look turned into confusion.

“You’re…a healer?”

Dominic tilted his head, feigning ignorance.

“Yeah?”

“But you just…the water…”

“Just ignore it.”

“Uh. How can I ignore it?”

He turned to Mars, who was kneeling beside him, and Dominic was startled for a moment when he realized she had already returned to her Marion form.

“You saw that too, right?” Aster said.

“Yes, it was great,” she replied, proud.

He stared at Dominic, even more confused, waiting for an explanation.

“Are you ready for the shock of a lifetime right now?” Dominic asked.

“Even crazier than you being from Vaine?”

“Far crazier.”

“No thanks!”

He shook his head vigorously.

“I think I’m going to need at least a few months to recover from the Vaine one. And also meeting the king.”

“Then just ignore the inexplicable things,” Dominic said.

“Ignorance is bliss,” Aster agreed.

He suddenly looked revitalized, despite having been isolated from them for three days.

“Anyway, what happened here?” he finally asked. “And where did you get that apple from?”

Dominic glanced down, having completely forgotten it was still in his hand. He held it out towards Aster.

“Here,” he said. “You must be hungry. It’s fresh.”

“Where the hell did you find an apple tree to pick this from down here…” the boy replied, still taking it.

He bit into it hungrily, taking a huge piece.

“Mm, so sweet,” he mumbled, cheeks bulging as he chewed.

His expression slowly turned into one of confusion again.

“It tastes kind of like pear…?”